Some Facts about Jack H

Across countless millennia, mere men have admired, nay, revered Jack H to the fullest extent that the human heart is capable. And rightly so. Jack H has never broken an egg. He has constructed a language by which ants may communicate with bees, and he speaks sign-language with Big Foot.

During the span of a red light stop Jack H can teach anyone to hold his or her breath for at least 45 minutes. He holds the world record for backward closed-eye one-legged tightrope hopping, both speed and endurance. He is irresistible to all women, but has remained a virgin (with one exception) for compassionate reasons.

Jack H knows how to unicycle, and where Osama bin Laden is hiding. He invented ice-sculpting. He built the world's tallest sand castle. He is a master electrician. He was the model for each title character in The Magnificent Seven.

More radio song requests have been dedicated to Jack H than to any to any other person, living or otherwise. He once deliberately forgot how to generate economically viable cold-fusion energy. He knows how to play baseball, basketball and American football.

Jack H spot-composes countless operas, libretto in haiku form, using only percussive instruments, for which he wins Nobel Prizes in Musicology, a category established for him. He floats like a butterfly, stings like a bee, knows that winning is the only thing and that nice guys finish last. He never loses. He knows a Fourth member of the Trinity, a Fifth Noble Truth, a Sixth Pillar of Islam, a Ninth Path-fold, and the nine-billion-and-first Name of God.

Nobody has ever not repaid a debt they owed Jack H. He has an extra appendix. He tutors at-risk inner city youth in the art of topiary. The outline of his shadow hangs in the foyer of the Louvre. He found Saddam Hussain's spider hole.

Jack H has earned tens of millions of dollars lecturing on superconductors, and donates all proceeds to the worthy poor. Not content simply to dispose of garbage and automatically wash dishes, Jack H can climb any wall he sees, and applies the arcane principles of feng shui masterfully to the redesign of inartful public monuments. He still uses the Dewey Decimal System. He created an object so heavy that even he can't move it. To amuse a sick child, he once memorized the complete works of Bulwer-Lytton. Variations in his spelling become standard.

Jack H averted al-Qaeda's next attack. He has successfully amended the Second Law of Thermodynamics. He never wears polka dots -- he does wear polka stripes. He alphabetizes street addresses as he passes them. He has never believed a lie. He has never received junk email. He never blinks.

J

Contact

I did manage to have a child with my former wife, but it wasn't for lack of not trying. I tried, as it were, but she wasn't really into it. You know, sex. Not such a good match. I say this because I just got a letter from her, from England. First contact since N's high school graduation eight years ago.

Somehow she thought it would be appropriate to send me a copy of a long and extremely personal letter to someone I do not know and have never heard of. A sort of autobiography. I appear in it once, I think. I've only skimmed it. I am described as having grown enraged and verbally abusive. Seems like I'd rate a somewhat more detailed description, seeing as how I am the father of her only child.

So when she talks about me now, these 20 years and more after the death of that marriage, this is what she has to say. Her various friends, she writes, have urged her to send me the copy of that letter -- you know, the autobiography, where I appear as the enraged and abusive man who demands sex. She writes that I demanded my "conjugal rights." She provides the quotation marks. I am more than very sure that I never uttered such a phrase in a context that she would quote here.

It's sad to think that she has changed so little. The urge to be understood by people who have just moved on. Yes, this little blog has sprouted some toadstools of the soul, but I don't target my audience. You invite yourself. It's that same circling-the-drain adolescent angst that sucked me into a relationship with her in the first place -- me listening to her stories about how badly men had treated her, and me getting all mad about it, and protective and outraged. Funny how my outrage became enrage. Point is, it's almost 30 years later, and the stories haven't changed. Not as much growth as we might have hoped, for all the talk about Pluto and Mercury in retrograde.

The only thing I ever say about my former wife is that she was a very good mother to a little boy. Then I say that she did have a problem with the boy when he got older, because she had a problem with masculine behavior. Then I shrug, with a wan smile, and a hand-movement that's meant to communicate go in peace.

She has written on the top of this very long letter that it is to be destroyed after reading. "Please destroy after Reading." I'll probably destroy it before reading. I'm just done with all that. I wish her well, I have kind feelings, but I will never again, I say, be sucked into her nightmare. I think being cast as the abuser is not the role I want for myself. And I think that any honest opinion, actually communicated, would be misunderstood and interpreted harshly. I've just seen it happen too often -- inevitably. So it is highly unlikely that I will respond. Perhaps a meaningless courtesy note, the sort of small talk that I am very bad at, vapid, platitudinous, Life is good, hope this finds you well.

I don't see how I'll ever have another wife. But did I ever even have one before? My judgment is not good. Not to worry. I have things to do. I was up all night doing some building. Everything takes much longer than you'd think. Something about Jesus here. How he was a carpenter, and everything takes longer than you'd think, to build it right.

J

Understanding

I look back across the span of these 8 years and trust that there must, must be something to understand. As I've said, I lost three sons in less than a year, fall and winter and spring. One to duty, for only a time, 5 1/2 years -- the others to chaos, evil and betrayal and chaos, forever.

Joey's 22nd birthday was a few days ago. Happy birthday, Joey -- love, Dad. His voice, undeveloped, comes to me still at odd moments -- but that young boy no longer exists. Neither does the man who stepped into the place of a father. I am another man now, who weeps sometimes because the wind touches his face. But not so much anymore.

Jason disappeared into darkness, perhaps coming somehow eventually into light. I wouldn't know.

The son of my body, my son, my pride, is a good man, 26 tomorrow, hard, young still, not better than me, but with far greater hopes.

I thought yesterday that I'd rather have no hope, than false hope. Pandora showed us that hope is created out of hardship. We learn wisdom when we find it. As for understanding, the prophets make it clear that wisdom and understanding are two separate things. Wisdom comes first. It must be sufficient.

Still, I'd like to understand.

Days and Days

Oy, there's lots to say. I just don't have a convenient computer all day long, and I am a creature of mood. Something about how small Obama is. Tiny at that gigantic Presidential desk he hid behind during his well-read meaningless speech. Like most lean men, he's best seen in motion. Long behind a lectern, small behind a desk. Things of real substance diminish him. Like, uh, the Constitution. Holy water to a vampire. Natural enemies.

Yes, FP is now dedicated entirely to Obama bashing.

Personal stuff? I'm just not inclined to go there. Things are both somewhat unsettled, and leveled out. I've been getting hardly any sleep, on the verge of getting sick, but just slipping its punch. Rolling a little bit -- -- digging out my old gis, and finding that most of them seem to be far too small. I don't know why I have them. Just don't remember them. Had a big pile, and washed them all, and only a few of them are usable. But I'm finding which ones at least. This will be my third round -- first was the 3 years that ended in idiocy, second was the six months that ended 7 months ago. Now I hope to be starting up again.

Haven't trained fitness this month, hardly at all. Four or five times. I must have lost 5 or so pounds. Not eating enough. Probably looking pretty gaunt ... I tend to gaunt if I'm not mindful. Let's call it Lincolnesque. Once on the road he was stopped by an old woman who informed him that he was just about the ugliest man she'd ever seen. He said, "Ma'am, I can't help my face." She replied, "No, I guess not. But you could stay home." I however am quite beautiful.

