While on a magical visit to your enchanted land, a powerful Woman, drunk as our Lord, in the company of her ladyfriend, did accost me on the street, praying that I drink with them. “Of course,” said I, and proceeded, with her, into the justified and ancient rite. Much mirth and glee did we share, on the streets of that blessed city, Zgorzelec. Came her manfriends, one smitten with her, to protect her from our drunken Lord’s teachings, with naught but goodness in his heart, that he might preserve her chastity and her honor, and that she wouldst not fall from grace. And he screamed unto her, thus:

“What the kurwa do you think you are doing? Kurwa! You meet some American guy on the street and, kurrrrwa! Drink with him? And already so drunken? Kurrrrrwa?! Maybe fuck him? Kurwa!”

And it was with fear, loathing and righteous anger that I stopped my dance, and turned to this man, and spake thus:

“Thou shalt not speak unto Woman this way, nor shalt you so speak unto Man. For in uttering this word, ‘kurwa’, you demean the work of holy women, and call upon ordinary women to think themselves unholy, and thus dost thou make offerings to a false god, and blaspheme in the face of our Lord, and add evil to the earth, and put false notions into the heads and hearts of Man and Woman, and beg them concur that their bodies are not their own, that their will shall not be done, et cetera. Go forth and speak this word no more, or I am going to fucking punch you in the fucking face, motherfucker.”

And this sinner took pause, and then spake unto me, giving thanks, and I opened my vodka bottle unto him, and he drank.

So here I am, on the dog-walking-adventure, mostly thinking “zomg what a great ass on this girl”, my eyes and other bits doing the necessary tracking. Meanwhile, suddenly, lovely doggie-friend goes bounding off into the bushes, clearly away from the marked path. “DOGGIEGIRLIE!!!” screams my delightfully-packaged sexmuse, and when her dog comes back to her, timid, smacks her on the nose. “NO, BAD GIRL!” (edited here for emotion).

… Intermission, ~4 months …

Yeah, so, then we went off and took doggiegirl on long fun walks in the nature, and we kissed and we screwed. And my muse asked me things like “what are your dreams?” and I said, in her context, “I don’t have any,” and she was confused, a bit, but more disappointed.

~ Insert ASCII art of a boat ~

So, I came back, and within a few days it was time for her birthday. So, I went to hers and she picked me up, on the way to her folks’, and gave me a cake to hold. And I held the cake, there in the passenger seat, still hot for her body and her twinkles.

And during the afternoon backyard birthday celebration at her parents’ place, we interacted with another young couple, wife and slug and their year-old daughter. Wife dominated, slug dribbled. He wore all white because she wore all white, and he recorded video constantly because she wanted to watch it. And when this sweet little girl, just a year old, toddled into the garden and into the planters, playing with bark and rocks and worms and all the amazing things only a child can see in a patch of dirt, her mother SCREAMED to her, “get out of there! it’s dirty!” and then presented an ultimatum in the form of a very nasty gesture. Mom said, “okay, I’m going away, since you’re being so awful,” and she walked out of her daughter’s sight behind the house. Her daughter instantly broke into tears and began casting about in search of mom. Some minutes later, mom came back around the house, took up her daughter and dried her tears.

All-white manipulating mom had a testimony to give relating to how she’d just treated her own daughter, which went something like this: “BRRRZZZTFFWAAK BARATA NIKTO,” and which her evenly white-clad slave-husband videoed diligently.

And my sassy, twinkly, hot-assed lover said something like: “Well, she’s a little girl, and she’s got to learn.” And then laughed. And then all the people around the table laughed, except me.

And that’s why I don’t call her any more.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Syntactico-morpho-lexico-sono palette:

There was this stranger who came into our town. He was tall; and had a dark look about him; and a special brilliance was in his eyes. When he looked at us, it was the feeling that he could see right down to the bottom. We may have been mistaken in this, but at the time no questions were asked. The questions always come later. All we cared about was the mystery we sensed in this stranger, and we waited to see what would happen.

One evening, that was different from any other, he got us all together in the big auditorium. He stood there on the huge stage. The only light was on him and we waited in the dark. Then out of his tallness came the chanting; first as a whisper we could hardly hear: “The flibberty jib bom the bippity bop; the flibberty jib bom the bippity bop.” It didn’t make any sense. We were caught up in something we didn’t understand. He had trapped us without our knowing it. Possibly it was his manner. And we came alive to him as he slowly moved us with his chant through the land of hush, into insistent savage throbbing crescendos of ecstasy. As if it were the only thing we could do, we started to chant with him, “The flibberty jib bom the bippity bop; the flibberty jib bom the bippity bop.” And he was up on the high stage laughing with all his might, saying, “Yes, yes, yes.”

