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Everything posted by KaBar

  1. KaBar


    I know a kid that got busted for tagbanging who got an indeterminate sentence in the Juvenile Detention Center. He's been in JDC for nine months (so far) at age 16. His real problem is that he was on probation for posession of marijuana. He didn't take probation seriously, and thought his juvenile hearing (read "trial") was a big joke. The judge said tagging while on probation is a VOP, and sent him to the West Dallas JDC lock-up. Getting busted is some serious ass shit. Don't think it's some joke. If you're lucky, you may get a wrist slap, but if the Judge is feeling crunk, you could get seriously hammered. Word to the wise: Don't violate the terms of probation--obey them to the letter. Number Two--never, Never, NEVER disrespect a Judge. Never.
  2. KaBar


    ThirdWorldShitholes.com http://www.urmia.org/docs/BBlightTravelUS.htm Read the truth.
  3. KaBar

    your parents

    My parents got divorced when I was 16 (1967.) My mother was a homemaker and an alcoholic who joined AA. After the divorce, she went to work and tried like hell to work two jobs and go back to college. She finally dropped out, but managed to stay sober. I stayed home as much as I could stand it, and helped take care of my three younger sisters. I ran away home the first time at 13, then at 16, finally made it completely on my own at age 19. Mom worked 14 years as a secretary for an oil tool company. My Dad was a commercial artist who always wanted to be a fine artist. He married my Mom during World War II. He was training to fly B-17 bombers when the war ended. He was married to my Mom 21 years, then fell in love with a young woman artist. She was an alcoholic too, like my mother, only younger and prettier. Dad divorced Mom, married this younger chick. What a mistake. She made his life hell on earth for ten years, until he divorced her too. He made a good living as a commercial artist, but made a lot of money when he retired, and he and his partner sold their business property. He moved up to a recreational community on a big lake and built a nice home. He lives there now, in his big house, alone and lonely. My Mom smoked cigarettes. She started during the War, in high school. All the girls thought smoking was cool and sexy. She smoked from 1942 until 1986. It damaged her lungs. She has emphysema and COPD. She had to get a valve replaced in her heart, about a month ago. She did not recover from the surgery. Now she is on a respirator machine. She has a tracheostomy. Her kidneys failed, they put her on kidney dialysis. She has respiratory failure. My Dad went to visit her, and cried. Don't be stupid. Love the people around you, and be loyal. Don't smoke cigarettes. This story makes me sad. If I could, I would just slip away some night and go ride freight trains for the rest of my life. But I can't do that, I have to go to work every day and I have to go visit my Mom. And I have to pay bills, zillions of bills. The parents write the check, but their kids have to cash it. Don't do this.
  4. Getting roasted on a spit because you won't give up your beliefs or your principles, that's martyrdom. Maybe getting drawn-and-quartered. Or at least burned at the stake. But getting killed throwing rocks at tanks or whatever just seems kind of dumb. The Palestinians throw rocks, the Israelis shoot back tear gas and rubber bullets, then tomorrow we do it all again. Dumb. I believe I'd immigrate to Jordan or Syria, and open an Internet coffee shop. Or maybe I'd move to New Jersey, get a job at a chemical plant, and bitch about Israel for thirty years, waiting for retirement. Or maybe I'd move to Texas and open a series of automotive repair shops called Mirage Collision Repair, with a picture of a camel on the sign. But I would most definately not remain in the West Bank throwing stones at armed Israeli Reserve troops. It doesn't pay the rent, so to speak.
  5. Even if he's detained, he still has a right to a lawyer, who can then file for habeus corpus. The problem is, he's not winning. And after he spends $20,000 defending himself, the Government can drop the whole thing (he was never tried or convicted, right?) wait a week or two and RE-ARREST HIM on the SAME CHARGE. This could go on for quite a while, I guess. What is it that this guy did that has the Government attorneys so pissed off? Whatever it is, he needs to stop doing it. I imagine I would, after a while anyway.
  6. KaBar


    Esai Guy, I don't know what to tell you. You want me to take responsibility for a war fought over 100 years ago? Sorry, man, I am not responsible for the fact that the Indians got fucked, not then, and not today. Big Mountain can be just as sacred as they come, but if the Native Americans want to own and control it, they'd better buy it from whomever holds the title. I guess the Federal Government could seize control of it and make it a National Park, but I don't think that's what the Native Americans have in mind. I'm a little puzzled as to whhat is is that you would have me do. Acknowledge that the Indians were erradicated during the Indian Wars? Yeah. They were. Since the Indians were just about the finest light horse cavalry in North America, they were damned hard to fight. But the U.S. Army commanders, being pragmatic men, just attacked them where they were vulnerable--in the villages---and slaughtered everybody in sight. Was it genocidal? Yeah, I guess so. Was it justified? I don't know. I've been through the Plains States a couple of times, and I'm really not too sure why they wanted them so bad. In any case, they did, and the Indians would have been wise to make a better assessment of how ruthless the U.S. Army was willing to be in order to win. There was a tribe of Indians down here in Texas called the Karankawas, they lived along the Gulf Coast. Sometime after the first Spanish explorers got to Texas, the Karankawas were wiped out, every last man, woman and child. I doubt any of them survived. So far as I'm aware, there are no Karankawas, or any of their descendants living anywhere on the Texas Gulf Coast. Most likely, this is the fate that awaited all the Native American peoples unless they surrendered. It seems like a wise choice to me, but then I'm not a Native American. And now we have strip malls and used car lots where once the buffalo roamed. Great trade, eh? I worked with a couple of Umatillas up in Washington State. Except for the fact that they had really long hair (like middle-of-the-back long) they were just like everybody else. Drank a beer after work, drove pick-up trucks. Wore cowboy boots and blue jeans and snap-button shirts from Sears'. They were both welders, like me. Both of them were former Marines. Semper Fi.
  7. KaBar


