I Grow Weary of Speaking to My Audience

I can't believe it's snowing.

It's April 30th and it's snowing in Vermont.

This is why Vinny has more credibility than TV news.

It has now been more than ten days since the New York Times exposed the Pentagon's domestic propaganda program involving retired generals and, still, not a single major news network has even mentioned the story to their viewers, let alone responded to the numerous questions surrounding their own behavior. This steadfast blackout occurs despite the fact that the Pentagon propaganda program almost certainly violates numerous federal laws; both Democratic presidential candidates sternly denounced the Pentagon's conduct; and Congressional inquiries are already underway, all of which forced the Pentagon to announce that it suspended its program.

Still, there has not been a peep from the major news networks at the center of the storm, the integrity of whose reporting on the Iraq war is directly implicated by this story. Even establishment media defender Howard Kurtz called their ongoing failure to cover this story "pathetic."

http://www.salon.com/opinion/greenwald/2008/04/30/williams/index.html?source=rss&aim=/opinion/greenwald

The article goes on to detail that various of these Super Patriot generals sat on the boards of, or otherwise had financial stakes in, companies that make money by killing people.

This "war" has nothing to do with anything but money.

It seems that everyone's participation in it, from the defense contractors to the television and print news outfits, is guided more by the Ferengi Rules of Acquisition than any patriotic or moral considerations. So let's knock off the ra-ra, USA Number One bit, okay?

It's all about stuffing yourselves with money, while reserving the right to kill another to achieve that.

Any writing skills that I may have--

really are solely the product of listening to poets.

Sure, I always enjoyed reading and I had a decent command of grammar and syntax. But writing anything more than a technical document was beyond me. It was only when I started listening and performing at that spoken-word open mic that I began to figure it out.

I will tell you that there is no better cure for bloated, boring, go-nowhere writing than to have to deliver it live. If you are at all in tune with your audience, you will learn to make it short and sweet. If, for example, an audience member ever steals a glance at his watch, there is something very wrong with your piece. At your next performance of it, you had better tighten it up.

So for anyone who wishes to become a better writer, I would suggest going to a poetry or spoken-word open mic and personally delivering your material. It's immediate feedback.

Writing a decent piece essentially amounts to coaxing an audience in, stuffing your message down their gullets, and then slapping their mouths closed before they ever have a chance to complain.

And then you're on to the next piece.

Does the nickname--

'the canary' mean anything to anyone in my audience? I'm trying to figure out if that means anything. I can't quite figure it out.

I will extend to the complete geniuses in my audience--

the chance to guess why precisely I might be introducing a new central character into the show, the hypothesized foreign life form. Can you do it? Ooh, ooh, wipe away the drool first! Then think about it. I'll give you a hint: The role this character will play begins with the letter s.

And it's OK to take a Kleenex to the Arizona Republic's chin for them and smooth their matted hair and help them through the exercise.

I saw some of that "Carrier" documentary on PBS.

It's about life aboard a United States aircraft carrier.

I had to turn it off I was so disgusted. Today's military is nothing like it was twenty years ago.

I have a spare bedroom with my I Love Me Wall. On it I display all my Navy photos and shadow boxes with medals and citations and the like. I do not show it to many people out of embarrassment. I will show it only if I can first explain that that was a different time.

These days I do not usually volunteer the information that I was ever in the military. There is only dishonor there.

Lunatic Fringe (1988 Wrestling)

Today an over-curious cop from the Bellows Falls Police Department--

the jack-booted little thugs who think they're patrolling Tikrit-- came into the gas station. I saw him look at the registration plate of my car. He's got his little buzz-cut and his black, Nazi Bicycle Brigade uniform on and his weapon on his belt. I wanted to point to it and say, "Oh, you've got one, too? How cute."

So he wants to know whose car that is out there. "Mine."

"What's with the plate?"

"Talk to the Governor."

"You don't get ticketed for that?"

"Nope."

"Why not? Is that an exempt vehicle?"

"Talk to the Governor." I walked away. Cops hate it when you walk away from them when they're talking to you. He was a quarter mile out of his jurisdiction and, thus, could have been carrying on nothing but a personal conversation, but they hate it anyway. When he left I could see him IDing me through the window and talking to someone on the phone and hyperventilating like a hungry street cur denied a meal.

It would seem that someone should have notified all cognizant law enforcement agencies by now that there might be a Blue Saturn Vue driving around with United Sovereigns of America plates on it. It's a new legal development, you see. It's what happens when the standards of law are so low that the conscionable man has to form his own political union.

Here is the reasoning:

1. For various reasons that I have explained already, the United States ceased to exist in law.
2. And, either the State of Vermont does not exist because it carries out the edicts of the now-defunct United States, or
3. The State of Vermont relinquished any claim to territory through its acquiescence to lawlessness within its territory.
4. Either way, there is no such thing as territorial jurisdiction for some State of Vermont. (Or for any of the several states.) Any such entity exists on an equal moral footing with any other political union operating within the territory.

My person and property are outside any other jurisdiction. Those jurisdictions have proven themselves unfit to rule.

The best legal analog I can come up with regarding those plates is that they are to be considered diplomatic plates. They are evidence that the vehicle and its contents are under the protection of another sovereign.

