Slavery, Schlmavery
October 28, 2011
Okay now where the hell was I…Oh yea I was telling all you stupid ass bastards to stop whining about slavery.
Here’s the ugly truth about slavery at one point in human history everybody was making slaves out of the people they conquered. It was the way things were done. Am I saying it was right? Am I condoning slavery? Jumped up Jesus on a pogo stick NO!
I mean some of you are going to believe this about me now no matter what follows but let me try anyway.
Point one: Bad things happen. Sometimes good things result from this or these “bad thing(s)”. Take slavery for example. If your are the direct descendant of an individual taken from Africa and brought to this country for the purpose of slavery well then you were born into this country instead of Africa. And don’t even try to convince me that you’d rather have it that way. Famine, AIDS, Necklacing, Ebola stricken machete waving thirteen year olds running in vicious mobs. And that’s in the good section of town. Like hell you’d wanna live in Africa.
Anyway I’ve gotten off the point. Bad shit happens and you can either sit around whining and waiting for someone else to somehow fix the past(?), make all your wittle hurt feelings go away, or you can get up off your ass and move on.
I was lied to about the benefits of doing whatever feels good, and a life spent in the pursuit of the fun time party, fifteen years of my life in a stoned drunken homeless stupor. Who’s gonna repay me for that
Point two: Long before white Europeans ever set foot on the African continent tribes raided each other and took slaves. Hundreds of years after white American and Europeans outlawed slavery as barbaric and morally wrong African nations along with Middle Eastern nations were still engaging in the sale and use of human beings as slaves; including white Europeans.
Hell there are nations in the world still trading in slaves.
Ohh! Here’s one of those moments where the Little Mouse is going to want me to site my information but go look the damn thing up yourself, I already know it’s true and it doesn’t matter if you don’t believe it that’s the nice thing about facts it still true whether you believe it or not. Okay well honey here ya go here’s a pic with a link. Hopefully that works
Every race has taken part in the taking and trading of slaves, only white people have apologized for it
Point three: What I am not saying. I feel I have to make this a separate point because so many are going to misinterpret my words (some of you will still despite this disclaimer) I am not saying that slavery was good, fun, justifiable, right, or something we should return to. I am also not suggesting that I am the only person to believe 
or put these facts together I’m not. Others have done it, actually much more thoroughly and succinctly than I am here; hard to imagine but true.
I mean maybe no so hard to imagine…I am a dysfunctional unit after all
Do Whiggers eat Oreo’s?
October 28, 2011
Okay so what really started the whole idea for this blog was a small event that took place when I recentley took a pilgrimage home to see my family. During a 
lovely So Cal patio brunch thrown by my older sister and brother in law, my oldest brother El Revolutio, started to throw out the big R word…
”Racist” El started ranting “My little brother’s a racist”
I tried to g
ently correct him. “You can call me a culturalist if you..”
“Racist” He squawked in his drug addled “larry flynnt” voice again” Racist! Racist!”
Alright so I jumped right into it with-out much intro and already most of you are probably thinking, and will still be thinking after reading this blog that my brother was right and that I am indeed a racist. Well truthfully, and let me say this as gently as possible, I just don’t give a fuck. If after reading this you don’t see the logic of my argument you may not wanna come back and read this blog again, you may not be smart enough to understand the things I’m going to say. Or maybe not crazy enough.
I mean what the hell do I know– I’m a dysfunctional unit.
Anyway let me just git to it.
So the subject came up what I like about living in the frozen north as compared to the Land of Oz (So Cal). Among the pleasantries I extolled about my new home base was the old timey-ness…Okay so my exact words were that I enjoy living in an area that is more mono cultural. What I meant of course is that So Dak is still, in general, like the America I grew up with. What I meant was in my home town, in my neighborhood (in the “sf ghetto”) children’s bikes still lay out on the neighbors lawn all night long and no one steals them.
Okay so I’m getting off track cause I wanna make sure I address this key issue from a larger stand point then my need to recreate Norman Rockwell America…whoa there I go again see, my brother is right…or is he?