Maybe I'll go back to commenting on daily politics, or about history.

J

Darkness and Darkness Again

Indeed, I do seem to be busy. But I suppose there should be some comment on the stupid city I live near. LA. Lawless *ssholes. How to you capitalize an asterisk?

Why do the morons riot and burn when their team WINS? Because they are scum. Is LA cursed with an excess of scum? Well, yes. Not American scum, mind you, but it is American scum who tolerate it. There is a choice, between cities of law, and sities of "sanctuary" from the law. In this case I have to confess that I am very Old Testament indeed. No city of refuge for the rioters.

And the police force ... but I use the wrong word. The police enablers stand by, sort of in riot gear, but with they're arms folded, mostly. Because the scum coward pols so instruct them. LA has the worst mayor of any large city in America. The worst council. They have ruined the city. It isn't unsalvageable, the way America was not unsalvageable after Carter. It's just that it took a Reagan. You know, leadership and guts. Guilliani. That's why he was my guy. Not my kind of conservative, but it's about results, about competence, as the current Speech-Giver in Chief so painfully illustrates by negative example.

There is, really, a part of me that wants a massacre. Find the rioting scum, and gun them down. Fear if God. But in LA, when you riot, you get to sue. It's the Neo-American Way ... you know, the Obama Way. So BP has a rig that's leaking, "leaking" a lot of oil. So get the CEO and have him listen to Congressional speechmakers for a week or two. Cuz, uh, that's how the problem will get fixed. It's all about speechifying. Even Israel is changing its blockade. Backing down all over. The lights are going out all over the world.

Obama's solution is to put BP out of business. What, it's too close to BO? None shall follow after him? Is he Harod? 20 billion, to be administered by, uh, Obama. And we can be utterly assured that every penny will go to the victims. None of it at all will be wasted. No no no. That's the Chicago Way. Efficiency. Yep.

I can hardly stand it.


J

Re: nutri

Here.

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From: Z@S.com
To: s@h.com
Subject: RE: nutri
Date: Sun, 13 Jun 2010

This is a 20 year old lecture, with 20 year old science backing its validity.

Hmm … so we need to eat far more potatoes and wheat, and reduce all that coronary-artery clogging fat and cholesterol?

Fast Food is bad, of course. Abundant dairy is also dangerous, no argument there. This was produced in the heart of the low-fat dogma horseshot. Clear vegetarian agenda. ADM and Monsanto would be thrilled at the further distribution of this material.

People should eat plants as the basis of their nutritional program, agreed. However, this is still “fat is bad,” in an old lecture. PUFA are NOT healthy—they cause heart disease. Remember margarine? It still makes people sick, butter does not.

This lecture tells us that PUFA is healthy—and that linoleic acid is healthy. This MD makes no correlation between increase of grain and sugar and heart disease—a calculated oversight? He also tells us we need more low and non-fat options on our school cafeteria menus. That sounds like GREAT advice! Replace naturally occurring fat with sugar, cornstarch, and other manufactured carbohydrate product. Grain patties? Give me a break. Pastas are healthy for us? No, they are not. Corn is a good grain? Wheat is a good grain? No, they are not. They are empty calories filled with anti-nutrients that make our guts leak, and our immune systems go bonkers. Soy protein is very good for us? No, it’s not. Tofu is not a healthy substance, either. It’s not good to increase estrogen and fill ourselves with incomplete low-quality protein, any more than it is to fill out bodies to excess with factory-farmed beef and lamb and chicken.

Grain is Good to keep people from starving—YES! But not good food for people to eat. Nor is it food for cows and pigs to eat. It’s food for grain seeds to eat.

I will also argue that grains are NOT plant foods. They are the seeds of those foods, which are fundamentally different from non-starchy vegetables. They are designed to feed the nucleus of the seed, in order to allow it to germinate. They are not designed for human consumption. They make people inflamed and sick. See all the Crohn’s disease patients that attempt to follow a low-fat, high-carb nutritional program, with bleeding guts as their fantastic result.

Lower fat, more seed oils, more grain. This does not make healthy people. This is more Vegetarian Myth.

Given what I know of your diet (Jack), you do not follow this doctor’s advice or recommendations.

Someone said this, and it is a great rule of thumb: “Eat food. Not much, mostly plants.”


Z

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From: jh (s@h.com)
Sent: Sun 6/13/10
To: z@s.com

Son, you miss the point.

You see the case he makes. It's compelling, as far as it goes. Look at his biometrics, and aside from his rather gaunt appearance, you can't argue with the improvement of the measurements. You've missed the idea of moderation in his presentation. Some whole rice. No more than 4 slices of whole bread. Honestly, that sounds very reasonable. It sounds almost ... well, not Paleo, but Meso. I eat less than that. No bread at all, to speak of. A handful of rice, maybe, once in a while.

Given a real-food diet, linoleic and linolenic acids are each benevolent and necessary. It's the imbalance. You did not know this until just now. Without omega 6, you have AIDS. No, not really, but a capacity for inflammation is at the heart of the immune response. Duh. The on-switch is at least as important as the off-switch. It's just you Americans with your idiot diet, who do everything to the extreme. You should be more like me.

(I don't recall his mentioning margarine as a food.)

Yes they are too. Corn. Wheat. Good grains. You have drunk the Kool Aid. Was it yummy?

And how you amuse me, with your "grains are not plant foods." You, with your offal and lard deathcicle pemmican confection. Carrion comfort food.

The point is, don't be dogmatic. A not-entirely-right point of view is not necessarily entirely wrong.

And his point about what we are designed for is correct. Meat is for famines. Grains are for inventing civilization. Somewhere in between, there is wisdom. I, of course, have found it. You, sadly, are still on the path. Godspeed.


J

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Z@S.com
To: s@h.com
Subject: RE: nutri
Date: Sun, 13 Jun 2010

It’s not difficult to get ALL of the n-6 you need—as it is present in so many of the n-3 rich foods we tout as being important. Almonds, raw pepitas, etc. Sure, stay in balance—but it’s not as if many of us are in danger of getting to little n-6. 4 slices of bread a day? That sounds excessive to me. That’s 4 servings of bread, before one eats their pasta and rice and bagels and other essential starches.

I liked the info on the blood vials and fat, at the beginning of the lecture. Grains ARE for beginning civilization. However, they are NOT good for human animals to eat and use to nourish themselves, as the largest part of our diet. Just because we (humans) have been eating them for a long time, does not make them good or smart.

I never drink Kool-Aid. Except for some of the Crossfit stuff. And that’s only because they are RIGHT.


Black and White—that’s all we need.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


From: jh (s@h.com)
Sent: Sun 6/13/10
To: z@s.com


I agree with you more than you agree with me, which is precisely the opposite of how it should be.

It's a moot point that his specific approach is outdated. Paleo is even more outdated. He was on the path to getting it right -- which is to move away from the SAD. How it's better to move to the other extreme escapes me, however.

