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The Military

Journal: James Foley Is Not a War Ad 7

Journal by Jeremiah Cornelius

by David Swanson / September 13th, 2014

                               

To the extent that the U.S. public is newly, and probably momentarily, accepting of war -- an extent that is wildly exaggerated, but still real -- it is because of videos of beheadings of James Foley and Steven Sotloff.

When 9-11 victims were used as a justification to kill hundreds of times the number of people killed on 9-11, some of the victims' relatives pushed back.

Now James Foley is pushing back from the grave.

Here is video of Foley talking about the lies that are needed to launch wars, including the manipulation of people into thinking of foreigners as less than human. Foley's killers may have thought of him as less than human. He may not have viewed them the same way.

The video shows Foley in Chicago helping Haskell Wexler with his film Four Days in Chicago -- a film about the last NATO protest before the recent one in Wales. I was there in Chicago for the march and rally against NATO and war. And I've met Wexler who has tried unsuccessfully to find funding for a film version of my book War Is A Lie .

Watch Foley in the video discussing the limitations of embedded reporting, the power of veteran resistance, veterans he met at Occupy, the absence of a good justification for the wars, the dehumanization needed before people can be killed, the shallowness of media coverage -- watch all of that and then try to imagine James Foley cheering like a weapons-maker or a Congress member for President Obama's announcement of more war. Try to imagine Foley accepting the use of his killing as propaganda for more fighting.

You can't do it. He's not an ad for war any more than the WMDs were a justification for war. His absence as a war justification has been exposed even faster than the absence of the WMDs was.

While ISIS may have purchased Sotloff, if not Foley, from another group, when Foley's mother sought to ransom him, the U.S. government repeatedly threatened her with prosecution. So, instead of Foley's mother paying a relatively small amount and possibly saving her son, ISIS goes on getting its funding from oil sales and supporters in the Gulf and free weapons from, among elsewhere, the United States and its allies. And we're going to collectively spend millions, probably billions, and likely trillions of dollars furthering the cycle of violence that Foley risked his life to expose.

The Coalition of the Willing is already crumbling. What if people in the United States were to watch the video of Foley when he was alive and speaking and laughing, not the one when he was a prop in a piece of propaganda almost certainly aimed at provoking the violence that Obama has just obligingly announced?

Foley said he believed his responsibility was to the truth. It didn't set him free. Is it perhaps not too late for the rest of us?

User Journal

Journal: 140914 (heat)

Journal by HomelessInLaJolla

Today is Sunday the fourteenth day of September in 2014.

The upside and the downside. The good side and the bad side. The upsidedown-insideoutside.

The up side. You are top of the food chain. Top, up. You were created as a divine being, eternal life. The up side.
The down side. You are on the down side. A little more down every year. Hell is that way. Call it aging or make up whatever crazy excuse you like: you are taking on way too many boogers in the brain and around the body to match. The down side.
The good side. We can fix that. We are human, we have a healing, a recuperative, a regenerative mode. It does not matter how much damage you have sustained, what your ailments and hurts and injuries have been. Humans are top of the food chain, they are created as divine beings, and they have a regenerative mode. That's the good side. We can fix that.
There is a bad side. There is a 2500 straight mile requirement to amp up the human metabolism and make it to the recuperative, regenerative, healing mode. Adam was kicked out of the garden, Adam became involved in too many damaging ventures in the interest of profit, want, gain, money. Adam no longer makes it to the healing mode, the regenerative mode, the recuperative mode. Adam, kicking your butt out of the garden, you need to go for a walk, about 2500 straight miles, and amp yourself back up to get over all of those ills and evils. 2500 straight miles, that's the bad side.

We call it the "path of the Lord", and that brings us to the insideout upsidedown side. What is "the path of the Lord"? (wrong scene, movie Braveheart, where Stephen the Irishman jumps into a trench with William and his friend and counsels, pph.,"God has me covered, but you're f#$%k'd!") "HAHA! You'll never make it!" That's the upsidedown insideoutside.

The up side. Humans are divine beings, top of the food chain.
The down side. You are on the down side. Too much perversion, brain scuttled the ship, locked you up in the stem, no more frontal lobes for you.
The good side. We can fix that.
The bad side. Takes 2500 miles to kickstart into gear--keep on going. I am working over 4000.
The insideout upsidedown side. The path of the Lord. Sh'yeah-HA! You'll never make it!

