No Gas Slide Show

I made these images Friday night of the only gas station open between UpTown Big Buildings and Dooleyville. As of last night 8pm there was none all over again......

The line goes back over 150 cars

150 cars back looking to the front

The Last Mountain Ride Before the End/Late Photo Addition

Sorry Folks....I meant to add this image this am, thought I had but obviously my mind was on getting out the door and into Bank Town's Meltdown. Here All Y'all go, a field fix for those with gears to get out of the woods when your shit inevitably breaks and causes your head to cave in just like the Bucket Head's head is who is trying to figure out where his\or her investment and attention to his\ or her own awareness went to......

Theme the first time around. Bruce, all that stuff has to go and that way it will not be there to fall apart.

On Thursday night while out at the Shop in Mathews I talked to Doug about going for a Uwharrie ride early on Sunday morning. Somehow I had 3/4ths of a tank in the Montereo which is not that easy to come by here in Charlotte. The plan quickly developed looping in Keller who had just built his new SS mountain bike. Just as quickly as the ride was put together it all came apart on Saturday when both Doug and Keller bailed. I knew the end "Apocalypse This Instant Before Us" was coming tomorrow so I had to go even if it meant traveling the 40 miles east by myself and then riding alone. Thankfully Rich called when he realized that the local trails would be bad from the day of rain Saturday and he let me know he was in.

We left early enough to be the first ones out on the trail.

Theme for the first loop around Keyauwee/SuperTree loop in clockwise direction was Spider webs and big brown Spiders manning them across the trail at head height. They were everywhere on the double track/fire road sections. I think Rich rode through a web that wrapped his face and upper torso causing the spider to run down his body for the ground and an escape. Yikes. The bodies of these spiders were the size of grape.

Other than the arachnoid challenges the trail was in near perfect condition. A little Wet and tacky but not saturated at all.

Theme for the counter clock wise loop which started out from the campsite was Lose the Gears and Suspension, join the crowd, it is a fine crowd indeed!

Enter Bruce out there alone for his first time who drove up in his bio diesel burning VW new car. The bastard gets 1,300-1,400miles to the tank of throw away grease from the food store. (Late Correction: It was brought to my attention that that mileage is not only from the grease tank custom in his trunk but the original diesel tank as well, so that is 1,300-1,400miles per both on board tanks filled.) He started with us for the counter clockwise way around and soon he was not there so Dicky decided to leave wood stick arrows for him to follow. By the time we came back around and off the Keyauwee we saw Bruce standing there and his broken Klein Bike was leaning against a pine tree. Apparently sometime in that new little inner off of SuperTree Bruce shifted ripping a cog out of his cassette in turn breaking his derailleur hanger. He brilliantly wedged the remaining part of the hanger holding the derailleur under the quick release nut, locked it down and was able to get out of the woods. Brilliant now get rid of the gears and that squish being held together by that pin with duct tape over it and you will be set for life or as long as it lasts.

Okay, now this whole entire thing can unravel all it wants, I was able to get in one last mountain ride.

Martial Law on Monroe Rd, Tears on 3rd St. PLUS Silver Lining

Yesterday I pulled an entire shift, my Rookie was off with his family getting some well deserved mental health recuperation. On the 2 o'clock schedy I left the Jar with multiple in the bag the first being a run to 200 Providence Road which is really the 2000 block of 3rd St. Under the 277 Beltway up the rise by the State Credit Union on the right at Kings the cue for gas at the Petro Express began not moving in the gutter. 50 cars lined up in file for what turned out to be 1 high octane pump open, idling, on the phone, windows up again even though the air has been cleaner lately since the temperature has allowed the O3 molecules to dissipate. Our last Code Orange day was Sept 7th, 120 something PPM and yesterday it was prolly under 30. As I slowly rode by the still line passing each effortlessly I noticed the normal human lady with her window down about 15 cars from actually being on the property of the 'Gas' station. She was melting down, hysterical clutching the steering wheel of her car, eyes completely swollen, locked to the front. I looked away quickly realizing that this minute in front of her should be her defining moment that liberates her from all attachment to what brings her to tears in a line of many looking for the fuel, energy crisis for sure. I wanted to tell her to leave the car and walk away, there is no gas in town and west all the way to Sylva NC(Thanks C!), just leave it and walk away.

