Letters, and how to alienate your friends

Well, mind if I blab with nothing serious going on?

Waddid you think of O.J's latest caper? Could he have locked himself up 'cause he regrets the murders and wants to be punished?!  Is that theory any crazier than any other? Too bad Johnny Cochran died. Shoot, if ever OJ needed a sly, tough lawyer it's right now!  Remember it's Las Vegas, so don't get too pissed if OJ wriggles out again after he gets tired of remorse.

His wife, after they divorced, tried to get even by maddening OJ by sleeping with, right under OJ's nose, the waiter, and the manager of a nearby restaurant. Who the hell was she?  Well, one thing she was, guess what? stupid. She's dead isn't she? Do you resist the conclusion that deliberately enraging someone to murder you is stupid? More proof she was stupid: when a white woman marries a famous Black man, and you divorce, then sleep with two plain NOTHING white men, you're borderline mentally retarded, not just stupid. If one enters a biracial marriage one has additional responsibilities. For example, if an illegal immigrant marries a citizen, that fact had better not feature in the subsequent married life of the two, 'cause if it does there will be hell to pay.

IMO OJ's first knife murder was of the drug dealer who gave his former wife drugs.

I've read four books on the OJ Trial.  The white prosecutor, a woman, during the trial, slept with the Black prosecutor in a San Francisco Hotel. Well, the trial did last a year. Ha!

OJ got off partly because the prosecution completely misunderstood the import of there being a female, Black foreman (woman) and a majority of the jury at the end almost all Black. Marcia Clark was too much of a smart ass to have read BLACK RAGE (written by two Black psychoanalysts) which posits that in Black culture women shield their men and send their females out to get the jobs available to Blacks. Those Black women weren't about to convict OJ Simpson!!

So, it took a white woman to bring OJ down, but to do so she had to forfeit her life. Yes, the whole thing was that mad.

Las Vegas convicting OJ seems, on the surface, an unlikely outcome. Personally I don't give a damn.

Barry

 http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

 

 

 

Interview

 

Ask and you shall receieve. I am going to interview you my dear; remember, be honest and post onto your blog, all the best zoe xx

 

Gee, what a hoot! Thanks for offering me this wonderful opportunity.

 

1) If you had a time machine, but it could only work the once, and could not make the return trip, what time would you go to and why?

 

I'd go back to the year One and on my knees Witness the crucifixion.  Reason? So I might have an opportunity to become a complete human being. 

 

2) If someone threw a bag onto your lawn, and when you opened it, it contained $1 million, and you later discovered it was stolen in a local bank heist, would you choose to keep it and let the bank claim on its insurance, or would you return it for the $1000.00 reward?

 

That's a tough one. I'm afraid I'd keep it in spite

of the difficulty of transporting it to a Swiss Bank. Drive

to Canada with the loot might be the first step.

 

3) If you could live your life over again, what one significant thing would you change and why?

 

Avoid divorce through living more honorably.

 

4) Which would you prefer to do, sit in a bath of snakes or a bath of leeches?

 

Leeches I guess: Not all snakes are poisonous, but I couldn't take the chance. If the "sit" is till death the leeches would probably take longer to suck my blood. If I had a box of matches I just might avoid death from the leeches. I had a leech glom onto me in a muddy dam outback in Australia;

in those days I'd swim in anything. It dropped off when a lit match got close.

 

5) If you HAD to choose between a woman who is an excellent lover but wouldn't speak to you, or a woman who only wanted you as a companion, which would it be?

 

Oh, oh, oh, this is an easy one: I'd be the "companion." Talk can be sexier than just about anything. A woman who did it well but never spoke would feel to me like making love to a corpse.  In a pinch of course I'd go with whatever I could get. Call me Tolerant Baz.  (Aka Barry).

 

Thanks Zoe for your invitation!

 

Barry

 http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

Asking to be "interviewed"

 Comment from bbartle3
9/14/07 6:26 AM | Permalink

Well, that's all a new kettle of fish!
At the risk of sounding churlish.......
      Had to look it up....