As Peter counsels in the Acts,"Save yourself from this corrupt generation."

http://mapfortu.wikidot.com/

User Journal

Journal: More Than Enough - Comcast declares war on Tor 21

Journal by PopeRatzo

If you haven't dumped Comcast yet, you better hurry:

http://www.deepdotweb.com/2014/09/13/comcast-declares-war-tor/

Reports have surfaced (Via /r/darknetmarkets and another one submitted to us) that Comcast agents have contacted customers using Tor and instructed them to stop using the browser or risk termination of service. A Comcast agent named Jeremy allegedly called Tor an âoeillegal service.â The Comcast agent told its customer that such activity is against usage policies.
The Comcast agent then repeatedly asked the customer to tell him what sites he was accessing on the Tor browser. The customer refused to answer.
The next day the customer called Comcast and spoke to another agent named Kelly who reiterated that Comcast does not want its customers using Tor. The Comcast agent then allegedly told the customer:

"Users who try to use anonymity, or cover themselves up on the internet, are usually doing things that arenâ(TM)t so-to-speak legal. We have the right to terminate, fine, or suspend your account at anytime due to you violating the rules. Do you have any other questions? Thank you for contacting Comcast, have a great day."

User Journal

Journal: Mars, Ho! Chapter Fifty

Journal by mcgrew

Mars!
        John and Destiny left the houseboat parked on a space port pad they had rented at the spaceport at the Meridian Bay dome and got in a cab. Destiny said "I don't want to shop on an empty stomach. Taxi, take us to a restaurant that serves eggs and pork sausage this time of day."
        "Wow," John said. "That's going to be an expensive place."
        "Well, I'm buying. You said you never tried pork sausage, now's your chance, it's my treat. Besides, I've been thinking about pork sausage for half the trip and I don't want to wait any longer!"
        Dewey was on his way to Mars when he finished reading Knolls' report. He sipped on the coffee the captain had brought and switched on the news. They were digging the deep hole in Mars again.
        Plans were being made to tow the tragic Venus station to drop into the sun. It had been argued that if they dropped it on Venus it would incinerate from the friction with Venus' thick carbon dioxide atmosphere, but some lesser educated people were afraid that the disease might somehow survive Venus' hellish surface.
        Charles was back on TV talking about pirates. He was glad it was Charles and not him, Dewey hated TV cameras.
        He emailed Kowalski, telling him that when Kelly got back to Earth to have a couple of his best electrical engineers, one who was good with batteries and one that was good with engines, to talk to him and find out how he got a third gravity out of batteries. Nobody else had managed to do that before, and some engineers claimed it was physically impossible.
        John and Destiny were really busy on Mars the next few days, mostly shopping. First shopping for a wedding ring, then for real estate; they would buy a house and a bar. The houseboat was big as houseboats go, but was a bit small for someone as wealthy as Destiny who had lived all her life in very large homes, especially since the houseboat was half full of beer. After signing papers for the house they went for breakfast at a nice restaurant, where Destiny bought John another omelette and pork sausage. John wasn't any more impressed with this sausage than at the other restaurant.
        Then they visited Tammy in her hotel room. Her face was still a little bruised but she wasn't wearing the sling.
        "Hi, come on in, guys. Want some coffee?"
        "Sure," Destiny said. "So how are you coming with your research?"
        "Well, we haven't had time to do much except move them into the facility and acquaint them with it, but Rilla had really come a long way and Lek was almost cured already, at least from the physical withdrawal symptoms, by the time we got to Mars. She's to the point that withdrawal is still torture to her, but no longer deadly. She's still in mental and physical pain but she's not dropping any more. The physical pain should be gone in a few weeks. Of course, full therapy will probably take years."
        John said "Yes, Lek sure did change during the trip. This is great coffee, Tammy!"
        She laughed. "It's robot coffee!"
        "No way," John said.
        "Yep, and it's one of your company's robots that made it, too!"
        "No way in hell!" John exclaimed.
        "It's true," she said. "Your company updated all their coffeebots' operating systems and other programs. And it perks a whole pot of coffee in five minutes, and a cup in less than a minute. You have one of their robots, now it can make good coffee. I only found out because they're advertising it all over everywhere. I'm surprised you didn't notice."
        John said "I saw the ads, I just didn't believe them."
        Destiny laughed. "Dad must have tried a cup of his own robots' nasty coffee, I think he fired his head engineer. He should get here in another week."
        John said "Bill lands in two days. I'm still reeling from the trip here. God, but that was a damned nightmare!"
        They continued chatting a while before going home. They would be moving into their new home about the time Bill showed up two days later and would have more shopping to do; they would need furniture and appliances.
        John and Destiny met him at the spaceport, and they stopped at a bar for the beer he'd promised John. He bought John and Destiny several, in fact. John tried to buy a round and Bill wouldn't let him.
        "Excuse me, Bartender, but I want to buy a round," he said. The bartender told John what they cost.
        "Wow," he said. "That's pretty high! Is it like that everywhere here?"
        The bartender told him the reason was the cost of shipping it to Mars from Earth. He was going to clean up in the tavern business, it seemed, since Destiny would get a huge discount on shipping. He decided that while he was learning business he'd learn how to make beer and open a microbrewery in his tavern, too. He'd have really cheap beer, at least compared to other taverns, that he could sell for a huge profit and still be way cheaper than anyone else's if he could learn to make good beer.
        Bill said "Bartender, don't take his money, this is all on me. I have to write a damned report tomorrow, I don't know why" he said, turning to John.
        "I had to write one and they really wanted detail," John said. "Maybe they changed policies and everybody has to write reports now."
        A few days after that they met Dewey at the spaceport. After Dewey and his daughter hugged she said "Where's Mom?"
        Dewey said "Come on, Destiny, you know how your mom is. She's scared to death to even get on an airplane, let alone a space ship. I'm going to wear a camera at the wedding, though, so she'll be there in a way."
        He stuck out his hand. "Good seeing you again, John. That was some great work you did on that trip. We're going to be rewriting the book. I wish I could talk you out of retiring."
        "Well, thank you, Mister Green..."
        "Call me Dewey, John. You're family now."