What I mean is that how we act, how we behave is not the result of the color of our skin. Or did I miss something? Claiming that our social or cultural behaviors are linked specifically, genetically to our race seems to be the most racist statement of all.
If this weren’t true then white people would have no trouble with young boys walking around in backward hats and baggy pants sayin “yo, yo, yo”. If it was solely skin color then why do so many blacks hate successful conservative black Americans.
“Whiggers” are still white, “Oreos” are still black, yet their respective races despise them. If it were about race, or the color of our skin, this would not be the case. Yet consistently when a person of any race begins behaving outside of their culturally accepted patterns their brothers and sisters in color reject them. Culture trumps race.
As another example, lets look at the difference between how many blacks view Herman Cain. Mr. Cain is definitely a black man racially speaking. A proud and successful member of his race who should be exemplified by his community, instead he is villified. I love Herman Cain, like most of his supporters that I’ve talked to, not because or despite the color of his skin, but because he is a proud supporter of, and a shining example of the American Culture.
So am I saying there’s no such thing as racism…nothing could be further from what I have said here. What I am saying is that many times when we talk (debate, argue, fight) as a country we use the word race when we mean culture. We cannot work to solve a problem without first addressing it from a true and real perspective.
This is what drives me crazy about most of our social discussions here in America. We can never fix a problem that we can’t discuss from the perspective of truth.
Am I a racist? Again you’re going to believe whatever you want, but, if you want to label me truthfully label me a culturalist?
There are some after reading this that will still want to say that I don’t understand what I am talking about. And I admit that I am certainly not very sensitive to other’s cry baby problems.
Like slavery, did I mention somewhere above that American Blacks should be thankful for slavery…
Now why did I say that…now I’m going to have to explain that statement in my next blog.
Don’t get too upset. There is logic to my statement.
Or at least I think there is.
But then again what the hell do I know…
I’m a dysfunctional unit.
dysu October 28th 2011 8 pm
Arbmerican Spring
October 26, 2011
“Occupy Oakland Demonstrators Gassed in Police Standoff” . So goes the headline on an ABC blog by Kevin Dolak.
Oh man I can see it now. They warned us. They said they were bringing it here and they have. These protests will continue to get worse. Violence will spread to every major city. we will continue to get sympathetic reports from the news (only at the bottom of the above mentioned story Kevin briefly mentions that the protestors may have been throwing paint on the officers prior to the gassing) 
As the violence threatens to spiral out of control, President Obama proclaims martial law and sends in federal troops, temporarily suspends elections and brings peace.
Unfortunately we are all now under Sharia law.
But that is the new Democracy-just ask the Libyan people
It’s enough to make this dysfunctional units head spin
dysu October 26th 745am
I Could Dance and be Merry, Life Would be a Ding a Derry
October 25, 2011
Okay well I got distracted this morning by the news when I really just wanted to kinda keep goin with the introductory crap, but sometimes ya’ gotta go with the moment ya know. Anyway it was an excellent opportunity to 
get started addressing bullshit and gave you all (all zero of you) a chance to get a feel for the kind of stuff I feel driven to talk about.
Politics, politicians , policies one of my most enjoyable diatriblical topics. But let me explain right now that, despite what you may think given my last blog, I am not a republican; though I may vote that way as of late.
Back in my youth, in fact, back in my homeless days (oh don’t worry we’ll get to that) and even some years after I was a rabid Earth First’n, Beyond War joinin leftist revolutionary, constantly bitchin’ about how the “man” was screwin’ me. Years later of course, upon close and thorough self examination I had to admit that it really boiled down to the fact that I wanted all the fancy shit that other people had, I just didn’t want to work for it.
Still, even after I first started working I was a registered Democrat. From Carter all the way through the Clinton years.
Okay I’m getting off track, but it was another quick good example. The ugly truth is what I wanna talk about. Sometimes you have to face some ugly truths with-in your self before you can change.
Sometimes you need some one to point it out for you.
If I had to try to fit myself in a neat political label I guess States Rights Separatist might do, or maybe an Anarchistic Libertine. Recently I heard the term “South Park Conservative” applied to a specific political philosophy. I like that one too.
