Let Them Eat Cake

I vaguely remember that while I was an intern at a newspaper in Northern California, as part of my duties I wrote a brief item, maybe three or four paragraphs, about a civic event involving some type of anniversary. One alluring feature of the event was to be some kind of gigantic birthday cake topped with the appropriate number of candles corresponding to the number of anniversary years. I wrote an appropriate item but my editor did not like my lead paragraph and punched it up by rewriting it in a completely different way than what I originally had written. She wrote something like: "What's a birthday without a cake?" I can't really say that her rewrite was not an improvement over the original and, anyway, interns are there to learn the ropes from the editor, not the other way around, so fine, the clipping is there in a box somewhere and I could probably find it if it were that important to recall to mind but it really is not that important now. At the time of my internship I only had maybe those ten or so clippings to show for job hunting and it would be sort of hard for me to argue that I actually wrote most of those articles if I were to be scrupulously conscientious on this point. But now, many years later, I have plenty of clippings to show that I actually can write, sort of, even if the newsprint is not glossy enough to impress some people who don't appreciate me and my unique characteristic style, whatever that means. Anyway, most of the time in newspaper writing all you do is just regurgitate whatever they say and tack on the appropriate attribution in almost every paragraph. No literary flourishes are necessary, not in these modern times. It might have taken me a few months to really get the hang of it, but now I am not half bad even if it is only me that says so myself. Often I see mistakes in other people's writings so this proves that I am comparable in quality even if the BLOCK is against me. If it were not for the BLOCK, I would be able to have a happy and productive life but unfortunately the BLOCK will never give me a break. They think they are building a temple but actually they forget that I myself am a temple. My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit as the Bible says. I am not just some dog that was wandering along the streets. I am a human being and thus I must insist that it is imperative to drive out all these male chauvinist pigs who are attempting to besmirch the sanctity of my pristinely briliant mind. The more you obsessively grind on and on, the less I care about your sick and twisted mind. Sorry but your Wizard of Oz act has got to STOP immediately!

Back Cracking

I never have been to a chiropractor but Cousin David once cracked my back. Once when we were visiting them in the Bay Area David came over from the city and was talking about how he was taking a massage therapy class and he was offering to crack everybody's backs and pounding on people's shoulders. I allowed him to crack my back. All he did was grab my arms and sling me over his back like a sack. All of my ribs shifted into place. It sounded like strange, like a click-click-click-click-click. He said my back must have been very much out of adjustment. Yes, probably. It is not like I ever used chiropractive services. I probably mentioned this to someone which explains why I am now feeling myself compelled to retell this story. However, I wouldn't know anything about the chiropractive services that Dr. Riffle provided to the Catholic priests of the Holy Order of MANS under the supervision of Father Earl Blighton. Whether my cousins ever had any connection to Dr. Riffle I really can't say. However, Cousin David was never a chiropractic practitioner in terms of being professionally certified so it is doubtful that he was ever called upon by the Holy Order of MANS for chiropractic services although I really wouldn't know anything about that. Cousin David was certainly vulnerable to cults but he mostly went for the Hare Krishna Eastern religion type of thing unfortunately for him.

Paying The Dentist

It warms my heart to know that you pay your dentist his dues whenever you go to his office to have your teeth cleaned or to have those rotten molars extracted from your empty head. However, that does not mean that you are entitled to tell the dentist what he should or should not do with his money.
If the dentist wants to squander his hard-earned dollars on scams concocted by obscure and little known con artists who spent time at Sing Sing and wrote their own religious texts to rival the Bible, well, that is his choice.
If the dentist wants to send thieves to jail, I suppose that law enforcement will cooperate with that charge given that their sole mission in life is to prosecute wrongdoers wherever they may be found and thrown into jail for three weeks regardless of guilt or innocence, the facts of the case having yet to be ascertained by a jury of peers in a courtroom presided over by the appointed judge, not that other guy with the ethnic axe to grind, persons in this country presumed to be innocent until guilt is properly determined as per the U.S. Constitution, there being apparently some exceptions in practice for unknown reasons.
Nevertheless, regardless of your exasperation with the dentist's failure to refund your teeth projects despite your whiny demands, still, you have no recourse in terms of legal avenues unless you want to break into his office and steal his financial records, which is illegal and will put you in the slammer with Longwell, or else have an affair with the dentist and clean his clock for whatever you can get. Or else you could marry the dentist and save a lot of money on future dental bills. Those are your options.
Still, none of these options will get you anywhere in terms of cracking the code. Sorry to break the truth to you this way but that was just how things were.
No matter how proactive you are in demanding a refund for all that poorly done teeth work due to the pathetically retro procedures prevalent at the time, the system being what it was, admittedly corrupt human nature being what it is and people being programmed to behave in certain ways, feeling themselves compelled to avoid unspeakable subject matters at risk of utter humiliation and embarrassment, still you will not be able to undo the past deeds and set the clock backwards. You should have thought to set up safeguards and preventive measures and remedial research and demanded perfection in the first place but you did nothing so you do not deserve a refund.