User Journal

Journal: 140911 (thursday)

Journal by HomelessInLaJolla

Today is Thursday, the eleventh day of September in... you know the rest?

coffee in La Jolla. $2.45. What else were you doing with the change, anyway? Waking up for coffee and donut at Von's Hollywood was nice, but it was $2.45. Bay-bee! You cannot live in La Jolla unless you are dedicated to losing money in as many different ways as possible. If you obsess over the small change, this town will relieve you of the burden.

C'ho M'Ama's cartridge and ink repair. Gotch'yo mama's butt in a mayonnaise jar. C'ho M'ama's cartridge and ink repair. 617 H-Cheung street, Beijing. 617 Hi-Cheung street, Tokyo. 617 Hi-Cheung street, Singapore. Then walking from Cal Poly Pomona west into LA, there around St. Thomas Aquinas. Other locations of interest. San Luis Obispo clearly has the same babylonian furnace and three large Eucalyptus trees bonsia'd to look exactly as the Ham, Isaac, and Jesus Christ trees here in 92037 in back of Everett-Stunz. As described in the site materials (http://mapfortu.wikidot.com/). The Ham, Isaac, and Jesus Christ trees, at whatever level of volume or amplification (obvious, size of trees, number of other key architectural elements in the surrounding area), were present in plenty of places along the summer vacation. St. Patrick's, in Arroyo Grande, stand to the left of the morning mass chapel (where the properly trained travelling pilgrim may stand for book prayer when they arrive), and there, in front of you, are the Ham, Isaac, and Jesus Christ trees. The place where the properly trained travelling pilgrim may stand for prayer after mass at Our Lady of Sorrows, downtown Santa Baraba, includes a beautiful view of the chicken witch pole against the great wall of Jonathan's. At the downtown Santa Barbara location the chicken witch pole itself is not near as grandiose as the 92037 design, but the next pole along the line, the Lt. Dan pole (when the remote control green eggs and ham crowd jericho parade turns up the storm and drives the target into a raging madman) has some particular attention shone on it by the surrounding elements. The viewing location also contains a strong relief for the rainbowtard business tree in the mid background, not so much of the grim reaper tree.

http://mapfortu.wikidot.com/

United States

Journal: Illustration of Press Function Under Fascist State

Journal by Jeremiah Cornelius

How much will this cost? What are possible unintended consequences? How long will it take? How will we know when it is over? No one seems to ask these questions. Instead this is considered to be journalism and reporting on the issue:

Over a dinner of D'Anjou pear salad and Chilean sea bass, Obama, Vice President Biden and the outside experts engaged in a deep discussion of the options to combat the Islamic State, those who participated said.

"D'Anjou pear salad" - how interesting. But what are the options discussed, what are their up- and downsides and what are their costs? There is nothing about that in the Washington Post. The fourth estate is gone, nowhere to be found.

http://www.moonofalabama.org/2014/09/the-stampede-towards-war-on-isis.html

Such access! So... embedded!

