7/30/09

Against Stupidity The Gods Themselves Struggle in Vain








I was reminded of the above Freidrich von Schiller quote from 18th century when I was blog walking and read an attack on Bill Maher on Eye of Polyphemus.

Eye of Polyphemus is one of the few conservative blogs I can read. The author Jamie Jeffords does know how to use the shift key instead of writing in all caps unlike most of the other conservative sites I’ve visited and he does actually try to make sense out of the Republican talking points. But there is only so far you can polish a turd.

Plus he puts lots of pictures of scantily clad starlets on his blog.

The post was about if the United States is a stupid country, so I responded with a few examples of stupid political movements that highlight the stupid.

1) Birthers.


People who don’t believe that President Obama was born. These people make up nearly a third of the Republicans and they are bat-shit crazy. In an earlier post I compared them to both the Moon Hoax people and the South Park Underwear Gnomes.

Basically they have a lot in common with the Moon Hoax people in that they will ignore any and all evidence presented to them.

2) Tea-Baggers


The Fox News sponsored Tea-Bagging Movement is a great place for nut-jobs to meet.

The premise behind the Tea-Bagging movement is they are protesting the fact that President Obama is shifting the $900 Billion that the Republicans had been giving out to corporations in no-bid contracts for non-existent services, into things like job programs and healthcare.

The idea seems to be that government should only rob the poor to help the wealthy, not help citizens for the common good.

Naturally when you get a group of people together to support such a wacky idea you are going to attract the super crazies, like the Neo-Nazis who look at these events as recruiting grounds and the people who want to burn books because they contain liberal things like facts.

3) Intelligent Design Supporters.



These are people that think schools should throw out hundreds of years of logical conjecture based on overwhelming observable evidence in favor of a scientific theory that relies on “Because I say so.” As its major point.

Confronted with overwhelming observable evidence of evolution isn’t a problem for these people they simply make up a different enemy, “Darwinists”.

They claim only Darwinists are allowed to teach in Universities, which is odd considering no Biology Professor that I’ve ever met has called themselves a “Darwinist”. One would think if Universities only hire “Darwinists” that you could find a “Darwinist” University Professor.

Now, if you want to claim that Universities hire science Professors that teach theories based on hundreds of years of logical conjecture based on overwhelming observable evidence like, gravity, entropy, and evolution then they have a point as that is what science is.

4) Climate Change Deniers



These are people that think just because the world burns enough oil every day that if it were put into barrels and they were laid end to end they would circle the globe 2 and half times, it can’t have any impact on the environment.

They simply ignore the observable facts about climate change.
A. The troposphere, the lowest layer of the atmosphere is getting warmer, while the Stratosphere, the atmospheric layer above it is getting colder.

This is because carbon dioxide in the troposphere traps the heat and doesn’t allow it to rise into the stratosphere and then be dissipated into space.

B. The temperature is rising at the poles.
As air warms at the equator it spreads out across the planet, as it does this the troposphere loses heat to the stratosphere making the temperature at the poles much cooler. (This is a gross simplification of the process but it illustrates the concept). Carbon Dioxide traps this heat so it transfers more efficiently to the poles.

On the planet and Moon in the solar system that have a runaway greenhouse effect, Venus and Titan there is little change in temperature from the equator to the poles. This is the tell-tale sign of the greenhouse effect.

Now as to the effects that Global Warming will bring to the planet there is a lot of room for debate. In fact I’ve written a post on it. “3 of the greatest imaginary threats to our Nation.”

At the time I wrote that the data showing that the poles are warming up faster than predicted was classified for National Security under the Bush Administration so I will raise my prediction to a 4-degree change over the next 100 years.

The fact that climate change is happening is impossible to deny.





It’s pretty clear what these groups all have in common, the ability to deny overwhelming evidence that is right in front of their face and claim any evidence is part of a liberal conspiracy, or as Stephen Colbert put it, “Part of the liberal bias of reality”.

The worst part of the stupidity of these groups is not that they are stupid in the sense of diminished mental capacity, but that they are stupid by choice. And since they are stupid by choice they feel that everyone around them should make the same choice and embrace the stupid.

The weird thing is they are against the “Intellectual elite” which should mean they would think being called the opposite “Stupid” is a compliment, but they get mad at being called that.

7/29/09

you

down, through time,
in journals, diaries,
and whatever is proclaimed,
your love of me,
so devoutly exclaimed,
will stand
as the singular
such expression,
however explained;

oh, my sweet baby,
how you make my bells
ring;
how, holy cow,
how you make my heart
sing,
how you make better
the pain of my prior
sting,
how you make
everything:
better;

you claim,
in your modesty,
not to be a writer,
to which I disagree,
but your love for me,
is a proof much tighter:
it is easy to see,
that your talents
stretch farther
than any eye can see,
even farther than the eye
of love,
which clearly
resides in me.


July 29, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/28/09

burned

into my memory cells,
every hurt,
every wrong done,
as a baby,
as a child;
every silly slight,
held small in the
offender's eyes,
but in my mind's camera,
so, so very bright;

into my memory cells,
all the dismal failures,
upon which
one's mind dwells,
as a young one,
as an adult one,
and yet:

into my memory cells,
there is seared
You,
and that makes
all of the rest,
ignorable.



July 28, 2009, for the Wifey. Which the bitch will not get to read. Ha ha. Hey, that rhymed. I may be onto something. Ha ha.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

looking #2

the strawberry blonde
with a great rack
eyes me with suspicion
as I watch her dig in her purse,
looking for
something;
I am looking
for something too,
and she wonders
wordlessly
if it is her;
sadly, no.
I am looking
for answers,
but I doubt that
I will find them
here, in the Rite Aid
parking lot.
But hey,
you never know.



July 28, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/27/09

para tu

there were many before you,
that, I cannot deny;

but as my daughters are witnesses,
there will be no other,
even to the day that I die;

you, solo en el mundo,
mi amor,
it is you that I will adore;

este vida,
and more,
y mas,
este amor;

and through all the doubters,
the midnight ramblers,
the outers:
I remain to you,
simple, easy,
and forever true.



July 27, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/26/09

loneliness

a wise person, some time back,
I don't know who,
and a Google search revealed:
no answers.

well, he or she said that
"if we could cure loneliness,
we would solve most of
our problems,"
or words to that effect;

and I was thinking today,
how we might be getting closer
to actually doing that,
with things like facebook,
and myspace,
and the other 48
quintillion websites,
the "social" networks;

aren't all networks social?

isn't any interaction
between two or more,
social?

it is pretty basic, really:
if I love you,
and I tell you so,
I have engaged in a
social interaction,
which sounds so
clinical,
but still,

as my late Daddy
used to say:
"Love me now, when
I am here."

July 26, 2009.
Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/25/09

steam

I enter the house,
after a long day out in the soil,
tired, worn,
from the work of a gardener;

I seek only a hot shower,
and the quiet of a few moments,
before Life overtakes me,
that which I cannot till,
or weed, or furrow;

and as I emerge, wet,
slippery, hot,
I find you there,
arms open, and so very
happy to have me,
and have me you do,
just as always:
one to one,
tons of quiet, slow,
deliberate fun;
passion so slow, so
sure
that if it were an illness,
I would seek no cure;

what more could I ask for?



