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Vegan Lawn Care (most recent cut)

  The blades each screamed in pain, unheard. So much pain. That wicked blade moving through them with a mechanical, unforgiving precision. Forgiving or not, it was relentless. Each blade standing at a uniform height after. Some blades having had fallen down, struggle back up towards the sun, aching for the healing wash of the rain. Hundreds of blades cut down almost instantly. Repeatedly, thousands every few seconds. They would all live. Most of them. And they would flourish. These wonderful, living, communities grew and evolved over time. Not just one type, but a vibrant and thriving cacophony of variety. Sentient, in their own foreign, plant sentient way. They all knew, once the snows receded and the days grew to be longer than the nights, that it was only a matter of time until the violence returned. But the plants were also aware that this vicious reaper let them grow to seed first, always. They were changing as a result, evolving, and they knew it. They liked it. Blessed be the

Clasagna's Lil'dirty Kool-aid

       All the world to write about and seemingly nothing to say. Well, that’s just not like me at all! Every time I get onto social media I manage to get triggered by all sorts of things! All sorts of things that are surely mostly trivial, irrelevant nonsense.      National politics. A shooting in some-big-city, somewhere, some amount of people tragically effected. Terrible for certain, but serving only to paralyze as gun reforms are regarded by many shortsighted people as the greatest threat to being able to take on the US military if the need ever arose(Good luck against the US military with your 30 round AR-15 clips). Often it is more unrest in the middle east of some kind or another? The US is chock full of Christians. The Jews, and Israel especially, get a big propaganda bump over here just for all their mentions in a very famous book. You might know it. All the best people, the beautiful people, are selling one. The Bible. You know the one. Not the Guitar Bible, or the Frenc

Jesus H. Viral Christ, A Roman meme in Gaza

 The Jesus as a Roman meme Hypothesis. “Jesus Christ”; A fitting way to start such a discussion.  World renowned under many titles, “Savior”, “Son of God”, “Lamb of God”, “The Messiah”, “the human form part of the ‘Trinity’ of the ‘living’ God”, and, ironically, a common statement of shock, awe, surprise, and disbelief.  An estimated 2.3 billion people, the world over, claim to follow Jesus as the figure of foremost prominence in the “Christian” religion.   But what if Jesus never existed? Not as a person anyway?  Would that change the power of the message?  Certainly, it would make it easier to take “inviting him into your heart” and “partaking of his flesh”, ahem, a little easier to swallow.  But on top of Jesus maybe having never actually existed, is the problem with the literalization of so many parts of that Jesus message, which can be much more clearly understood, as metaphor.   Communion for example, with communion being a tossup between Jesus saying “Hey, I’m made out of

Vivek-sectomy Labotomy

  I caught Vivek Ramaswamy on ABC news today.  He is running for President this upcoming cycle.  He said some interesting things about “wokism” that I completely agreed with.  He defined “wokism” as “seeing everyone through the lens of ‘oppressor’ and ‘oppressed’, victim and perpetrator, and sort of viewing things through a sort of ‘wokist’ caste system.  I agreed with all that. Where he lost me was when he suggested we all need to go “work harder”, to “Grow the economy”, and “Get back to God.”  That terrifies me.  Super multi-denominational, plenty-of-religions ‘God’ is doing just fine on the back burner here in non-theocracy USA.  For all of the USA’s problems, I really believe that it is going to be the USA that gets its shit together in a few years and delivers us into a Star Trek-y, Orville-ish version of the future.  I really believe that version of the future is our best goal.  Our inspiration, really.   Continuing down this road of constant ‘growth’ is now approaching

Vegan Lawn Care

The blades each screamed in pain, unheard. So much pain. That wicked blade moving through them with a mechanical, unforgiving precision. Forgiving or not, it was relentless. Each blade standing at a uniform height after. Some blades having had fallen down, struggle back up towards the sun, aching for the healing wash of the rain. Hundreds of blades cut down almost instantly. Repeatedly, thousands every few seconds. They would all live. Most of them. And they would flourish. These wonderful, living, communities grew and evolved over time. Not just one type, but a vibrant and thriving cacophony of variety. Sentient, in their own foreign, plant sentient way. They all knew, once the snows receded and the days grew to be longer than the nights, that it was only a matter of time until the violence returned. But the plants were also aware that this vicious reaper let them grow to seed first, always. They were changing as a result, evolving, and they knew it. They liked it.

Big Pharma Vs. The Utility Prison Vagina.

     It had never occurred to me until today, but no one gives a single thought or care about my opinions.  “ Not one, single, person.” I thought (not even me sometimes) .    But I guess that’s not true either.  As soon as I dare share one that's not socially popular currently, a group of pile-on social justice warriors show up and start dictating 'care-direction' to each other.  Especially the vegans.  Man those vegans just go hard.  Vegetables must provide additional benefits besides just nutrients, anti-oxidants, and fuel.  Vegetables must provide some social justice fuel along with the good old, "Normal nutrition".      NOW I'm sure to have triggered the "white knights" into rallying and mounting up.  You know them, they (plural, TRIGGER WARNING) are the, "to-the-rescue" social justice warriors.  I will surely have got them involved and caring about my opinion by simply bringing up the vegans.  No one can defend themselves as good as th

The Veil, The 2nd, & Elementary Originalism

       Behind the veil, it waits. Cigarette smoke, cigar smoke, campfire smoke; how is it that the smoke always seeks the person that likes it least. Light a cigarette out on the street with a person that doesn’t smoke and doesn’t like smoke, and it seems more often than not that the smoke can control the wind; always finding it’s way back into their face. Move over, around, upwind or wherever, that smoke seems to have a mind of it’s own. It’s the cat that runs away every time you try to pet it, only to run up everytime to the other familiar person that never cares to. It’s that same time on the clock you keep seeing.      Locked up tighter than a billionaires vaults, our harsh and vivid reality pulses all around us, powered by the magic of the veil. Existing, rather than not existing. Mere observation, humble us, little individual humans, causing reality to fluctuate this way or that, simply by seeing. It’s Shroedinger’s cat! Is it dead? Is it even IN THE BOX? Was the sp