1. We are not carnivors.

2. We can tolerate some carnivorous activity, provided that it is not our bodies that are being eaten.

3. All vitality is based on a plant-based diet -- whether directly or indirectly.

4. Paracites are at the top of the food chain -- they eat carnivors.

5. Radient health is achieved neither by eating a grain-based diet nor a animal-based diet.

6, The advantages that meat diets give are the result of limiting the disadvantages of a poor plant-based diet.

7. A balanced vegetarian diet is vastly superior to a diet that contains any significant animal products.

QED.

One hundred dollars, please.


J

Whatever

Turns out Tuvok Obama has emotions after all. He told us so. Other than the obvious one, of overweening pride. When you're that wonderful, which of course it is impossible for anyone else to be, pride is an obligation. But my oh my, he would be sooo furious, if fury were productive. He allows himself the pride because it is so productive.

From now on, the years shall no more be counted Anno Domini, the Year of our Lord. Henceforth, the years shall be BP -- Barack Primus ... no, uh, By Proclamation ... Busted Pipe ... um, buh, buh ...

Okay, my muse has left me. It's just that it's been almost a week and I know how disloyal my readership is. Gotta put on the little show to keep the rubes quiet. It's just that I've been very busy. I had the operation. You know, the operation. You know, about that thing in my pants? It was such a nuisance. No, just kidding. There's nothing in my pants. Well, sometimes I store potatoes there. Ah, I see I spelled potatoes correctly. The operation was about removing that parasitic twin from my armpit. No, just kidding again. I'm keeping that. The operation, the operation. You know that one. We talked about it when we were drag queens, no I mean heroin addicts in the Tenderloin district. I got yer tenderloin right here, baby. So anyway, I had it. Like I have my wisdom teeth, all four of them. Plenty of room in my mouth, baby, for all kinds of teeth. Got room for more. Bring em on. I have a unhinging jawbone, like an anaconda. I can swallow a watermelon whole. The chicks really dig that.

And this is where I would tell you the secret of it all. Except it's inside a suitcase that shines like the heart of a star, and then we all die.

J

Sins of Omission

Qbama has finally noticed that he's 7 times less competent than W was. If memory serves, it took Bush 5 days to get himself to the hurricane, and, what, 40 days? -- let's call it 40 days, the number of judgment -- for Qbama to bestir himself and break away from his golf and fundraising and hectoring and daily interview-giving and press-conference-not-giving-except once-every-10-months. Well, he's been busy.

But off he flew at last to look at tarballs in the gulf. "I hereby decree that there shall be no tarballs in this gulf!" And it was so! Because, well, not nature nor the unnatural can resist Qbama and his will. Except, no, it wasn't so after all, because someone has to take the blame and it's BP.

A random sampling excerpted from Qbama Administration Apparatchiks: "BP blah blah blah blaaaa BP blah BP evil blah blah boots BP Republicans blah blah blappity BP BP for 8 years evil blah blah BP."

In his press conference (the duration between which coincides nicely with the gestation period of an elephant -- which is also the average length of one of his press-conference responses), Qbama had many revealing things to say. He nuanced the admission that our borders, Arizona's border, is "not entirely sealed". Lord, what a thing to say. It's like saying the house is locked up, except for all the doors. Y'see, it's just not entirely sealed. My bank is not entirely locked up. My submarine is not entirely waterproof. My blood is not entirely outside of my body. It's just ... these pesky little leaks.

The ocean floor is not entirely without leaks.

Qbama is not entirely competent.

But finally, and most telling, was when Qbama was asked about the racist-lead boycott against Arizona. His response? It left my ears ringing. He said, and I quote with the correct actual words, "I am the President of the United States, and blah blah blapity blah blah..."

Need I even comment?

Yes. Has any president ever uttered those words before? It seems incredible. On so many levels. At best, I would hope he says it with incredulity. That's how I say it. He is president?!? Unbelievable. But of course Qbama says it with smugness, glibness, lightly, although the words are portentous. And because, somehow, Qbama is president, he deems it inappropriate to actually approve outloud with literal words the racist-lead boycott against one of the States United under Qbama's titular leadership.

So that's a good thing. Qbama has a sense of what is appropriate. It's a case of where he did not kick up his feet in the Oval Office, resting them on the desk at which Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation -- the spiritual desk, the living breathing penumbral desk -- the Desk of the President of the United States. It's a case of where he did not bow deeply from the waist before foreign sovereigns.

Ah well. That's what words are for. To reveal our innermost thoughts. Or to hide them, and by the attempt to cast their dragon-like silhouette. As when Qbama pronounced the idea that this oil catastrophe was bad for our people, our community and our souls. Or our populace, our neighborhoods and our spirits. Or our environment, our shoreline and our villages. Whatever. Point is, the moment he pronounced his eloquent sagacity, a clanging omission made itself obnoxious to my ears. Something was missing, oh so very very missing, from that list of things, whatever his point, that Qbama eloquented. Nation. Nation. Bad for our nation.

Why oh why did he not think of the nation? Why only our souls or shoreline or communities? Is he the Community Organizer of the United States? -- the President of the Shoreline? Country, Mr. Obama. Country. Sadly, Mr. Obama has just recently perorated his lecture note that "a nation is not defined by its borders. [This is where I refrain from enunciating a level of vulgarity that would shrivel your ovaries.] So, uh, I guess maps too are a living breathing thing. That's why they don't make Thomas Guides anymore, if they don't.

I have to say that Qbama appears to be contradictering himself, by orating one way and acting, or not, another. Yes, yes, he is the Contradictinger.

We'll have to watch for that from now on. It is his legacy. Qbama, the Great Self-Contradictinger.


J

Mission Accomplished

I have found my theme. It's just that I don't want to write on it. Like talking about what a whore your mother is. Even if she is, it is not meet to speak publicly of such things. Speaking truth can be as shaming as speaking lies.

Qbama. The hectoring quipmaster. The two-faced bullyboy. The finger-pointing uniter. The most transparent obfuscator ever. Truly, how stupid are we? -- or must we seem? First, to have elected this block organizer, and then to allow ourselves to be treated as we are? Hopefully we know enough about crises centers to escape before the battering becomes terminal.

It's the "boot on the neck" thing. Really? Really? Boot on the neck? And it doesn't lead the news? Dan Brokaw or rather his latest hairdoo teleprompter-reader doesn't simply repeat that one phrase over and over for the entire news half-hour? From the current president of the United States? -- or rather, from a haute mandarin of his machine? Of an entity, corporate, with which this nation is not currently at war? "Boot on the neck"? Should we then drive it into the sea, this Satanic thing over which Qbama towers erect in his administrative boots? So masterful, in his diktat -- "plug the damn hole."

My, all of a sudden I'm all quivery and sado-homoerotic. Sup wit dat?

Politics is such a messy business, all that compromise and negotiating and not getting my way. Business is messy. All this mess, this damn mess. It should be neat, not messy. I just won't tolerate it, this "business" stuff. From now on, it's going to be just the way I say. Enough with all this discussion and disagreement. You can ride in my car, but I'm driving, my way, as fast as I like, and you just shut the hell up in the back there and learn your place, which is token window dressing. I'll trot you out so you can do a little buck and wing to the tune I whistle, but then you just sit back down and nod your head when I talk. Get it? Stupid? Cuz I am always the smartest one in the room, and when I talk, you agree. Bitch. America, my bitch. That's right, bitch. You like that? Sure you do. I mean, why else did you elect me?