July 25, 2009, for the Wifey, who has no comparison.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

why

part of why each of us is scared
from time to time, baby,
is because as deep as our love runs,
we do not know where it will take us;
and I pray that we can exist
just like this;
and if I believed in magic, like you do,
that you could, sometimes,
leave there, and come here,
and we could at last
be together;
alas, I do not think that such
can ever be so;
but I love you so,
that I wish that wishing
could make it so.



July 24, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

Expediency Should NOT Be the Objective!

A Piece About Gestures and Winking and Going Throught the Motions

This is an update on my latest goings-on with Massasoit Community College's Police Department, and their refusal to do the right thing.



I have more to say to you at the Massasoit Community College Police Department. You are a bunch of cowards. Maybe not a bunch. Maybe just a couple of gutless pukes with more power than they know how to handle or deserve, who are calling the shots in this mess, to the reluctantly supportive dismay of some of your fellow MCCPD brethren in blue. I go that far to avoid the generalization because there are two among you who I think probably have at least an ounce of integrity, but who cannot afford to be outgoing in any expressions of non-unity with or within your own department.

To wit: my latest "outting" at the Brockton Trial court. Yes, I had to visit this lovely hall of justice yet again to answer to a charge of "trespassing" for actions that no decent, thinking person should ever deam criminal or even subversive. And, to one who would dare to suggest that a cop can tell a law-abiding citizen to get lost just because, in his opinion, said citizen's mere presence is "antagonistic" - you are so dead wrong and can kiss my ass. And then, you can go take a good look at the MGLs.

Oh, and while you're at it, take a gander at a little bit of doctrine known as the Bill of RIghts. Yeah, I like those first ten amendments a whole lot. I am particularly enamored of amendments 5, 6 and 8. Oh, and that pesky constitutional clause prohibiting the making or enforcing of any Ex Post Facto laws - which means that you can't arrest somebody for an action that wasn't a crime, then make it a crime after said arrest, both the arrest and the grunt-level executive activism done of course at one's petty and incompetent whim, and then say "oh, you broke a law that wasn't a law yet when you did the thing that I just decided I will say you can't do now..."

You know what I did this time? I obeyed my "probation". What? Yeah - okay I'll back-track a tad for those in AC and elsewhere who may have been spared this drama over the last 232 days. On November 21, 2008, I was arrested for trespassing on a public community college campus, during operating hours, while sitting in my car getting ready to leave from what until that point had been regular visits to Massasoit's library to write and do some computing - yes, both constructive and leisurely.

If you're confused, I do not want to waste space in this update recounting what I have railed on about repeatedly already. The first such effort was a week after I was so egregiously violated, and I spelled out the details in doggedly tiresome (and perhaps WAY too wordy) detail in article: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1255405/extortion_ex_post_facto_entrapment.html?cat=17, and more succinctly and summarily in my piece: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1812642/innocent_man_told_he_is_still_unwelcome.html?cat=17.

There is still more narrative on this incident mostly, but in generally awed contempt for a flawed legal system in my writings which you can access thus:

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1813658/the_criminalization_of_noncriminal.html?cat=17, http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1822375/public_notice_to_officers_anne_holland.html?cat=17, http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1831105/to_the_massasoit_police_department.html?cat=5,

I offer still more exposition in article: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1415506/with_intimidation_and_extortion_for.html?cat=17

and opine a more general contempt for jurisprudential and law enforcement incompetence in article:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1419886/rule_by_intimidation_versus_the_rule_pg3.html?cat=17 ;

about which I rage, albeit more metaphorically and covertly in my poem: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1456582/no_justice_no_peace.html?cat=10

and the emotional impact this damned thing has, and a hate and frustration it only aggravates I seethe forth on in another poem: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1526785/impassioned_blackness.html?cat=10.

Nah. I'll spare you the unending and, some might say, therapy-worthy obsession I've had and long-time contempt for neuro-typicals I have had that this whole matter has only catalyzed, as I continue attempted poetic waxing at in: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1579039/mean_people_suck.html?cat=10

as well as in my perhaps rather prosaic battle cry of sorts: http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1782418/youre_a_liar_youre_a_cheat_youre_a.html?cat=10

Okay, yeah. You can call these the pissing and moaning of somebody who should just accept that the system "isn't perfect and never will be". You can call these the perseverative efforts of a guilty person. You can damned well deduce that they are indicative of a burgeoning neurosis or worse for all I care. There may be even merit to that last characterization.

Or you can see them for the bewildered but steadfast quest for something freakin' right in this world that they aim to achieve, because I just do not know what else a person is supposed to do to access the due process that is supposed to punish the guilty and protect the innocent.

I went to court yesterday because I dared to visit the campus police after my "probation" was finished, one of the terms of which was to stay off of the property. I won't argue the illegality and unconstitutionality of that here, as I have done so already. But, apparently, even though staying off of the property was specifically one of the terms of the probabtion (the other that I stay out of trouble - oh, boy, tough one), that the probation is over and the case dismissed does NOT mean, apparently, that I have any "right" to ever set foot on Massasoit property again! Even though, as one of their own officers admitted, I did nothing wrong.

So, on June 1st, I go to the campus police to ask them to give me the records they have on all of this crap, and the first thing I'm asked is "you're still trespassed, aren't you?". Nevermind that I still cannot understand that phrasology, as "you are trespassed" is not only an oxymoronic use of tense - it past-passive, but it's a mother-@#$%! intransitive!!!! How the hell does it make sense and how the hell is anyone supposed to understand what the @#$@#-damned hell that means?

Anyway, I was threatened with arrest if I didn't leave. I left.

A few days later I get a piece of mail which read, in part, as follows: "You are hereby notified that an application for a criminal complaint against you has been made in this court by the complainant named above..."

It is worthy of noting that the date of my "offense" was June 1st, and the "date of application" (when the charge was filed by Massasoit's uni(n)formed finest) was June 8th. Interesting. What caused the change of heart? Did Sergeant Anne Holland just "forget" to file the charge that day, just like Officer Christopher O'Sullivan "forgot" to tell me the charge against me when he arrested me, and just like he "forgot" to Mirandize me until well over an hour after he had me in his custody?

I sincerely doubt it. So what got under their skin then? I did. I found that out the very day I made the mistake of trying to take responsibility for knowing the details of my own freakin' case by so haughtily daring to ask for my own damned records. I found that out when one of the officers present even alluded to my writings on this site about this mess.

And yeah - when I left the campus that day, I came on here and I told ya all about it.

They didn't like that. So they filed another charge of trespassing. YOU are a God-damned coward, Anne Holland. You wouldn't even come to the courthouse to face me eye-to-eye. You sent your token "good cop" to read from a script to the clerk magistrate who took hardly any testimony from me (as I was too chickenshit to do anything but listen to the goings-on), and whose smirk at my suggesting my outrage by refering to these here writings, itself suggested a familiarity among not just the Massasoit Police, but the Brockton Trial Court staff as well of my on-line writing to this case!

They know the truth. But, don't you get it? The truth is not expedient. Justice is not expedient. And in our clogged and redundant and absurdly over-used criminal justice system, expediency IS the mandate!

Does justice come to those who wait for it to fall benevolently into their laps? I'm learning the hard and bitter lesson that that is a resounding "sorry, pal!".

