Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Earth Day 2


























  "The earth has been given to the children of men." Psalm 115:16

"Let every individual and institution now think and act as a responsible trustee of Earth, seeking choices in ecology, economics and ethics that will provide a sustainable future, eliminate pollution, poverty and violence, awaken the wonder of life and foster peaceful progress in the human adventure."-John McConnell

“The economy is a wholly owned subsidiary of the environment, not the other way around.” -Gaylord Nelson



Picture Legend

1. Earth Day Flag
2. Smog in Beijing
3. What it’s like to walk around in the Chinese capital
4. View to the east
5. Getting ready for the 2014 Olympics
6. The marathon
7. Going to school
8. Koala
9. Sean Penn
10. Lazy, shiftless, drug addled assholes
11. Enabler
12. Intelligentsia sex symbol, Naomi Klein  
13. Global distribution of wealth
14. World military expenditures
15. War graph
16. John McConnell
17. Star of Hope
18. Inspiration
19. John and wife Anne with the first Earth Flag in 1969
20. With revised flag in 2004
21. Gaylord Nelson
22. Global Poverty Project/Earth Day concert on Washington Mall




   And I thought LA was bad. 
   I remember Bob Hope, who lived in Los Angeles, joking, “I don't trust air I can't chew.”
   During the Olympics in Beijing last year many of the runners wore face or gas marks to try and protect themselves from the effects of the abysmal air quality. Some refused to run. Some quit after trying and seeing their face masks turn black.
   PM2.5, or particulate matter of 2.5 micrometers or less, teenie tiny little pieces of crap that can embed themselves deep in the lungs and which can lead to diseases such as asthma, had been detected at levels of 400 micrograms per cubic meter as the runners lined up to begin the race in Tiananmen Square. 
   The recommended daily average maximum level of exposure as prescribed by the World Health Organization is 25 micrograms.
   Some say, certainly not me (quite frankly, I think it’s Godzilla) the poor air quality is caused by the heavy use of coal in electricity and power generation and emissions from the growing number of those new fangled motor vehicles the Chinese middle class are now enjoying.
   Just to spice things up, the air, if you can call it that, also contains quantities of ozone (damages mucous and respiratory tissues in animals (humans are animals, a mammal, just like cuddly koalas ... sorry Bible people), and also tissues in plants, above concentrations of about 100 parts per billion (ppb), sulphur dioxide (a precursor to acid rain (rain that has acid in it), also associated with increased respiratory symptoms, uncontrollable flatulence, difficulty in breathing, and premature death... in the dying sense of the word), mercury (causes sensory impairment (vision, hearing, speech), disturbed sensation, lack of coordination... death), and cadmium as well (can cause flu like symptoms including chills, fever, and muscle ache sometimes referred to as "the cadmium blues," tracheo-bronchitis, pneumonitis, pulmonary edema, and suspension of all bodily functions). 
   The severity of atmospheric pollution levels of cities such as LA, Beijing, Delhi, Mexico City and others, are increased by atmospheric inversion layers that traps pollution close to the ground. 
   Cancer has become the leading cause of death in Beijing and throughout the country.
   China’s government also estimates that air pollution prematurely kills from 350,000 to 500,000 residents every year. Water and soil pollution are also severe throughout the country. 
   According to Bloomberg News, Beijing’s Centre for Disease Control and Prevention says that, although life expectancy doubled from 1949 to 2011, “the average 18-year-old Beijinger today should prepare to spend as much as 40 percent of those remaining, long years in less than full health, suffering from cancer, cardiovascular disease and arthritis, among other ailments.”
   There’s nothing peculiar to Chinese smog... smog is smog as they say. And it’s everywhere. You, me, penguins, are inhaling the stuff right now. 
   Still politicians of one particular party back here in the good ol’ United States fanatically fight to block pollution control regulations, and even remove the power of the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), or shut it down completely! We don’t need no stinking EPA, they say! 
   Perhaps they don’t, but you, me and the penguins sure do. 