I am the Man of the Hour. I am Destiny's Child. I am The One. I shall ascend the Mountain of God. I shall be like the Most High.

J

Forsaken

If Mexico does not have the longest armed border in the world, it is because it does not have the longest border in the world. I speak of course of its southern border. However, when the president of Mexico comes to the assembled bodies of Congress and presumes to lecture us about rule of law, it is not, not I say, hypocrisy. The cowards and traitors and loathsome anti-American scum whom stupid stupid stupid Americans have elected to high office -- those monsters of self-seeking are the hypocrites.

Oh my. I seem to have become abusive in my emotionality. No matter. It's my Qbama Derangement Syndrome acting up. One government pill, please.

The Mexican leader was, in fact, doing his job. Looking out for his people. In this case, Calderon was looking out for them by trying to get them out of his toilet of a country, and into the promised land to the north. It is what those poor wretches trapped below his own southern border are trying to do. Somehow, Calderon's land of deprivation is yet superior to those which lie even more southward. Is the equator, then, hell itself?

If only we had such a leader. One who argued forcefully for the advantage of his nation's interest. Instead we have an entire political party that stands and cheers in the face of blatant political manipulation. Calderon must have been, secretly, astounded. Or perhaps he had a finger on the wavering, faltering pulse of our Left. In any case, his words must have been crafted primarily for home consumption. His homeland, I mean. Well, I should be even more clear. Mexico. The left does not recognize a meaningful distinction between the two sides of the border. The Left does not understand the meaning of borders.

For whom did the traitorous leftist political hacks in Congress actually stand and cheer? Meaningless question, as formulated. They cheered against something. Against the specific of Arizona and its federated sovereignty -- the Left hates states' rights -- and against American sovereignty. They cheered against American exceptionalism. Yes, I think this makes them traitors. To truth. Honestly, they should know better.

Compare then the left with the right. The left sees shades of gray. This is a good thing. Life is complex. Real life has not so very many villains. Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's literature that has few real villains. Good writers give their characters meaningful and convincing motivations, and when we understand motives, we acknowledge humanity and human worth. The left should be good at seeing this. Perhaps that's why writers, and artistic types in general, tend to the left.

As for the right, it's not more simple. It's more complex. Because sophisticated conservatives also see the gray. We see it. It's just that after we see the gray, we still know that a decision has to be made. We have to come down on one side or the other. Black or white. The left, perpetually adolescent, cannot choose. When there is gray, that is. In the black and white matter of left v right, they need not waver because they need not think. The matter is decided. Matters of dogma, you see, are decided, when you have a religion. And Leftism is a religion.

As you can see, I have no difficulty in choosing sides. No ideologue does. Nothing wrong with that. How do we discern rightly? I think it's a many are called few are chosen thing. I think it's a sort of election. I think it's the difference between salvation and damnation. Some people have garbage for souls, and they chose hell. Some people love truth, even when they are wrong, and they have the courage and patience and luck to search and perhaps find. They have the modesty to do so. They see the gray, and use it to guide them into the light.

I've said it before. There is corruption everywhere. No country is without it. The difference is that when Americans find it, they hate it and try to stop it. Mexico institutionalizes it. For shame. So that the Mexican president comes here to shed his darkness, and is lauded and feted for it, by the party of institutional corruption, we will not be dismayed. Our indignation will propel us to resolve, and our contempt will be a spur to greater honor.

America is still the light of the world, humanly speaking. Even in this dim time, ruled as we are by ignobility as Ahab ruled Israel, and even in our growing infirmity of purpose, our rush to embrace corruption, we still retain enough of our ancient character to outshine the rest of the world combined. As Arizona outshines so many of her fallen sisters.

To demand that just laws be obeyed is the very soul of civilization. How can this have been forgotten?

J

Most Ancient Days 6-8

Some decades ago I wrote a few books, now out of print of course, since, well, who the hell cares about anything I have to say. What a world. But I'm quite brilliant, and always right, and even though the world doesn't deserve me, it is incumbent upon saints to be selfless.

Why I see it was two years ago that I posted the first five chapters of Most Ancient Days, the second volume of my reconstruction of ancient history. The first looked at myth -- The Serpent in Babel. The third, Days of Brass and Iron, has not been written, and will not be in the foreseeable future, although the research is largely done.

I find that the old troubles in posting these chapters have largely dissolved. Simple cut and paste, and even the endnotes show up. Very easy. So I will be posting the rest of MAD. I know better by now than to expect the ungrateful public to remunerate my Herculean intellect in any meaningful way. You can't even send me a dollar, that you know you owe me. One measly dollar. Pathetic.

Some of the chapters are fascinating. Some of them are dull. Such is the nature of history -- lists of names matter, but are dull. Like the begats in the Bible. Important, but not fun reading. They are, in fact, a key to my chronology. But no matter. Point is, for completeness, and as a demonstration of robustness, details matter.

So, for now,

Chapter 6 -- Kings of the Nile: Egypt from Babel to Sodom

Chapter 7 -- Stones of Sumer: Jemdet Nasr and "Early Dynastic"

Chapter 8 -- Sands of Egypt: Dyanasty XIIa & IIa

Don't bother to thank me. I expect only silence.

J

Another Hero!

Back when I came back from serving in Vietnam during my military service as a lowly grunt as we military guys say, well do I remember the loneliness and solitude of my sad homecoming. It is with bitter coldness that I returned to my beloved native homeland of the United States of America, which I had heroically served as a military hero, having won as I did several Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts, and a Congressional Medal of Honor too. I well remember how Lyndon Baines Johnson consulted me about the proper course of action, and Kennedy did too, and Nixon. All of this was before I won the Pulitzer Prize for my hardhitting exposé of all that corruption that was going on, that I hate so much.

So now you should vote for me again, and elect me once more to this political office that I'm running for again. Because I will do exactly what you want, as a sign of my superb leadership. I will renew American greatness and take us to Mars, and slash the deficit so that there's lots of money for everyone. You can trust me in this because I'm a hero, like all the other heroes I served with. We're all heroes. Unlike some dude who was only in the reserves, and got deferments like a whitebread coward. How embarrassing it would be to have to admit that. Sure am glad that's not me. Nope. Heh.

Um, so that Times article about me, about how I've been lying for all these decades about my heroic service, how I didn't go to Viutnam at all, well, I may have misspoken a few times, but I will not have my noble selfless service impugned, I say in a tone of voice quavering slightly with righteous indignation, not at all shame for having been caught out by slimy lies. And like a real man I'm saying to these cameras that I take full responsibility for my absolutely unintentional remarks. But I'm a hero. No duh. Sheesh. I mean, sheesh. So, uh, vote for Blumenthal! That's how it's spelled, right? Blumenthal? Now where the hell is my driver? Get me the hell out of this stinking toilet. God I hate these losers. Just having to be around them, see their ugly faces. Drive, asshole.