Am I about done with this whole mess? Am I going to let it go and surrender to the will of a fate and corruption that, yes, could be and elsewhere most certainly is much more wrong and high-stakes? Should I or anyone else settle for anything less than the ideal and promised liberty, due process, and moral recompense of complete, contrite and irrevokable justice?

In other words, am I anywhere near the point of fatigue, resignation, and defeated surrender such that I just let myself become another victim? Am I the type of person who can just "let it go already!!"?

Never have been. Never will be. Not even close. So, to those aforementioned cowards and bullies who think they can push around a weaker and smaller member of their and our society, who has done nothing wrong and who only and always puts forth the tenacious and agonizing fight that it has been for him to survive every day, be prepared. I suggest you steel yourselves for one hell of a campaign. This is one fight that has barely even begun. You think I get this need-a-nap dog-dead tired because I half-ass my way through life?

Think ***AGAIN***.

I did not start this. But you can bet your very lives that I am going to finish it. Or you can apologize, beg my pardon, restore some token remuneration for the time, money and health you've stolen from me, and welcome me back into a community the membership to which I did nothing at all to forfeit.

You can get out of my way and leave me the hell alone once and for all, or I can knock you down. Your call.

siempre verdad, mi amor

the sounds of you sleepin'
are a perfect complement
to the love that we are keepin'
it's like magic, bottled,
a life for us, full throttle;
it is the best,
bar all the rest,
and when put to the test,
it is like nothing else on this planet;
you worry that I will out us,
but hey that is nothin' to discuss much,
we will be always,
just you and me,
for eternity,
yeah, baby Wifey, what was meant to be
we did not ask for this gift,
but we will take a little lift right now,
all that it will allow;
so you sleep, soundly,
and know that I am all around you
keepin' watch,
so no harm can come to you:
always true,
mi amor.



July 24, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/24/09

searcher

she is pretty damned well sure
of all of what she thinks she knows;
but she knows what's hidden,
and she also knows what shows;

she is confident that she hasn't a care,
well maybe one or two, but hey
she has more than one clue,
and waves off troubles with an airy aire;

she believes that if the wind blows,
and she closes the windows,
that the wind won't really be there;

I thought that she was the cat's PJs,
but learned that there were many other ways
to skin one, and that she was just one
of many, many entrees, but hey,
I learn something new everyday;

I always thought that her heart was so deep,
and maybe it is, even with secrets to keep;
but she turned so cold, so old, so schooled,
it took me by surprise, and I realized,
hey, you don't even know more than the cover,
so the rest of her book is something that is
still left undiscovered, still covered --
hidden --
maybe she is not the kind
who will stick in your mind,
maybe she is just not the one to be your lover;

and then I decided to change my mind,
I would leave criticism for another day,
maybe then I will be lucky enough to find,
something really, really, good to say,
about someone who could have been the kind
who I would keep for the rest of time;

but no, we were transmitting on different
frequencies, and that's what really made
a difference to me, so I am selling my radio,
and we will see how far it will go,
likely nowhere;

and I will gladly take the slim chances
that the real world advances,
and spend all of my limited time,
spend even my last dime,
with the Wifey, who, completely sublime,
is easily worth ten of her,
time after time after time.

Amen.


July 23 & 24, 2009. If you think this is about you, you're just like Warren Beatty. And yes, I do know Carly.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/23/09

The Soviet plot to turn the country Socialist and let Osama bin Laden sell yellow-cake uranium to unwed teen-age mothers while baby raping with Hitler






Conservative Objections to Healthcare Reform

In order to be objective I’ve scoured the blogosphere looking for objections to Healthcare Reform and here is what I’ve come up with. I present them here in their best possible light.

Obama isn’t an American citizen.
Apparently, in a trial run of their scheme to fake the Moon Landings, NASA and the Illuminati faked Obama’s birth. Birthers claim Obama was born on a soundstage made to look like the Moon. As evidence they point to how his birth certificate clearly moves like a breeze is catching it.

NASA and the Illuminati faked this evidence 47 years ago so that in 2009 he would push through legislation to make healthcare affordable, which leads to step four: World Domination. As the bullet points below clearly illustrate.

Step 1: Fake Barack Obama’s birth.

Step 2: Have him win US Presidency in 2008 with the pledge to reform healthcare.

Step 3: ?

Step 4: World Domination.

It’s all so obvious.

If there is a Government Option, 119 Million people will leave bad private insurance plans.


This will happen because Private Industry is completely defenseless against the Free Market. There is no way for Private Insurers to stop denying people coverage and not allowing them to keep their coverage when they switch jobs. Of course there is no way for Private Insurers to cut costs in their billing procedures.

The idea of making the Health insurance companies compete is totally anti-free market.

Doctor’s offices will be like going to the DMV, giving the Milkman time to score with your wife.


Everyone knows the horror of having their drivers license renewed, having to go up to the counter, give them your old license and having your picture taken, then paying them.

In that 3-minute time span the Milkman will teleport through time from 1950 and seduce your wife into an afternoon quickie.

The whole Healthcare thing is just a rouse by the Milkman’s Union to score with your wife.

The horror.

There are 47 million crazy liberals wandering around.


The people who don’t have healthcare are just bums living off the backs of hard working people. The self-employed aren’t being turned away from Healthcare, it’s all in their heads. Why these people probably have health insurance right now but are too delusional to know it.

Betsy McCaughey, a Republican former lieutenant governor of New York, claims that the bill creates a "new bureaucracy, the National Coordinator of Health Information Technology." That will tell doctors what treatments to give patients.

It will do this by mandating Congress to build a time machine and send thugs back in time to the year 2004 and they will force President Bush to create that office. It’s true that the office was created by Bush in 2004 to help the health IT system to transmit information by updating hospital’s computer systems, but with the Democratic Congress having access to a time machine who knows what other sinister purposes they might use it for.

It’s a Soviet plot to turn the country Socialist and let Osama bin Laden sell yellow-cake uranium to unwed teen-age mothers while baby raping with Hitler and eating puppies.


It’s a threat so huge that we must all go to tea-bagging rallies and burn books.

7/22/09

really, really, really

was feelin' a little like
Glenn Frey earlier tonight:
"four that wanna own me
two that wanna stone me,
and one that says she's
a friend of mine;"

and I sit here and I contemplate
all of them,
and I am stymied in my
concentration:
which measure,
of which elation,
should I choose?

and I confess,
that this largess,
is way more than I expected,
hell, its way more
than what I rejected;

what I think I need,
like I know what I have
perceived,
well I need someone
who will keep me
on track;

so it is just you,
you simple horn of blue,
maybe I should just
stay here with you;

but I can't ignore
all that has gone before,
and I have to tell the rest
that she is simply the best;

and so I float free,
willing myself to be me
and to be that with Her,
because when somebody
loves you,
really, really, really
loves you,
that's all they need to do,
and so do you.



July 20, 21 & 22, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

Ben Franklin and the single payer healthcare plan


In the Healthcare “Debate” conservatives like to use an appeal to authority saying that the founding fathers would want us to have a system where only those working for large corporations can receive healthcare.

Being a Progressive I decided to look at the history of one of our founding fathers. (I realize a Progressive’s view on history, that history is a bunch of stuff that actually happened and was recorded at the time, and a Conservative’s view on history, that history is stuff they pull out of their ass to justify whatever nonsense they are spouting off at the time, are different but I’ll go with the actual truth just for the hell of it.)