But there were those among us who were jealous of his powers. Who felt they should be in the center of the stage with the light shining on them. They were against our hero and the chanting and our going to be with him every free moment. And so little by little a little later, these critics set to work to make nonsense out of the sense of what we were doing; and they succeeded. They destroyed our hero’s faith in himself. He didn’t have it any more. After a few disappointing times in the big auditorium, the light gone out of him, we all stopped going. And the man who had once seemed so tall and who now seemed so much smaller, left our town, saying, “No, no, no.”

We lived through the boredom of the time that followed, telling each other pale stories of what once was and what might have been if. We lived on histories and hopes. We did this, until the miracle we never thought would happen again happened. Another stranger came into our town, and he too was tall and dark and had eyes that could look right down into the bottom of you. And he got us all together in the big auditorium, and with the light on him (we were in the dark), he chanted, “The flibberty jib bom the bippity bop; the flibberty jib bom the bippity bop.” And we joined in and the magic was in us, and he was laughing and all his might was with him and he was shouting, “Yes, yes, yes!”

But there were those among us who were jealous, and so forth, you know, you know what they did. Little by little a little later, they put us back on the narrow path. This is the way things have been our town for as long as anyone cares to remember.

By the way, how are things in your town?

Who’s watching
Tell me, who’s watching
Who’s watching me

I’m just an average man
With an average life
I work from nine to five
Hey, hell, I pay the price
All I want is to be left alone
In my average home
But why do I always feel
Like I’m in the twilight zone

And (I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
And I have no privacy
Whooooa-oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Tell me, is it just a dream

When I come home at night
I bolt the door real tight
People call me on the phone
I’m trying to avoid
But can the people on TV see me
Or am I just paranoid

When I’m in the shower
I’m afraid to wash my hair
‘Cause I might open my eyes
And find someone standing there
People say I’m crazy
Just a little touched
But maybe showers remind me
Of Psycho too much
That’s why

(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
And I have no privacy
Whooooa, oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Who’s playin’ tricks on me

[Instrumental Interlude]

(Who’s watching me)
I don’t know anymore
Are the neighbors watching me
(Who’s watching)
Well, is the mailman watching me
(Tell me, who’s watching)
And I don’t feel safe anymore
Oh, what a mess
I wonder who’s watching me now
(Who)
The IRS

(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
And I have no privacy
Whooooa, oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Tell me, is it just a dream

(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
And I have no privacy
Whooooa, oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Who’s playin’ tricks on me
(Who’s watching me)
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Oooooooh
Whooooa-oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
So ? who can it be
(Who’s watching me)
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Whooooa-oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Who’s playing tricks on me
(Who’s watching me)
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Can I have my privacy
Whooooa-oh-oh
(I always feel like)
(Somebody’s watching me)
Who’s playing tricks on me

My renunciation of citizenship is the subject of a feature article at Global Post:

http://www.globalpost.com/dispatch/news/regions/europe/111205/stateless-slovakia–renounce-us-citizenship-mike-gogulski

Many have burned their passports as a form of political protest. But Gogulski is one of only two Americans known to be ballsy enough to have filed the paperwork needed to officially become stateless. And he’s hoping to inspire others to do it, too.

[...]

Gogulski says it’s all been worth it. It’s all about proving a point, he says — that the system can’t control him and that citizenship is a silly, anachronistic construct.

He could apply for Slovak citizenship but he likes being stateless. For one thing, it certainly is quite the conversation starter.

Gogulski’s ultimate goal: To start a revolution of sorts in which Americans begin giving up their citizenship and become stateless en masse. Maybe, he says, he can be the symbolic beginning of this movement.

“I know the chances of that are about this small though,” he says, holding his index finger and thumb together in the air.

a: repudiate the national debt. enact a balanced budget amendment.

b: end the statutory “limited liability” privilege for all corporate forms. retroactively impose full liability on all corporate tortfeasors (BP, Exxon, Union Carbide, WR Grace, and others).

c: forgive all student loan debt.

d: end “qualified immunity” and other immunities for public officials at every level.

e: prosecute the war criminals and financial criminals of the past decade (at least), plus Kissinger.

f: withdraw from IMF, World Bank, OECD and similar planet-dominating financial cabals.

g: end the drug war. abolish the DEA. release all inmates imprisoned for drug-only offenses.

h: eliminate all law restricting the movement and settlement of homeless people on public lands and abandoned property. strengthen the rights of homesteaders and squatters.

i: cut the defense budget by 2/3 for 2012. close all foreign bases, recall all troops. unilaterally dismantle the nuclear weapons stockpile. merge the Navy into the Coast Guard. scrap every weapons system and program with a range greater than the continental US. defund all weapons development.

j: abolish TSA, DHS, NSA, NRO, FinCen, and replace them with nothing.

k: abolish the Federal Reserve.

l: repeal USA-PATRIOT, the Military Commissions Act and all similar “post-9/11 world” reactionary nonsense.

