Occupy American #3: Broke Down Palace…

Dear Friends,

At the behest of Wall Street, international banks and insurance companies, the city of Denver was shut down today. Nobody was permitted to leave nor enter the city via major highways, highways that We The People own, that We The People paid for. The rational for the lock down of a major American city was that protesters were interfering with commerce. Today's action was one of a police state.

Our democracy has become a broke down palace. It is now a sham. I think I'll go out and see if I can get myself arrested for being a citizen this afternoon. I know how to do that. All I have to do is stand in front of a bank on Main Street and take pictures of other citizens with signs protesting the ruin of our economy and general betrayal of obligations by our so-called leaders in government and business.

Res Ipsa Loquitor,

S

Utterly Pathetic: Occupy America #2

Dear Friends,

Below is a photograph that well illustrates how utterly pathetic things have become on our nation's streets. Here is a man armed with a gun in broad daylight. What is this? Are we back to the days of the wild west? No, this fellow has been hired to defend The Bank of America against its own customers in 21st Century America. He stands proudly on guard before a tide of righteous ire at the financial and business sector. This has not much been seen but for occasional intervals every few decades in times of exceptional distress.

Back during the last depression, bankers contracted armed thugs to protect real estate that housed empty vaults. That made a lot of sense to those financiers. The wealthy continued to take home their fine salaries and bonuses rewarding them for the ruination of the world economy. The common man went hungry, their male children were sent to ride the rails to find work, any work. Their wives sold apples, if any were to be found, on the streets along side their daughters selling pencils for a penny outside the bank on Main Street. That empty bank was worth more than Humanity in the estimation of the Titans of Disaster.

So, here we are today. It's just another day like any other day, lo many years ago. We are being greeted on the streets that we, The People, own. Our gracious host is a jack-booted bullet head goon with a gun.

The most pathetic aspect of this situation is that the poor jerk in the photo is likely making barely a living wage as he is employed to guard safe fortunes for folks that would not have him in their home, wish not to lend a hand to feed nor clothe his babies, and would let his beloved wife die without medical care. We are living in a time of depravity.

Figure out for yourself how you might occupy America. Think for yourself. You will know what to do. All I can recommend is that you not simply take up space, but occupy America.

Res Ipsa Loquoitor,

S

Occupy America…

Dear Friends,

The big "Occupy Wall Street" hoo-hah has now over-run my own little city, Northampton, MA. This, I believe, is a good thing. I actually do not know what they exactly stand for. I suspect they don't either. But, they are righteously pissed-off and solidly in favor of Democracy, and so am I. So I stand with them.

Res Ipsa Loquitor,

S

Here's my girl…

Dear Friends,

I am so pleased to introduce my lovely red-headed gal, seven foot eight of glowing elegance. She is radiant. She is rare in aspect and divine in manner. This here is my girl, the darlin' Ms. Applebaum. Whad'ya think?

Res Ipsa Loquitor,

S

iPhone4 w/PictureMagic on Red/Green Filter

Off Main Street…

Dear Friends,

This little ditty got my attention as I wandered away from the Main Street…

Res Ispa Loquitur,

S

Babbage's Difference Engine…

Folks,


Charles Babbage (1791-1871) had ideas that were far ahead of his time. Had his Analytical Engine come to fruition in his lifetime it is entirely possible that computer science would have taken hold in the 1880s. He even saw its output as a printer. Recently, however, work has begun to digitize and open source his plans for the first computer, albeit a mechanical beast, of the industrial age.

The Babbage Difference Engine

The Greeks of 2,000 years ago, however, had already come up with the the Antikythera Mechanism, an ancient mechanical computer^[1][2] designed to calculate astronomical positions.

Antikythera Mechanism

We are clever folks, but apparently too apt to forget, perhaps.


Hic Finis Est,


S

Adios, Andy…

Andy,

You were a fine man. Besotted and bedraggled, a rounder, bounder and down and out. But you knew how to share and with whom to share what. When we met in the cot shelter down on Center Street, when I was ragged and worn out at the end of my rope, you offered me a swig of your contraband hooch.

I declined the offer, but was quite impressed that the good folks tending night watch who would otherwise have no tolerance for such poor behavior as yours found some forbearance in the illumination of your inherent sweetness.

Still, you were no innocent. You knew how to find a place to escape the rain in the city and the floods down by the river, the cops in the parks in the late night and early dawn. I cannot share those secrets, as I do not know them as well as you and, like you, would not want to give a friend a bum steer. But, I do thank you for pointing me toward that space under the old church one punishing night that fell upon a particularly hard day.

You gave me other gifts, as well. One afternoon after a hard autumn rain, I found you sitting in a muddy puddle under the trestle on Main Street. You were content, but would entertain some company. It was my privilege to join you. Skinny as your sorry butt was, you were the biggest fish in that pond, and I was your guest. You honored me with a smile and some wry crack about proper people walkin' by. I don't recall what it was you said, it's now lost on the wind, but I felt at the time that there was some wisdom in your observation. I know it made me smile and to be proud to be sitting in that puddle.

That wit! You kept a tight grip on it, but you could fling it like a switchblade to tear the meat off the bones of the pompous and self-absorbed. A few moments later you would be dispensing more kindness to those folks around you who knew what to make of such.

Well, anyhow, in your hours 'tween blood and roses, you did stomp on the floor boards of what can pass for reality to most of us. Your clear eyes, no matter how drenched in that russian wine, never lost their shine until they closed one last time. Your voice is now silent, yet still on the wind. You don't need anymore change nor booze. So, in a way you won when that vein in your head finally blew out. But, your loving friends have lost a treasure.

Thank you, Andy. I gotta go now to steal a twig of evergreen and toss it on a memorial to fine, strange, beautiful man who is gone from this fine, strange, beautiful world that he once graced.

Hic Finis Est,

S