As far as Ben Franklin’s views on medicine I’d have to say that as founder of the Pennsylvania Hospital that was established by the Pennsylvania Legislature to care for the sick-poor and insane who wander the streets of Philadelphia. He might be a little inclined to disagree that only people who work for large corporations are entitled to healthcare.

The quote he helped pick for the official seal “Take Care of Him and I will repay Thee” might give a clue as to his feeling on social responsibility.

But what can you expect from the founder of such socialist concepts as “The Post Office” and founded “Penn State” a state run university.

Looking at the history of the founding fathers it’s very hard to see how any of them would be for a system where a person’s healthcare makes them a slave to large corporations and denies healthcare to the self-employed and workers of small companies.

It’s even harder to see where any of them would favor a system that forces even those who have health insurance, to have everything they have worked for all their lives taken away with one bad illness.

7/21/09

Socialism: That dreaded word.


In the Healthcare debate the Republicans like to throw around the word socialism. (ok it’s not just in the Healthcare debate they like to throw that word around they use it for everything “Allowing Gays in the Military is Socialism”, “Not giving members of congress pay raises is socialism”, “Allowing companies to bid on government contracts is Socialism”. They use that word in debates like I use the phrase “Donkey Raping Shit Eater” when talking to a collection agency.) In this case they actually do have a point, it’s a silly point but a point, nonetheless.

Socialism - a theory or system of social organization that advocates the vesting of the ownership and control of the means of production and distribution, of capital, land, etc., in the community as a whole.

By definition all Government Actions are Socialist policies. The military, roads, library, post office, and police are socialist entities. If you take the “ownership” part out of the definition and just look at the “control” part of Socialism, the current healthcare system is Socialist.

In the 1800’s we as a nation decided that food and healthcare couldn’t be a “buyer beware” type of sale. In our food supply it was decided that the government could make sure what was being sold was pure before customers attacked the milk companies for watering down their milk after they found a trout in the bottle.

The Government also monitors the quality of our healthcare, so trained professionals practice medicine and not the infamous “Snake-Oil Salesman”. The only place where the policy of Caveat emptor “Buyer Beware” is still allowed in healthcare is in the insurance part of it.

The public option doesn’t make the Healthcare part of the Healthcare industry any more or less socialist than it was before, it just offers doctors an option on how they get paid. With government option doctors will be paid less, but they know they will be paid. With the insurance companies doctors cross their fingers when they submit a bill and hope an insurance company bureaucrat doesn’t deny most of the work they’ve done.

Most doctors now prefer to work with Medicaid patients because it is less stressful to get 90% of the “going rate” than roll the dice and see what the insurance company will pay.

7/19/09

the stillness of stones

it does not matter
what song you sing,
or how many dogs
relieve themselves here;
neither today's bright sun,
Friday night's sheets of rain,
nor Winter's sub-zero snaps,
make much of an impression;
the smash of shellfish
dropped by the gulls
is merely a momentary
inconvenience,
just like the smear of beer
sloshed drunkenly during
Saturday night's misadventure;
the sweaty haunches
of the resting runners
are a small sprinkle
in a fountain of time,
too deep to see the bottom.



July 19, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

Celebrating 40 Years of Moon Landing Conspiracies

Monday July 20,2009 will mark the 40th anniversary of Moon Landing Conspiracy Theories. There are dozens of these floating around the internet, but most of them have serious flaws. But there is one Conspiracy Theory no one has challenged, I have seen this Theory on message boards that I post on, and on quick notes I type out to myself, so I will report on that one. One of the big elements that people who believe we went to the moon, point at is the effects of one-sixth gravity on everything that was filmed, from the lunar shuffle the astronauts had to do to move around to the way dust fell when it was kicked up. People have tried to recreate this effect on Earth and the only way to recreate it is to fly in a specially modified plane and that does large parabolic arcs simulating whatever gravity the pilot wants for about 25 seconds for every 65 seconds of flight.
NASA knew that people would get suspicious if the astronauts weren’t shown walking about in one-sixth gee so they built a huge soundstage roughly 4 miles wide to simulate the curvature of the Moon and built 3 huge jets with a roughly 20 mile wing span to simulate the Moon’s gravity. They had identical sets on all three jets and had them take turns in the 25 seconds of one-sixth gee. The camera feed switched to whichever jet was simulating the Moon’s gravity at the time. Now in order to fly these jets NASA needed huge engines shown here:
To keep the Russians from finding out about these planes, NASA needed to make them stealth and applied an early version of the stealth “paint” that military aircraft use today adding several 1000’s of tons to them. With that much weight they wouldn’t be able to fly using normal jets so NASA needed to use He3 fusion rockets. The nearest source of He3 is the Moon. So NASA secretly sent rockets to the Moon and built a Lunar Base with a few hundred people to mine He3 and bring it back to Earth to power the planes to fake the Moon Landing. After Nixon canceled the Fake Lunar Landings in the 70’s there was no need for NASA’s lunar base to mine He3 and it was dismantled. But some evidence remains as seen here:
There were a few problems with this plan, like why didn’t the fake astronauts experience long-term radiation sickness that one would expect after being exposed to the cosmic rays of space? NASA countered this problem by slowly exposing 24 out of the 33 astronauts that were supposed have gone to the Moon to powerful radiation giving them cataracts. The astronauts who faked the space expeditions have become recluses afterward, taking low-profile jobs like: Senator, Authors, TV show hosts, and media consultants. People rarely see them doing tours where they might be questioned about their experiences and accidentally give away something about the conspiracy. NASA also knew that the few scientists who weren’t in on the conspiracy would want to examine Moon Rocks. So they took roughly 1,000 kilograms of lunar rocks from their Lunar Base and thoroughly analyzed them. Knowing what lunar rocks were made of, they scoured Antarctica for lunar rocks and found 382 kilograms of lunar rocks (most of the lunar rocks that had landed on Earth). That’s why only 30 kilograms of lunar rocks have been collected in Antarctica in the forty years since, NASA took them all. Elvis Presley found out about this conspiracy and NASA gave him the option of faking his own death or being killed. He naturally faked his own death on the toilet, as there is nothing undignified in that.
How many people were involved in this conspiracy? Conservative Estimates point to at least 400,000 people being directly in on this conspiracy. The engineers who helped build the Saturn V and Lunar Lander, the international partners who helped monitor the radio transmissions, of course anyone who worked for NASA, the entire 10th mountain division who spent months combing the Antarctic for moon rocks in secret, the people that worked at NASA’s secret Lunar Base to mine the He3 for the secret jets. Indirectly, all those people’s families and their families. So altogether several million people. Showing what type of agency NASA is to make such a vast conspiracy. Never underestimate the power of NASA they anticipate everything that could possibly go wrong in a plan. BTW: NASA finally had good weather and were able to launch their $1.7 billion Space Shuttle Endeavour, it is unable to launch if it sprinkles cause engineers overlooked that fact that if water gets into the thrusters, it will freeze when it gets into space making the orbiter useless.

one hundred dollars

she asked me
to tell her what I was wearing,
and I said
a kelly green Stand for Children t-shirt
from the march in DC, 1996,
and khaki shorts,
and my hiking boots;
and she let out
a little laugh, and said
"oh we are going to have to
work on that,"
and I said "work on what?"
and she giggled, and said
"your look, baby, your fashions"
and I laughed nervously,
since I made
one hundred dollars
in the entire month of June,
"my look" is way,
way, way, way, way,
way, way, way, way
down
on the end of my list.