Later in the day in the buildings chit chat on the elevator related to the liquid not around, nervous eyes behind the bank. Mail dropped at 5:30 and I must ride out to Ultimate in Mathews to replenish my dwindling tube and lube stock. Gray skies, dark already, light rain on my face up 7th which turns to Monroe Rd like 3rd does to Providence. Down the hill, up past Lupie's and then I saw it at Briar Creek on the left. Martial Law. Hired/Contract(Black and White Cars with some crazy looking badge insignia painted on the door) police intermixed with Charlotte's finest municipal cops had the On The Run Gas and Convenience Store Completely surrounded. Lights flashing, bull horns, guns, reflective vests over the real bullet proof ones, tension. Cars were trying to get on the property that had nothing in the ground or air for them to buy and the law had stepped in to protect and serve by not allowing any cars onto the store grounds. Cars did not act as if they knew what to do next, confusion on top of irrational thoughts compounded by not being free. Once again I rolled by with little effort taking it all in.

There is a Silver Lining to this story, I made the side Bar on the Hawley Blog! I noticed earlier in the week that my blog had been added under People We Like But Pretend We Don't So They Don't Ask Us for Favors. I read The Hawley Blog regularly and usually get a laugh, a jolt, brain itch or any other human emotion that it may pull out. The HB is just as funny as Dicky's without all the me, me, me talk and adolescent sexual references. Thanks GJR I will die one day at peace knowing that I'm on your side bar!

The Cheapest Price in Town, Again!

That's right every gas station for the 10 mile in was out of fuel yesterday morning except for the Shell Station below the Citgo Pop Shoppe, it was an extraordinary view from the saddle of my Fillmore. Ike hit 13 days ago, they are running out and not so happy/or L.I.G. about it. Did anyone read the article about the armed Russian War Ship cruising the Caribbean Ocean with a Venezuelan Naval contingent? and it was a Jam! I took this little photo essay yesterday morning on my westward Stay Alive.

Jockeying for a spot at the pump, horns you cannot hear but I did as well as idling motors with the windows rolled up, some on the phone sitting behind the wheel appearing scared and confused as if out of the comfort zone of their living rooms. Just wait, it's gonna get better, your government will take car of you.

That Jeep got it's 20 Dollars or two days worth.

Lady in GMC Pick up on left is about to go red when a lady coming from the other direction takes her pump.

Pan right

This is real.

Little car on right about to squeeze GMC p/u lady from above and make the rest of the real line start to blow more horns that the pictures cannot get across. Constant horns from calm faces.

"Excuse me ma'am but Me and all the people on the other side were here first." The ma'am obviously could give a shit less, it is a dog eat dog world(I heard that) and all she has is 15 bucks going in anyway....more horns and calm faces.

It is a Jimmy Blockade at this point.

Then the day passes up in the Jar. My friend J grounds me with his infinite knowledge of the economic system we call America. I asked him what does this Bail Out actually mean to me? He told me with a straight face and direct eye contact that every tax payer in my house should set aside 2,000$ now because that is what the FED is coming for to bail out not only the Bucket Heads who have squandered retirements of the generations around me but every greedy bastard who took more than they need to pay for their McMansion/McLifestyle in whatever game they play to rationalize their McExistence from fake Real Estate to Fake Banking or whatever else you call yours . That is right, set aside your 2 Grand because as long as you have a bank account and an ID that will be what is taken from you to come up with the trillion that they need.
Late afternoon, eastward commute and there is NO gas at all of them. The one from this morning that had it was now out and looks so much more still and less aggressive, inert, an energy crisis for sure starting with individual human energy. The manager did not want to answer my questions, he seemed scared of me and slightly tweaked. He did not like me taking pictures either. I left after telling the clerk who was selling nothing to get out of here back to his home nation quickly, it is the only chance he has.