    Esai You have a right to your opinion. I disagree with your position. I have relatives (well, distant relatives) who were murdered by Indians for the crime of farming corn, raising chickens and living in a dugout house on the side of a hill in north Texas. So what? You don't see me going around blaming Native American people about it today. Great Uncle Whosis fucked up--he wasn't sufficiently bloodthirsty, and wound up getting murdered for thinking he could move into territory populated by hostile Indians without first making sure a system of force and violence was close enough to protect him in his vicious exploitation and luxurious, rapacious living there in the one-room, dirt roofed house. Somebody always loses in a war. Everytime somebody loses, they bitch and whine about how unfair it all is, and how the winners are monsters, etc. The United States is getting to the point now where there are very few nations that could take us in a straight-up fight. I'm sure we'll lose thousands to some terrorist bullshit. The whining and accusations and outraged sensibilities are all part of a "strategy of the powerless." North Vietnam did an EXCELLENT job of bringing the Vietnam War to a close politically. I consider myself very fortunate that the U.S. Government did not imprison all us war protesters, or worse. I was an immature idiot for protesting the Vietnam War, and upon retrospect, realize now that I was solidly duped by the Communists. Nobody's fault but my own. I had been warned repeatedly, but I didn't believe the people warning me, because I was 17 years old and knew everything. Anybody who hates the U.S. and despises the life we live here so much is free to live elsewhere. "Beautiful Africa" awaits you, along with malaria, tuberculosis and river blindness, not to mention good, old-fashioned genocidal tribal murders where hundreds of men, women and children are hacked to death with machetes, shovels and axes, or suffer deliberate amputations of hands, blindings, etc., etc. Last one of these I read about happened in Congo. I wouldn't go there. Why not try Nigeria? They have one of the longest-running civil wars going on the entire continent. You don't need to worry about getting shot there, though. The people have no right to own firearms, so the only people with guns are the Army, the police, and the tribal killers, oh, I mean "militias." (In the newspaper any group of armed murderers is now a "militia.") Or South America. How about Columbia? Oh, wait. Every time somebody goes down there to go fishing, they seem to get kidnapped. You don't want to be held for month for ransom for being such a priveleged, pampered Americano, do you? If you don't, then you must just be a Yanqui imperialist who doesn't understand the historical dialectic of kidnapping tourists and holding them for thousands of dollars ransom. And that's the police in Columbia, never mind the narco-guerrillas. Yes, the U.S. sucks. We are so awful, for wanting to just live a normal life. People all over the world are convinced that we are the cause of all their troubles, or at least many of them seem to be. Frankly, other than the fact that we own too many cars, I don't see that. The poorest, most uneducated kid in America wants to own a car. Rich folks own cars. Everybody owns cars. They all burn petroleum, and I'd be happier if we didn't have so many car owners. Of course, I'd still own one, if I could afford it. But nobody else, so I could drive around without all the traffic jams. That would be great, don't you think? I do. I'm free to not own a car, and in fact, there were periods of my life when I didn't own one, but not owning a car in a town like Houston SUUUUCKS. But I still could have done it, if I really wanted to. Could have ridden the bus. Bicycled. Whatever. The only problem is that public transportation sucks, even in a town with good public transport, like San Francisco, because of the other people riding it with you, who tend to act like jackasses for no particular reason. We live in a world of people who choose to not respect the rights of others. Everybody justifies it for themselves, but bitches when somebody else does it. The world seems to be filled with selfish, self-centered, "Me-Firsters." Life's a bitch, oh well. Either get some power, or be prepared to be shoved around by life. I learned this lesson in Marine Corps Boot Camp. I was still sort of thinking like a libertarian socialist when I went in. About the second day I came to the realization that I was "in for years," and I had a choice---either make rank quickly, or be on the receiving end for years. It was a very illuminating moment. I made sergeant in twenty-two months. The day I made corporal was the sweetest, though. I was now an NCO--no more details, no more scrubbing the shitters, no more picking up cigarette butts. You get a choice in life. "Do as thou wilt." The flip side of that is "Fuck with people at your own risk." Now I've got to go to work so I can be a big old exploiter of poor indigenous peoples all over the globe by driving my car. Maybe I'll take the bus. Nah.
  8. KaBar

    SYRIA: a primer

    U.S. won't invade Syria I don't think the U.S. will invade Syria. We're just jocking them to let them know we aren't going to tolerate a lot of fucking around. If anything, they'll talk shit in public to save face, then cut a deal with us under the table to pull the fangs on the terrorist groups operating against Israel. The U.S. needs a reliable Arab ally with whom we can negotiate. The Saudis have fucked us for the last time, I think. The Arab-American groups in the U.S. are striving hard to counter-balance the Jewish-American pro-Israel lobby. They are probably over in Syria trying to convince the Syrian government to stop being such a diplomatic problem, and be amenable to some peace negotiations. The biggest wild card in the Middle East, in my opinion, are the formerly Russian "Jews" that immigrated to Israel in the last days of the Soviet Union. I think that they may be a big constituency in Israel for reform and a loosening of the relatively rigid attitudes of most of the population. A good example: they want to be able to eat pork without any hassle. Pork is a mainstay in the Russian diet, and the Russian Jews are as adamant about eating pork as they are about drinking vodka to excess. Won't endear them to the Muslims, though. The Russian Jewish immigrant comunity in Israel sticks out as being "European" in a big way, and annoy the shit out of the Orthodox Jews. (I know, I know, most of Russia is in Asia.)
  9. Or are we talking "Informers" here? As in active-service volunteers from the Irish Republican Army kneecap you because you told the Paras where the jelly and the SKS's were buried?
  10. KaBar