July 19, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/17/09

Rhubarb with Elsa

Life is often filled with events, situations, circumstances that you never expect; that catch you unawares, off-kilter. Chemistry being what it is, it seems like we might be a bit more prepared for serendipity, but as for myself, not so much. It is not really anything I am equipped to improve on: I am often socially clueless, and have been my whole life, best as I can recall. I rarely know that signals are being sent, much less what the hell they are intended to convey.

If being a writer requires, as one writer friend says regularly, that one be a consummate liar to engage in the craft, then being a reporter additionally mandates that one not only be a writer, but something of a social whore, especially if it is beat reporting that you are doing, which is what I am doing these days. As my editor famously put it: "No one is required to talk to you just because you are a reporter. You have to gain their respect, their trust, and then they will talk to you, and give you the information you need to report stories."

Well, I am a pretty sociable fellow, a trait inherited from my late daddy, who could strike up an interesting conversation with a parking meter. He loved to talk, make conversation, tell jokes and stories, and just generally was a hoot-and-a-half to be around.

And so that whole chattiness comes pretty naturally to me, and I use it to good advantage in my work. I tell folks that I get to know really well that with a little time, I can get them to tell me almost anything, and with a little time and a little liquor, I can get them to tell me the rest.

So the other day, I was out looking around for rhubarb plants that might have been spawned by my grampa's plants many years ago, in the old road that runs along the back of his property. I was out there because my neighbor from across the street, Elsa, who lives next door to grampa's, told me the other day that she had seen some rhubarb plants out there. And I figured since it is still a town road, and public property, near the edge of the forest, that it would be no harm to go dig them up and transplant them to my garden.

So I am out there, walking slow, looking down, searching for the rhubarb plants, and I pass the whole 300-foot length of grampa's property, and am dead even with Elsa's backyard, when I see her, out there on poop patrol after her two dogs, plastic bag in hand, discovering treasures. Before I can speak, she looks up, lets out a soft yelp, and says "Oh you startled me!"

And I begin to apologize profusely, and she stops me.

"No, it's nothing you did; I am just a little jumpy lately. So you are out looking for the rhubarb plants I told you about?"

"Yeah, I am. Seriously, Elsa, I am sorry for scaring you. I was just about to say something when you let out that little yelp."

"No worries. Look, let me unhook this fencing, and let you in. I can show you were the plants are better from in here in my yard."

In addition to pointing out that the previous line from Elsa was a signal which I, of course, missed, I should point out at this stage of the story that Elsa is a stunning six-foot blonde, in her late thirties, with a smile that can light the darkest place, and a big laugh to boot. While tall, she has petite hands and feet, which on this July day were clad in flip-flops, showing her beautifully painted toenails, her assortment of toe rings, and an ankle bracelet. Not tan, but not lily white, she was wearing cute little khaki shorts, and a blue golf shirt that picked up the blue of her eyes perfectly. A very put-together woman.

As she fumbled with the fence wire, I found myself noticing that very ample rack that she has, and felt myself reflexively responding to the stimulation. I averted my gaze so as not to produce too much of a tent, but I thought to myself, wow, she would be such a great catch. But the best neighbors are not lovers, and I cast my thoughts elsewhere. Finally, the fence wire gave way to her efforts, and I was entering her backyard. Her dogs gave me the obligatory once-over, and then left to annoy the birds brave enough to invade the dogs' turf.

"Hey, so come look, they are right over here," Elsa bubbled, leading me about twenty feet down her property line, and pointing through the fence. Sure enough, there they were, one a really big, old plant, and the other a very young one.

"Wow, they both look great. Okay, I am definitely going to dig them up and take them," I said.

"Well, you don't appear to have a shovel with you," Elsa cooed, "so I can lend you one of mine. Come over here to the shed." She was smiling, and I was clueless.

I followed her the twenty or so feet over to her garden shed. As she entered the small doorway, I noticed that she leaves a good impression behind. It was a smallish shed, only room for a lawn mower and a few garden tools. She fumbled around at the back wall, and turned with a small spade in her hand.

"You know, Sam," she whispered, "I have been meaning to tell you something for quite a while now, since shortly after you got here last August."

"Oh, what's that, Elsa?" I managed.

"I find you enormously attractive," Elsa murmured, "and I think we ought to get to know each other better," as the shovel fell to the floor of the shed.

The rhubarb plants would wait another day.

July 17, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

True again

like the day lilies,
my sweetest of sweet,
take a break, baby,
and know that come
Hell or high water,
I will always be
here for you,
since down all these years,
through all these tears,
there is,
have been,
and are
none that compare
to you, or that love,
that showers me
every day;
she is the past,
and we are
tomorrow,
what will last;
and by the way,
I love you,
True.



July 15, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/15/09

no candle

in the darkness
of a warm July night,
I know just where to
go;
I know where you are,
falling asleep,
mi ciela:
I feel your breath,
soft and slow,
and I know;
I know that now,
this moment,
este momento,
this is the one,
where I once again
prove that my love to you
is undying, unyielding,
stronger than gravity itself;
I reach for your fullness,
and I spoon you,
tenderly, even though
my passion finds its
promise, its hard truth:
and I realize all at once
that no woman before
and none now,
nor any hence,
could hold a candle
to you.



July 14, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

Two American Space Launches in a Week


The Space Shuttle Endeavor finally launched today, and as I noted before SpaceX’s Falcon I had a successful launch yesterday.

Things are looking up (pun intended) for the American presence in space.

Hopefully we will see more successful launches from SpaceX, the last few Shuttles take off more or less on time and Virgin Galactic’s SpaceShip Two flies at the end of the year.

If every thing goes extremely well 2010 could be the beginning of a new and more robust Space Era with three very different types of spacecraft taking off at the same time.

Excuse Me I’m so excited I have to change my pants now.

Shut up and put your mouth to a better use.

