This is not a revelation; it's not even an original thought. We frown on original thought here.

I first read George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four in...well....1976.

At the time, as a young man of (AGE REDACTED), and in the time of upheaval that was the end of the Nixon administration and the push-back that became the Carter administration that later became the push-back that became the Glorious Day of Reagan....

Well, needless to say that although I was fairly attuned to what was going on (I was an incorrigible 'need to know' kid), but had no idea on how things ran until....

Wait.

I still don't REALLY know how things run.

And if I do, I can't tell you.

And if I do, and I can't tell you...I have to say that you DON'T WANT TO KNOW.

I know and I DON'T WANT TO KNOW sometimes.......

But there is digression here.

The whole idea at the time seemed absurd....how could a country such as ours, who had served as a beacon for the world, could be turned into what we perceived our enemy to be? And by enemy, I mean the Soviet Union, frozen in the image of Stalinistic Creepiness.

A country where 85% of the population answers to the other 15%, which controls all the media, the economy, and the military forces.
A country that has boiled it's language down to the very basics, eliminating art, and poetry, and drama.
A country perpetually at war, with enemies that may, or may not exist.
A country who's government monitors everything, including the thoughts of the populace.
A country where torture is acceptable at even the lowest levels.

Surely, this would never happen here.

Sometimes, it just doesn't pay to get out of bed.

When in doubt....make Shadow Puppets!

Well, this is awkward.

There is nothing in the goings-on here on the Great Mudball Satellite that has peaked my curiosity and interest.

CNN and FAUX News have let me down.

Or, I'm not paying as much attention as I used to.

It's raining here right now; the kind that's accompanied by the percussion of the thunder.

So, that's your weather update from the Northern State.

In sports:

The Tigers are on a 3 game winning streak.

The Red Wings are playing like every game is Game 7. Tonight at the Joe is game 6. Frankly, I didn't expect it to go five. We don't just have Winged Wheels...we have Winged Wheels on FIRE!

When the sun is golden and the leaves are green.

As you well know, or can gather from the time and date stamps on some of these entries, I work in the dead of the night. And recently, we changed the schedule a little bit...the upside is that I only work four days a week; the downside is that each day becomes two hour longer.

Today is a grand experiment, so to speak. Lately, the days have been almost unbearable. And by days, I mean nights. And by unbearable, I mean suicide inducing. So, today....is the first of the ten hour shifts.

But that's not what I want to talk about.

I sleep during the daytime. I get to bed sometime around 1 PM, and I awaken sometime around 9 PM. And in my youth, I could sleep at a moments notice. I could drop off for twenty minutes, and I'd be good for awhile. In fact, I could work around the clock for several days if I got a 20 minute nap every so often. But in my age, I've found that sleeping in the daytime is hard.

Largely, because people feel it's their right to be loud in the daytime.
Selfish bastards.

Actually, a little of it might be that my adult-wired brain hasn't quite put down the idea that when the sun is up, you're supposed to be working.

Either way.....night's are hard when days are awake. I'm no longer that young guy.

But I did dream last night (afternoon). I was sitting under a tree, in a quiet park, with a stream running through it. It was a very temperate day, so I assume Spring or Fall.....and I was reading THE ONCE AND FUTURE KING.

Heaven.

What's in a name, exactly?

So...the various tribes of Apache are looking for an apology for the naming of a recent action by Navy Seals as "Operation Geronimo."

Remember when I was talking about perspective the other day? Here's another example...

When I saw that they had named the Operation "Geronimo", I was very impressed that they had named the operation after a character from Thomas Kyd's THE SPANISH TRAGEDY; the character of Jeronimo (sometimes spelled Heironimo and yes, Geronimo) is driven mad by the machinations of those around him, and eventually does unthinkable crimes (let's just say that some of the fun of TITUS ANDRONICUS was influenced by THE SPANISH TRAGEDY).

The name made perfect sense to me, given that perception.

I would also like to point out that Kyd named his character sometime between 1582 and 1592....some 237 years or so before the famed Apache was born.

It would be insensitive for me to go any further on this subject.

I'm just going to put on this parachute, and let myself out...

JERONIMO!

I like my Cinco de Miracle Whip.....

Cinco de Mayo!

For those that assume it's Mexican Independence Day....it's not. It is the day in which they commemorate a victory over the French in the Battle of Puebla.

They commemorate with large amounts of Tequila, apparently.

Americans tend to simply commemorate that it's the Fifth of May....with large amounts of Tequila.

On the Fifth of May, everybody becomes a Mexican, similar to the way that everybody becomes an Irish Catholic on St. Patrick's Day.

Of course, St. Patrick had to drive the Snakes (Druids) out of Ireland (by slaughtering them, no doubt). The Mexicans simply had to defeat the French.

And we all know the history of French warfare. It's best summed up by Janitor Willie, who refers to them as "Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeys."

Those of my brethren often refer to days like this as "amateur night." When far too many people drink far too much and wind up doing far to many stupid things.

Be careful, my friends.

Most of you are funny to watch when you're drunk; and I would miss that if you were jailed or in otherwise incapacitated.

Ole! And whatnot.....

In the silence between the act and the aftermath.....

Oh, the nightmares I had last night, my friends.

And all the thoughts that run through my head.....

It isn't pleasant in the corners of my mind this morning:

I have images of grieving families all over the world.

I have a quiet pride for the men and women who stand on front lines and do unpleasant things to protect me and my right to speak my mind....but I hold their bravery in the highest of esteem.

I have images of people celebrating in the streets at the destruction of people and property in the early days of the last decade; and I have images of people celebrating the killing of a single man in the desert.

I was angry when I saw the first. And I was ashamed when I saw the second.

Yes...a few days ago I vented my feelings at the results; and I stand by them not as an exultation of joy, but as a guy who's life was complicated by the man's presence, and will be further complicated by the man's absence.

I'm reminded that we are all of us, Americans, descended from those that used violence to break from what they considered their oppressors. We dumped tea into the harbor dressed as Indians. We stood behind rocks and trees when most armies still met in long lines on the field of battle.

I'm also reminded of a great novella written by Richard Matheson, called I AM LEGEND; and one of the guiding principles of the novel was the fact that when everybody turns into vampires....then the humans are actually the disease. It's a question of perspective.

I have done my best in my sobriety to remove malice from my heart; but I am human and the need for vengeance runs in our blood. I have turned to Faith to help out, but religion rears its ugly head from time to time and that confuses the issue. But I bear no malice for those that seek to avenge themselves upon us for whatever reasons they need to justify the behavior.

I seek, as I have always sought, to understand. And understanding requires knowledge; and knowledge requires conversation.....not preaching, or pontification, but honest conversation.

When knowledge is achieved, and parity is met, then through that a comfortable peace will be achieved.....

Then I'll dance in the streets.

And I would be pleased if you would all join me; it's been far too long since we all danced with spirit and love and abandon.

a quck note.

I take no satisfaction in the death of any man.

But Farewell, you Bastard.