30 October 2001

Cruel and Unusual

Not so long ago, i considered myself a liberal, but i find that my take on things is moving a bit more toward the middle. Take this captured terrorist thing: I could not believe my ears when i heard the ACLU was blathering about how we should not extract information from the terrorists by any effective means. Seems there's concern that we may be stepping on their "rights."

Well, my opinion is that since they are not Americans, they should not be afforded the same rights as
Americans. They are treasonous. They are a threat to the safety and well-being of life as we know it. They hate us. While i believe that compassion has its place, i don't feel that this situation is one of them; at least not the kind of compassion that prevents us from protecting ourselves. Yet, at the same time, i don't believe it's right to use torture as a first line of defense in gathering intelligence. But there has to be a hard line drawn somewhere.

Imagine my disgust and dismay when the ACLU further stated that the new idea to use Truth Serum to extract information was considered "Cruel and unusual punishment." Never mind that the American Military and the American government used that very same Truth serum to extract information from our own soldiers and operatives. Never mind that the military and/or government also injected plutonium and uranium into the veins of 12 human Guinea pigs in the 1940's. The same government who infected 400 African-American men with syphilis, under the guise of treating them for "bad blood." These are just some of the incidents we know about, and I'm confident there are others.

I mention this only because there is an inherent hypocrisy in "maintaining" compassion that does not exist in the first place. I'm not sure this is even the point. The point, to me, is that we must be a nation that never throws the first punch, but finishes the fight with a vengeance when the punch is thrown at us. There is no shame in self- defense. I say, try every humane way (including sodium pentathlon) to extract information about terrorism activities, terrorist cells, strike intelligence, etc., and if that doesn't work, get creative. Get mean. Do what it takes. These terrorists are not one of our own. Why should we treat them with more respect than we often treat Americans? In general, when we're talking about the ability to destroy entire cities and cripple everything in our nation, including our freedom, all bets are off, Skippy.


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15 September 2001

Terrorist attack


The Terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York on September 11, 2001:

Since the horrible tragedy of that day, i have watched CNN way too much and been interested in all the news much more than usual, but have resisted the urge to research Nostradamus prophecies. It might scare me too much.

I understand that this will not be a simple war. I understand that even if we go to Afghanistan and assassinate Osama bin Laden, the other cells of terrorists throughout the world will still exist. And there are still governments (like the Taliban) who recognize him as some sort of hero. We know this is not the definition of heroism. Heroes don't kill innocent people.

So this endeavor will be one of great detail and calculation and shrewdness. We are a society of Instant Gratification, and this will be our true test of patience. I hope America continues to feel united in the long months--and maybe years-- to come.


Sympathy to all the families and Friends of the victims of the September 11, 2001 Terrorist Attacks on New York Washington and Pennsylvania, and prayers for a Higher Power to touch these terrorists with love and remorse for their actions and wish for an end to terrorism.


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01 August 2001

Cognitive Dysfunction.


(this entry was made before i knew that the problem was i had Grave's Disease, and my thyroid was dying)


A new phrase with echoes of old demons. Almost every difficulty I experience these days is directly related to some sort of cognitive dysfunction. I have multiple physical ailments, but
the most overwhelming, the most debilitating, seems to be related to memory, concentration, and all the peripheral sub-routines that stem from it. Frustration is a major example of that. I am so disgusted and stressed by the betrayal of my own brain function. It's as if I have had part of my brain matter removed, or that it is simply atrophied. To wit:

When I am doing something creative, i.e. painting or writing, i move into this "zone" that blocks all the stimuli. I become peaceful, meditative, and pleasant. When I put the creative project away, and have to deal with everyday stressors--bills, busy work, the prospect of moving, the desire to purchase a home, the irritants of other people, noise--I become almost maniacal in my reactions. I have angry outbursts, crying jags, and sometimes, at crescendo, the overwhelming desire to cut myself or mash a lit cigarette into my skin.

When the phone rings, I am flooded with dread. I'll have to talk to someone. I'll have to answer questions. I'll have to deal with problem. I'll have to feign understanding, pleasantries, interest.

I look up a number in the phone book, turn around to dial it, and the number evaporates from my short-term memory.

I forget when I did things, when I said things, what I did, what I said--even if the event only happened the day before.

I've developed aversions and intolerance to certain things. I can no longer stand the sound of silverware scraping a plate or bowl-- I have to use plasticware. I am rendered psychopathic at the sound of incessantly barking dogs; shrieking birds; snoring; someone drumming their fingers; the chatter of a friend; the hum of florescent light bulbs; bright lights or sunshine; alarm clocks; those shouting announcers on car commercials; the decline in quality customer service; eating the same thing more than once; anyone controlling any part of my life; anyone asking anything of me...