Talking is something she shouldn’t use her mouth for
Beauty and Brains don’t have to be incompatible, and I do appreciate when a female uses her natural beauty to attain celebrity status and then carefully researches an issue and uses her status to raise awareness on an issue. Look at Angelina Jolie: Ok, that was a pleasant 5 minutes, and a great excuse to stare at Angelina. Oh, and her work on raising awareness on refugees is admirable. But then there are woman that use their celebrity status and looks to espouse the silliest ideas that if it weren’t for the fact that most of the people talking to them are too busy staring at their breasts they would be laughed off the stage. The number one chick who should shut up and put her mouth to a better use is Jenny McCarthy:
In the early stages of her career she was determined to give all males who were between the ages of 12 and 123 stronger forearm muscles. A noble goal in itself, I know she strengthened my left forearm considerably. She moved on to show the world her range of funny faces:
Then she took on a cause, Autism. That seems like a laudable cause and would be if she took the time to research what the hell she was talking about, but instead she plunged head-first into it giving out advise that is actually more dangerous for kids than the chances of getting Autism. For those of you that don’t know Autism is a mental condition makes the person’s brain tune to a completely different reality, in mild forms it can make a person totally unable to recognize social patterns, in severe forms it will leave the person unable to speak. The causes of Autism is unknown but extensive research has shown that there is no link between Autism and Vaccines, Center for Disease Control But that doesn’t stop Jenny from going on all the media outlets and saying that vaccines cause Autism. The worst part is people who listen to Jenny’s advice might end up aggravating a mild case of Autism into a full-blown case. PERTUSSIS (WHOOPING COUGH) is a nasty disease that leaves the victim coughing out all the air in their lungs; it can go on for weeks. The victim can turn blue from lack of oxygen and pass out. Vaccines have nearly wiped out this disease so emergency room doctors rarely see it and aren’t trained to deal with it. If a parent follows Jenny’s advice and doesn’t have their child vaccinated they can get this disease and the lack of oxygen can cause brain damage, aggravating a mild form of Autism into a crippling one. And chances are the Emergency Room techs won’t have a clue as to what it is since vaccines have made it a very rare disease. So Jenny please shut the fuck up! If you need something else to do with your mouth I can think of something, I’ll even dress up like Santa.
The next group of chicks that should do something better with their mouths, are the actresses that support PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), not People Eating Tasty Animals.
PETA sounds like a good cause, end killing animals for their fur and treat them as humanely. But the PETA people have taken it way to far, like this quote:
"Pet ownership is an abysmal situation brought about by human manipulation." -Ingrid Newkirk, President, PETA, Washingtonian, August 1986 No it’s not. Cats have evolved with humans, as we starting gathering food and storing it in a permanent place, rats took advantage of that. Then Cats took advantage of having the Rats in a convenient place. As we evolved together cats and humans developed a symbiotic relationship and cats even developed a language that humans react to. That’s why a purring cat puts people at ease. The cat has evolved to experience a greater emotional bond with humans than with other cats, it’s stray cats that get emotionally deprived. It’s a similar situation with dogs. They also want to end ALL laboratory use of animals. I agree with the Humane Society that their should be standards to keep pain and suffering of lab animals down to a minimum and oversight to see if a test needs to be done on an lab animal, but in the end animal testing is necessary to help both humans and animals. So for the PETA celebrities that go nude rather than wear fur, while you’re nude I’ll put something in your mouth to keep you from repeating the propaganda from these misguided fucks.
BTW: If you are legitimately concerned about animal welfare the ASPCA and Humane Society are good organizations with rational thinking. Finally Gwyneth Paltrow, claims that Shampoo Causes Cancer.
At least not using shampoo will only hurt someone’s social life and not their actual life, but it’s a dumb comment and her mouth could be put to better uses.

7/14/09

melanoma

the sun used to
cook us dry,
way back, by and by,
and now we just sit
withered, worn, wan,
but man-oh-man,
we still got that
killer tan,
it's like a home a-
way from home,
this melanome,
this melanoma,
that we worked so
very hard to make
our own,
this cancer that
cuts to the bone.



July 13, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

Stuff I missed, I've been busy. Sorry

It’s been a few days since I posted as I have been dealing with Bank of America trying to get my house out of foreclosure.

I’ve racked up a total of 6 hours on the phone with them trying to get them to answer 3 very simple questions.
1) Why didn’t they fulfill their obligations under the Mortgage Agreement?
2) Why are they lying to me?
3) Why are they breaking the law?

For some reason they don’t seem to want to answer these questions. They just keep passing me off to someone else. Their lawyer is supposed to call me maybe she can answer my questions.

But enough about those evil scum-sucking bastards.

Great News:

Space Exploration Technologies (SpaceX)'s Falcon I successfully launched a satellite into orbit. http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20090714/sc_nm/us_space_business;_ylt=Aj0DwK8Vtrb3h5xDsTDzr0QPLBIF;_ylu=X3oDMTJra203ZXJkBGFzc2V0Ay9ubS8yMDA5MDcxNC9



Even though the Falcon I isn’t technologically superior to the Atlas V it does offer a competing way to get objects into space. At $8 million per ½ ton flight it is the cheapest way to get into space.

Also SpaceX can start making these expendable rocket launches on a semi-routine basis freeing up resources for their work on the Falcon 9 and Falcon 9 heavy. These are the rockets that SpaceX hopes to use to take over the servicing of the ISS after the Shuttle is discontinued.

If the Falcon 9 is successful it will free up NASA to work on the Orion/Constellation Project and return humans to Moon.

Hopefully NASA can contract out all their Low Earth Orbit duties to private companies like SpaceX and turn their energies back to what they are good at pushing the envelope of space technology and expand the human frontier.

Bad News:

The International Space Station the massive spacecraft that is as big as a football field, cost $100 billion to build and is a key component to many private space companies long term plans, is scheduled to be scrapped in 2016.

It took over a decade to build the thing and now it’s going to be junked in less than half that time. That doesn’t make much sense to me.

Good News:

Obama proposes $12 Billion in Community College Funding.

Finally a good proposal to get some long-term benefit out of the Great Depression 2.0.

With unemployment nearing 10% it is damn near impossible for someone fresh out of high school to get a job. Let’s face it if you were the manager of a restaurant and you had two applicants for a waiter. One fresh out of high school with no work experience and one former Securities Broker who ran a multi-million company who would you hire?

By sending as many high school graduates through community college as possible right now it will ease the demand for entry level jobs giving the vastly over qualified workers a way to survive until the economy picks back up.

In 2 years when these students come out of college with their Associates Degrees, America will have better skilled workforce that can seriously compete with other nations.

It’s a solution that gives both short term relief and long term benefit.

Bad News:

This proposal doesn’t do anything to fix the Educational/Banking Complex that has turned into a vampire sucking the benefits of higher education out of the average American worker.

Nothing is being done about the fact that the Higher Education System rewards banks that default graduates on their student loans, even if the graduate is paying back the loan as promised.

Good News:

Healthcare reform with a public option, which 72% of Americans want, is moving forward.

Bad News:

7 Democrats, Max Baucus, Ben Nelson, Kent Conrad, Mary Landrieu, Dianne Feinstein, Jeff Bingaman, and Blanche Lincoln, are gladly taking some of the $1.4 million a day that Insurance companies are using to fight the public option.



The stupidest argument against the public option (you are welcome to disagree as there are a lot of stupid arguments against it) is that if people making more than $500,000 a year are taxed 1% to cover the cost they will take their ball and leave the country.

Oh no, What will America do without the people who gave us invaluable products like Default Credit Swaps, and Sub-prime Mortgage Backed Securities?

Good News:

Sarah Palin resigned as Governor so she can help candidates that share her lunatic vision for America. Now we have a quick way to Identify the wackos.

Bad News:

sarah palin
see more Political Pictures

The poster pretty much says it all.