J

Qbama

Qbama, because he has the highest IQ of any president ever. He is so smart. I just can't get over it. The way he leads the chanting against those stupid Repugnantuns. Man we hate them so much. They drove the economy into a DITCH! And they want the keys back. NO! Qbama is so presidential, the way he leads like that. We HOPED for CHANGE! We CHANGE our HOPE! No, I don't know what that means, but man it sounds so good. It's Qbamaworthy.

And Qbama will not TOLERATE all the blaming, from those executives and stuff. Man is that reassuring, to hear that the resident is against the big oil companies and stuff. It's good to know who the enemy is. Make them pay! All that money they have. Greedy basterds. I hate them too. Stealing all that money from us by selling us oil, who the hell do they think they are. We should fine them all and take their money and redistribute it fairly.

I'm reading a collection of Red Smith columns -- oldtime sports writer. There is no sport that I like. Even the sports that I like, I don't like. I like gymnastics, and boxing, and bjj. Don't watch it. Very moderately interesting. But I like to read good writing about boxing, and maybe a few other sports. So, Red Smith. Wrote from the 30s into the early 80s. A 70s piece talks about how he bucked the trend, and became more liberal as he aged. Then he used that gem of a word, the Establishment. Lord, what a time machine. Conservatives, you see, are for the Establishment, and liberals are for the little guy. He actually said it. I don't know if it was ever actually true. Leftism after all is nothing but Establishment. Point is, now, in this current epoch, so irretrievably removed from that far off age whence echoes Smith's voice, the Establishment, by which we must assume is meant Government, the Man, is the Darling of the Left.

The World Turned Upside Down.

Well. I'm sure I had a point. I've forgotten, engrosses as I just was, interrupted, having a conversation with a young fellow who asked me who the worst president ever was. Obama? No, Franklin Pierce. And I ended up in Vietnam, Urbanization and WHAM, and there was actually a bit of emotion on my part as I described the evacuation, retreat, betrayal, at the Saigon Embassy. April 30, 1975. Anniversary! Did you remember? -- the helicopters? Was there anything in the news? Parades? I didn't notice.

It has to do, then, with loyalty. Faithfulness. Being true to truth. Truth is reality. See? Not theory. Not fantasy. How do we know what's true? We know it from experience, from what has worked, what has been demonstrated to work, in the past. So all this hype about change leaves me cold. Intelligence without reference to reality is called insanity. You heard it here first.

And that's the end of the story. We all lived happily ever after.


J

My Wacky Day!

Well first I just popped awake, and that's not so common. Little did I know! And then I went and picked up some business cards, and they had a phone number on them that I did not want! Bummer.

Then I went and climbed onto a roof to fix a banner that was flapping around in the driving wind. I had to leap heroically onto an overhang, like ten feet below! Then I had to leap to the sidewalk far below! Totally parkour! But I had tossed a saw down first, and I FORGOT IT! And it's probably stolen away by now. Bummer.

Then I went to a thrift store on a whim, and bought a belt for $3.99, because most of my pants are unwearable now, because they have huge holes in the right knee, because that's always the knee I kneel on, because of an old injury from 35 years ago to my left knee -- anyway, most of the rest of my pants are too fat at the waist, for some reason, all baggy and loose and droopy. And when I went to pay the woman asked if I was a senior because it was senior discount day, and I said, "Well, I'm 50," and she said, "That's senior," and I said, "Really? That's the first time I've been a senior." And it was a 30% discount, so I paid $3.06, but I gave her $5.02 because I thought she said $3.02, and I said, "Oh, my hearing must be going." But I cut in line without realizing it to buy the belt.

Then I went to a healthfood store to buy a moonpie for a snack -- the soy or rice kind, that's so good for you, with no actual sugar. And I said to the woman, "Would you toss the receipt for me" -- because I don't like being handed trash -- and she said, "Sure." But then she tried to hand it to me anyway! And I said, "Why you...!" And she said, "Oops, force of habit." And I said, "Think nothing of it my good woman."

And then I got home and my garage was swarming with bees. I had built a bunch of wooden boxes and they stack on top of each other and have a hole in the side for lifting, and the bees had decided that they were going to build a hive inside my boxes! So I took a pole and knocked the boxes over so the bees would fly away. But they're still sort of buzzing around. And then just then my son said he had some friends who wanted to BUY three of my boxes, and he just drove away with them right now!

And that's just SO FAR. Can't wait to see what other crazy things are going to happen in this wacky day!

J

Chains! Hype!

Just thought I'd play that little word game. Git it? Like that Obama thing. Change!!! Hope!!! See? Clever, huh? But I am very clever.

So I was at a massage parlor, getting rubbed all over ... no, I mean I was at the healthfood store, and of course the bumpersticker read: "Hope" with Obama's Che picture, looking soulfully off to our right. His left. See? He appears to present himself to the thoughtless observer as being moderate. But peak behind the veil, and La!

So, chains. A dramatic overstatement of course. There are no actual chains. The reduction of liberty, in favor of the corporate interests of Socialism ... oh, are you confused by the usage of the word "corporate"? You must also then be confused by the general misuse of the term Fascism. Fascism -- a form of Socialism. And to be more precise, instead of "corporate" I should have said "syndicalist". No matter. Point is, Big Government is a relative term. Big compared to what? Sadly, us. Prager is pleased with his new motto, the bigger the government, the smaller the citizen. Yes. And how are we made smaller? We are allowed less, as a little child is not allowed to chose his bedtime.

When government is responsible for healthcare, it has the right to dictate lifestyle choices. Since it incurs the cost of lung cancer, it can limit smoking. Heart disease : diet and exercise. Ad infinitum. It used to be parents who were liable for their teens -- upside of which is that parents could make the rules. Up one metalevel, and it's us as the teens, and Nanny State in charge. (I reserve the term Uncle Sam as a benevolent label.)

As for Hype! -- no duh. When I saw the bumpersticker, I wondered if the owner -- if one can actually own a bumpersticker ... I mean, after all, can we really own anything -- I wondered if she -- I presume the feminine -- felt maybe that the "Hope" was perhaps a trifle outdated? And I asked, who would she blame? Who thwarted his grand promise? Who obstructs the Great New Age Change? Republicans, of course. Americans in general. Stupid, stupid Americans. Greatest force for evil in the herstory of The Planet. Because nothing, nothing could convince me that Obamessiah was not everything the MSM promised him to be. Was it not Prophesied? He's the freaking Twelfth Imam, for Christ sake. Jesus, don't you morons get that? God.

I'm still waiting for that dollar you promised me. My dog doo pickup business isn't doing so well in this economy, but my feet-soaking sideline is carrying me through this rough patch. And my parttime parking lot attendant gig is okay. Still trying to crack the celebrity-spokesmodel-for-something-French market. I want the dollar for some head shots. A portfolio. So?

J

The Facts as They Stand

WASHINGTON DC, May 5 (FP) -- Authorities are confident that they have captured the Times Square Bomber. Based on security camera images, all major media outlets have announced that the suspect was a "white male." Said MSNBC luminary Keith Olbermann, "Pictures don't lie. Clearly white and male. Maybe Jewish. Jews are white, right? And male, because what woman would dress like that?"