But don’t get me wrong, I have a lot more to say about a much wider scope of touchy topics, and politics are just one of the clanky cogs in this dysfunctional unit. I think one of the best things you will find about this blog is that if I offend you just wait a few days, I’ll probably offend your social opposite. Ohh! Just thought of a good example…Abortion. I know I’m runnin long but bear with me.
I don’t believe abortion, at least in the sense that it is today, should be legal. Your argument, “My body, my decision” and “Keep your laws off my body” are logically inaccurate and therefore hold no merit.
Here is why. What defines me, makes me, me? My DNA. What defines you, makes you, you? Your DNA. We are alike in this difference. Every one of us. I am not you, you are not me, and that fetus, he/she is not either of us; not any of us alive on the planet today, not anyone who came before and has since passed on (at least not in the DNA argument) they are a brand new person.
When you say “keep your laws off my body” many individuals think fine, these laws aren’t passed to affect you, they are passed to protect that brand new person. Don’t get me wrong if you wanna kill your baby that’s between you and God. It’s just that your argument is bullshit and if you plan to keep readin this blog you should know how much I hate social b.s..
Now, I know you RtLfr’s are all cheering but I got somethin to say to you also. You pray and chant and attack and march and stand on the street corner claiming a calling from God to stop this “genocide of the unborn” .
As if God needs help from you.
What was it Jesus said? Oh yea don’t be like the hypocrite who stands on the street corner praying and wailing for hours so that to be seen by men, I’m paraphrasing from memory, but I mean Jesus himself said it straight out, it couldn’t be much clearer unless he came to your door and told you face to face.
He said all you need do is pray the Lords Prayer because God already knows whats in your heart. So before you git yerself all riled up just remember if it was God’s will abortion would be stopped already. Or do you claim to know the mind of God?
I mean I might make that claim but I’m a dys…oh you get it by now
dysu October 25th 6pm
I Could While Away the Hours, Conversin’ with Some Flowers
October 25, 2011
That was nice stopping and doing a little history. Don’t worry I will finish the tale I began. But inside my head there is a little dog, chasing its tail round and round. I can’t rest until he does, and he won’t stop while you 
bastards keep the relentless stream of bullshit up.
I know I’ve said that already more than once and have offered no examples so let me run just a couple by you now.
This morning on CBS news* I heard two “facts” that immediately sent my little dog into a mad tail spin…ya ready
Our President demanding the passing of his job bill somewhere in California, saying that Congress refuses to act, he is signing executive orders to spend billions more in stimulus money for teachers and other state employees (re:democratic union jobs) so that they can get back to or keep their (democratic union) jobs and too further offering taxpayer money to people who can’t afford to keep their homes(re: in democratic admin friendly states such as Nevada and Illinois). You think that bullshit in itself would be what I needed to talk about, but it’s not, I expect my politicians to lie. No it was the news people, specifically the white house correspondent. His claim (and by default then, the news service itself) that “P. Ob. had to take his case to the people because republicans in the congress were blocking the passage of his jobs bill.” I know, I know, you don’t see any problem with this story and think that the evil white christian hate mongering conservitives should be held accountable. There is only one problem. This a truth, but not the truth.
The truth is that the democrats in congress don’t want the f-ing bill passed either. He can’t get the votes he needs from his own party because of the devastaing effects from the last trillion dollar jobs bill that helped no-one but unions and ex-Chicago cronies. Don’t scoff at the computer screen that way. Go look it up. Facts are facts.
Still, and again, its the news services I get most aggravated by. They know that what they are reporting is only a half truth but they report it anyway. If you pause to ask yourself why…
Did you? I’m betting you didn’t. I’m betting that, like most people you are fine with the lies that media feed you. And you by far have bigger worries, depression, breast cancer, which Movie star is; getting divorced, in rehab, heading a charity, in the country of our enemy talking about how bad America is. Or is it those nagging pounds around your mid-section, healthy snacks for your growing brood, green products for a green life? Oh the distraction that drive my dysfunction
When I listen to the news in the morning I expect to be informed of the whole truth so that I can make up my own mind.