    We are lucky to be at the top of the pile Millions and millions of people live on less than a dollar a day. They are feeding and housing entire families for less money than 15-year-olds in America spend on CD's in a week or two. How can one not be grateful? You lucked out---raise your eyes to Whatever Gods May Be and say "Thank you." I know it's terribly unpopular to say so, but I'm not buying the argument about how the West was won. It was a war, we won it, fair and square. The Indians lost, and now they are part of the wealthiest, most powerful nation on earth. Look at all the indigenous, spiritual, Native American things they occupy their time with---like running casinos. I'm not complaining, they have a right to do so, and more power to them, but spare me the Wounded Knee arguments. They can powwow, they can go to college, they can go out to the Rez and live in Government-supplied housing, they can join the Marines and become warriors for real, whatever. God bless 'em---FREE TO CHOOSE, just like everybody else. Same goes for the Southwest. We had a war with Mexico, who claimed this land from the Spanish, who got it from the Mayas and Incas and so on, by the sword. The Indios killed one another for it, and maintained one of the most horrific, blood-thirsty cultures to ever exist upon the face of the earth, so I guess if the supporters of the Atzlan mythology want to claim the Southwest, all I can say is "Come get some." Yeah, the reason that millions of illegal aliens pour across our southern border every year is because life is so oppressive here, and whities hate Latinos so much. Bullshit. We live in the Land of Milk and Honey, and the Mexicanos want some too. LOS ANGELES is the second largest MEXICAN city in the world (that is, a city made up of MEXICAN CITIZENS), second only to Mexico City itself. I don't see any of those guys eager to go back home. If they wanted to live in Mexico, they would fucking live in Mexico. They don't. They want to live in the United States, in American culture, under American law, in an American economy. Good for them. If Mexico had less corruption, a Bill of Rights, and the Right to Keep and Bear Arms, millions more Americans would be living there now than live there at present. Quite frankly, I don't care to live in a nation that doesn't trust it's people with firearms. Hell, the Republic of Mexico doesn't even trust the people with CB RADIOS for God's sake. Fuck that. Any nation that fucked up deserves what they get. If the people had any guts, they would seize control of the Government and demand a genuine, democratic, Constitutional republic, instead of the oligarchy that exists today, but unfortunately, the opposition in Mexico is poisoned with the something-for-nothing philosophy of socialism. I suspect that they will be at least another fifty or a hundred years in developing a middle class with any power. But I digress. None of us have any obligation to become educated and economically independent. If you prefer to flip burgers all your life, or run a head shop, or a voodoo candle and herbs shop, or sell used bicycles off the top of a van, you are 100% at liberty to do so. (Each one of these businesses or occupations is one in which I have an acquaintence so employed.) Keep in mind, though, that thousands and thousands of immigrants arrive here every year who have absolutely no regard for socialism whatsoever. They go to work to own their own businesses with a single-minded energy that is astonishing. The second generation goes straight to college. And the third are almost all top-performing students at top-notch universities. The future leadership of America will probably come from the ranks of these people. The present leadership may be mostly white, mostly Protestant and mostly from Ivy League universities like Harvard, Yale and so on, but the future is Latino and Asian. Take my word, they will be every bit as success-oriented as the present crop. Eventually, there will be "a black President", a woman President, an Asian President. When these positions are attained, they will not be filled with the likes of a Jesse Jackson or a Diane Feinstein. They will be filled with people like Condoleeza Rice--the best of the best, regardless of background. Racism is passe'. We live in a meritocracy, or pretty close to one. Work hard--or don't. Your choice. If you choose to kick it, I got no problem with that. But don't bitch about unfair life is. Each of us is living the fantasy life of much of the world's population. If they could get here, they'd do it. Be glad you're where you're at.
  11. I'll bet your boy looks a lot more committed and compassionate after you've read all this bullshit, eh? There's a very good reason boys and immature young men act like this ^^^ it's so women and girls won't mistake them for potential husband/father/Daddy material. Sort of a reverse protective coloration thing. Acting like a jackass is a good indication that said young male adult is not ready to assume the responsibilities of being a grown-up man. The problem is that if a woman is filled with low self esteem and self-doubt, she may be unconciously seeking a male partner who has very low expectations of women, himself. So, if you've got a coupling between a immature, self-centered, superficial adolescent (regardless of age) and a low-self esteem, if-somebody-would-only-love-me girl, they have the perfect non-relationship. She doesn't care who it is, as long as he says he loves her, and he doesn't give a shit about her as long as he gets some pussy. This isn't really a problem unless the girl gets pregnant. If she gets pregnant, now you have an innocent baby born to these two idiots, neither one of which is a qualified adult. Usually, at the first sign that somebody else's needs ought to come before his own, home boy is down the road. "Fuck this, changing diapers and working every day is for chumps. I'm no Daddy---I'm a playa." Good riddance. One less problem for the kid as he grows up. But Mom, she's a problem. Lot's of times she dumps the baby into Grandmom's lap and goes back to being a playgirl, looking for that love she needed from her own Daddy, but never got and never will get. She winds up being a mark for every sorry-ass predator in the neighborhood. And the kid gets shortchanged at both ends--a Mom with no self respect, and a Daddy with no self discipline or sense of responsibility. My advice---keep your legs crossed until you see some evidence that the guys you are attracted to are interested in being a responsible, family-centered, intelligent adult. Until then, if you sleep with him, you are playing Russian roulette with your future and your yet-to-be-born children's futures. "Date men, not boys." And more importantly, focus on your own future, independent of any relationship with men whatsoever. Go to college, get a degree, make a life of your own, start looking to your future. You need education a hell of a lot more than you need a boyfriend. Or not. Your choice.
  12. KaBar