User Journal

Journal: 140909 (walking2)

Journal by HomelessInLaJolla

My summer vacation (cont.)

"It is a _town_, it is called Riverside. It is a place, it is called the RIVERSIDE TRANSIT CENTER. It is a transit center, busses go there, that is why it is a transit center. Where is the bus to go there?!!!!"

Yes, there in San Bernardino, there is a way to board the 215. Then there's the twenty-two to Elsinore. Exit to the AM/PM. I had a drink card from AM/PM with all necessary stamps and had been saving it since Carpenteria. In Carpenteria I had a few dollars and I knew that coffee or drink at will, given an appropriate AM/PM, would be useful later when there were no available dollars. That and a late morning prayer concluded a number of hours on the bus. Walk through Elsinore, walk through the downtown, say a few more prayers. On to the Wal-Mart center... and they have a Von's, too! I was thinking about staying the night but the seven arrived twice in a row and I decided not to miss it. Closer to the inland center I was out of bus money and the night was growing late, the light was running out. I passed the evening walking from one side of the freeway, by the McDonald's, to the other side with the filling station and taco drive-thru. Great time, nice people, by the morning I had a few dollars for the bus and the walk along the 23 route to find the next available Starbucks, about two or three miles. And a Ralph's with fabulous snicker's torte. Wonderful morning to arrive at Promenade. My bus book said there was no weekend service on the 202, and I didn't look very close by the time I walked around to find the parking structure transit center. I could have read the posted schedule to see three or four departures on Sunday but I had mostly planned to stand around Promenade for the day, anyway. Mojo supreme potatoes from Shakey's for dinner and the 76 station had fountain Dw and the peanuts. Wake up and on the 202, on the 101, no the 30, and back for morning mass. Reading the schedules in Oceanside I had not planned to return until closer to 7:30, and was only seven. Not much sleep but a great day.

http://mapfortu.wikidot.com/

--

This is my description of my summer vacation. Two weeks in Encinitas to eat plenty of cheeseburgers and tighten up the threads on the vehicle. Then walk for Temecula. Temecula up and down and around through Murrieta and to Elsinore. Bus to Riverside. Leave Riverside for a long walk of mixed uban fare, mostly peanuts and mixed bags of doritos. Walk through Beverly Hills, UCLA, Hollywood. Breakfast at Von's Hollywood. Hollywood to Milton, prayer at St. Sebastian's. Sepulveda to RInaldi, Rinaldi to Hampstead and Devonshire. Santa Susanna pass to Simi Valley. Nice place. Through Simi Valley to sleep next to a Cosmetology schoolon the way outside. Nice area, Simi Valley. Only one dog yammering all night long. Somewhere along the outside of Moorpark, never really saw that town. Long walk through plantation fields to an area of Oxnard where the 1 begins. That promptly diverges or ends and I walked near exactly the same route I drove when I remember having that problem eight years ago in a vehicle, attempting to find and follow the 1. Oxnard to a place on Victoria where there was a large open warehouse commercial space empty for lease. Spent a day or two sewing there, hoping to find a new pair of shoes. My shoes were wearing to the socks, at the top of the feet. If I could deteriorate to walking like a clodhopper (that's, umm, all of you) then the shoes have a good three or four weeks walking remaining at the ankle.

Oxnard up to Ventura, missed the exit to the bicycle path by about 100 yards, turned around to try and walk some way through Ventura, ended up in Ojai. New hat!

