Monthly Archives: June 2012

Fwd: So what now? A letter from the Ron Paul campaign.

This morning, the Supreme Court released its long-awaited ruling on ObamaCare.

Unfortunately, Chief Justice John Roberts tipped the scales to officially uphold the vast majority of the health care law.

While the Court rejected Congress having the power to enforce the individual mandate under the Commerce Clause, it upheld the mandate as a tax.

This means that not only can Congress take your hard-earned dollars to fund its out-of-control agenda, but it can also tax you for doing nothing.

We’re still learning more as further details and analysis emerge.

But one silver lining seems to be that our efforts on the state level to prevent the implementation of ObamaCare’s health exchanges could get a boost, as the Court is preventing the federal government from forcing the states to either implement the law or lose Medicaid funding.

The decision by a Bush-appointee to join the Court’s left-wing in holding up the individual mandate is being described as a political victory for Obama.

Perhaps.  But it’s clear the real losers are the American people.

And in one of the most dramatic expansions of federal government power in decades, both parties can claim credit.

The hated individual mandate in ObamaCare has been pushed by members of BOTH parties.

And now it’s been upheld by a Republican-appointed Supreme Court Justice.

So what now?

Since both parties haven’t hesitated to work to increase government’s power, C4L’s grassroots activists must keep up the pressure to make sure that any repeal efforts – which are guaranteed to come – aren’t just ObamaCare by another name.

Simply put, you and I must continue an uncompromising fight for health freedom.

Regardless of what the Court says about government forcing the American people to purchase a particular product, it doesn’t make such action right.

Health care costs have skyrocketed, especially in recent years, due to relentless government interference.

And now that interference will increase more than ever before.

But so will the intensity of our opposition, as more people outraged by a government that has abandoned the Constitution take a stand.

So it’s critical you and I not only refuse to back down, but redouble our resolve to act.

It’s time to return to basics, get the government out of the way, and allow a true free market in health care.

Let Americans purchase health insurance across state lines – and get rid of the “tax” that forces them to carry coverage.

Stop government attacks on alternative treatments and supplements.

Lower taxes, rein in the Federal Reserve, and cut spending so we not only get to keep more of our money to use on necessities like health care, but so those dollars will go further.

These are just a few of the options we can pursue instead of allowing government to grow ever bigger and make another problem it helped create even worse.

Campaign for Liberty will continue its fight to advance health freedom on both the national and state levels, so I hope you will help us if you can with whatever you are able to give today.

Never allow any government decision – be it a Court opinion or legislation – to discourage your commitment to fighting for liberty.

Every day brings its own set of challenges, but the principles of freedom remain as true, powerful, and worth championing as ever!

In Liberty,

Matt Hawes
Vice President

P.S. Unfortunately, Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts joined the Court’s left-leaning justices to uphold the vast majority of ObamaCare, including ruling that the individual mandate could be enforced as a tax.

So our battle continues!

The American people should be free to make their own health care decisions, and Campaign for Liberty will continue its work to advance health freedom on both the national and state levels.

So if you’re able, I hope you’ll contribute whatever you can today to help us carry the banner of free market, liberty-based solutions in the continuing debate over health care.

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Posted by on June 28, 2012 in Conservative Hippyism Concepts


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The Enigma of Humanity

Aside from death, when are we done understanding our humanity? Are we done understanding it in death? We have many theories of psychology and biology. We can study history and mathematics to try to unravel the theory. Conservative Hippyism teaches that is the actions we take, even when no one is watching and recording or studying, that define our humanity. The Conservative Hippy knows that history can be rewritten, and actively so. Many Universities and other public institutions of higher op-POSE-ition are teaching PUBLIC HISTORY as a major. When the theory is espoused it is hard to argue that it is not the active rewriting and socialist slanting of current events to be recorded as fact. See for yourself.

In each day, concepts, principles and action guide the Conservative Hippy’s life, everywhere we exist. The theory is nice, but it is the steps of action that we take, one at a time which really prove or disprove the theory on a daily basis. The studies of life that we learn can be manipulated to fit our own desperate needs. One may say that out founding fathers were devout Christians who intended this country to be a monotheistic nation following the Laws of Moses. We can have an exhausting conversation about the founding fathers and the founding of this nation without mentioning GOD or religion. I would find it nearly impossible to have a conversation about civilization, especially western civilization without describing God, gods, or divine providence.


Principle Before Personality

How base our culture has become when the hunt for truth tellers is more compelling than the cessation of unlawful government killing. If the president can fight private wars and start public ones on his own, and the public is induced to focus on those who have told us what he is doing and not on his misdeeds themselves, and Congress remains a potted plant or willing dupe, the president can get away with anything.