CNN's Anderson Cooper, citing reliable inside sources, reported that the perpetrator was "blond probably, no doubt Christian, a rightwing fundamentalist along the lines of Timothy McVeigh or Ted Kaczynski. There is no need to look outside this suspect pool. What, we should be racists? Stupid rightwing homophobes. Is this mike hot?"

Attorney General Eric Himpton Holder confirms that the suspect, identified as Faisal Shahzad of Connecticut, is "more than likely a Baptist lay preacher or some sort of snake handler. And definitely white. You can tell by the ear piece. Definitely a white thing. It makes them feel important. They're all bigots. Yeah, that's a joke. Right."

Pointing to the photo, Holder said, "You can just so see how white this guy is. So white. I mean look at that, the lower part of his face, but not the beard part. Very light. I don't mean light-skinned, like President Obama or even me, high yellow. I mean white. Honky white. The Man. But we have overcome. There's no stopping us now. Four hundred years of oppression and it's payback time motherfurker. You guys will edit this out later, right?"

Bill Maher, host of the wildly popular HBO talk show ... the name of which there is no need to repeat since it is so well-known, said, "These white males just love their bombs. Like George Bush does, because he has a little dick. And remember when Cheney shot that dude? His dick is so little. It's like this, the first knuckle of my pinkie. No, my pinkie toe. Yeah, that's what his dick is like I bet. All soft and hairless. I wonder if he's circumcised. I bet it bends to the right, with a twist though, like a licorice stick. And his nut sack hanging down like a bag of heirloom tomatoes, all pink and wrinkled, I can just see it. We should call him pinkie. Man. Makes me ... God."

Maher, although he never actually appears in public, instead presenting himself solely as a cleverly operated puppet,

is the voice of reason and responsibility, so that proves that Bush lied. And Olbermann is also very smart. Like Rosie O'Donnell. And Joyce Behar.

So that's all there is to say about that. Nine Eleven was an inside job. Steel does not melt. You sheeple are pitiful.

J

Article Three, Section Three

Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort. No Person shall be convicted of Treason unless on the Testimony of two Witnesses to the same overt Act, or on Confession in open Court. The Congress shall have power to declare the Punishment of Treason, but no Attainder of Treason shall work Corruption of Blood, or Forfeiture except during the Life of the Person attainted.

Treason is the only crime that is actually defined in the US Constitution. The charge is of course specific to citizens of the country. Aliens may be charged with espionage, sabotage, sedition, or similar crimes against the independence or survival of a nation. The Congressionally defined penalty for treason, consonant with the universal tradition of every nation, is, as with mutiny, death.

So in theory it is a good thing that the latest known Moslem terrorist bomber is a naturalized citizen. Not good that we are so weak and blind that we clutch the viper to our breast, but we embrace so many -- it is inevitable that certain worthless men, who forswear themselves in the name of their false god and evil cause, will worm their way into the felicity of our commonwealth.

It is a good thing, I say, not because it demonstrates our greatness of spirit -- better to be wise, I think, and prudent in the bestowing of so great a blessing -- but because Congress has set the penalty for his specific crime. Not the current congress, but one from days past, when treason was seen as a more serious thing. Death. The statutory penalty is death. So that's a good thing. Traitors should be killed.

Irony isn't anything like the correct word, although it comes to mind. The correct word is unfortunate. It is unfortunate that America is in so precipitous a decline that it elects weak and evil leaders, without resolve, without wisdom. Our just laws are not applied or enforced, while tyrannical laws spill out of administrative bodies like vomit from a drunkard. Environmental laws, about, uh, carbon, and secondhand smoke, and transfat and dietary salt. Laws about how we are to receive healthcare itself. This, they concern themselves with, while destroying the border, boycotting those who in desperation at last attempt effective self-preservation measures, and punishing those who a generation ago were literal heroes and patriots. Ah. Unfortunate isn't the right word either. Tragic.

Faisal Shahzad, the confessed traitor, a citizen, who is waging violent warfare against the people, government and society of the United States, attempting to commit mass and indiscriminate homicide against random citizens, should be executed. Because we are governed by evil and cowardly political operatives, this will not happen. Suffering under the misrule of incompetents, who, say, gleefully publish such cherished national secrets as the actual number of our nuclear warheads, formerly a top secret, the revealing of which would certainly have led to a charge of treason, with subsequent execution -- well, what human hope do we have?

We have elected a president who adheres to our Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort. Who will deliver us?

J

Not Against the Pro-Illegal Immigration Rally

This is the first thing I wrote here on the illegals. Four years and one week ago. Relevant now because of the fifty thousand who had a party in the streets of Los Angeles, yesterday. So very many American flags. It could fill the hearts of all the patriots with pride. How them people must looooove this country. Land of Opportunity. Stand beside her, and guide her. I mean, they swim across that Canal of the Americas, trying to get here. Sixty Minutes tells us about how many drown, doing it. Little girls, murdered by America. Shouldn't there be a bridge? A bikeway? Seems inhuman, the way we are, with our borders. Unamerican.

Too bad their own country is such a toilet. Too bad their own country has an armed southern border. Too bad America is so bad. I mean good. Well, bad and good. They just want our things, without us, cuz our stuff is good, but we're bad. Uh huh. Mm hmm. And in that spirit, of how bad I am, cuz I'm for borders and walls and discrimination between citizens and invaders, well, there's this, from all those years ago. How things have changed. Or not.

_____________

I’m not angry. Really. I’m not. Not angry. At all. Now, why don’t you believe me? Because I’m not angry. It’s not anger.

And I’m not racist. Really. I’m not. Not racist. At all. Now, why don’t you believe me? Because I’m not racist. It’s not racism.

Tonight, tens of thousands of, um, people are crowded about the Los Angeles City Hall, protesting pending legislation in Congress. The law would criminalize those who assist the, um, people who enter this country unlawfully. There are, apparently, at least some tens of thousands of, um, people who believe that it should be legal to assist law-breakers, and that it should be legal to enter this country illegally. And these ... people are protesting.

It is the right of every citizen of the United States to petition the government for redress of grievances. Surely a protest is a form of petition. And even if some number, large or not, of protesters are not citizens of the country they presently occupy, it is still entirely fitting that the free expression of opinion be allowed. That they hoot, and chant, and shout and disport themselves, and wave the flags of alien nations, and carry banners and signs that call racist those who would have the laws, of the country they currently occupy, obeyed – well, offensive speech (for so this would be categorized) is lawful. That they don't have the ... I won't say intelligence ... I won't say honesty ... that they don't have the clarity of expression to call it what it is - illegal immigration, well, perhaps there is a political purpose, in this inaccuracy. And political purpose, lawfully pursued, is the right of every citizen of the United States - and of our guests.

That they come to this country and are free to express their opinions, brings honor to us. We are glorified, when compared to, say, the countries from which they are fled - countries of economic oppression and rampant corruption - countries of poverty and backwardness - countries they don’t want to be in, as proven by their presence here. They have fled like Lot from Sodom, from the Third World to the First, and are comfortable enough here to loudly voice their political opinions, about what they think our laws should be. They have transformed themselves, with the crossing of a border, from peasants into participants in the greatest political enterprise ever undertaken by mankind.