"I Fire Writers"

I recall my Dad once suggesting that I answer the ad with the famous headline, "I Fire Writers." This was when I was in high school and the ad put out by Norm Rohrer who ran something like the Christian Writers Guild and administered a correspondence course for would-be Christian writers often appeared in Christian magazines that I like to read such as Christianity Today and Campus Life. I don't know why I never mustered the courage to do that, however. The ad is not talking about firing in the sense of dismissal. It is referring to getting the writer all charged up to go out and write a lot of stuff and pay your own way through life. Oh, did I mention this to someone? Anyway, you are not in charge of firing writers so obviously you are not in a good position to fire me. If only you could put me on your payroll, then you could easily fire and dismiss me from your employment but alas it is not possible for you to drop your atom bomb on me for I am just a little too off-target for comfort, am I not? If you would like to mail me a paycheck to do whatever I want, that would be nice. After all, Robbie gets to do whatever he wants and his only credential is the fact of being an MK. I, too, am an MK so I think that someone should be funding my luxury lifestyle so that I also can do whatever I want as determined by me. What's fair is only fair.

The Problem With Cousins

The problem with cousins is that they live on some other planet and only come down to earth very rarely so we really don't understand each other very well. I seem to vaguely remember Aunt Anita talking about the Italian judge from San Francisco as if he were some kind of hero when actually he may have been a problem. According to the paperwork, they seem to have gotten the case transferred to a German judge who dismissed some of the charges and sentenced only parole. No one ever said anything insulting about Italians, at least not that I know of. It was just that my great-grandfather's father was born in Germany in the 1800s so maybe those Germans understand each other better. The witnesses for the prosecution, Dr. Riffle and Mr. Schmidt, were not Italians either so I don't see what this whole thing has to do with being Italian. Just because you are Italian, that does not mean that this whole thing has anything to do with you. It was not about being Italian. It was Dr. Riffle's money that was taken under cloudy circumstances, not your money. Thus, the matter of 1950 had absolutely nothing to do with Italians. The Italian judge might have been a nice man and done other good things in his long life but as it turned out it was not his place to pass judgment in this case. That job fell to the German judge. The judge had a lot more evidence to look at than we know of today and Samuel Longwell, the man who actually ferried the money from San Francisco to the workplace, was the only one who got jail for a year. I am not sure why these things happened and there were perhaps other circumstances that are not clear from the evidence. Thus it made no sense for the Butterfields to be playing on the Italian team. The Italians never did us any favors, not that it matters now.

Dumb Dumbs

Yes, there are some divorces in my family. It is sad enough just that the two people could not get along. To make matters worse, Linda's extended family are apparently the most pathetically stupid people on the planet and at the same time waging war against us, extended family of Merle, even though we have no clue what their problem is. Linda certainly did have a lot of personal problems of which I know nothing so I can't really comment. We don't really understand what their problem was so it sort of isn't fair to have all these stupid games bombarding us. They have a lot of problems but they don't want our help so obviously we are not going to offer.

Irish California

It is really not surprising that California has gone to the dogs. All of the churches are mostly empty and most of the people moved out to get away from the grinding monotony of these tediously boring and stupid Irish Catholic dogs who are now running show and act like they are at war against us. Adversarial is the word. They don't even try to make friends with us and they constantly bombard us with garbage that puts us always on the defensive because, obviously, we are useful pawns in their Counterreformation movement, especially me. They use their Catholic connection to win friends with Italians and Hispanics, but the issue is not really skin color. They are planning to turn the country Catholic, obviously, and then we will have no choice but to merge into their putrid and disgusting culture and dismantle everything that matters to us. Sad but at least it will not be my problem. How can an intelligent Protestant flourish in such an obnoxious culture as that, overrun by Irish Catholic swine like the Hoskins family?  I cannot imagine. Really, it is sad to see that the conservative cause is mostly taken over by the Irish Catholics anymore. It kind of gives the impression that the Protestants and Pentecostals don't stand for anything and obviously that is what they want, to make us look like garbage. Trashing girls, especially Protestants, seems to be a strategic component of their strategy to reduce the population of white Protestants and Pentecostals while opening the floodgates to incoming Catholics-pagans. I am not saying what should happen, I am just saying what I see. Future generations may have to decide on returning to mainline Protestant denominations if they want a local church because obviously the local AG churches belong to the brown people and white people are no longer welcome unless maybe you are Irish Catholic like the Yearys.