–Andrew Napalitano, a former judge of the Superior Court of New Jersey

Conservative Hippyism holds as one of it’s Basic Tenets that we argue the principles of governance, lifestyle, coolness, and the application thereof to ourselves first and foremost. If we want to change the world everyone knows you start with one’s self. You start by applying principles,  not simply changing your personality. That’s what the op-POSE-ition does. In fact, that’s the very definition of it: being a poser. When I was a kid, if  I was caught wearing vans, Vision Street Wear, or any other skateboarding attire but I was not known as a skater,  I was a poser. Similarly since I grew up at the Jersey Shore, I had better own a surfboard, or at least a Boogie Board if I was walking around in my corduroy Billabong jacket. That made me a poser too. I lived two blocks from the beach and wore whatever shorts fit me,  preferably cutoffs when I went into the ocean. Not really caring what subclass I represented. But I did know I didn’t want to misrepresent. Whether because of social pressure, or because it just didn’t feel right, being a poser was one of the worst crimes. I think second only to being a rat.

Then Licensed to Ill came out. I realized that being grimy and not representing anything but yourself was really the way to go. Slow and low that is the tempo. I mean, Appetite for Destruction was good, don’t get me wrong, but Licensed to Ill, while full of personality was really an album of principle. Ask somebody. The late Adam Yauch certainly stood for his principles. He did more to bring awareness – and white people do love awareness, but that’s somebody else’s blog – but also brought a lot of action to the Free Tibet movement. Whether not it accomplish anything is still a valid argument. The point is: I knew then that I need to represent myself and have something to base my personality on not vice versa. (Vice-a-versa for hipsters)

The Conservative Hippie knows the life of principle will affect his personality. Conservative Hippyism teaches that trying to create principle based upon the personality you’d like to portray is gossamer. Think of all the hip-hop acts in the day that started shaving their head, wearing black clothing, and took on gangsta style cursing on their albums when the first three or four didn’t sell in that regard. I know RUN DMC even tried it on their album cover “Down with the Kings.” They always wore black, however on that album its was different, compare it to the almighty “Raising Hell” or “Tougher Than Leather.”  I know MC Hammer tried it. I know Public enemy never tried it, never compromised. I know that A Tribe Called Quest never went gangster. But Q-tip did go booty music and the Tribe is never been the same if they still exist.

When I saw Public enemy in 1989 in Orlando Florida, it was one of the biggest best concerts I’ve ever been to. It was Heavy D and the Boys, Queen Latifah, a dude named Chill Rob G who claimed co-authorship of the one time hit “The Power” which was always attributed to an artist named Snap. Public Enemy headlined, oh yeah, and Kid-N-Play was there. If you got to ask I’m not telling you, and their show was all about principle. I know,  I know it’s hard to say principal before personality when talking about somebody like Flavor Flav, but when it’s anchored by Chuck D who has a fictitious yet still effective S1W (Soldiers of the 1st World) dancing on stage in paramilitary gear led by a sincerely hate filled man by the name of Prof. Griff, it’s hard to say that the man isn’t driven by principal.

I digress.

I feel that in today’s world Conservative Hippyism and the Conservative Hippies everywhere are appalled, just appalled at the way gay marriage is looked upon as a principal. It is a clash of personalities nothing more and nothing less. Conservative Hippyism is against concentrating on whether or not the president is on a TV show, whether or not a candidate eats donuts whether or not either of their wives have worked a day in their life or how expensive they’re closing is. The cult of personality to which we are all a part in one way or another, has taught us to look at a person for their social acceptability rather than the ways in which the principles they represent will affect our society.

Principles before personalities also allows us to differ with one another and still protect and respect one another under our flag. Whether it’s here in Florida, where a man may have gone too far in standing his ground, is dissected and all of his financial records become a judgment of whether or not the shooting was justified, or whether or not his financial records paint a picture of good or bad guy, or if it’s on the national scene and we decide that somebody isn’t fit to be president because they slow jam on a nightly television show that barely anybody watches anyway, or if it’s international and we decide that we’re to support a cause, just or not, by wearing T-shirts, buying bumper stickers, denouncing capitalism in our consumerism,  and trying to create for ourselves the personality that we want to portray by pretending to care for principal. That’s a long ass sentence. I know.

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Posted by on June 19, 2012 in Uncategorized


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The Gardens-Intro (W.I.P)

The Gardens

There were so many dreams. So many that seemed so real. So many that seemed surreal. Dreams that occurred during cat naps, after night caps, and dreams that occurred during the deepest slumbers sawing lumber, had seemed the same. Fall asleep, have a drawn-out dream full of color and flavor and feelings. When you wake up it could be tomorrow, or a minute later. Either way just less color, less flavor, less feeling. So many unrealized, or forgotten upon waking, were still dreams. Is that the ultimate human goal, to realize them? The raisin in the sun is typically more human. Even the visions occurring in the drunken mind, the brain that passed out and came to, not really falling asleep and waking, they were still dreams.