Hey, I just read IN the NY Times that Shell has Opened up a refinement facility in Baghdad after having no access to that country for the last 35 years. Just like Sarah Palin says, "That is awesome!"

After the Fire, the Fire Still Burns

Friday morning before I knew Lynn had passed I saw a Hawk jump out of the woods ahead of me in Dooleyville. I then chased the attack on me bike(that's right me) and around the bend watched him perch up on this pole. Drop bike, get out camera, frame shot, enough light? Half dozen shots in seconds then I slowly moved closer knowing that the guy with the camera down below is theoretically off this killer's radar. Minutes pass, I watch in amazement that this bird pf prey is still hanging on to the landscape he was born to. More shots, move under a bit to get sky behind him. Then all of a sudden, a quiet but dense woooooooossshhhhhhhh from a few feet above and behind me over my head and into my front periphery. Another, his friend, mate or hunting partner? Amazing, left me with chills a bit when it actually played out right in front of me. They stayed for more passing minutes, quiet not a sound but yet something tacit was sent my way, something bigger than just explaining and or conveying, something not announced or worn on my sleeve like a shirt with a name.

Friday after noon the news came by phone from my mom that her cousin Lynn had died the night before at around about shortly after 7p. My maternal's side of the family is sort of small, she had no brothers or sisters growing up but she did have a couple of cousins and a best friend in one who I want to call Aunt Lynn because that is how I knew her. Strangely enough that title is actually an upgrade from 2nd or 3rd cousin which is prolly the socially excepted technical relationship that she was to me and in this day and age is saying something to go up the ladder as opposed to like a brother or sister becoming a cousin. Sparing the details that do not really make sense anyway, she was admitted to the hospital a week before she died with some stomach pains that may or may not have been related to another medical challenge she had been dealing with. Within no time she was unconscious twice not once and then she died peacefully Thursday night with my mom and 2 other close relatives at her side. After a few minutes with her at rest they were asked to leave the room so that the medical staff could remove the incubation tube that had been helping Lynn with her shallow respiratory. When my mom was allowed back in she said that Lynn appeared to be smiling. Of Course, a body at peaceful rest, an exiting soul directly facing the light transfer of God and all that is safe.

Friday evening in twilight I lit an open fire way in the out back under the Hemlock and the biggest Broccoli Oak in Dooleyville. It was big, a tee pee inferno that started with the past 5 months of limb fall in the yard, the fire was 6 feet at the base and soon raged to 3 feet over my head. When the limbs fell in on themselves I started a staggered stack of thick pine logs that I had been collecting since spring. I sat out there until well after dark tending to the flame and watching the smoke rise into the sky contacting the air as it rose. My kid and the neighbor ones played around the stone lined pit, dancing, lighting sticks, singing and listening to me babble about transfer of spirit from earth to sky and the infinite cosmos. It was a wonderful experience to observe the elementary warmth of the fire and what it brought me and before 11, I was asleep. The next morning Saturday sometime after a brew of coffee was in my hand I went out to the pit and could feel the warmth still so I placed one log in the center of the pit. I crouched down and exhaled a deep breath onto the log. A flame immediately lurched up a foot tall and made me pause in the morning light. I kept it going all day by simply checking on it every few hours and sometime around dusk, the last of the smoke touched the sky and I let it be.

Lynn's funeral is up north today and I will not be there but I am having real feelings none the less. Mom, Dad, Sis and fam, I am thinking about you today as I have been for awhile. Love, Peace and Honesty.

Zion Rebuild/Not Too Half Assed

The Zion has been out of commission since before the west coast adventure to make way for the MotherShip which has now been decommissioned for further product modification. During the interim I sent the original Mt. Zion to Drake Coatings out east over past the 485 but before Monroe near the brand new Dale Jarrett Ford Auto Lot for an original Desert Storm paint job. Yesterday morning I drove out there early for a 0700hr pick up and after work started to put her together so that way I could go for a ride soon. The rebuild took way longer than normal. Not sure if that was because things kept going wrong including the new paint in places I did not really ask for it and no paint where I needed it which led to some tedious fixings or that the life sucking force of what's left of Jordy(photog on all but the top picture below) who just reentered the Toon after a real American Military State Transfer was messing up the magnetic balance of my barn. Either way things kept coming up and sometime around sunset my mountain bike came back to running order, lack the new brakes which will be here soon.
While in Germany Race Face showed me how to properly install their head set cups by using the same method someone else taught me a few years back.