All who cross our borders and lawfully petition for the right, may be citizens of this land. We are the envy of the world, and even our enemies would join us if they dared. We are not a race, not an ethnicity, not the children of some necessary heritage. We do not call ourselves, say, la raza - "the race" - imagine people who call themselves "the race" calling others "racist" ... but there is no need to imagine it. We, however, are not a race, and to say otherwise would diminish us. Our heritage is the birthright of everyone who would cherish liberty as we do - that balance of rights and duties. We come from every habitable continent, and we join together to build something that endures, to defend something that is worthy, and to make and enforce laws that are just and necessary. How beautiful and fine. How blessed we are, and how noble, to share our blessings. God has smiled on our shores, and we must be thankful for it.

Ingratitude is an ugly thing. Flouting our law is an ugly thing. Calling decent people racists is an ugly thing. How shameful, to call what is lovely by an ugly name. But not every people is a great people, and no race is great. Perhaps, if they stay long enough, they too will, each of them, individually, take on some of our greatness. Perhaps they will learn gratitude. Perhaps they will thank God for their blessings, rather than curse their hosts with curses.

So, no. I am not angry. I am proud. They make themselves small, by calling us names – but we are great enough to bear the insult. They reveal themselves to be hypocrites, by entering unlawfully but demanding the law’s full protection – but we begrudge the freedom of no man, and understand their burning ambition. They show themselves to be ingrates, by spitting on our laws and then exploiting our tolerance. But we are not who we are, that we might receive gratitude.

All who obey our laws are welcome. Come, and be a blessing to us, as we are to you. But obey our laws.


J

Zoom

The racists are planning on rioting again. May Day, or Cinco de Mayo -- what ever. Here we go again. Bait and switch, of course. The apparatchiks are getting their agitprop together -- eyes off the DiseaseCare system, now that they control it, and onto another, different attack on liberty. Yes, borders are indeed about liberty. The freedom for us to not be Mexico. Nothing wrong with Mexico, as Third World toilets go. All of my sisters-in-law are of Spanish-speaking background. Never about race. Always about culture. They, like you and I -- by which is meant our progenitors -- came here, to be American. Whereas, this latest wave bothers not even to learn the language. Seems ... unpatriotic.

But the Obamaniacs are really good at what they're good at. Chicago-style politics. Breathtaking in their cynicism. I learned long ago that I can't out-scum scum. So what do we do, with someone who will stop at nothing? The definition of "win" has to be revised. Especially with people who think that wars are not for winning. Yet politics must be won at all costs.

But I digress. Not that I'm quite sure what my point is, or will be. I think it must be the illegals, again. We had a little reprieve from the topic. Last time it was really in the news was 2006. I had thought that the clarity and force of my own writings here had resolved the matter, in America's favor. It seems I was wrong. They're back. Not that they left, but they shut the hell up for a while. Learned their place, at the back of the pickup truck, I'd thought.

Oh, racist? Well, it is true, apparently, that half, or a quarter, or whatever number, of illegals are not Mexican. Asian. That's nice. So only half, or 3 quarters, or whatever the crap number is that the media allows us to believe, are from beyond the pale immediately to our south. I'm not quite sure if they think this is a good thing for us to believe. I mean, it's not the particular origin of the illegals that's the issue. More of a rule-of-law thing. Laws, in some countries, like ours, matter. It's what makes us different than them. There is corruption everywhere. Some cultures tolerate it better than others. We don't tolerate it -- when we discover it, we attack it. Some cultures, as that to our left, benjamin in the Semitic tongues, institutionalize corruption. So, first, no wonder they want to come here, where our institutions are, humanly speaking, far less corrupt; and second, no wonder they feel entitled to invade -- they come from a corrupt place.

Racist? Yes, you are, if you think in those terms. For my part, I am, proudly, a culturalist. My culture, American, is vastly superior to every other. All things considered. Those Scandinavian countries, whence my ancestors, are ever so wonderful, as all of Europe must be, if you just want to get by, you know, hoping not to be invaded, and maybe some great but unnamed power will keep you safe, or rescue you. Now who might that be. No matter. Point is, American character -- not diet -- is like a hero in the book of Judges. A great cry comes unto the Lord, and a savior rises up. America.

So, yes, of course they line up on the border -- the starting line -- for their marathon run to freedom, also known as opportunity. How can we begrudge them that? Only because they cheat, is all. There they are, the law-abiders, queuing up in good order, paying their fees and getting their papers, and along come the line jumpers. And the outrage mounts, until, until we discover that it's the Mexicans who are jumping the line. Oh, it's Mexicans. Okay then, that's alright. Mexicans can jump to the head of the line -- skip it entirely then, and just come on in.

Anyone would do it. Almost anyone. If China were to the south, Chinese would do it. Pakistanis. Iranians. Anyone from an oppressive and/or corrupt culture. Norwegians? Well, yes, but they did it a hundred thirty years ago, the lawful wave of which I personally have benefited. Good for me. Good for you too, whatever your origin. Mind, I did not say race. Even blacks, kidnapped and enslaved, benefit, NOW, from that ancient crime. We know it's true, simply by looking at what Africa is now. Just outside the outermost circle of hell, as far as I can tell. But that's most of the world.

Jingo. Rah rah rah. USA! Yep. Thing of it is, I mean it. If humans are involved, it will be corrupt. Given. No need for the lefties to repeat that truism. Or, if they do recite the preamble to their constitution, that always starts with how bad, of all things, America is, well, wouldn't it be nice if their constitution were a living, breathing thing, that could be changed just by thinking about it differently, so that somehow the idea that the corrupting thing is not America, and not even power, but humans? Sadly, people are basically good. Which means something else must be at fault. America, of course.

Man, it's easy to write this way. Been quite a while since I've done it. Good, isn't it. I should do it more. You will notice that I've gone so fast that I haven't bothered to build on or follow through with any number of points, here. Think of it as a conversation starter. You can use my many brilliant ideas, and pretend they are your own. Just, uh, send me a dollar. I'll licence them to you. But don't forget the dollar.

J

Device

Do I go too far? There's definitely something wrong with my judgment. No argument there. But that's not a fault, is it? There was something wrong with Jesus' judgment too, according to those who judged him. Yes, I'm comparing myself, favorably, to Jesus. So?

My wife ... my former wife finally figured out, and she was not wrong, that I was obnoxious to people as a sort of test. Unconscious on my part, but I think she was right. And I'm pleased to affirm her, these several decades later. If people could bear my honesty, my raw and almost fierce pronouncements, true though they may have been, then said people passed the test, whatever it was. As I say, unconscious, and a protective device. I come from a place of madness, and survived as best I could.

So when I use such blunt and gauche words as appeared in that last opus, well, yes, there's definitely something wrong with my judgment. Those who know me, by now, at long last, after these fifteen hundred posts, have a chance of getting it. Those who drop by casually will form such opinions as they may. My concern, though, is with those who do know me, and still have to wonder. What the hell is the matter with Jack.