7/13/09

God knows

once upon a time,
I gave my life over
to God;
after a while,
I decided that
He was not doing
such a great job,
so I took over;
I did not do such a
great job either,
so I gave it over to
Her;
She did a pretty good
job, but She got tired
of it, and started to
screw
it up, so I fired Her,
and took over again;
then I decided to
give God another
crack at it,
since He promised me
that He would pay
better attention,
show up on time,
and all the rest of that
employee shit;
He did okay for a while,
but then fell back into
His old ways,
never calling ahead,
not watching carefully,
and I had to can His ass,
once again,
and take over;
unfortunately, I had not
learned one stinkin' thing,
and I screwed
up nearly as badly as
She had,
so that's when I again
fell for God's pleas,
and gave Him the reins,
yet again;
He seemed to be doing
pretty well, and then
She2 came along,
and all of life seemed
to be one neverending song;
and so I gave the reins
to Her2;
and then my daddy up and
died on me,
and I lost my job,
and then She2 got tired
just like She had,
and She2 started to
screw
everything up,
everything in sight,
and that wasn't bad
enough, She2 decided
to leave me for dead,
which I nearly was,
and so I fired everyone
that I could find,
and left with the clothes
on my back, and a little bit
of my mind;
meanwhile, She3 came along,
and boy oh boy could She3
sing a song, right along;
so I put her in charge,
and She3 did pretty well,
for quite a spell,
but then She3 decided to
go south as well;
so I was tired of God,
and Shes,
and I came up here,
on my hands and knees;
and the original of them all,
well she took me in,
having seen my great big fall;
and so then came along
She4:
the one that I know that I was
destined for;
and that's where we are now,
and where I expect to be,
until that pesky God comes
a beggin' to me;
even then, I suppose,
I will tell Him to take a walk,
since He has proven Himself
unreliable before,
I will likely show Him the door,
but hey,
God knows.



July 13, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

never a regret

back over there,
under the cedars,
way back where
there's plenty of shade,
you told me
your secrets,
you showed me
your scars,
whispers, sobs;
love, let drip,
with promises made;
back over there,
where the coolness
is kept,
that's where you
and I silently wept;
since we knew
all at once,
where our future
slept;
too little to remember,
but too much to forget,
as long as there's an ember,
there's never a regret.



July 13, 2009, for most of them.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

parlay

I brought you
into my world
this past weekend
because
you are a part
of my heart,
the better part
of my thoughts,
and it was
well past time
to do so.
You enthrall me,
as we parlay
an unexpected love
into the next
trillion years or so.
I suppose that
you were already
in here,
and we only now
noticed.



July 12, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/11/09

you, me, eternity

you start,
I can't stop;
you speak,
and I have
to listen;
you go,
and I follow;
breathe in,
and I breathe
out;
without you,
there is no
within;
I listen,
you tell me;
we walk along,
into eternity.



July 9, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/10/09

just you

I love you in immeasurable ways,
so much so, that my thoughts often stray:
they go down a dark alley or two,
but eventually they find
a meadow, and that is you:
I wander amid the wildflowers,
and I ask,
what more could I have,
but you,
but you,
sweet Wifey, it's true,
so much of me
depends on you,
and the honor
that your love brings:
it's all my heart ever sings,
just you,
just you.



July 8, 2009, for the Wifey.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

figuring out

looking at life's
twisted tangles and turns,
all that I have witnessed,
and a few things I've learned:
sometimes it all is just a
muddled mess:
tired, crouched,
waiting for just a little success;
hard to understand it all,
to put a capstone on it,
tie it up neatly with a bow, or
roll it along into a ball;
it might have been easier,
with being kicked and sent
headfirst down so many sets
of stairs,
torn, bleeding,
worn, and needing
major repair;
to then at the end of the ride,
find you there,
smiling, comforting,
by my side,
as we make our entrance,
and the crowd finally
rises to its feet,
one last time,
and I leave the figuring out
for another life,
one with the luxuries
of you,
and plenty of time.



July 8, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/7/09

A new writing Challenge.

I thought I was able to make very concise stories, I’ve written a few flash fiction stories and even got paid for one.

But recently Phil Plait over at Bad Astronomy turned me on to an extreme writing challenge.

Ficly is a writers site with a twist, all stories (and comments) must be 1049 characters or less. Maybe my buddy Ricky A Pursley wouldn’t find that a challenge, but for the rest of us it is.

For Example, I’ve had the idea for a middle of a story floating around in my head for a while. I never wrote it up because it needed a beginning and an end. I thought this would be a perfect place to put it, as even without a beginning and an end it is a complete thought. So I wrote it up, looked through it trimmed it down to only the barest parts and this is what I got.

A New Dimension in Home Office Design


“This is what you’ve been working on?” His wife asked.

“I told you I was redecorating my Home Office.”

“But I thought you were just going to throw up some Oak Paneling, not this…” She gestured at his creation.

“It’s a tesseract, A 3 Dimensional representation of a 4 Dimensional Hypercube.”

“There’s barely enough room for you to sit.”

“The perfect amount of room, and all the 3 Dimensional cubes that make up the outside of the hypercube slide in so everything is at arms length.”

“Why aren’t the lights on?”

“I had to give this room it’s own breaker box.” He told her. “A hi-tech office like this needs hi-tech, I have computers in outside cubes running windows, Linux, Unix, Mac, and a few OS things I’ve never heard of.”

“How many?”

“63 in all. And it’s own A/C unit of course. Hit that switch I’ll show you what it can do.”

“I’m not impressed?” She said after turning on the power and nothing happened.

“Something’s wrong.” He said.

“Honey where did the house go?” She was staring at a black void outside the door where the rest of the house had been.

“I must have wired something wrong and somehow turned this room into a real hypercube and we’ve been pushed into the fourth dimension.”

“I told you to go with the Oak Paneling, but you never listen to me, now look what you’ve done.”


Then I looked at the number of characters and found out I had to cut nearly a third out.

How did it turn out? You tell me. Here it is.

As if trying to write a story in 1049 characters wasn’t enough of a challenge, they have challenges, they throw out an idea and ask people to write a story around it.

If you are really a glutton for punishment, and I know I am, you can write prequels and sequels to other peoples work. It’s tough getting someone else’s tone right without imitating all under 1049 characters.

So if you are up for the challenge leave me a note and I’ll check out your work.

BTW: I have not received compensation from Ficly or any other website that I have reviewed on Project Savior.

7/6/09

echoing

saw you from across the expanse
of the cavernous baggage claim area
at the airport today,
and my heart fluttered
for a moment --
partly because
it had been over six months
since I had seen you,
but also partly because
I was thunderstruck
by how much you look like
your Mom, whom I met
and fell in love with
over 27 years ago --
she has the copyright
on your outside,
but I have it on
your inside:
your common sense,
your wit,
your wisdom,
your love of children,
and teaching,
and learning;
all of which gifts
were given to me;
and I am happy
to have passed them on to you,
and so glad to see
that beautiful face,
echoing.



July 6, 2009, for Carinda.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

I’d hate to meet the Author that wrote this


Have you ever read a creepy horror story that made you wonder what kind of person has such sick and twisted thoughts going through their heads.

That recently happened to me when Alienskins Magazine accepted my flash fiction story “A Home to Die For”. It had been awhile since I wrote it and after it was accepted I had to reread it, it’s a little creepy, basically think what Master Carpenter Norm Abrams would be like if he were also a deranged serial killer.

It’s very strange rereading your own work and getting worried about the mental state of the author, when you know the author was yourself.

I guess we all have our Dark Sides and by tapping into mine I was able to write an enjoyable little story, much better than tapping into my Dark Side and going on a tri-state murder spree.