The harder you hit it, the more set in the cup becomes, the very next hit the board shattered into several pieces.

Now the fork race can be installed by using an existing frame that you may have laying around, new technique born of desperation because of the paint over the steer tube which I had asked about when I dropped off frame and fork. As easy as you may think it would be to clean that surface it was actually quite a pain in the ass. I wound up using a chain saw file(which will come in handy again later for another problem) but it was tedious trying to get the powder coat clear of the tube.

When the frame method gets the race tapped on and set then it is appropriate to use hammer and screw driver to do the final seating of the race. Notice the time trail finale' look on my face, pure dignity.

Close enough for government work.

I recently broke my chain whip while breaking one side of my Dura Ace flip flop track hub on my new replacement LeMond Fillmore's work wheel(more on that bike build to follow). Improvise Bill, Improvise...ahhh plumbing tools.

Even better, Channel Locks!

One of the the light weight set screws for my EBB finally stripped out last night. So I simply drilled it out by setting the drill to reverse. No wonder it came out so easy you moron, you drilled the not stripped one out first.....

Okay re-drill the bad one straight thru, then hammer in the chain saw file which is squared on the bottom in to the center of the screw, then use channel locks to turn the screw out an replace both set screws with the original chunky ones that Dicky sent you with the bike knowing that you would mess up the little ones. Yes, I talk to myself.

I've got your Tinker and Raise you 1 Sonica Foster

Meet Sonica Foster named for the location she was found, Sonic Driver thru restaurant out on South Blvd, Queen City USA. We recently finished our 14 day responsibility of this 6-8 month old Dane'ish Lab mix all Dog foster. She went back way better than when we picked her up a scared skittish mule that ran every time you looked at her. Within a week of the 2 we had her she was learning to come, sit, stay and most amazingly enough was free ranging at night inside the house without a single tinkle or brown frown accident. Within a couple of days of returning her I had to go back to pick up the next lot of creatures(more on those to follow, that's right 6 total) in need and on the board Sonica had already been adopted. Once again if you think you can help with little short term commitments and you are responsible enough call Linda at the Charlotte Humane Society and volunteer to be a foster, they do not need much but they need you.....

Be advised Jordy Moore has updated his blog from Texas where Hurricane Ike came ashore a week ago tomorrow a few miles from where he sits dispatching ranch dressing, I mean Diesel gas fuel to 1,000 AT&T generators powering their cell phone towers. Check it out HERE or There

Report From The Field

I took this photograph of Jordy In downtown Stockholm along the river at Race Central right before we rolled out in parade to the start of SSWC06. Just a few days ago I pulled the image up into my digital tray and worked the image to present you right side up/aka view from upside down. Jordy has been in active pursuit of his 4,000(not 4million/not a life time chase either just 10 days) since Friday and is right on track for success. He has been in the field responding well to contract work for AT&T helping dispatch diesel fuel at the rate of up to 1,000 gallons an hour(24hrs on the daily) to roughly 1,000 cell phone tower sites around South Eastern and Central Texas being powered under FEMA directive by huge generators. As we sit here in L.I.G. mode realize that besides AT&T keeping things calm down yonder by opening and maintaining communication lines for the ranch to flow freely there are hundreds of thousands, over a mil of people still without the basics and surrounded by water. People who have lost everything, not by risking it all in the money markets but by being poor at the other end of that result. It is amazing Hurricanes Rita and Ike are not so bad either right? Or is that what you think just because the media has moved on to the next 'decoy of the day' for our nation to hold on to. 3 times over here it comes, divisible by 3 so hold on for the ride folks it is about to get real.

here are his words from yesterday:

J'adore le odor de NAPALM c'est le matain! AHHHH OOUUUIII! FIRE EM UP BOYS, more ranch needed. Repeat, losing ranch flow, NEED MORE RANCH. billy, your readers need to know that while they pay 5+ in the jar pasadena is rolling round @ 3.40, but they have to live with the refineries looking like looming empires off in the flat distance, gotham's they are with no hospitality no energy to speak of. marshall law means that you must let your engine idle for 3 hours while waiting for some burger king burger, King. im talking drive thru lines with engine idle as engines idle and fake food fone calls made from engine idle. copy, billy? you think the readership ship follows? billy, what i didnt tell you about my level of crackoutedness last night was that the lady with the death make up on and the missing front tooth, remember, yeah... i just wanted to lean across the front desk of the hotel lobby and press my living lips to hers and hold that under the burring groan of the diesel that REALLY is keeping the life is good/ranch dressing is good going. which really was 19,000 light years away from her eyes. see areyouonmath.blogspot.com later today for updates

Shop Road Ride, Ultimate Mathews

Dan fixing pre-ride post commute to ride flat. photo credit:SLechner

My friend Shannon took the above picture of me a few minutes before the Ultimate Bike 30mile shop road ride last weekend. Her and I had started roughly 8 miles of traversing some road and then greenway then road again to be the only ones other than Dan to show up by bike. After a pep talk the dozen of us rolled out towards Union county through the outskirts of Mathews NC. On the first climb Shannon, the only girl there seemed a little let's say nervous or something it being her first group roadie style event so we eased back and let them pull away. No more group just her and I for the next 40 something all the way back to the house. When the peloton pulled away I realized that I would be following the cue only by memory and you know how that goes. There is a 4 way intersection out in the country that reminds me of an intersection off of 218 that I/we were supposed to go right at but I did not remember that part until I had taken her straight 4 miles off the route and back another 4 to get back to make the left which originally would have been a right. My riding partner seemed not to care only mumbling something about time and church and positive thoughts. Back to Potter road out at Indian Trail and then Stallings NC , the thriving Metropolis and back on the cue. We made it back to the shop in good time considering we went 8 miles off the ride and then we headed back to the house finishing before noon with an interesting 50 mile ride.

The Cheapest Price In Town

3 out of 4 gas stations that I passed on my commute in yesterday were out.

That's right Joey, I took these pictures as well as the Header Image on my East Side Stay Alive commute of the Ye Ole Pop Shoppe on Albermarle yesterday morning 2 days after Hurricane Ike hit the Gulf Coast. (as an aside I would be interested in doing an interview with you about your experience being robbed/jacked/mugged while finishing your Sweaty, I mean Petty, I mean Peddy Cab shift a short time ago, that way everyone would know what really goes down in the Jar)

For those of you unaware I was down yonder in the Houston, Beaumont Texas areas working Disaster Assessment for the American Red Cross in 2005, 24hrs after Hurricane Rite hit over Sabine Pass Texas. What a learning journey that was, as a matter of fact I had so many educational discoveries during that 15 day experience that my life was indeed theoretically changed for ever. As "the story" is being reported by the National Media on this latest Hurricane I keep in mind as should you that they are not really giving us all of the information. One of the biggest lessons I learned from taking part in America was that what I was seeing and experiencing on the ground during the aftermath of the storm was quite different than what ABC News and the all of the so called news networks were pumping into the houses of the rest of America and the world. The truth is people are down there right now and are in extraordinary need for the basics which we take for granted here, like ice cubes in our lunch time beverage served in the latest styro fate of a nation. I remember seeing cases where within 10 days after the storm people were holding down their powerless homes where the inside temp was over 110 degrees. I also remember what those refineries where 25% of our domestic gas/oil production takes place looked like off line, under water and without power. Bizarre, really bizarre is a nation needing what comes deep from the earth and cannot be provided due to a natural event ripping through with high winds and a swelling ocean.

