My real blog, "Emails-To-The-Editor," can be found at http://appledorf.blogspot.com.
"Heart of the Matter," below, is an ambitious project I started a few years ago that has never gotten more than an inch or so off the ground. Thanks.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Heart? Matter?
People who know more than I do about politics and are in actual touch with what is going on have more facts about these things to advertise than I do. What I'm hoping to get at in my blog is what it feels like to live enveloped by a culture that understands itself in terms that have nothing to do with how I understand myself.
I grew up in an insane family at a time when psychological services were not widely available, so what you might call terminal alienation was burned into the very fibers of my personality. This is not entirely a bad thing, as my bullshit detector has been finally tuned from the beginning, and it is now one of the few organs I have left that still works perfectly. When I was in college, communists were the enemy. After Luella killed herself, men were the enemy. Now terrorists are the enemy. And the people spouting this stuff always seem to dictate their beliefs at you from inside an impenetrable steel barrel.
I have strong political convictions, but my politics derive from how I understand the world, not the other way around. I don't have to twist the facts or ignore what's in front of my nose to be the one who is in control, because it isn't possible to be in control. But I do try to communicate, because a certain hunger for human contact drives me. When I come up against walls and projections that surprise, disappoint, or depress me, I want to explain what went wrong, and here I suppose I am as qualified as anyone to talk about it, to the extent that I am able to be honest with myself.
I grew up in an insane family at a time when psychological services were not widely available, so what you might call terminal alienation was burned into the very fibers of my personality. This is not entirely a bad thing, as my bullshit detector has been finally tuned from the beginning, and it is now one of the few organs I have left that still works perfectly. When I was in college, communists were the enemy. After Luella killed herself, men were the enemy. Now terrorists are the enemy. And the people spouting this stuff always seem to dictate their beliefs at you from inside an impenetrable steel barrel.
I have strong political convictions, but my politics derive from how I understand the world, not the other way around. I don't have to twist the facts or ignore what's in front of my nose to be the one who is in control, because it isn't possible to be in control. But I do try to communicate, because a certain hunger for human contact drives me. When I come up against walls and projections that surprise, disappoint, or depress me, I want to explain what went wrong, and here I suppose I am as qualified as anyone to talk about it, to the extent that I am able to be honest with myself.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Torture.
I told my friend Dwight in an email that it was obvious from the start that American torture originated in the Oval Office. Dwight said my email was good fodder for my blogger.
OK. Here it is.
Our Nazi cabal have been doing every dance imaginable to make it look like it didn't (originate in the Oval Office). But a guy at the Washington Post read the reports carefully enough to piece the story together, and finally an article in the corporate press places the blame at Bush's feet, where it belongs:
How Torture Came Down From the Top
It is a simple fact that the USA is ruled by criminals, and this does not surprise me, given that the stock in trade of our ruling class is to overthrow democracies and install criminals all over the world.
This is a real fascist regime, a real police state, dangerously close to sewing up all of its loose ends. And it is armed to the teeth with nuclear bombs. They do business by stealing money, not making products. And their competitors, who do make products, are driving them into the dirt. A police state, armed with nuclear bombs, with a huge imbalance of trade and an extremely greedy ruling class. A recipe for disaster.
They look you right in the face and say black is white, white is black. This is not cafe hyperbole. This is the United States in the year 2005.
OK. Here it is.
Our Nazi cabal have been doing every dance imaginable to make it look like it didn't (originate in the Oval Office). But a guy at the Washington Post read the reports carefully enough to piece the story together, and finally an article in the corporate press places the blame at Bush's feet, where it belongs:
How Torture Came Down From the Top
It is a simple fact that the USA is ruled by criminals, and this does not surprise me, given that the stock in trade of our ruling class is to overthrow democracies and install criminals all over the world.
This is a real fascist regime, a real police state, dangerously close to sewing up all of its loose ends. And it is armed to the teeth with nuclear bombs. They do business by stealing money, not making products. And their competitors, who do make products, are driving them into the dirt. A police state, armed with nuclear bombs, with a huge imbalance of trade and an extremely greedy ruling class. A recipe for disaster.
They look you right in the face and say black is white, white is black. This is not cafe hyperbole. This is the United States in the year 2005.
Monday, August 16, 2004
Hello world.
Eight or 9 years ago, while I was living in Pacific Beach, in San Diego, I played the role of auteur for 6 months and actually succeeded in writing down my autobiography. I still find the story fascinating, as it is my own personal story, but it seems that I am the only person who feels this way. As one friend put it, "Who wants to read about someone who isn't famous?"
I did manage to talk one old friend into reading my autobiography, but he only read one chapter, the one entitled "Mr. Cat." He liked it and still says he thinks it is very good, but I have long ago given up asking him to read any more of it.
The book consists of ten chapters. I particularly like the ones entitled "The Radio" and "The Alley." I would be delighted if you read some of my autobiography yourself.
Having gotten my autobiography out of my system, I am at this late date ready to discuss subjects other than my own life. So here's my blog. Of course I am only a layman in every subject under the sun, and my inept guesses at possible ways to think about big questions are subjects for scholars far more knowledgeable than I am to write books about. But I do muddle on, so let's see if I have anything interesting to say.
I did manage to talk one old friend into reading my autobiography, but he only read one chapter, the one entitled "Mr. Cat." He liked it and still says he thinks it is very good, but I have long ago given up asking him to read any more of it.
The book consists of ten chapters. I particularly like the ones entitled "The Radio" and "The Alley." I would be delighted if you read some of my autobiography yourself.
Having gotten my autobiography out of my system, I am at this late date ready to discuss subjects other than my own life. So here's my blog. Of course I am only a layman in every subject under the sun, and my inept guesses at possible ways to think about big questions are subjects for scholars far more knowledgeable than I am to write books about. But I do muddle on, so let's see if I have anything interesting to say.
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