They are elusive, they are abstract, and they are symbolic. It seems that every dream book in the world has an interpretation for the visions. They all mean something, every little nuance. The barking dog in the dream foretells a stranger coming into your life, the dragon means good luck. The numbers never mean lottery unfortunately. It can be disappointing to awaken from the really good ones. When they are interrupted by life we are seldom able to regain a grip. The opposite is also true. Life that constantly gets interrupted by dreaming, sometimes it’s hard to get a grip.

Waking can be a welcome respite. It is a break from those pesky dreams and awful moments of rest and peace.  Just as your great palindromic racecar dream takes you to the finish line, the road could crumble and your nightmare can begin. Nightmares are welcome sometimes, let you know you are alive, maybe they are a warning. Some people could get a stop sign right in the face, and keep going. We all know better than the third base coach don’t we? I;m faster than the rest, I’ll beat the throw home. A dream certainly wouldn’t be heeded. Some people have to feel it to believe it, the hard headed, the addict and the drunk. How many dreams deferred, for the life of pleasure, the lamp extinguished, and other’s pain.

A thought or anxiety taken to bed, clung to as a teddy bear, will be there in your dreams and there promptly when wake you up. Take your work to bed and watch that stress become a demon or a car wreck in your sleep, a stiff neck or a migraine in the morning. You’ll wish you were hung-over. The television loves to creep into dreams, shaping their narrow plots, changing every half hour or so, putting celebrities in supporting roles. Ask any bartender or food server about their dreams, the work related ones. It’s always the same: The weeds. Eat a late snack before bed, the undigested bit of cheese, and your old friend Jacob Marley could pay you a visit.  Enough stress and turmoil and you could wake more tired than when you went to bed, seemingly unrested. Then what? The ghosts of workdays past and presumed stress to come.

A fall from a tall building to the concrete below, a gunshot that blares like an alarm clock siren, flailing through waves unable to breathe, a chimpanzee-cousin-reflex that keeps us from falling from trees; or is it a more evolved choice to escape? What wakes us? Our eyes open.  Are we simply rested enough? Some have an uncanny ability to keep time while they are sleeping. The internal-alarm-clock-people can just tell themselves when to awaken and they do. Accidentally, or incidentally, some just get up to pee and try to go back to bed, realizing there will be no comfort left. Those few minutes between when someone’s anxiety wakes him up and the exact time set for the alarm are always interesting. Do you try to get back to sleep for two or three minutes, call yourself a go-getter and start out of bed, or call it a draw and watch the clock tick?

The snooze buttons on alarm clocks typically consent to nine minutes of consolation. A queer allotment for sure. Should you set your alarm for twenty-seven minutes early or an even half hour, knowing it takes three alarms to get your dead-ass out of bed? Forget all the rules and laws of averages if you are really hung over.

It is a fact that quite often when a good portion of the alcohol in the body is metabolized it turns to sugar and increases the poor aching dehydrated man’s heart rate. The living dead awake and attempt to cope.  It’s not the beginning of the Zombie Apocalypse, but he could fit right in. A greasy breakfast or a handful of ibuprofen and a glass of water combined with the coldest darkest room ever and a huge comforter is the ticket back to the dream tree to test that reflex. A lot of that was routine. Not as much now. He thinks he’s wakened. There are certainly fewer dreams these days, which he can remember, or to which he will admit.

Some days the eyes feel so heavy, he swears they are made of stone, or steel, yeah steel. They are those jingly little steel balls in a silk lined box you can buy from the Chinese import store, the ones that are marketed as circulation enhancers but your friends swear are Ben-Wah sex toy balls. His sockets aren’t silk-lined. His eye sockets are red, swollen and dry like a diseased wound, but dry.  Heavy steel balls stuck in swollen dry wounds with rigid clam shells for lids. These are the good days lately; the ones that start like this. No more hibernating until the next gorge. There were a collection of unsure emotions to experience and feel. At least he can feel.

He was just tired, or dehydrated from eating too much salt, maybe just tired. The corners of his mouth melted, giving him a jowl and scowl look. It was as if he was tremendously sad, or morbidly pissed. At least he was shaven. That felt good. It felt agreeable when he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, his clam shell lids, shut tightly like, well, a clam. When the heels of his hand retreated down the face letting the fingers press against the eyes, just before they opened, they glide over smooth cheeks and scornful expression. Very smooth, very close, which felt agreeable, at least he was shaven. He took another pass at his jaw line with the back of his left hand. From right jaw, across the chin and from left jawbone across the chin. He was agreeable and clean feeling. If only his eyes weren’t hot and heavy and hard. It felt like another hangover.