The Now. I have multiple inside sources in the region, one is a fellow from the Toon who has been working under contract with a subsidiary of the mother Company AT&T to keep the cell phone towers powered with yet more diesel fuel so executives can bust balls major. Another is in Beaumont at the FEMA run POD at the Ford Arena. I have had some interesting reports come in since Friday the day before the storm hit. Cool Ranch Dressing is flowing to the Mayor of Pasadena Texas' generator powered house and the Texas State Highway Patrol has plenty of high powered assault rifles strapped to their chests. I have also discovered that the collective local impression is that this Ike was 3 times more than what Rita was, I can see it and am blown away. If Rita was 3 times less, understand that then it took 6-9 months to get the gas productions back on line. Not that it matters to us but I saw people just yesterday at the gas stations in need here not knowing what to do when they should be on their bikes headed in the direction of their own destiny as opposed to being at the dispense of an economy to get where they want to go.

Mike Mooney Energy Lesson with Record Tall Bike Attempt

Here is a film clip life lesson of Mike Mooney's record breaking attempt to ride on the tallest bike ever ridden that my litttle buddy sent me. I met Senor Mooney once a long time ago and perhaps another more recently at the bike love party in Asheville this past February. The first time was way more interesting for round about the fall of 00 some friends and I had just finished a ride down the backside of Kitsuma trail and were on our way back up the old dirt state road when I recall some strange guy with his name(Mike Mooney) in cursive black die cut sticker on his bike frame came up behind us on the climb like it was nothing, perhaps at one point he was even bouncing on his rear wheel up the hill while I was pedalling. At the top of the climb back in the parking lot Jeff(The same Jeff who had just built the MotherShip) was grimacing because he was having stomach discomfort which stemmed from the 2 finger knuckle sized herniation that was trying to break out of his stomach wall as if it desired Oxygen. Sounds super comfy, right? The Sight of this cramping knob turned most of our heads but Mike Mooney with his name on his top tube knew exactly what to do. He asked Jeff a few questions about the protrusion's location, size, how long he had had it and then he asked Jeff to describe what he was feeling all the while he held the palm of Jeff's hand open and applied certain definite pressures. It was only the second time I had been witness to the application of energy healing which for those of you not in the loop is a medicine that dates back 10,000 years and has origins in the Peruvian jungle and mountain areas. I have visual memories of this scene, the sun was low setting lighting azure to lavender, fire pink skies that were clearly over our heads and surrounding our views. Jeff Lived, cured by the hand to hand transfer of energy.

Then I watch this film and realize that with open Chakras if you look real closely at the very beginning of the film you can actually see Mike's energy field. Watch closely as the crowd participates with a crescendo of soul voice mouth and a touch of their awareness that his head is over 40ft off of the ground and you will then experience full energy transfer as you connect not only with Mike Mooney but the spirits that are helping him propel himself in the actual real. Amazing. Thanks Mike, your transference of power has helped me out of the pit I found myself in and was trying to get out of. Ride on....

I got your Change, it's worth

those few cents that you give to the homeless or receive as free money for being poor while the socialist democratic union continues it's march to advert in the skies for you and I. I worked around this large TV screen in the sky yesterday more perplexed than Zimmy noticing all that equalled the nothing to get it there the same day I was thinking about the 8 kids in Pakistan. The connection is direct, think about the NHRA, it grabs the attention of those with little white dogs, styro foam cups, a faux or real Giraffe skin bag and tons of face paint showing allegiance to the message in the sky. The decoy, the canard of the day on Tryon the opposite town of Baghdad....nothing get's by these folks.