North of Ventura is a nice place known as Capenteria. The police advised me to keep walking for Santa Barbara. The police in Santa Barbara quickly informed me that they didn't like homeless people. Keep walking. Goleta, pick up a bell ornament for the hat. Goleta to Orcutt, that's good exercise. Orcutt for a few days, nice church, St. Louis de Montefort. The deputy himself arrived to counsel me that he didn't like me sitting around sewing ("Am I doing anything wrong yet?" after watching the cruisers circling for a morning "No, you're not doing anything wrong yet."). No sense arguing with the fellow that has handcuffs. Difficult to leave that situation. On to Santa Maria. I could stay here or keep walking. I'm more accustomed to leaving tonight rather than sticking around for morning. On from there, across a few fields, next to big power lines to sleep, then coffee in Nipomo. Never managed to find the church in Nipomo, wasn;t looking real hard. Stopped for a few hours to sew a repair or two then on to Arroyo Grande via Pomorroy. That was a fun walk. Arroyo Grande, Pismo Beach, pick up the peacock feather for the hat in Shell Beach. Shell Beach trolley driiver arrives at the moment morning prayer ended to ask if I would like a ride. I didn't see much of PIsmo Beach when I walked through, my kind of area, bowling alley, billiards and pool, and plenty of local and tourist name coffee houses for the tourists, good luck finding Starbucks. Shell Beach trolley driver takes me to Pismo Premium. Oh, now, here's an area. Shell Beach trolley driver hints that the bus north goes all the way to San Luis Obispo, and there's a mission there. A day thinking about it and then up to San Luis Obispo. The bishop is having lunch next week Sunday. Nice area, stay and sew for a week, have lunch with the bishop on Sunday, and then back to St. Patrick's and St. Paul's for a week. Everything in the Arroyo Grande area is another 2 miles just to pick up and walk somewhere else. Very different from 92037 around-the-block routine. Added another hundred miles waking up in the morning, walking to mass, and then to a grocery store area. Walk north through San Luis Obispo. Another nice walk. Walk north to, what, Morro Bay? I wasn't there for ten minutes to fix a few sticks on my hat while talking to a fella showing me where this and that (grocery, laundry, post office, library, the Arroyo Rock), then the whole place turned into a festival of dead reanimated carnival beasts (that's no dog, it's four fishing poles and a couch cushin, the skull is some old dog from the bottom of hell, it's dead, jim, but how do we know it? how do we know it? he's dead jim. The eyes are dead, those are not living eyes. He's dead jim. We know it's the truth but how do we know it?). I decided to walk for the 101. The map and the guide and the fella next to me confirmed that the next three anything through there weren't much larger than the filling station. Long walk up the 41 to Atascadero. Stay for two days and become inspired by a ten dollar bill and catch the bus returning to Santa Maria through San Luis Obispo. Santa Maria to Lompoco, another dead reanimated carnival beast festival as I passed through the town. Leave Lompoc on the 1, fun walk, but the walk up to Atascadero really wore me out. Why am I still walking 12-15-20 miles between towns and never seeing more than a day or two of rest?

If you leave everything behind you may walk further and longer, but it is only worth freezing to death once over. I did that one thousands of miles ago. When carrying everything, maybe a person may go three months, but there's a point where there's just no more point in wandering between towns like this.

The 1 back to Goleta is a nice walk, and I was helped by a fella, Mark. Arrive in Goleta on Friday night with a $15 card for Little Caesar's and extra dollars for coffee at McDonald's. Saturday morning prayer with St. Rafael (see the statue out front? he has wings... why yo' ass hurt so much, from having the wings tore off out of the steam press, that's why yo' ass so fat) and then on the bus to Santa Barbara. Spend Saturday vigil and Sunday with Fr. Raf at Our Lady of Sorrows and then on the bus on Monday, oh, shoot, Labor Day, well, back to morning mass and then catch the bus to Oxnard on Tuesday. Oxnard, walk around through Huanome to Camarillo.

A day in Camarillo, a small position in a jazz cafe washing dishes for two hours, twenty-five bucks, and bus money south to Simi Valley, then the Metrolink train to downtown LA Union. "Hello, I am going to Elsinore via Riverside. How do I go there?" "Red Line, 12:40 pm" "Is this MetroLink ticket good for transfer?" "No" (transfer passes usually lose a grade level at transfer points, no more riding the premium rails, trolley and bus only) "How many dollars to Riverside?" "$13" I don't have, $13. "How do I take the bus to Riverside" "You can't", then the equivalent of the THANK YOU and the window closing. I walk to the other customer service, ask same questions. "What you need to do is call this number."

I know there's a bus to Riverside, I've seen the book, I should have saved that bus book, the bus goes there, I know it does. I need the 68, 70, or 76 out of this place. Then I began remembering the walk around the days of Von's Hollywood, and it seemed if I could just make it back there (HAHAHA!) then I could remember the road back (that much longer). The police arrive to interrogate me. "I need to go to Riverside" I squeak, they begin giving the hard muscle stares, so I begin spouting bus numbers "10, 18, 30". The police are now upset. "There is no 10 or 30 from here!" he barks, and he's right. "What you need to do is go downstairs and get on the red line trolley to north Hollywood, that's where you want to go right?" I just want the officer to quit barking at me, and I had just been thinking that if I could just make it back to Von's Hollywood (HAHAHAHAHA!) then I could remember the road back.