    "Apathy is a bad thing, and so is a lack of options." I could not agree more, but you cannot force people to stop getting drunk and high and pay attention to the world around them. Most people are content to sleepwalk through life--this is why the Constitutionalists refer to the mass majority of citizens as "sheeple." (When they hear people make stupid, anti-Constitution statements the Constitutionalists start making that "baaaaa baaaa" sheep sound.) It's a lot of work to take care of oneself. Most people would be more than happy to let the Government tell them what to do. The laws are the way they are because THE PEOPLE elect representatives who think that these sorts of laws are what people want. I think people should be completely left alone to take care of themselves. No welfare, no SSI, no SSDI. Definately no AFDC. Make your own decisions, and deal with the consequences.
  13. KaBar


    Poor Syntax I never thought, when I wrote that sentence, that anyone would interpret what I wrote as "No cultural history. Or memory of democracy." What I mean was NO CULTURAL HISTORY OF DEMOCRACY, and NO MEMORY OF DEMOCRACY. It's difficult to teach people who have lived all their lives in a culture in which social life is a zero sum game between several tribes, and the government of the country is poisoned with hatred and corruption and torture. You American 12 ouncers have lived all your lives in the wealthiest democratic Constitutional republic on earth. If cable goes out for a few hours it's a big crisis. I have several teenaged acquaintances who described their lives and existance to me as "oppressed." These guys all own cars, have the Internet and two of three have a color TV with cable in their bedroom. That is NOT OPPRESSION, guys. They live a life of such unbelieveable privelege and wealth that they think that walking to school is a serious punishment. Americans don't vote for a variety of reasons. Mostly, I think it's because life here is so safe, so predictable and so comfortable that none of us can really imagine it being any other way. I think plenty of people don't vote because they are self-centered, lazy bitches. They try to get out of jury duty for the same reason. They are lazy, selfish pussies. I believe that the system under which we live was originally designed to provide maximum control over government and maximum freedom for individuals. There was no standing army AT ALL, originally. The Continental Army was raised from volunteers from the colonial militias, and paid for by voluntary contributions from colonial governments in rebellion, which rather quickly became known as "States." Each state was like a country unto itself, and except as provided for in the Articles of Confederation, independent. These states all had very strong traditions of a strong, independent jury system, in which each citizen accused of a crime was tried BY A JURY OF HIS PEERS. Judges were appointed by the Colonial Governor, but juries were selected from the population from the tax rolls. This system was carried over into the post-Revolution period, and in a rather perverted form, even down to today. Judges were never supposed to be anything but a referee in the courtroom, and in times past (before 1898) before the jury retired to it's deliberations, the judges read what was called a "jury charge," in which the Judge was required to tell the jury that they were sitting in judgement of BOTH THE LAW AND THE FACTS OF THE CASE. In other words, if the law was bullshit, A JURY could refuse to convict the defendant, and could sit in judgement of the law itself. In 1898, this was changed, to empower judges over the jury, and today, the perverted "jury charge" is to tell the jury EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE, that they cannot make a determination in the case on anything but the information presented in the courtroom by the respective attorneys, which of course, is completely controlled by the JUDGE. This is a very unfair and un-American change, and turns juries into a rubber stamp for the judge. Today, if the jury wishes to return a verdict not in accordance with the judge's wishes, it's called jury nullification. This is considered a bad thing, and judges refer to juries like this as "renegade" juries, as if the Judge is supposed to control the outcome of a trial. Bullshit! THE JURY OWNS THE COURTROOM, NOT THE JUDGE. Somehow, the word "militia" has come to be regarded as a negative thing, like a quasi-terrorist group. Again, a perversion of original intent has occurred. The militia is not ten guys out in somebody's pasture. When one says "militia" it should conjure up the same image as the word "electorate." The law states it CLEARLY. The militia consists of EVERY ABLE-BODIED MAN BETWEEN ages 17 and 45, with a few exceptions (the Vice President, clergymen, essential workers at arsenals and shipyards, etc.) ALL OTHER ABLE-BODIED MEN, REGARDLESS OF RACE, CREED OR COLOR ARE IN THE MILITIA. Over 17? Able-bodied? Male? Welcome to the service of your country, citizen. And if you are not presently a citizen, but you "have made declaration to so become" you are in the militia. You don't get a choice, every man will serve. THIS was the original intent, not an "all-volunteer Army" of professionals. Not a "select militia" like the Army National Guard, or the Marine Reserves. EVERY SINGLE ABLE-BODIED MAN. The Second Amendment says a "well-regulated" militia. That means "WELL-TRAINED" in the language of 1789. The idea was that nobody could oppress a nation of riflemen for long. It was true then, and it's still true today. The last leg of this stool is the idea of "one man, one vote." This one was clearly imperfect, even years later. The Founding Fathers considered the word "democracy" the same way that later generations viewed the word "communism" or "socialism." They worried that the uneducated, unlettered masses would screw up the country by voting themselves universal pensions at the government's expense, and surrender power to demagogues. As the country matured, the right to vote went from landowners (nobody paid ONE CENT in taxes except landowners, originally---whatever you managed to earn, you kept) to all white men, then to all men, then to both men and women. Today, anyone 18 years old may vote. I think it should be 17. If you are old enough to carry a rifle in the militia, you should be old enough to vote. The "ultra-conservatives" call these ideas the "Three Boxes of Freedom." The jury box, the cartridge box and the ballot box. It's a simple idea, and if correctly put into action, by earnest people of good will, would work perfectly, both here and in benighted Third World sewers like Iraq. Enter the lawyers and shysters. Leave it up to lawyers to fuck up a good thing. One of the most destructive "reforms" to happen is the American political arena was a change in the way U.S. Senators are elected. Originally, U.S. Senators were elected not by the people of a senatorial district, but BY THE STATE LEGISLATURE. In other words, they were representatives OF THE STATE LEGISLATURE sent to Congress to represent the State. If they pissed off the state legislators, the State Legislature had the right to impeach them, elect another Senator, and sent him (or her) to Congress. The Senators were on a leash that led back to the STATE. Today, Senators (as well as U.S. Representatives, known as "Congressmen") are ELECTED AT LARGE BY THE VOTERS IN A SENATORIAL DISTRICT. This was supposed to be a "reform." In actual fact, it took the leash off Senators and Representatives. Once they get elected, their sole purpose is to get RE-elected and to maintain their positions of power and privelege. They are accountable to nobody. They think of themselves as little kings. And as long as the voters can be fooled, they do as they please. They are NOT ACCOUNTABLE to the State Legislators any longer. The State Legislature is almost redundant now. This is a very bad thing, and is one thing that has led to the CENTRALIZATION of the Federal Government. You think Washington D.C. is run by assholes who don't answer to the people? This is why. This change took the local leash off of Congress.
  14. KaBar