Main Entry: churl
Function: noun
Pronunciation: 'ch&r(-&)l
Etymology: Middle English, from Old English ceorl man, ceorl; akin to Old Norse karl man, husband
1 : CEORL
2 : a medieval peasant
3 : RUSTIC , COUNTRYMAN
4 a : a rude ill-bred person b : a stingy morose person

Ain't English wonderful? One of my fav.
stolen words in the English dictionary
is the German Schadenfreud

Main Entry: scha·den·freu·de
Function: noun
Pronunciation: 'shä-d & n-"fro i-d&
Usage: often capitalized
Etymology: German, from Schaden damage + Freude joy
: enjoyment obtained from the troubles of others

I believe there are something like 250,000 words
in the OED. (That is, many more than in other
languages; which gives legs to the the argument
that our President always speak regular English....ha ha ha ha...)

I sidetracked myself....If I'm asked to be
"interviewed" my answers could very well
be more forthcoming than if I'm the one doing the
asking: For reasons not clear to me I cannot
find the chutzpah to "ask" to be interviewed.

Main Entry: chutz·pah
Function: noun
Variants: also chutz·pa/'hut-sp&, '[k]ut-, -(")spä/
Etymology: Yiddish khutspe, from Late Hebrew huspAh
: supreme self-confidence : NERVE , GALL
synonym see TEMERITY

I just lack the gall to actually ASK to
be interviewed!

Barry
http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

Writing

Writing has the power to make us happy. Happier? Yet, some writers, good writers, writers with publishing ambitions, go hide in secret, barricaded Nirvanas called secret Blogs or somesuch. Private? Nah. If only one person has access it ain't private. It's servant and slave, ha ha ha....

My adult daughter and I exchanged emails the other day, maybe six or eight, and regardless of content the exchange made me feel oh so great! But the dialog wasn't really private. After all we are father and daughter.

Private.  What's private? One definition goes something like, 'doing something in a room that you would immediately stop doing if someone were to enter.' Or, threaten to enter. Or, if you imagine someone might enter. Some acting classes have as an exercize doing something, having a "Private Moment," that one would instantly stop if the presence of another seemed possible or likely. The idea being that what is truly 'Private' is also what is truthful. Actors tell us they want, more than anything, to be believed!

One secret to a good relationship might in many instances be the ability to share what's truly private. Sharing nothing that is private is most likely only an accomodation. Lovers have reported feeling as one. Private.

It's been reported that the Sacrament of confession by Catholics has in recent times been on the wane. Down to something like only 34%.  The import of this is that taking Holy Communion not in a State of Grace (having committed an unconfessed whopper) is a large sin.

Now my readers are down to zero, right?  Ha! ha ha ha ha ha...........sob.....

Point: The Confessional is private. I mean, imagine the druggery for the poor, well-intended, priest having to listen to all that garbage day after day after day! And for virtually no pay!

That might seem trivial, worrying about the decline of the Confessional chamber/box.  Yeah, but what about the precipitous decline in Freudian analysis?! Present day humans have no guilt, no sin, no worries, fears, declines in energy and goodwill toward men women and children?????? Rubbish.

Where does one go to purchase the complete works of Sigmund Freud?! I wanna study up. Freud had an enlarged appreciation for the importance of the 'Private.' He oughtta get a postumous Oscar. Come back Sigmund, all is forgiven. We forgive you for embarrassing us so often and so deeply and so hurtfully. Boo hoo! sob sob sob.....

Writing, my writing anyway, is mostly bragging. I'd like to veer slightly more toward the private without getting my ears boxed. Know what I mean?

Luv yas all................

Barry

http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Animal I am

My answer to one of John S's make-busy chores. 

 

Comment from bbartle3
9/6/07 6:12 PM | Permalink

I'm an Australian rabbit. I made
my burrow under an enormous
bolder, half of which goes deeply
underground. There are many
exits and entrances so that if
they send a ferret down one or
even more entrances, I'm outta
there in a flash. Dogs I avoid by
smelling their approach. Guns
are the biggest menace which is why
I feed usually after dark. My burrow
is so long, secretive, and many-chambered
I can have many different types of female
rabbits to breed with, play with, and cuddle
with. When a bunny, I had many a long,
safe chat with Beatrice Potter.  I don't
tell many people this secret but Beatrice
and I were lovers, testing the biology
of Natural Selection. The result?
Peter Rabbit, my true son!