   The new documentary film, “The Human Experiment,” narrated by happy-go-lucky Sean Penn, points out that back in 1974, the devil spawned agricultural multinational conglomerate  Monsanto, developed a class of herbicides using glyphosate as their key ingredient. By the 1990s, the company had created corn, soy and cotton seeds that were genetically altered to resist glyphosate herbicides, allowing farmers to kill weeds without fearing for the health of their crops. 
   Monsanto’s Roundup is the most widely used weed-killer in the world.
   But we’ve discovered that glyphosate is carcinogenic to animals (remember, humans... men, women, boys, and girls, are animals). In a report released last month real scientists affiliated with the World Health Organization (WHO) definitively linked glyphosate to increased risks for non-Hodgkin lymphoma, as well as DNA and chromosomal damage in mammals (remember...).
   And guess what?! Roundup is only one of tens of thousands of chemicals we encounter every day in our food, clothing (including bikinis), furniture, electronics and cosmetics. According to that EPA the republicans say we don’t need, over 84,000 chemicals are used in the United States  commerce, most of which have never been tested for potentially toxic effects on human and wildlife health and the environment!
   “The Human Experiment,” investigates the health risks perpetuated by the chemical industry, and demonstrates how in their eyes we’re all just guinea pigs available for testing. 
   You should go see it!
   The two examples above are considered forms of pollution. There are others. 
   The United Nation’s World Bank estimated in 2008 that 1.29 billion people were living in absolute poverty (defined as "a condition characterized by severe deprivation of basic human needs, including food, safe drinking water, sanitation facilities, health, shelter, education and information. It depends not only on income but also on access to services."-UN. Currently, absolute poverty refers to earning below the international poverty line of a $1.25/day (in 2005 prices), set by the World Bank), as opposed to relative poverty (defined as how economic inequality distributed among people in a particular group, or groups in a population, or between nations). 
   The Earth’s population in 2008 (the World Bank’s been kinda busy lately, so we don’t have more recent and accurate data) was about 6.7 billion (I do know that the current population of the world stands at 7.3 billion... and counting), so we’re talking about a little less than an entire sixth of the total population of the planet living in absolute poverty. That’s one sixth of the planet who are probably lazy, shiftless, drug addled assholes, that can’t pick themselves up by their own bootstraps, and are looking for a government handout... according to some people. 
   You’ve probably seen those late night commercials for ChildFund, where the nice white haired spokesperson Alan Sader tries to make you feel guilty for all of the forlorn, sickly children who didn’t have the good sense to be born in affluent countries. Those are the folks some people are talking about. If you buy in to the ChildFund hype and sponsor these kids you’re actually just enabling the little bastards, and thus actually hurting them by putting off the time they will have to buckle up and start a paper route or something, becoming self sufficient in the process. 
   I had a paper route for severals years and look at how I turned out... oh, wait....
   However, I am categorically opposed to the suggestion that rather than sending monetary donations to these groveling tots and their families, leaflets of Jonathan Swift’s “A Modest Proposal,” be distributed in their stead.
   On the other side of the coin, those hard working individuals, who did pull themselves up by their own bootstraps to make something of themselves, like the Waltons and Koch families, are doing just fine, and rightfully enjoying the fruits of their labors. 
   Even those who inherited a few bucks are contributing to society by being job creators, and pissing down some of their largess so the rest of us may have a chance to reach their lofty positions. 
   As a matter of fact the wealthiest one percent hold about thirty eight percent of all of the privately held wealth in the United States of America, as they should, while the losers in the bottom ninety percent hold seventy three percent of all of the debt.  According to the New York Times, the "richest 1 percent in the United States now own more wealth than the bottom 90 percent."
   Obviously the bottom 90% need to quit whining, straighten up, and get their act together. 
   Last year those clever folks at Oxfam International released a report called, “Working for the Few,” that contain some statistics on what some call the “growing tide of inequality.”
   The report states “that almost half of the world’s wealth is now owned by just one percent of the population.
   The wealth of the one percent of the richest people in the world amounts to about $110 trillion. That’s 65 times the total wealth of the bottom half of the world’s population.
   The bottom half of the world’s population owns the same as the richest 85 people in the world.
   Seven out of ten people live in countries where economic inequality has increased in the last 30 years.
   The richest one percent increased their share of income in 24 out of 26 countries for which they  had data between 1980 and 2012.