Fast with Comparison and Contrast

for all of you Americans out there that can at least relate to the fast part in this sped up alternative to existence that we call now. Comparison and in Contrast the literary art of which was originally explained to me at a young age by a fellow named Art who taught me something about the human gene pool we call Goo-Fi and their attention span. Just yesterday I was trying to discover the meaning of being here in a world where the term lock down gives parents of this community and nation yet another one less thing to worry or think about leaving itself as matter of factually talked about as, "So what's in it for me and what can you do for me?, where did it happen?, where do you live?, what kind of car do you have only to get rid of? have you ever seen crappers clogged in the back country?", you know the socially excepted understanding that has become our way of the good life more appropriately known to me as the productivity based society and useless questions asked in public that is/has become the USA. This morning was another time to examine the realness behind keeping up. Stay Alive down, a few jobs handled and then to the Coffee House that fully(more in cash annually than Team Dicky and Wicki get combined) sponsors my need, regiment, habit and warmth. New York Times Tuesday September 9, 2008. That NYT along with a ceramic mug in the chair that Dr. Quinn Medicine woman , I mean Jane Seymour with nice pleasant voice who when spoke came across as a soft Briton lady, like Mary Poppins but too much make up sat in last week will get my mind off of the real and back onto it for sure, we need some contrast in this world, do we not?

Page A10 provides me with the opposite understanding of my problems with my kid being in Code Orange Lock Down, right there tucked in between a story above about the death toll in Cuba thus far from Hurricane Ike and below something about Thailand's Television and control of people was a story about a US attack on a Taliban Compound within the boundary of Pakistan that killed 23 including 8 children. This story written by Jane Perlez and Pir Zubair Shah sheds much light once again that American workers' Federal Taxes are sparing no awareness of consequences in bringing democracy around the globe. Children. I want to know more but at the same time I prolly cannot handle the complete top secret and higher level of truth that we are all Okay with from the view of the comfort we have been fighting for. Survival instincts run amok and transfer to instincts of surviving not based on existence but comfort and excess which must be what we are distracted by because if we weren't the talk in the elevators would not be about The Patriot Brady's poor 4million dollar leg injury, it would be more somber and real addressing the death of innocent kids, their only crime being born time zones away, not here where we have Toby Keith and the land that we love to put sprawl on so that we can have yet more to distract us from where our dollars are going and who is doing what with them.

Ton of Questions:

Did any of the parents of the 8 children that were killed survive the speed of light explosion from the sky that was built and assembled perhaps in Indiana or some other place in America that they cannot even imagine because they have only seen this country in a tele port, not with their own eyes? Pakistan is very far away, 24 hours by flight if you get some good connections, air time I mean in the aluminum tube. What are their thoughts towards what is at the Quanta of the premature deaths of their own Biological Rerepresentation? I mean if I were here in the Jar and Pakistan was a shit ton fatter than it is right now and one of their missiles were by a series of commands fired from Islamabad exploding into my child after being launched from technology provided by data collected from an un-manned drone flown by some doosh at the other end of the joy stick killing my kid separated from me and I survived I think I would want to know that I did everything to disrupt not only that doosh's life and the life of the command center but everyone else in Pakistan who sat back getting more while their leaders told them to be scared of the Americans, they are dangerous. Are more enemies being created right now instead of building bridges? Have you ever stepped in Pakistan? They are human you know.

I would want to tell them that I am sorry that I have no control, that I cannot change it unless I leave for Scandahoovia or any other non NATO country where I could honestly say I were free and that my leaders were not down with blowing up your kids. Someone keeps telling me with almost this ignorant glee, "Well, if that is your attitude how do you expect it to change?" Pretty funny, I suppose and lack of wit your forte as well so go be a do gooder, go to church they know what's up, think nothing of your individual identity which you are not aware of it's power there for you can never be free or the home of the brave. For Braveness is in the abstract of cool even the antithesis of it, understand chase the 4million and in the end you will never see the collective conscious level that can actually provide the change that the Democratic ticket promises but will never deliver.

I would try to explain why I am sorry as well, not only for helping pay for the technology and the TV guided missile that killed their child but the bigger connection. The connection of my personal self stewing in a brew of life is good. Hell, living in the Jar I feel the entropy of the source of L.I.G. on the daily and for my eyes to witness the absolute calm of a nation faced with tragedy. How are you? Good? Good! Great. I am so sorry and I hope that your connection to your spirituality and God whomever it maybe whether he or she died on the cross or dipped below the horizon 10,000 years ago is saving your sanity. For I know you could deal so much better with your kid in CODE Orange lock Down here in the Jar than I could being in the mountains where you are dealing with my dead kid, an end result of weapons of mass destruction sent by the land of the free.