    I view the world exactly as I have found it to be. I started off with one set of ideas and beliefs and wound up with a totally different set. That's me. You guys must come to your own conclusions. I think my silly analogy of Iraq and the Brothers Speed mud check is an amusing one. The Iraqis might very well be able to found a democratic country without our help, and quite honestly, if I thought there was a hope of that actually occurring, I'd be all for us packing up all our shit and going home. But in real life, all the little terrorist fascists would pop out of the woodwork and start assassinating pro-democracy candidates (they might anyway) and trying to impose their own will on the Iraqi people. It would just be "Saddam II" and we'd have to come back and do it all over again. Just like with Nazi Germany, there will probably be a few formerly Baath Party police chiefs and judges, etc., that get back into power, but with a moderate, pro-democracy government into power, it will be difficult to re-establish the Torture and Murder Inc. set-up that Saddam had going. If the judges are elected, and the Iraqi constitution institutes a TRUE jury system and Grand Jury system, with universal suffrage and Jury Duty, and elected judges, it is unlikely (so long as the people remain armed and the police limit themselves to enforcing laws enacted by democratically-elected representatives of the people) that fascism can become re-established. Iraq has a good chance of actually achieving a Constitutional republic with a democratic form of government. The biggest problem is that the people have no cultural history or memory of true democracy. Here in the United States, we inculcate every 1st grader with the ideology of one-citizen-one vote, democratic principles, socialization, etc. It would be impossible to create a fascist dictatorship here. The seeds of democratic government are safely within every kid. If some disaster destroyed our entire government, and it was suddenly the responsibility of a class of high school kids to re-establish civil authority, I think we would have free, fair elections and democratically-elected representatives in short order. "Okay, kids, it's snack time! Who wants sugar cookies? Raise your hand. One- two-three-four...eleven! Okay. Who wants chocolate chips? One-two-three-four...fourteen! Very GOOD, you voted very well. Chocolate chips it is, everybody stay at your desk and Susie will bring you your cookies." When I was in high school, every high school had a student government and an ROTC unit, as well as the usual football jocks-and-elected-cheerleaders deal. Voting is how Americans are taught to make decisions. Democracy is not superficial in the U.S., it is part of the cultural fabric of our country. This is not true (yet) in Iraq.
  15. KaBar