But I mean, I’m a dysfunctional unit.
dysu Oct.25 7:53 am
Declaration of Dysfunction: Article 1
October 24, 2011
In the early seventies, my Dad who worked for a major airline got transferred to the Land of Oz, So Cal. That’s where the dysfunction really sets in so I thought we’d start there and ignore much of my early “Leave it to 
Beaver” childhood. I’m gonna do my best to lay it out chronologically when possible, without too much detail (long) and emotional (boring). It will take more than one blog so I’m planning to mix in with my other crap, but I think it will help explain and tie a lot together.
Remember before you start, that now I try to thank God daily for every blessing and challenge set before me in my shabby fifty one years. Even the things you’re about to read.
The first year of school in So Cal I got my ass kicked every day. Westmont elementary, set in the middle of my comfortable middle class neighborhood was far from quaint and wholesome 60’s upper Midwest. There were low riders (even then showing a couple of inches of their boxer shorts), surfers, skinny blonde and tan, jocks and rockers, g
earheads and geeks. I was beneath them all. My nickname was “Pugsly” after the kid on the Addams family. Kids were sniffing glue regularly, smoking weed, drinking. Where I had come from (Viking’s country) a kid smoking cigarettes was considered a bad seed.
The teachers were no better. Our gym teacher a Vietnam vet carried a baseball bat with the roundness shaved away so that it became a long handled paddle. He had drilled holes in
his homemade paddle to increase velocity. I believe he also enjoyed the vicious whistle the pattern of ½ inch holes made as he brought it into action; as well as the panic such 
whistling caused in the paddle. And don’t even get me started on the practice of “gopher holing”.
You might think I’m making that up; but those that were there will remember.
Okay all this B.S. is taking too long and you must remember that above all its presented as reference point only. You will find as we journey together that I do indeed feel truly lucky and blessed to be who what and where I am. Without everything that happened to me (us) I (we) would not be me (us). Get it, got it good.
See, I mean, I am not who I am but who I’ve become.
Okay you can go back and read that one again if you need too, but don’t worry I definitely will get back to it in a future blog.
So it was near the end of this first school year in So Cal that I snapped the first time. I beat up a kid (Pollock?) a rung or two up the social ladder and was suspended for a couple days. When I came back a couple of the toughest kids patted me on the back “you ain’t such a bad unit after all.” By not being “bad” they meant I wasn’t a goody-good pussy.
It was one of three important events that occurred within that couple years of arriving in So Cal.
I’ll go into the other two as time goes on. Understanding the foundation of my dysfunction will hopefully not only help clarify but support my particular view of our increasingly dysfunctional world.
dysu Oct. 21, 633:pm
Thank You Fist Tuba!!
October 23, 2011
So my woman, Little Mouse the youthful beautiful vivaciously precocious poetess librarian couldn’t resist herself and snuck a peek at what I had been writing so far. The following actually took place late last night.
“You can’t write those things”
“Of course I ca…”
Seeing her mistake she quickly, sweetly, adjusted her argument
“You shouldn’t write those things…”
Let me interrupt real quick and explain that even though at this point this only my second blog I have a number of blogs written ahead of time. She had read about five of those. Okay sorry back to it-
“…they’re terrible.”
“But true.”
“How do you know they’re true?”
“I just know. “ I chuckled condescendingly. “How do you know the sky is blue?”
“That’s different.” She argued unfazed by my blustering “If you are going to make the type of
claims you’re making you’ll need to cite your sources”
“Why the hell would I wanna do that?”
“So people know you’re not just making this up!”
The cute thing was she was serious.
“Honey no one is going to read this.”
“But…”
“And if they do I just don’t give a f whether they believe me or not”
Little Mouse stared at me incredulously. Her librarian mind struggling to comprehend that I just didn’t care. Unable to wrap her lovely cataloguing literary mind around the concept she concluded I wasn’t really even being serious.
“Besides if I start citing my facts it will be too dry, booo-ing”
“Whatever, do what you want it’s your blog if you want to sound crazy…”
“Now ya got it!!”