   In the US, the wealthiest one percent captured 95 percent of post-financial crisis growth since 2009, while the bottom 90 percent became poorer.”
   The U.K. based Tax Justice Network estimates that in 2010, the private financial wealth of individuals stowed unreported in tax havens around the world was somewhere between $21 trillion and $32 trillion, tucked away for a rainy day.
   The brilliant Canadian journalist, and author of one of my favorite books, “The Shock Doctrine,” Naomi Klein, in addressing sources of revenue that will be needed to change from a global fossil fuel based economy, to one that utilizes renewable energy sources, without causing a worldwide economic maelstrom, and before the climate blows up, suggests that if that $21 to $32 trillion were brought to light and it’s earnings taxed at a 30% rate, it would bring in at least $190 billion in income tax annually (she suggests other sources of revenue as well. I highly recommend her latest book, “This Changes Everything, Capitalism vs the Climate.” It’s well worth the cover price).
   How much total wealth is there in the world to go around? Well, if you add up precious metals,  checking accounts, CDs, jewels, couch money... it comes out to around $241 trillion, so rich people control or own a large chunk of that.
   It’s good to be in the one percent. 
   Speaking about climate change, that’s something certainly worth worrying about. It’s probably the greatest challenge the human race has ever faced. I mean it’s actually a real problem but the world’s governments are acting like school children and pretending it doesn’t exist, or acknowledge that it exists, state that they are working real hard to lower global greenhouse emissions and switch to a clean energy economy, then do absolutely nothing that will produce a discernable effect on the problem, kowtowing to political considerations and monied interests. 
   The problem is there (98 percent of the scientific community, those that don’t actually work for the fossil fuel industry, agree that global warming is real). It is getting worse every single minute. It affects everyone, but future generations will have to cope with the decisions that we make now in the present for their entire future, still we do little about it, despite having Naomi going to all of the trouble of letting us know how to pay for substantially addressing the issue.
   Sounds like someone is in denial.   
   Conservatives certainly are. Almost all republican politicians are. The fossil fuel industry either is in denial that global warming exists, or knows that it does exist and just doesn’t care, which seems a bit psychopathic to me.
   Ms Klein attended a conference at the Heartland Institute in Chicago where they were making fun of all of the foolish naive idiots that were taking climate change seriously. The following is what she wrote about it in her book:
   “But denier’s relative economic and social privilege doesn’t just give them more to lose from deep social and economic change; it gives them reason to be more sanguine about the risks of climate change should their contrarain views turn out to be false. This occurred to me as I listened to another speaker at the Heartland conference display what can only be described as an utter lack of empathy for the victims of climate change. Larry Bell (the space architect) drew plenty of laughs when he told the crowd  that a little heat isn’t so bad: “I moved to Houston intentionally!” (Houston was, at that time, in the midst in what would turn out to be Texas’s worst single-year drought on record.) Australian geologist Bob Carter offered that “the world actually does better from our human perspective in warmer times.” And Patrick Michaels said that people worried about climate change should do what the French did after the devastating 2003 heat wave across Europe killed nearly fifteen thousand people in France alone: “they discovered Walmart and air-conditioning.”
   I listened to these zingers as an estimated thirteen million people in the Horn of Africa faced starvation on parched land. What makes this callousness among deniers possible is their firm belief that if they’re wrong about climate science, a few degrees of warming isn’t something wealthy people in industrialized countries have to worry about* (When it rains, we find shelter, when it’s hot, we find shade,” Texas congressman Joe Barton explained at am energy and environment subcommittee hearing.)  
   As for anyone else, well, they should stop looking for handouts and get busy making money. (Never mind the World Bank warned in a 2012 that for poor countries, the increased cost of storms, droughts, and flooding is already so high that it “threatens to roll back decades of sustainable development.”) When I asked Patrick Michaels whether rich countries have a responsibility to help poor ones pay for costly adaptions to a warmer climate, he scoffed: There is no reason to give resources to countries “because, for some reason, their political system is incapable of adapting. The real solution, he claimed, was more free trade.”
   *Much of this confidence is based on fantasy. Though the ultra rich may be able to buy a measure of protection for a while, even the wealthiest nation on the planet can fall apart in the face of a major shock (as Hurricane Katrina showed). And no society, no matter how well financed or managed, can truly adapt to massive natural disasters when one comes fast and furious on the heels of the last.” 