So I arrive in north Hollywood and promptly decide that I should not have taken this line this direction. But there had been so much trouble at LA Union, the guards had to escort me through the pass checker point, because my ticket wasn't good as that transfer, or something, I don't know. I was perfectly blind after the encounter with the police, hardly knew which direction to go to ask for directions. So I walked back to downtown by following the signs (didn't intend to make it right back downtown at that exact point again, I was following the signs and reading directions on the way). Was advised by a passerby "Your pass is fine, good for all of today, just get on the gold rail going east"

Now if only I knew what bus to find after that. It wasn't until another night, after I spent the final remaining dollars on Starbucks and cookies (SUGAR, need SUGAR to keep knockin' down these miles), that, hey! look, right there in front of you, all the time. The 68. Walk through the Korean and Vietnamese districts watching the 68 go past me every twenty minutes or so, wishing I had bus fare. I yet didn't know how the 68 would make it to Riverside, only that such a feat was possible, and I had no excuse to ask the bus driver if I didn't yet have any fare in my pocket, so I kept walking on by general direction. Turns out that neat any of the transit centers from Fontana on will have some service-or-other to Riverside. Would have been nice to know that some select stations will see a bus from places, like, oh, PROMENADE in Temecula. At Baldwin Park I take the rail again (10:57, leaving, the hell with it, money or not I am on this rail). Then I knew, somehow or other, maybe I talked with somebody, but I knew the 215 goes to Riverside.

User Journal

Journal: Mars, Ho! Chapter Forty Nine

Journal by mcgrew

Landing
        The alarm woke me up. Still asleep I thought "damned whores" out of habit, thinking we were having an emergency before I remembered that we were due to enter orbit and I'd set the alarm myself the night before. We had been on approach since late yesterday afternoon and would be in orbit and docking with the maintenance facility at nine this morning. The landing boats would already be docked there and we would be on Mars' surface by late this afternoon.
        The alarm woke Destiny up, too, and she got up as I was making coffee. Destiny told the computer to make steak and scrambled eggs with toast, and we took a shower together.
        Wow! We were finally entering orbit around Mars and would be docking at nine and we hadn't died! Not yet, at least. The way this trip had gone we'd probably crash land on Mars, or get assassinated at the spaceport. I did have a price on my head, after all. Of course, they most likely didn't know my name or what I looked like, but the boat's new captain would probably be in danger.
        We put on the news and started eating breakfast and the doorbell rang. It was Tammy.
        "Hi, Tammy," Destiny said. "Want some breakfast?"
        "No, thanks," she said, "I already ate, but I'll take a cup of coffee if it isn't made by a robot. So, who's going to be your bridesmaid?"
        "Well, who do you think, silly," Destiny said. "You, of course. Who's going to be your best man, John?"
        "Bill, of course, but he won't be here for a week or more, he's on batteries."
        They started talking about clothes and I just kind of zoned out and nodded once in a while.
        At five 'til eight I went in the pilot room to finish getting us in orbit, and by eight thirty we were weightless and would be docking in a few minutes. I floated to my quarters.
        At quarter to nine the three of us started floating towards the docking bay that still worked without tearing up somebody else's docking bay and didn't have my boat attached, so we could meet the landing crafts' captains who would escort passenger and cargo to Mars. Then we'd take off in the houseboat and Tammy would go down with the droppers.
        I got on the PA. "Attention, ladies. Please assemble in docking bay one for landing."
        The boat docked a few minutes later as the droppers started showing up, and I greeted two of the three landing pilots, Tom Farley and Jim Woolsley. I'd known both of them for a few years, so we talked about old times as Destiny and Tammy said their goodbyes and cargo streamed in.
        They and Tammy started escorting the droppers to the landing boats while me and Destiny went to my houseboat to land on Mars. Lek walked by and said "Thank you, Captain."
        We undocked from the ship and flew down to Meridian spaceport together. Now if you guys will excuse me I need to buy a wedding ring.
        See you.

Next: Mars!