“That way you can just make up all the “facts” you want”
“That’s right…”
She was already walking away.
“Wait what?”
I heard the door to her Grrrl cave close and what I assumed was a victory chortle.
“F-ing women!”
Of course I said that under my breath. I may be a dysfunctional unit but I’m not a stupid one. Well no that’s not necessarily true, both my sometimes being a stupid machine and my not being afraid of mocking women a loud. That’ll come in future blogs. My comments on women and how they have ruined this once great manly country of ours will be coming soon; I won’t be able to help myself.
Don’t get me wrong I love women so try not to get your pretty little heads too worked up. Wait until you hear what I have to say before you call me a sexist misogynistic bastard; then get back in the kitchen and get my f-ing beer. No I’m just kidding…I don’t drink beer
But really Little Mouse knows she’s smarter and better than me and that she is by the far the best woman I have ever met (though that’s not saying a whole lot).
This summer we spent many humid ass f-ing days at the local city pool floating around the Lazy River. Facing each other on separate tubes we locked our legs together and drifted for hours under the tropical heat of the northern sun. One 95 degree day, among the throng of dripping drifters, was a little girl; blowing an annoying nameless tune with tightly pursed lips through her ten year old clenched fist. Its opposition to the concept of our being on the Lazy River was not lost to many of the adult floaters, including Little Mouse and me.
Like us she rode around and around the small tweaked oval “river”. Eventually our annoyance gave way to subtle interest. Her determination and commitment to her craft caused us to give a begrudging respect. On one pass the little virtuoso noticed our chuckles, she nodded, held her little fist aloft and shouted “Thank you fist tuba!”
Little Mouse laughed as hard as I did at the quirky kooky kid, not sarcastically or harshly but sharing in the girls unabashed joy and self assured independence. Little Mouse got it. This is only one of the reasons I love her-
Thank you fist tuba indeed.
dysu Oct 19th 4AM
Hello, Hello, Can ya hear me Joe?
October 23, 2011
So almost everybody I talk to tells me at one point or another that I should write a book. They are like, “Jesus why don’t you just write a book about it”. Well, I thought and thought about their 
suggestion and realized that would be a lot of f-ing work, or I guess a lot of dedication to a long term project and my A.D.D. just won’t allow that. No I’m just joking, A.D.D. is not my diagnosis. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have it, just that among the many psych evals I have had, Attention Deficit Disorder rarely took center stage.
But that whole topic, the “what the hell is wrong with that guy?” is for a later blog, so I am getting off on the wrong foot as it were. This is my introductory blog, the one that tells you a little bit about who I am and what I wanna say. So I guess the above paragraph wasn’t too off topic, ‘cause of course my (as of yet) un-discussed dysfunction is a big part of who I am. As to what I actually wanna talk about well…
See the thing is, I mean, I have enough trouble with my own issues without having to wade relentlessly through the deep river of bullshit that our modern day life has become. So I just need to talk about it. I am called (a whole noth
er blog) to talk about it. Like a pressure valve or anti anxiety drug.
So yea, this is my blog about my crazy ass thoughts and though I doubt sincerely that any one of you bastards will take notice or care, I’m still going to write like it matters. Because the truth matters. The truth as I see it anyway. But hey, what the hell do I know I’m a dysfunctional unit.
Anyway that’s the whole deal, I’m gonna write about what bugs me about our modern life, write about the bullshit that is driving me crazy; about how we say racism when we mean culturalism, about the lie of second hand smoke, about politics and politicos, of women and men, and family and baseball apple pie truth justice and…ya know.
Why I’m writing this is a different story. Mostly I’m doing this for my off spring. I’m sure some day they may want to know just why their Dad was so…well…the way he was. I am getting older and, with what you will eventually learn about me, you will be equally amazed that I have made it to fifty-one ripe old years. But given my life it is possible that any day now I just drop. I am afraid some days that all they will remember of me is that I was the cranky old man who sat in the corner smoking and ranting about the state of the world.
But again, what the hell do I know, I’m a dysfunctional unit.
dysu Oct. 17th, 2011 7:30 pm