   My, my.
   Let’s move on.
   The United States is  not at war at present...  technically, although it maintains military forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan, and is currently operating an aerial campaign in Iraq against the forces of the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant, or ISIl. 
   The United States maintains the largest active military in the world. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, using current market exchange rates, the United States spent 610 billion on defense last year. The country with the next highest expenditure was China with 216 billion. Russia 84.5 billion. Saudi Arabia 80.8 billion. France 62.3. Great Britain 60.5. India 50, Germany 46.5, Japan 45.8, South Korea 36.7, Brazil 31.7, Italy 30.9, Australia 25.4, United Arab Emirates 22.8, Turkey 22.6, and Liechtenstein 21.7, for a total of $1,797.7 trillion devoted to killing each other (Ms Klein further suggests that slashing the military budgets of the top ten spenders on this list would give us another $325 billion per year that would go towards our climate problem). Most of these countries use their military forces for purely defense purposes. Others, like the United States and Russia, are more... proactive. 
   There are currently 53 armed conflicts being waged throughout the world that have resulted in the deaths of 100 to 10,000 in 2014 or 2015. 
   The United States has been involved in one armed conflict or another for 214 out of it’s 235 calendar year existence since it was founded in 1776, or 93% of the time. Is it really any wonder that the U.S. is considered the greatest threat to world peace? I mean really. Why have that big old military if you’re not going to use it?
   Have we really benefited by being a nation of war? Did it prevent 9/11? 
   The answer is no, it did not prevent 9/11. Have we benefitted? Sometimes. Off the top of my head the only wars the United States has actually benefited from were the Revolutionary War, the Mexican–American War, the Barbary Wars, the War of 1812, the Civil War, and World War II. 
   Some would make a case for all of the other wars the U.S. has been involved with, such as the many conflicts with the indigenous people of North America, but then one would have to concede that the United States benefited by committing, all combined, one of the greatest and prolonged acts of genocide the world has ever known. 
   Or World War I, to stop European aggression. But did we really have to be involved? 
   In any case it appears we really like to be at war, and I think that those who benefit the most are those who provide the tools for war. The weapons manufacturers, the ship builders, those who supply the military. 
   Obviously we don’t need to have or maintain such a huge armed force. But like our aging,  decrepid, and obsolete nuclear arsenal (the United States plans to spend at least $355 billion to maintain and rebuild its nuclear arsenal over the next decade, according to a new report by the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office. Why? We planning to start a nuclear war in the near future?) once you’ve got it it’s hard to get rid of it even if you don’t need it or don’t want it anymore, so politicians keep clamoring to increase the budget for the Department of Defense.    
   As Naomi Klein asks most plaintively in “This Changes Everything,” what is wrong with us?
   
   Son of a traveling independent Pentecostal evangelist (wasn’t part of a franchise), John McConnell was born in Davis City, Iowa on March 22, 1915. 
   When he was 24 years old John met Albert Nobell (not Alfred Nobel, the dynamite guy. He died in 1896), a chemist (alright, alright... Alfred was a chemist as well. I know that. But he was dead, deceased, parted this mortal coil by 1939 when John and Albert met). They founded the Nobell Research Foundation right here in Los Angeles, where John worked as Vice-President and business manager. 
   The foundation was in the business of making thermosetting plastic, which is a plastic that  irreversibly cures, and can be molded into various shapes, the first manufacturing facility for plastic on the west coast.  
   McConnell realized plastic’s capacity to pollute the environment, and thus his concern for ecology grew, way before it was fashionable to be an environmentalist. Due to his concern, he and Albert developed a plastic utilizing walnut shells, which until that time had only been used as an abrasive. They also sought alternate uses for various waste products. 
   During the Second World War John worked as a seaman on Merchant Marine vessels, where he  took the position that prayer and love could be more powerful than bombs, and he conducted semi-religious services for his fellow sailors. 
   After World War ll, and following an educational missionary effort in Honduras, John worked briefly as Registrar at the Lincoln Law School in  San Jose, California, where I was born several years ago. He also worked as a representative of the American Correspondence School, the precursor to the University of Phoenix. 