User Journal

Journal: 140908 (walking)

Journal by HomelessInLaJolla

This is my description of my summer vacation. Two weeks in Encinitas to eat plenty of cheeseburgers and tighten up the threads on the vehicle. Then walk for Temecula. Temecula up and down and around through Murrieta and to Elsinore. Bus to Riverside. Leave Riverside for a long walk of mixed uban fare, mostly peanuts and mixed bags of doritos. Walk through Beverly Hills, UCLA, Hollywood. Breakfast at Von's Hollywood. Hollywood to Milton, prayer at St. Sebastian's. Sepulveda to RInaldi, Rinaldi to Hampstead and Devonshire. Santa Susanna pass to Simi Valley. Nice place. Through Simi Valley to sleep next to a Cosmetology schoolon the way outside. Nice area, Simi Valley. Only one dog yammering all night long. Somewhere along the outside of Moorpark, never really saw that town. Long walk through plantation fields to an area of Oxnard where the 1 begins. That promptly diverges or ends and I walked near exactly the same route I drove when I remember having that problem eight years ago in a vehicle, attempting to find and follow the 1. Oxnard to a place on Victoria where there was a large open warehouse commercial space empty for lease. Spent a day or two sewing there, hoping to find a new pair of shoes. My shoes were wearing to the socks, at the top of the feet. If I could deteriorate to walking like a clodhopper (that's, umm, all of you) then the shoes have a good three or four weeks walking remaining at the ankle.

Oxnard up to Ventura, missed the exit to the bicycle path by about 100 yards, turned around to try and walk some way through Ventura, ended up in Ojai. New hat!

North of Ventura is a nice place known as Capenteria. The police advised me to keep walking for Santa Barbara. The police in Santa Barbara quickly informed me that they didn't like homeless people. Keep walking. Goleta, pick up a bell ornament for the hat. Goleta to Orcutt, that's good exercise. Orcutt for a few days, nice church, St. Louis de Montefort. The deputy himself arrived to counsel me that he didn't like me sitting around sewing ("Am I doing anything wrong yet?" after watching the cruisers circling for a morning "No, you're not doing anything wrong yet."). No sense arguing with the fellow that has handcuffs. Difficult to leave that situation. On to Santa Maria. I could stay here or keep walking. I'm more accustomed to leaving tonight rather than sticking around for morning. On from there, across a few fields, next to big power lines to sleep, then coffee in Nipomo. Never managed to find the church in Nipomo, wasn;t looking real hard. Stopped for a few hours to sew a repair or two then on to Arroyo Grande via Pomorroy. That was a fun walk. Arroyo Grande, Pismo Beach, pick up the peacock feather for the hat in Shell Beach. Shell Beach trolley driiver arrives at the moment morning prayer ended to ask if I would like a ride. I didn't see much of PIsmo Beach when I walked through, my kind of area, bowling alley, billiards and pool, and plenty of local and tourist name coffee houses for the tourists, good luck finding Starbucks. Shell Beach trolley driver takes me to Pismo Premium. Oh, now, here's an area. Shell Beach trolley driver hints that the bus north goes all the way to San Luis Obispo, and there's a mission there. A day thinking about it and then up to San Luis Obispo. The bishop is having lunch next week Sunday. Nice area, stay and sew for a week, have lunch with the bishop on Sunday, and then back to St. Patrick's and St. Paul's for a week. Everything in the Arroyo Grande area is another 2 miles just to pick up and walk somewhere else. Very different from 92037 around-the-block routine. Added another hundred miles waking up in the morning, walking to mass, and then to a grocery store area. Walk north through San Luis Obispo. Another nice walk. Walk north to, what, Morro Bay? I wasn't there for ten minutes to fix a few sticks on my hat while talking to a fella showing me where this and that (grocery, laundry, post office, library, the Arroyo Rock), then the whole place turned into a festival of dead reanimated carnival beasts (that's no dog, it's four fishing poles and a couch cushin, the skull is some old dog from the bottom of hell, it's dead, jim, but how do we know it? how do we know it? he's dead jim. The eyes are dead, those are not living eyes. He's dead jim. We know it's the truth but how do we know it?). I decided to walk for the 101. The map and the guide and the fella next to me confirmed that the next three anything through there weren't much larger than the filling station. Long walk up the 41 to Atascadero. Stay for two days and become inspired by a ten dollar bill and catch the bus returning to Santa Maria through San Luis Obispo. Santa Maria to Lompoco, another dead reanimated carnival beast festival as I passed through the town. Leave Lompoc on the 1, fun walk, but the walk up to Atascadero really wore me out. Why am I still walking 12-15-20 miles between towns and never seeing more than a day or two of rest?

If you leave everything behind you may walk further and longer, but it is only worth freezing to death once over. I did that one thousands of miles ago. When carrying everything, maybe a person may go three months, but there's a point where there's just no more point in wandering between towns like this.