    All the thugs are scared shitless And with good reason. After bitch slapping the government of Iraq, next in line is Syria, then maybe North Korea. You guys ever heard of a mud check? Once when I lived in Washington State, I was in a bar with a bunch of bros, and a bunch of guys from the Undertakers MC. The Undertakers are what is called a "town club." They lived out in the sticks (Pasco, Washington) and they were too far away from anywhere for the bigger clubs (like the Bandidos) to bother with them. Anyway, the guys I rode with had some sense and didn't fuck with people. The Undertakers, on the other hand, made it a lifestyle. We were in this bar and there were about ten or fifteen of my guys, about twenty Undertakers and some citizens. A couple of guys from a club in Idaho, Brothers Speed MC, rode up and dismounted and went inside. They'd been there about fifteen minutes or so when some asshole from the Undertakers starts insulting them and talking shit. Since they had them outnumbered about ten-to-one, the Undertakers were sort of going along with this bullying shit. After a little while, it was clear that there was going to be some shit. I started looking for the door. All the sudden, one of the Brothers Speed grabs this loudmouth from the Undertakers by the jacket (actually, his colors), whips out a .357 and sticks it under his chin. "You want some shit?" he yells, "Okay, you got it, motherfucker!" "Hey," says the UMC guy, "take it easy." "Fuck you," says the BSMC guy. "MUD CHECK. Let's see if you got it. Take off those fucking colors or I blow your face off, bitch." You could have heard a pin drop. "I'm counting to five. One. Two. Three. Four." He cocks the pistol. "No, wait a minute." "Are you a fucking pussy? Yes or no?" "Y-yes." "Take 'em off." The UMC guy takes off his colors and drops them on the floor. "Get out, coward." He immediately grabs another UMC guy. "Anybody tries to leave, I start shooting." "Are you a pussy? Yes, or no?" "Yes." "Take 'em off and get out." He went through seven guys before somebody finally said "no." "NO?" "No, I'm no pussy. If you're going to shoot me, GO AHEAD, you dicksucking bastard." "You stand over there, tough guy." The second Brothers Speed patchholder was guarding the brave with a cocked pistol. Eventually, he had it down to eight guys who refused. "YOU MOTHERFUCKERS--we came in here to just get a beer. And you mother fuckers let a bunch of SORRY ASS PUSSIES wearing YOUR COLORS try to bully us and start shit. We ought to kill you all, but we aren't going to. If we ever hear of a single Brothers Speed rider having any trouble in this town again, we are going to come down here and kick your ass bigtime. If you EVER let a chickenshit coward like those guys put on your colors again, you are out of business." The Undertakers, embarrassed and humiliated, all said "yes." The Brothers Speed guys made them take the colors outside and burn them. Then they fired up and rode out. A few years later, the Bandidos told the Undertakers "Take 'em off, or get smoked." The Undertakers disbanded, or so I heard. Today, a Bandidos affilliate, the Amigos MC, rides in Pasco. That's a "mud check." Do you have the nuts? Or not?
  16. Venice Beach Everybody loves Venice. It's sort of the epitome of the California lifestyle. They always have shots of peoplew rollerskating on Venice Boardwalk in movies about "hip" California. HOWEVER---some of you guys that have been reading my stuff for a while may remember a story I told about a young teenager who was hanging out with us in the early '70s who got invited up to a guy's apartment and the guy pulled a knife, locked the door and butt fucked the kid all day before letting him go. No doubt, this story could happen in Topeka or Chicago just as easily as Venice, but be aware---California can be pretty fucking brutal. (I won't tell the part about my Communist friends wanting to borrow my Browning Hi-Power 9mm to whack the guy, and me refusing and taking off with my girlfriend. It was a major argument between me and them. It seems pussy now, but my argument back then was "It's his own fault if he got raped, he should have never gone up to the guy's apartment to start with, and now you want to use MY pistol to whack the guy? Get fucked. I'm not going to prison for life for this stupid kid. If the cops pick him up he won't be able to keep his mouth shut for ten seconds---he's a puss." Flawed logic, I admit. I also had a problem with the vigilante aspect. We only had the kid's word that it was rape. How could we be sure he didn't actually want the guy to fuck him, but afterwards, he said it was homosexual rape? He might have been trying to come out, but wasn't prepared for the fucking he got. Whatever. It wasn't my beef, and I definately had no intention of getting involved in a pre-meditated murder. FUCK that. I knew another guy from Venice (briefly) who was flying colors for the Vagos MC. (Ever see the movie "Mask," with Cher and Eric Stoltz and Sam Elliott, the absolutely best portrayal of a biker to ever be put on film? The name of the motorcycle club in the movie was the "Turks", because the real club, the Vagos MC, wanted too much money to allow Bogdonovich to use their (copywrited) colors.) He told me a story about a gang hit in which the Vagos caught another club during a meeting in a garage, and killed them all in a big shoot out. He was one crazy sonofabitch, but very believeable. I never met anybody with so many horrifying scars or tattoos. The guy had like 80 tattoos, and was disfigured from going through a car windshield in a wreck. The sugarcoated portrayal of the Vagos MC in "Mask" is bullshit. They are mean as a snake, but I like that movie, especially the character "Bulldozer." Reminds me of one of my old club brothers named Little John. He weighed about 300 pounds.