I can be driving somewhere, and suddenly forget where I'm going. Many times, I've had to pull over and gather myself, struggle to remember...

I cannot focus on two things at once. If I am doing something on the computer, and someone is talking to me, I lose my train of thought. I can't recall what I was doing.

I no longer remember my dreams.

I hear someone talking about something that they experienced in childhood, and I can't recall very much about my own. When asked what my life was like when I was 10 or 15 or 20--I simply have no idea. Likewise, if asked to remember an event--even, sometimes, memorable ones, I can't draw that information out.

I don't visualize things, so that i can retrieve the visualization later. The memory seems disconnected. There seems to be no trigger. If I don't write down my ideas or thoughts, they vaporize into mist.

I cannot find the right word, although I know it exists in the vocabulary portion of my brain, and so I just stop communicating.

It's very much how I imagine an amnesiac would function (or not function). And I get so angry with myself; So angry with others for their lack of understanding. I often feel I am being singled out for torture by the Universe or the Powers That Be. I feel persecuted, abused, neglected... retarded. I often liken the function of my brain, with the function of my own computer. My brain thrashes, struggling to pull something from the hard drive, it crashes when too many applications are up at once, it's buggy and inefficient. The operating system needs badly to be upgraded.


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21 July 2001

Wish in One Hand....

2001/07/21

Wish in One Hand....



...and Spit in the Other, And See Which One Gets Full the Fastest...

In our quest to reach Vermont, we have made Plan A, Plan B, Plan C....let's see...have we run out of alphabet? Perhaps we're back at plan A now, having wound around after reaching the end. At the root of it all, is the lack of money. Story of my life. We were going to rent a U-haul truck and pull my van on an auto transport. But then LS announced that she had this bad feeling about my van--that it was about to fall apart. Some major mechanical issue was about to tax our finances even further. And since i don't have a warranty because i paid cash, as is, 2 years ago, there was little security if that happened. She suggested i try, even with my current credit blemishes, to buy a new car with a warranty. Often, the car dealerships will make special arrangements. I was skeptical, but what the hell.

We tried everything, and went to a plethora of dealerships. All of them turned me down. Even one that promised "Second Chance Finance." All because i got behind on credit cards. That was because i had to stop paying them in order to afford to move us here from Colorado when we became trapped at that apartment with bad phone lines and no employment for her to be had. Long story. I wouldn't even have gotten the damn cards, but a real estate agent there had told me he was about to put me in a house using my VA Certificate of Eligibility, and said i had to get those cards to build "new credit" after my bankruptcy 4 years ago. Well, that all fell through, horribly, along with other things we had planned. Long story, as i said. Regardless, these delinquencies killed my chances.

During this process of driving all over the coast, my A/C began to blow warmer...at first i thought it was just the heat-it was 110 to 115 degrees heat index. But it became apparent that the A/C was about to go, too. And then we heard this odd knocking in the engine, down low. Ominous.

So we spent a week driving around in that heat without air, nearing heat stroke, and to no avail. It made us even more determined to get to Vermont.

So the next plan is for me to simply list my van in the paper and sell it to an individual-perhaps a mechanic who needs something to work on. That money will help out quite a bit with our trip, but i will be without a vehicle again. I was so proud of myself when i bought that van. I paid cash from my settlement, so i wouldn't have a payment. I wanted to keep my overhead low so I'd have more money left over each month. But it was ill-advised. The blind leading the blind. LS is right: better to have that payment and know you have a warranty, because a dependable vehicle is a great part of security. Even moreso than owning a house. Somehow, that reasoning escaped me when my money came through. Probably because i had never owned a new vehicle with a warranty. Again, she was a Light Switcher.


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12 July 2001

Something Dead

I tried to go to sleep, but just kept smelling this horrible odor. I sniffed my pillow, I sniffed my pits. I even sniffed her pillow and was convinced it was her pillow case. It smelled like something dead.

SO I removed her pillow case and laid back down. But there was that smell again. Maybe it was coming from outside.
So I got up and
stepped outside and the wind whipped around my head and I said through the window, "It's out here--something really strong."

So I came in and closed the window. But I still smelled it. I sprayed neutralizer all over the room. No change. I went to the bathroom medicine cabinet for some aspirin, because the smell had given me a headache. I opened the mirrored door and my eyes caught the ear wax removal bottle.

Then it hit me.

I had put some in my clogged ears earlier. I reached up and poked my finger into my ear and sniffed it.
Oh my god.

The whole time, I couldn't get away from that smell because I was carrying it around in my ears.


So the next time you smell something dead...


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