The 1 back to Goleta is a nice walk, and I was helped by a fella, Mark. Arrive in Goleta on Friday night with a $15 card for Little Caesar's and extra dollars for coffee at McDonald's. Saturday morning prayer with St. Rafael (see the statue out front? he has wings... why yo' ass hurt so much, from having the wings tore off out of the steam press, that's why yo' ass so fat) and then on the bus to Santa Barbara. Spend Saturday vigil and Sunday with Fr. Raf at Our Lady of Sorrows and then on the bus on Monday, oh, shoot, Labor Day, well, back to morning mass and then catch the bus to Oxnard on Tuesday. Oxnard, walk around through Huanome to Camarillo.

A day in Camarillo, a small position in a jazz cafe washing dishes for two hours, twenty-five bucks, and bus money south to Simi Valley, then the Metrolink train to downtown LA Union. "Hello, I am going to Elsinore via Riverside. How do I go there?" "Red Line, 12:40 pm" "Is this MetroLink ticket good for transfer?" "No" (transfer passes usually lose a grade level at transfer points, no more riding the premium rails, trolley and bus only) "How many dollars to Riverside?" "$13" I don't have, $13. "How do I take the bus to Riverside" "You can't", then the equivalent of the THANK YOU and the window closing. I walk to the other customer service, ask same questions. "What you need to do is call this number."

I know there's a bus to Riverside, I've seen the book, I should have saved that bus book, the bus goes there, I know it does. I need the 68, 70, or 76 out of this place. Then I began remembering the walk around the days of Von's Hollywood, and it seemed if I could just make it back there (HAHAHA!) then I could remember the road back (that much longer). The police arrive to interrogate me. "I need to go to Riverside" I squeak, they begin giving the hard muscle stares, so I begin spouting bus numbers "10, 18, 30". The police are now upset. "There is no 10 or 30 from here!" he barks, and he's right. "What you need to do is go downstairs and get on the red line trolley to north Hollywood, that's where you want to go right?" I just want the officer to quit barking at me, and I had just been thinking that if I could just make it back to Von's Hollywood (HAHAHAHAHA!) then I could remember the road back.

So I arrive in north Hollywood and promptly decide that I should not have taken this line this direction. But there had been so much trouble at LA Union, the guards had to escort me through the pass checker point, because my ticket wasn't good as that transfer, or something, I don't know. I was perfectly blind after the encounter with the police, hardly knew which direction to go to ask for directions. So I walked back to downtown by following the signs (didn't intend to make it right back downtown at that exact point again, I was following the signs and reading directions on the way). Was advised by a passerby "Your pass is fine, good for all of today, just get on the gold rail going east"

Now if only I knew what bus to find after that. It wasn't until another night, after I spent the final remaining dollars on Starbucks and cookies (SUGAR, need SUGAR to keep knockin' down these miles), that, hey! look, right there in front of you, all the time. The 68. Walk through the Korean and Vietnamese districts watching the 68 go past me every twenty minutes or so, wishing I had bus fare. I yet didn't know how the 68 would make it to Riverside, only that such a feat was possible, and I had no excuse to ask the bus driver if I didn't yet have any fare in my pocket, so I kept walking on by general direction. Turns out that neat any of the transit centers from Fontana on will have some service-or-other to Riverside. Would have been nice to know that some select stations will see a bus from places, like, oh, PROMENADE in Temecula. At Baldwin Park I take the rail again (10:57, leaving, the hell with it, money or not I am on this rail). Then I knew, somehow or other, maybe I talked with somebody, but I knew the 215 goes to Riverside.

United States

Journal: Sleepwalkers 19

Journal by Jeremiah Cornelius
"The problem is that too many cooks in Washington are spoiling its Mideast soup. In his magnificent new book, "The Sleepwalkers," Prof. Christopher Clark of Cambridge describes how World War I was in part ignited by small numbers of anti-German officials in France, Russia, Serbia and Britain who often undermined their own government's moderate policies.
The same process occurred under President George W. Bush when cabals of neocon officials in the Pentagon, State Department, CIA and media drove the US into a calamitous war whose negative effects are still being felt.

Today, other pro-war cliques in official Washington are at it again, each trying to dominate policy. Add a bunch of pro-Israel billionaires who have bought both the Republican and Democratic parties, apparently including Hillary Clinton, the front-runner for the Democratic nomination for president."

SCCS, the source motel! Programs check in and never check out! -- Ken Thompson

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