  17. What is it about this site that makes me want to come back here time after time? It's like a bad relationship with a beautiful woman--she pisses you off, but you can't turn it down.
  18. Hitching Today is pretty hazardous It's been a long, long time since I hitched anywhere, but it's pretty wierd. I really don't recommend it these days. Back during the '60s there were thousands of hitchhikers. Today, it's not really like that. The Third summer I went out to Encinitas was the summer of 1969. I did run into Lynn's sister at the beach at Swami's, but Lynn was attending college up in Washington. I had brought my girlfriend with me from Texas, anyway. The three of us hitched up to San Francisco ("The City," like there was only one real city) and crashed with some of her friends. We wound up getting really plastered at a party at somebody's house. Then the people came home and freaked out at all the strangers ("Who ARE all you people? GET OUT OF MY APARTMENT!") and wound up sleeping on the floor at somebody's pad, somebody we barely knew and met at the party. The next day we got up (I was major hung over) and walked down to a cafe on Stanyan Street, on the eastern border of Golden Gate Park. We ordered breakfast, and while we were sitting there, I looked up and my high-school rival for my girl's affections was sitting across from us, drinking coffee and looking at us. He had hitch-hiked out from Texas and had only been in town since daybreak. He found us in San Francisco within three or four hours of his arrival, totally by accident. As much as I wanted him to beat it, she wanted him to stay (she was pissed because I got drunk at the party.) So we wound up playing that same old high-school rivalry game out, only we were in the West. We hitched all over the place--Yosemite National Park, up and down the coast, we hitched a ride with a newlywed couple and their best man to Grand Teton National Park, and Jackson Hole, Wyoming, in their van. We walked and hitched on the Nacimiento Road from Pacific Coast Highway in Pfieffer Big Sur over the Coast Range to the town of Jolon out in the desert. Finally, when he and I were about ready to kill one another, she suddenly announced she wanted to go back to Houston. The two of us (he and I) kicked in an equal amount and bought her an airplane ticket back to Houston. After her plane took off, he and I parted without a word, and went opposite directions. We were best friends, surf buddies, former fellow Boy Scouts, former adventuring pals, fighting over the same woman. I hitched up to L.A. and found myself on an eastbound on-ramp. A Checker cab pulled up and stopped. I went to the window and said, "Sorry, man, I don't have any money." And he said, "Well, that's okay, because this cab isn't licensed in this state. Get in." His Dad owned a cab company in Buffalo, New York and loaned him a cab in which to drive all over creation for the summer. We went to University of California and stayed at a frat house paying the summer rate of $3 a day per person. They threw a Red Mountain party, and I almost fell off a two-story roof onto a concrete patio, drunk as a skunk. I still love red wine. I drink Carlo Rossi Paisano. We went to Denver, CO, then Boulder. I liked Boulder a lot. We camped for a week or so up on Arapaho Canyon. Finally, I hitched back to Texas, and my girlfriend and I got an apartment together, but it didn't last. My friends from high-school were all headed to University of Texas at Austin that fall. I should have gone too, but I was trying to be a war protestor and a pacifist, and had to go to work at a rehabilitation hospital for two years as my "Alternative Service" from being a conscientious objector. I felt kind of abandoned. She told me she loved me, but faced with a choice of staying in Houston and being with me and going up to UT, she wisely chose college. While they were all up there, my best friend and my girl got married. I fell in love with a beautiful blonde daughter of a Rice University professor. But that's another story.
  19. Damn Vandal Try www.gandydancer.com. Go to "Other Producers from Pentrex" It's actual title is National Geographic's "Love Those Trains." It also has some brief shots of Steamtrain and other tramps a few years ago at Britt. Trust me, this video is for sale at this site SOMEWHERE. It costs like $29.95 though. I received it as a gift. Gandy Dancer sells about 500 train videos, or something like that.
  20. Checkmate. Where'd ya get those cool jackboots?
  21. KaBar