m: amend the Constitution to require a 75% majority of -all- members to pass new legislation, but only a 50% majority of members present to repeal legislation. ban riders and earmarks.

n: abolish federal block grants to states.

o: ban government pensions for elected officials. limit all other government pensions to $100k/yr.

p: eliminate the income cap on social security contributions.

q: implement means testing for social security retirement payments.

r: simplify the Internal Revenue Code to 50 pages or less. tax dividends and capital gains the same as income.

s: reduce patent and copyright terms to 10 years.

t: repeal all legislation restricting workers from organizing as they see fit.

u: eliminate all foreign aid. cut the State Department budget by 80%. ban diplomats from acting as corporate salesmen.

v: abolish all business subsidies and regulations which benefit big companies to the detriment of small businesses and sole traders, while doing nothing to protect the public.

w: ban all military equipment sales to foreign entities (rifles okay, tanks and gunships not).

x: abolish all law favoring big banks to the detriment of credit unions, local lending mutuals, etc.

y: statehood for DC. statehood or independence for Puerto Rico, Guam, American Samoa and all other disenfranchised US possessions.

z: roll back official secrecy. limit classification periods to 15 years. declassify everything up to 1996 immediately. strengthen FOIA and whistleblower protections. free Bradley Manning.

A correspondent brought my attention to this important video from Howcast: How To Replace a Lost or Stolen Passport

Click here to view the embedded video.

At 1:34 you can see that the scanned image of my canceled US passport from here has been doctored ever so slightly.

Seeing as we must have shared a womb and all, I do find it strange that Michaela never calls…

At $77 bucks a pop for Mister Oh-So-Necktied Coxon’s magic words, it’s rather clear that this posting is even less admirable than conventional vulgar libertarian “kill the poor” tropes. Not a grain of compassion shines through, except, perhaps, for:

“France’s GDF Suez, UK’s Rurelec, Italy’s Telecom Italia, Spain’s Repsol YPF, Brazil’s Petrobras, France’s Total, Switzerland’s Glencore, and a host of other international resource companies.”

Jeez, I guess I really hadn’t realized how truly virtuous the successor firms to government monopolies like Petrobras and Telecom Italia are! I guess I missed out on the memo describing the greatness of Total’s exploitation of Burmese — er, Myanmyarese, or whatever, but who cares about them — slaves. What paragons of goodness the elite management of imperial rump-state France’s appointees to the board of GDF Suez are. Best, in fact, if we ignore the stories on Wikipedia of Glencore which say that “ABC Radio reported that Glencore “has been accused of illegal dealings with rogue states: apartheid South Africa, USSR, Iran, and Iraq under Saddam Hussein”, and has a “history of busting UN embargoes to profit from corrupt or despotic regimes”. Specifically, Glencore was reported to have been named by the CIA to have paid $3,222,780 in illegal kickbacks to obtain oil in the course of the UN oil-for-food programme for Iraq.”

I mean, hell, if you can’t get the goddanged CIA on your side in dirty dealings in Latin America what *is* the world coming to?

Incidentally, my assessment of Evo Morales runs directly to “scumbag” and “moron”. But at least the man doesn’t wear a fucking necktie.

(To the tune of “Rawhide” by Frankie Laine, though preferably performed a bit more like the Dead Kennedys’ cover: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VuEnSaZC_kA)

I hereby dedicate these lyrics to the public domain under the terms of the Unlicense (http://www.unlicense.org/)

Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,
Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,
Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,
Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,
Bitcoin!
Hah! Hah!

Keep hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,
Oh my box is thrashin’,
Keep them miners hashin’, Bitcoin.
Fifteen machines in tandem,
But it’s so bloody random,
An’ I got this achin’ in my groin.
All the things I’m missin’,
Good vittles, love, and kissin’,
Will be waitin’ for me in Des Moines

Ain’t no fool, gigajoule,
Power tool, keep ‘em cool.
Ain’t no fool, gigajoule:
Bitcoin.
Mine ‘em out, cash ‘em in,
Join a pool, keep ‘em cool,
Mine ‘em out, cash ‘em in:
Bitcoin!
Hah! Hah!

Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,
Though the market’s crashin’,
Keep them miners hashin’, Bitcoin.
Just let me solve the next block,
And I’ll go back to Bangkok.
I’ve had my fill of Des Moines.
Em dee-five’s calculatin’,
My true love will be waitin’:
Waitin’ for me with sirloin.

Ain’t no fool, gigajoule,
Power tool, keep ‘em cool.
Ain’t no fool, gigajoule:
Bitcoin.
Mine ‘em out, cash ‘em in,
Join a pool, keep ‘em cool,
Mine ‘em out, cash ‘em in:
Bitcoin!

(Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,)
(Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,)
Hah!
(Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,)
Hah!
(Hashin’, hashin’, hashin’,)
Bitcoin.
Hah!
Bitcoin!