You can read it for yourself when it comes out in the August/September 2009 Anniversary Issue of AlienSkin Magazine.

the Prologue to "The Dude: Stories About One Hell of a Man"

(The Dude is a series of stories that I first thought of back in my old thisisby.us days. To date, I have only managed to write one of the stories, called, unsurprisingly, The Dude, along with a poem called The Return of The Dude. Tonight, for some reason, The Dude was calling to me. It may have something to do with turning 55 next Saturday, but it could just be the full moon. Who knows? Anyway, I hope to soon, among my 43 quintillion other projects, get back to writing more stories about The Dude. I like to think that he is a lot like me. Well, hell, I created him, so I get to decide, right? I mean, about him. Ha ha ha.)



they needed someone to stand in the breach,
and though he had always dreamt that he would teach,
he stood up when everyone else
sat down, he
took that step forward,
never stumbling, never awkward,
as he lived by
The Code:
God, Family, Country.
and wherever he walked,
wherever he rode,
he was as constant, and as
certain as the sunrise,
or so I was told;
I never asked for his given name,
as everyone simply called him
The Dude,
and to expect more than that,
well, it seemed a little rude;
people say they never knew
where he was really from,
but they were pretty sure that
they knew where he was goin';
he was goin' to Set Things Straight,
wherever that might be,
and all the times I witnessed him
well, that destination seemed accurate to me;
so the stories that follow,
well they are all pretty much true,
even those about tomorrow,
since today will be yesterday
in an hour or two,
and they are true enough now;
trust me.

July 5, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/5/09

launching the rocket

it took Dennis over twenty minutes
of relentless pumping,
this sunny summer morning
at the harborside park,
as his three boys
reverently formed a semi-circle,
and his wife Abigail
stood further back,
prepared to witness
either victory or disaster
(she has a lot of insurance
on her risk-taker);
finally, it takes its first
short flight,
about fifteen feet into the air,
landing with a Plop,
on its side;
"did you get it?" Dennis yells
to Abigail,
who left the camera
in the car with the insurance papers.



July 5, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

dream #1

I am certainly not the
King of Siam,
I am merely a solitary man,
but she loves me

I can only do what I can
I am not Superman
but I love you

faces and places
cruise by in a dream,
but all of you, sitting there,
by a still stream,
amaze me

people and places
I've never known
replace me

I love you.



July 5, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

regrets #3

you thought I was the problem,
while I was sure that you were the cure;
and after all of the yellin',
neither one of us looked so pure:

these days I have to remember
to forget;
those ways that left me filled
with such regret;

I thought you were dead wrong,
while you were convinced you were right;
and after all of the cryin',
there wasn't very much light:

those days I have to remember
to forget;
these ways that left me filled
with regret.



July 4, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

7/4/09

A Few Minutes with Betty, Chapter 14: "Today's Guest Host, Betty's Sister, Tammy!" (or, "Stealing Old Peoples' Teeth")

"Hey, Shakespeare. What's shakin'? It's Tammy. Betty's feeling under the weather, so I am watching the kids for her while she rests."

"Hey, Tammy, long time no pester. How are you? I saw your status, and I misread it; I thought it said 'workin' it,' so I was just volunteering for the cause. Then I realized that it actually just says 'working', so I guess the whole sexual thing was wasted. You know me, always trying to be helpful to young women in need. 'Mr. Helpful,' they call me. Well, that's not exactly the term they use, but still."

"I would have preferred that as opposed to the ball-busting day that I had, AND I DON'T HAVE BALLS! And you are just as troubled an individual as ever, by the way. My sister told me you have gotten worse, and it appears that she is correct once again."

"Well that was certainly the visual I've always believed in, Tammy. Talk about getting in the way."

"Yeah no kidding."

"Well, no, further up, as I recall, but still."

"You really are incorrigible. Does any woman find this an attractive quality, or are you still irretrievably single? Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. We'll start over: how are you?"

"I am moderately well, although it is raining here again. Mostly, right now I am hoping that one of us is going to be incredibly humorous."

"It stopped raining here. And the way I understand it from Betty, being humorous with you is not exactly a paying gig. So you may be out of luck. I do take MasterCard, though."

"Well, I have just been writing and reading and writing. So far, we are a laugh riot. My sides are hurting from laughing so much."

"Yeah, so here, everyone decided to sit in a restaurant. And they picked the one where I am the cook."

"Well, we had three nice days this past week, and I worked in the vegetable garden and generally outside a lot, and it was great, but now, its drizzle, frizzle, and whizzle."

"Eew. That sounds disgusting."

"Well, I had a lot to write and post anyway: four new poems, six new recipes, a new short story, and I have to work on my next chapter in the book before those young hotshots get ahead of me."

"Damn, Shakespeare, slow down."

"Women tell me that all the time. Well, you know, it just flows, the writing, I mean. I wrote the four poems this morning while I was at the ocean."

"Oh, ocean is nice. And women tell you no such thing. They probably tell you to go away before they call the police."

"And the recipes, I've been noodling with them this afternoon. It was really much colder at the water's edge this morning; it always is. But still okay for the hour that I was there. But it has dropped ten degrees in the last two hours here. It's down to 52 degrees."

"Eew."

"I know. I was just wearing a shirt earlier this week outside. Well, pants too, but still. Now don't be starting up the car or anything. I can hear you now, yelling to Betty: 'Yeah, and he's practically naked in the backyard!'"

"That is so, so, um, what is the word for 'more than unlikely'?"

"I can hear you telling her: 'No, I am not stopping for coffee. Get in, or stay here, I gotta go!'"

"You are beyond delusional, Mr. Humorist."

"So I heard you might be moving to Florida. Is that true?"

"Yes, I am, in a little over a month."

"Or as I like to call it, 'New California'. Governator Arnold has been shipping all of California's weirdness to Florida, so it's the new Wild Wild East."

"That means that I'll fit in nicely, then."

"Where in the Sunshine State, exactly?"

"Cape Coral."

"That's the Atlantic side, isn't it? About midway down?"

"No, it's on the Gulf side. Near Naples."

"So, as soon as the kids are out of school?"

"Yeah, pretty much."
"Well I guess than means that I will have to start calling you RWT, instead of just WT."

"Yes, I am looking forward to being Really Warm Tammy instead of just Warm Tammy. Although every time you call me that, it creeps me out for some reason. Maybe because it is you saying it."

"As long as I don't have to name a new breed of mosquito after you, you will be fine. They are the size of hummingbirds down there, with beaks just as long. Some of them carry switchblades. The Cuban ones carry .22 semi-automatics."

"I know. Everyone wants my blood though."

"Actually, that's probably the one thing that I haven't wanted from you at one point or another. But what's one more bodily fluid among pals?"

"You really do stick to one theme, don't you, Shakespeare? The Impossible Dream, if I remember the musical correctly."

"So you are well and excited about going, and leaving the tundra behind?"

"Sort of, yeah."

"Well, you will have warmth, a better tan, and if you get a cook job, you will have better working conditions, since older people eat slower, so there's less orders coming in."

"You'd think. But I cook for old people now, and they are a pain."

"Well just steal their teeth. Then they can't eat as fast, nor can they complain well. 'Mnbnnnfogger, sjey tuuik mew teep!'"

"I'll give that some thought, Shakespeare. Listen, I have to go. Betty's up from her nap, and I have to tell her to get some new online friends."

"Okay, Tammy. Tell her I said hello, and I hope she feels better soon."

"Just missing this chat with you will probably do her worlds of good, Mr. Humorist. Goodbye."



May 3, 2009.

Copyright 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.