Barry
http://journals.aol.com/bbartle3/Vengeance/

AA Battery Recharging

To my puny hundred dollar digital camera I've amassed 12 AA rechargeable batteries and five chargers. One of the latter is to recharge in the car (seven seat Mazda van which has an 110V outlet). One nifty recharger claims to recharge in 2 hours. This one is the only one which specifies green light for "Ready" and red for "Charging." Another is the reverse! At Best Buy over the holiday weekend I stumbled upon a 2 GB camera card on sale for $19.95. In my toy camera that stores over 300 photos. Not sure what to do with my several times filled, and deleted other 2 GB camera card.   

The bee and the landscape snaps were taken quickly: the bee one in case it bit me, and the second taken thru' the windshild while stopped: didn't want to get hit from the rear. The white cloud is directly East from Griffith Park. It is a regular feature seen from LA, often many much bigger white clouds. They are formed when cold air from the ocean 25 miles away, moves inland to take the place of hot air from the desert rising. If you could throw a stone over that white cloud it might land 175 miles away near Las Vegas.

Digital is better than film. Pretty soon different, longer lasting batteries will go on sale, IMO.  When I look back at my film photos I flinch in disappointment. By comparison everything looks artificial on film. Never dreamed I'd say that.

Now I have to wait for Vincent, napping after school, first day back after summer holidays, to wake up and post my two blue photos.  

P.S.  The bee crashed the party at a bench under the trees in Griffith Park. Later the merry-go-round, the children's train, riding ponies, and later still, steaks et al at Sizzler. Nice happy holiday.

Barry

 

 

Dunno yet.

I've got everything crossed hoping that clicking on Permalink before starting to type will narrow my journal format when I click on 'Save'.

Well, I'm in a bit of an uproar this morning. Well, for one thing this is the second day after surgery and I hurt a mite. It'll heal.

The truth is I'm feeling a little sorry for myself. After a life time, almost, and anyway beginning when I was 14, and my mother died - yes this is a sob story, so perhaps have a hanky handy, heh - someone I've known Online for maybe ten years mercilessly attacked me on a message board after she'd seen my AOL Journal photos - I've struggled to find family again. All attempts failed until 1992 when I met my wife. So, we've been married 15 years, four children, and we're all as happy as bugs in a rug.  Take a gander at the following directed at me, and not just some third world despot:

One glimpse of the family photo told me all I ever need or want to know about his vacuous, narrow-minded arrogance and his sad-looking wife and children -- who should now definitely be off limits. That photo tipped everything he's said over the last few years into a scary, fun house perspective. It's just wrong. Not funny, not kooky, and not interesting for any longer than it takes to hose maggots out of a garbage can after the first shock of discovery and the brief fascination at the teeming number of them.

From: Daedalass

At first, years ago, I surmised that this Member was a woman college professor. She was measured, semi-literary, undeclarative, distant. Because of the ending of the screen name I assumed it was a woman being humorous. But suddenly Daedalus has flown too close to the sun, again, and her wings have melted.  But that's idle conjecture; truth is I'm stunned at the out-of-control vituperous onslaught against me, my children and my wife. There was a time when one would be benched for such a personal, take-no-prisoners wipeout.

She mentioned she had a Jade tree. Later I said "You have a Jade tree," and she replied, "No, I have two."

"Mary Mary quite contrary how does your garden grow?" asks the nursery rhyme. I'm surprised her jade trees don't wither up and die. Perhaps she's getting old, has no children and nurses bitter regrets?

Thisnot to air private grievances.  No, no, her broadside was posted on a message board. We've never met, never had any intercourse other than on an AOL message board.

____________________

I might try to write here about the thumbs down I got via several communications that my crash photos were not well-received. Gee, I just carry a tiny digital camera in my pants pocket and shoot whatever grabs me.  Today I might try to get a shot of the enormous white clouds that rise majestically over the San Gabriel mountains, clouds formed when cold air from the Pacific meets hot air rising from the desert.

Have a GREAT holiday weekend. (Support your labor Union; I do! This is Labor Day weekend, correct? :-/

Barry