He knew the feeling well. Nearly half of the last half of his life was a hangover.  Maybe it was more. Math was never a strong suit. He is actually proud of not having tried to do any mathematics. There was the first college year in Daytona, drunk nearly everyday. There were the remaining five and a half next years of college, earning a bachelor’s degree in education out of spite. There was the month in Ireland- everyday. There were certain toilet paper stringer memories of benders here and there lingering and littering, hanging from shame trees in the perpetual night before Halloween in his head.  At least he can feel.

That’s it. That’s what I’ll tell all those people, friends I guess, that’s what I’ll tell them when they keep asking how I feel or am I feeling better. At least I can feel. That sounds like deep shit. This is what he sold himself…………………………………..

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Posted by on June 15, 2012 in Uncategorized


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Pathway: A 100 Word Story

PathwayEvery Wednesday Madison Woods provides a prompt for writing. Every Friday she shares all the entries which have been posted on her comments section, with a link back to the original. It’s a great activity and I am jumping on board. As opposed to jumping on, bored.







Photo prompt for 6/13


102 words

My horse must think it queer, to have left him home and attempted this uphill path alone. I’m  first to travel this way or there would be no path to follow, right? What the hell, one foot in front of the other I say.  I am beginning to say anywa..what was that noise?! I am alone in the woods trying to be the first up the mountain and reserve my camping site at the top. What is that noise? It’s not a howl. A whistle? An unintentional whistle?  Some hot air escapes from a tight space, and where is it coming fro

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Posted by on June 13, 2012 in 10 Minute exercises


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Not the Right Voice

I’ve always been a fan of Apocalypse now. I felt that all movies ought to be made in this fashion. The very first time I saw it was as a teenager, I was awestruck a the intensity the monstrosity and of course the horror, the horror- all narrated by a very intense Martin Sheen.

The shark in JAWS may have made us wait before giving us more than a fin to show itself. We had a Vietnam Nam lesson and a photograph before we got to see Col. Kurtz. Then, it wasn’t some animatronic replica. It was the Godfather.

I could go on about the magic of beginning a movie with a song called “The End” and the parallels of the slaying of the cattle and the death of Kurtz and the gift of seeing a young Fishburn, the genius of Dennis Hopper playing himself, how the river is an allegory and that Apocalypse is not a Viet Nam movie anymore than The Shining is about hotel management.

I wrote a whole paper in college just about Duval’s “Charlie don’t surf!” scene.

When I found out that the movie was based on Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness I was confused. Coppola had made a documentary about making Apocalypse by the same name. How could the movie be based on the documentary about making that movie? WTF?

When it all cleared up for me I attempted to read Conrad’s story. I first tried while in bed avoiding my in-laws one weekend. That made a mess. What I had gleaned was an incredible sense of narrative and history while trying hard to find the parallels to the movie I loved so much. I could pick up the separate yet similar voice of the cruising yawls captain, Marlow. I tried to compare it to Martin Sheen but it was doing neither of them any justice. The Belgian colonization of the Congo was not a history I knew very well either.

I then decided to download an audio copy of Darkness from an erudite all classics should be free site. I wanted to hear the literal voice of a gritty boat captain experiencing the Congo(?) on his way to find his Kurtz. What I got was the voice of a volunteer reader. The high pitched, adolescent tone and inflections of a teenage girl. Who the fuck thought that would be a great idea?

Before I sound as ungrateful as I am, I have heard a man with a British accent do Sherlock Holmes. I heard a woman due the voice of Wendy Darling from Peter Pan. All from the same free download site. I couldn’t get at least a middle aged man to dictate Heart of Darkness. It’s the psychological journey that supplies the action and the subsequent morph of character which drives the reader down the river with Marlowe. No little girl is gonna do that for me, and that’s not massagony or chauvinism.

This brings me back to the obvious. I am going to have to read the story and stop being lazy. I’m just leary of being able to find the right voice. When I read The Rum Diary I was able to attribute Hunter Thompson’s undeniable complexity and mumble.

I know that a literary voice is more than just the sound somebody makes when they speak. But when it comes to something that’s narrated it’s hard to get past that. The first person limited literary device always intrigued me since The Great Gatsby. You could retell the story, interestingly I’m sure, from the point of view of anyone else but it would not be the same story. And you wouldn’t create an audiobook in the voice of an aging old Irish lady pretending to be Nick Carraway.

The combination of syntax, diction, dialogue style and even punctuation make up a literary voice. I believe American literature and the English language provide a vast opportunity for using this device. It shows the experience and beliefs of a character without having to expressly state them.

Chinua Achebe called Conrad a racist. Many think that misses the point entirely. A teenage girl couldn’t relay it if it were.

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Posted by on June 7, 2012 in Uncategorized


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