Would somebody please do their job and notify any cognizant law enforcement agencies of the nature of that vehicle? You've already unwisely placed yourselves in a single-action environment. Remember: You have announced to the world that someone who permits a pair of handcuffs to be placed on him will be delivered to the now-defunct United States and be tortured and killed. Smooth move.

So how do you think the reasonable person might respond to the threat of being arrested? I have zero interest in making any trips to the station-house. ...and then to Uzbekistan.

Any untoward behavior upon my person or that vehicle will be regarded as an act of war.

Do us all a big, big favor please and promote comity among jurisdictions by at least notifying any cognizant law enforcement agencies of what that vehicle is.

This is what you get when no one is following the rules. You lose the right to specify what they are.

I don't care how you phrase it or what you do or do not legitimize. Just put out a memo, please.

The love of 3-space energy is the root of all evil.

The love of money is the root of all evil. That does not mean that money should not be appreciated or protected or husbanded, but that it should never be worshipped. It should not be regarded as even approaching the value of your moral code.

That's why we have so many "message force multipliers" running around. Chances are that you, too, have somehow sold yourself out at some point. You came to regard money as superior to your values. I have not. I never have, only because I am stubborn by nature.

Systems of evil and nastiness and wickedness get built by people who are promised the world in exchange for their souls. This is because "Satan," that darker side of human nature or perhaps a foreign life form, possesses only the ability to order 3-space energy. It possesses no ability to deliver time-domain energy, God's Luminescent Energy, the stuff of life, love.

As they say, there's one thing that money can't buy, and that's love.

Therefore, to smash the system we must resist the lure of money and give freely that which cannot be delivered by "Satan."

Love.

It's that simple. Make your every action one of love.

This is for the geniuses in my audience.

And I'm trying to make a distinction here. I have both extremely intelligent people in my audience and very stupid people. I wish the stupid people would leave. But they never do. So I have to go through this now and again.

1. This is what is known in the industry as a "show." Or at least that is how I am conceptualizing it to myself. There is a lot of truth to be found here. But I am a showman. I know that audiences are stupid. You have to sex things up and add big explosions and shiny lights and drama and spaceships. Try to use your brains for once and make some distinction between the cardboard spaceships and the rock-solid truths sitting in the center of the stage.
2. I will say bad words. I do this on purpose. If you can't handle words, you'll never be able to handle concepts. I am stretching your ability to contemplate ideas. You've been drooling in front of the television for so long that some of the material is just remedial thinking exercises.
3. I am not an historian. Nor am I a newsman, lawyer, economist, theologian, physicist, soothsayer, messiah, or whatever else you may demand me to be so that you can hold me to some standard. I do whatever it is I do. If what I do meets the occupational requirements of any of the foregoing, then great. If not, then don't complain because I have already told you I'm none of those.
4. My writing is a transcription of a spoken word piece. I rattle around the house, something comes in my head, I sit down at the computer, I speak it, and I type what I speak. I write everything in one draft, one sitting. I reserve the right to claim a detachment from my material. I say things that surprise me sometimes.
5. I hate my audience. I also love them. It depends on my mood. If I piss you off, just know that I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't feel a true affection for all of you. Thanks for sticking around through my tantrums. Your continued faith is what drives me to put on a good show for you. So please don't think that I take your forbearance for granted. I am very fortunate to have the audience that I have. ...And you are very fortunate to have the performer that you have. Don't you take me for granted, either.
6. I could be arrested, tortured, and killed at any moment. This is going to affect my moods. I keep it together as best I can. I would invite anyone in my audience to cover this unfortunate material without getting angry or pissing people off.
7. I will no longer call myself America's Senior Comedian(R). I sense that it is rubbing people the wrong way and perhaps it is not appropriate for the newcomer. So I'll call myself America's Senior Hobbyist Comedian(R). That's better, right?
8. I liken my theater to the mess tent of a M.A.S.H. unit. I'm singing and dancing on stage, with one hand banging out a ragtime number on a piano with patriotic bunting all 'round, artillery shells falling outside, and I pull a hand-grenade pin with my teeth and use my free hand to lob it over everyone's heads at the organized criminals in the back row who want to kill me. I'm trying to entertain everyone, keep my charges safe, and somehow convince the criminals of the error of their ways all while hoping the disembodied voice over the camp loudspeaker never yells "Bug out!"
9. My audience gets a free show. They have somehow convinced themselves that it's okay to stiff me on the ticket price just because the Government Man has a special shit-caked piece of paper that says I'm a Psychological Terris. (It would seem to be a requirement for a comedian, but whatever.) Belly up to the bar, you skinflints. But in any case, IF YOU ARE NOT PAYING FOR THE SHOW, THEN YOU MAY NOT SAY ANYTHING OTHER THAN COMPLIMENTARY THINGS ABOUT ME. You are all freeloaders. Don't forget that.
10. I never set out to forge new political systems and revolutionize the entire being of humanity. I wanted to do some jokes on dating, porn, and my penis. And then call it a fun exercise and go home. It didn't work out that way. This monster took on a life of its own. I can hardly keep this beast under control sometimes. You want to climb on and try your hand at it?
11. I have a greater emotional connection with my audience than I do the people in my daily life. I do this because I love you. That's got to smooth some feathers, doesn't it?

That's about it. Try not to piss me off too much.