That's why I need friends. To point out when I go too far. I've spent almost all of my life without friends, so there's a deficit. Like a survivalist who recycles the same increasingly aberrant theories through his tractate, until he finally mails it, after the bombs, to the media. Publish or perish. We need sounding boards. Friends, to pull us up short, correct us, gentle or blunt, when we err. Like my son. He felt free to tell me when he thought I was wrong. "Dad, that was kind of rude." "Was it? Oh."

So I was thinking about friendship. It's a hard idea. It's a kind of love. What kind. I love you like a brother? I don't love my brothers. So that would be theoretical. I love you like a son? That love contains within it a sort of ownership. Yes, we let go of them -- but we don't. So what's left? The Greeks had four words for love. Eros, storge, agape and philos. Sexual, family, selfless and, uh, whatever philos loves. Philosophy, philanthropy, philadelphia, paraphilia ... is this it? A phorest of words, phor which we cannot see the trees.

It was a young boy's birthday today, and when I was told, it never occurred to me to do the usual verbal ritual. It only occurs to me later that people care about these things. But maybe no one noticed. Or maybe they understand how I am. It's not on purpose. It's unconscious. Because I come from a place of madness. You yourself have seen it, after all. To understand is to forgive. Right? It all just goes to make up the device, that I am.

J

Racist Epithets and Their Relative Merits

They're most useful in their casual disregard of human worth. The best are more dismissive than contemptuous. Contempt implies a person still matters. After dehumanization, it's about ugliness and hatred. Then thoughtlessness -- not the same as the aforementioned casual disregard. It boils down to overall effectiveness, us above them, me over you. How much rage can I engender, how provoking can I be, while of course remaining safe.

So, in no particular order, I like jiggaboo. The stupidity of the sound of the word imputes to the object. Comes from a Bantu word meaning servile. You can see how it came into usage. One slave mocking another, and the term is generalized. Lesson: don't be an enemy to your friends, because real enemies are listening. As for nigger, it's gigantic -- holds so much hatred. Amazing to me how the niggas use the word so casually. But then, that's how they treat their women too. Porchmonkey. Groid. Is there a zoid and a loid to go along with groid? Sambo is good, because it's ridiculous.

Slurs outside of our own culture don't really matter. Abo in Austrailia. I lived there for some years, and got the sense that abo was very vulgar, but it doesn't mean anything to me. Same with pom, someone from England. Apparently it's offensive. Wog is good, if obscure. Westernized Oriental Gentleman -- generally of South Asians. I seem to recall that it was the same guy who explained all these terms to me. He was a pom. Kaffir, South African for black, is a fighting word. We'd only care about it because of the emotion behind it. No one wants to be held in contempt.

Kraut, mick, frog, Polack, canuck -- not even about race. Might as well be Yank. Do nations even count, anymore? Dink and gook and chink and flip, limey and guido -- aren't these almost just historical terms, like fuzzy-wuzzy? Words from movies and childhood. Dago is good, and so is wop. But it's the neighborhoods we live in that make them matter. Kike is still good. Hymie seems a tad regional, a Jesse Jackson word. Christ-killer is cheap. Beaner is rude enough to still matter. Wetback is a little too geographic. Spick is good -- those sharp, one-syllable words carry a lot of weight.

Terms based on physical features are too obvious to be powerful. Sure, the kid with the difference gets made fun of. It's a sort of racism, but infantile. In a yard full of white chickens, the one with the spot will get pecked to death. Hey, blondie! I didn't even know bohunk was racial. There aren't any racist terms against whites that bother me. Honky? Gringo? Haole? Redneck? White trash? It's only the emotion behind it that matters. Ghostface seems rude, not because of the white but the pale -- pale is weak. Roundeyes seems too much like it's translated from some other language. Insults should be direct -- racist insults, that is.

I know a young fellow who was picking out a sticker to give to a small child. Hm, maybe this one, this cute little monkey? And five minutes later the mother, who had been sitting there, fuming, came up to him and said she was deeply offended by his racism, and he was lucky her husband wasn't there or there'd be a fight. She must think her race looks like monkeys.

Mongrel or mutt are racist to the core, but not against any particular race. Which gets to the point. That we're not all equal in our human worth. That one group is better than another because of something other than character and conduct. In this way, racism is a self-refuting concept. All racists are inferior.

Next time we'll discuss sexist terms. Starting with cunt.


J

Nox

Went to bed early but didn't sleep AT ALL. Somehow, this is your fault.

I think I may have decided to write another book. Nutrition. And maybe another one, on exercise, depending on just exactly how voluminous they get. Lord knows I have enough source material. So there's that. Should take a year. Maybe half a year. Three months. I wrote a book in a month, once. Had all the research done already, though, and that doesn't count revisions.

I think I'll approach it from a protein fat carb perspective. Deal with the Atkins thing, the vegetarian thing. The Fat Fallacy. It's very complicated, in terms of the evidence. The reality is pretty simple. Eat food. Industrial carbs are not food. Factory meat is not food. Trans fats are not food. What gets tricky is how much, of even good food, proportionally. That Zone thing. And the Protein Power slash Paleolithic Diet people. Eat lots and lots and lots of that really good-for-you meat. Approach it from a health v performance angle. There are trade-offs. But the whole field is so cluttered with emotion. One of my mottoes, Be sensible. Another is, Be rational.

We'll see. It's a major undertaking, even if I've been involved in it for over thirty years now. Does the world need another long and practically perfect book that no one reads by internet genius Jack H?

Someone asked me when I'd start my next family. Cuz I was such a fantastic father. I said I needed a wife for that. Then I decided that all I really wanted was a housekeeper, babysitter and sex partner. You know, so it's all about me. It would be hard to stop being so self-involved, after all these years. I do need a lot of alone-time. Women don't like that. But, if you know any, women I mean, feel free to, like, talk about me. I'm really very impressive. And I'm loyal. And as far as I can tell, I've outgrown the youthful need to dominate. Maybe I'm thinking of my father. Was it me who loved to use and invalidate women? I can't remember. I think it wasn't. No matter. It's all theory anyway. No one will ever love me again.

I should be starting bjj next week. For just a month. Mornings, I think, mostly. I train up to six times a week nowadays, 3 met con, 2 strength, one hard run. The strength workouts are more like once a week, due to time and energy restraints. I just don't think I'll be able to do strength and bjj, with the rest of it. Certainly not for more than a month. Sad to say, age is catching up to me. Not so anyone would notice it, but I do.

You see it in volume of work that can be maintained, and in recovery time. I look good. Don't know if I'm gaining weight, muscle, but I'm sore from a workout. I think my fabulous abs, my fabs, are getting even more dramatic. Hardly seems possible. Point is -- aside from how beautiful I am -- well, I think that was the point. Maybe it's that I don't really want to gain weight or look better. Yes, that's it. I just want to be better. So met con, and strength training, and interval runs -- 9 (1/5 miles) at 12.8 mph last night, with a 0.1 walk between at 3.3 mph. Next time 10 @ 13 mph. I am amazing. And bjj. Seems like too much, even for a superman like me. And I'm so smart too.

And handsome.

La dee da. Ho hum.


J