    Lauren Bush

    Three letters: Effa-Bee-Eye. More problems than you can imagine in your young life. Pass.
  22. Actually, I talked to her on the phone when I got back (she was worried about me, did I get back okay, etc.) and she was pretty cool. She asked me "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come back up here and stay with me?" but the trip back would have been too obvious (we weren't supposed to be romancin', you see) so I didn't go. She said she was coming back to Encinitas soon, but she didn't show up before I had to go home to Texas.
  23. West Coast Hitching c. 1968 The first year I went out to California to surf during the summer was 1967. I went with some older friends of mine from school who were 18, and preparing to go into military service. We drove a 1961 Chevy panel van out there. Bart, my buddy, convinced them to let me go too. I was sixteen. I thought I was all grown up, of course, but it still freaked me out a little. We settled in Encinitas, and lived with a family up on Neptune Blvd. on the Bluffs, right near Stone Steps (an excellent, but little known break.) We got along very well with the family, the Mom liked us, and there were three sisters. Mom made us promise "no hanky panky" and let us live in the basement. We kept the lawn cut and edged to pay our way. The following summer, I came back, with a different group of guys my own age, in a VW camper van. Again, same deal, but this year I had a certain amount of problems with my friends and we bickered a lot. The oldest of the three sisters, Lynn, was 21 and had fallen in love with my buddy from the previous summer, Graham. Graham was in the Navy, and stationed at Whidbey Island Naval Air Station in Washington State. She wanted to drive up and see him, but her mom said "No way." Finally, she convinced her mom to let her go, if I went along. Mom saw me as a harmless 17-year-old, almost like a little kid. We took Lynn's VW bug (complete with hippie flower-power stickers) and drove up there. Just the drive up was pretty cool. I started sort of falling in love (or lust) with Lynn. She was very, very attractive--California surfer girl with long brown hair and beautiful brown eyes. I was smitten. When we got up there, Graham sort of brushed her off. He had met some local girl and was all involved with her. Lynn was heartbroken. On the way back to Seattle, we camped on the beach. It was cold, we wound up sleeping together. She owned me. Good thing she wasn't some cult member, I would have gladly carried out murderous plots just to be with her. When we got to Seattle, where her Dad lived, she told me no more sleeping together, not even a quickie when Dad was at work. Being 17, I was an idiot and got angry and stormed out of the house, headed back to California. I made a sign that said "CA" on one side and "Encinitas" on the other, and started hitching. I didn't have anything but a sleeping bag. No food, very little money, no water, nothing. One of my first rides was down to Eugene, OR, with some wild hippy guy and his 13-year-old girlfriend. They picked me up in a restaurant. Once we got rolling, they broke out the pipe, and we got stoned. I was sitting on a big piece of foam rubber on top of some kind of box in the back of the panel truck, and they were in the front seats. After a while, I noticed the big box had dirt on it. (Imagine a Cheech and Chong conversation.) "Wow, man, what's the dirt on this big fuckin', you know,..box?" "It ain't nothin', man, just karma." "Karma?" "Yeah, like oneness with the universe. You know." "Oneness? With the fucking universe?" "Right." "What about the dirt?" "Well, it was on there when I got it." "The box?" "Right. Or maybe the Oneness. Hell, yeah." "Where'd you get it?" "The Oneness?" "No, the box." "At the cemetary, dude, where else?" I was totally freaking out. I pulled up the foam rubber, and sure as shit, it was a coffin with the dirt still on it. "Man. This is too crazy." "You're tellin' me, man. Want another joint?" It turned out that the coffin was empty (I didn't check) and he was hauling it to a commune outside Eugene to use as a bed. The whole trip, the girl kept asking me "Hey, man, do you wanna ball? "My ol' man don't care. Do you, honey?" "Nah, fuck it, I don't care." "Do you?" "Do I care?" "No, do you want to ball?" "Shit, I don't know, girl. It's too wierd." "You don't care do you honey?" "Nah, fuck it, I don't care. No kissing though." "Ok. No kissing. Do you?" "Kiss?" "NO, man, do you want to ball." "How old are you?" "I told you, thirteen. Almost fourteen." They finally dropped me off at the SDS house in Eugene, and I slept on the floor. In the kitchen, SDS "revolutionaries" were running a mimeograph machine all night, cranking out leaflets for an anti-war protest march. Mimeos are very noisy, ka-WUMP, ka-WUMP, ka-WUMP all night long. It was a very wierd trip. I kept meeting crazy ass people on drugs. When I got back to Encinitas, my friends had just gotten back from Mexico with a pound of weed taped inside the insulation of the icebox in the camper. Most of that summer I am only barely able to remember.
  24. OLD, Old School Skateboarding As in 1963. The Beach Boys were rocking the airwaves, stereos were "hi-fi," hot rods ruled the streets, surfboards were ten feet long and weighed like forty-five or fifty pounds, and the coolest kind of shoes were Ked's deck shoes or gum sole "desert" boots. We wore Birdwell Beach Britches (universally known as "baggies") to surf in, and longer, sun-bleached hair, Wayfarer sunglasses ("Hollywoods") and T-shirts from name-brand surfboard shops (preferably in California or Hawaii) were de rigeur. My very first skateboard (true story) was a 2x4 with a clamp-on shoe skate with steel wheels nailed underneath each end. We called the "suicide specials." You couldn't turn, stop, or anything else--just "RIDE", and real fast too. My first commercially made skateboard was a Hobie. The local surf shop carried Hobie surfboards, and in 1963, they came out with a signature line of laminated pine-and-redwood skateboards with adjustable trucks and "composition" wheels. A hard skater could go through a set of wheels in a weekend. They were designed originally for traction on hardwood skating rinks. Concrete ate 'em up in no time. By the time we hit ninth grade, almost all my friends were in the West Beach Surf Club (contemptuously known by the cooler surf clubs, like Treasure Isle Surf Club in Galveston as "West Bitch.") We had older friends with cars and trucks (one guy owned a 'woody" station wagon that I worshipped) and we spent every weekend in Galveston or Surfside, Texas, trying to make the best of the Gulf Coast's shitty ass surf. When there was no surf, we skateboarded. I was still skating some when I was in my mid-twenties. I had some friends in Galveston who still owned a 12-foot plywood half-pipe in 1977. In high school, we rode multi-level parking lot ramps and the player's ramp at Rice University Stadium. A buddy of mine took a bad wipeout in a parking garage and broke his arm in 14 places. He could never skate or surf again. Almost lost the arm. By age 30, I was finished skateboarding. I took a bad fall and said to myself "What the hell are you doing? You're THIRTY YEARS OLD. Get real." But I still surfed for about another year. My last day surfing was in the winter near the Golden Gate in San Francisco. Freezing ass cold. Cramps in my legs. Near-hyperthermia. Fucking SHARKS. Fuck surfing. I was done. I gave my board and my wetsuit away.
  25. The problem, as I see it, is your desire to "be in a relationship." It sounds like you already have a relationship with this guy, but you want the relationship to be different, as in "More emotionally exclusive and intimate." Since very few teenaged boys are mature enough to handle the responsibilities of a mature, adult-like relationship (hey, it's a lot of work--who needs that shit when you're like sixteen?) then what you get when you fall for a boy is a boy's level of involvement. Teenagers are very self-centered (no criticism, I was too, back when I was a teenager) and it's all about "me." What I want, what I need, how I feel, etc. Mature adults are much more concerned with their partners' feelings than with their own. They are much more concerned with identifying and meeting their partner's needs rather than their own. Everyone is seeking to get their own needs met too, but the difference between adolescence and adulthood is largely a matter of compassion, empathy and committment. Would you expect a seven-year-old to appreciate Proust? Then don't expect committment and emotional intimacy from a high school boy. He's not capable of meeting you on that level, mainly because boys and girls mature at different rates. Sixteen-year-old girls are generally not attracted to sixteen-year-old boys. They find older young men more attractive, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old. When she is eighteen, her male peers will still seem immature and childish, and she will probably find college boys more attractive (probably hardly more mature than high school boys, but maybe a little bit.) Bottom line--just aim for friendship. Don't sleep with him unless he demonstrates a serious capacity for emotional committment (doubtful) and wait for him to grow up and realize that you were always supportive and affectionate. Say, when you're both about twenty-six or so. Before then you're just setting yourself up for heartbreak and disillusionment. Just because he wants sex doesn't mean he's really ready to handle being a woman's sexual partner. It's not about your mutual relationship, from his point of view, it's all about (how does this go?) "bustin' a nut." In other words, his focus is on his dick, not your feelings. Good luck. Why don't you just focus on older guys until he grows up?
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