   John and a man named Erling Toness, a newspaper editor, published the Toe Valley View in Bakersville, North Carolina. Life Magazine carried a feature story, "Trouble in the Toe Valley," about the two’s efforts against local violence and corruption. 
   On Halloween, 1957, inspired by the Soviet Union’s successful launch of the Earth’s first artificial satellite, Sputnik One, John wrote an editorial entitled, "Make Our Satellite A Symbol Of Hope," calling for peaceful cooperation in the exploration of Space with a "Star of Hope" satellite, a visible beacon orbiting the planet.
   The editorial was picked up by the wire services and reprinted in hundreds of newspapers. John  appeared on the Arline Francis Show, the Today Show and other TV Network programs. He became a media star, which led him to found a Star of Hope organization in with the goal of fostering international cooperation in outer space. 
   In pursuit of that goal, Mr. McConnell obtained support in Geneva of the President of the Atoms for Peace Conference and other leaders, including Dr. Glen Seaborg of the United States and Professor A. P. Alexandrov of the U.S.S.R..
   In 1959 John moved back to California with Erling, where they founded a weekly paper, the “Mountain View.” On April 19th, 1961 he published an editorial urging a joint venture in space with American Astronauts and Soviet Cosmonauts. The idea was presented to the White House, and given to Soviet officials. President Kennedy supported the idea, and later President Nixon obtained agreement for a joint venture, which resulted 1975‘s Apollo–Soyuz Test Project. 
   In 1962, John worked as the Northern California Director of "Meals for Millions," and organized a successful campaign in San Francisco to feed thousands of Hong Kong refugees.
   Mr McConnell worked again with national media outlets in 1963 to broadcast his idea for a “Minute of Peace,” sixty seconds of media silence during which listeners were encouraged to contemplate peace. 
   It’s a good thing he did that back in the sixties as I don’t see the idea gaining much traction in today’s profit seeking environment. 
   “Minute for Peace” messages were broadcast worldwide through the United Nations in 1965. The practice is still evident, without credit to McConnell, at the UN and religious and political venues. 
   As a Christian, John believed mankind had an obligation to take care of the earth, and to share its resources equally, based on such passages as Psalm 115:16, "The earth has been given to the children of men."
   In 1969 John was inspired by photographs of the Earth taken from outer space by Apollo 8, and used that image to create the original Earth Flag, which has since been flown in most countries of the world, the North Pole, the South Pole and aboard the space station Mir. 
   He conceived Earth Day, a global holiday, a day to honor the Earth and the concept of peace, to be celebrated on the spring equinox (March 20th or 21st).
   His quote at the top of this post lists just three of the problems, pollution, poverty, and violence, that he was concerned with, and for which I have presented several examples, and which sadly still plague mankind. 
   Womankind too!
   We’ve discussed Earth Day briefly a few years ago, here.
   McConnell announced the idea at a United Nations conference in San Francisco in November of 1969. The city of San Francisco and other communities in California, Colorado, and the East Coast adopted the idea, and the first Earth Day occurred on March 21st, 1970. 
   Unfortunately, United States Senator Gaylord Nelson (D-WI) was there and listening in. 
   The senator had attended college in San Jose, where I was born, and where John McConnell once worked. So I believe all three of us are some how deeply connected.
   At the time the senator was promoting an Environmental Teach-In, patterned after Vietnam War protests, to be held on college campuses on April 22nd. 
   His organizers, how shall I put this... stole... the Earth Day brand, and because of their greater influence with the media  April 22 has become more well-known, in the United States as "Earth Day." 
   The original equinox Earth Day, March 21st, however, is still celebrated at the United Nations and in most countries of the world.
   The future senator had served in the the Okinawa campaign during World War II,  which included the largest amphibious assault in the Pacific during the war.
   I myself drove an amphibious assault landing craft when I served in the navy, although as far as I know no one ever shot at me while I was doing it.
   After the war Nelson was elected to the Wisconsin State Senate, serving until 1958, when he ran and was elected governor, serving two terms. 
   He ran for the U.S. Senate in 1962, and was re-elected in 1968 and 1974. 
   Senator Nelson was a champion for women’s health and reproductive rights. In 1970, he called for Congressional hearings on the safety of combined oral contraceptive pills (the combined oral contraceptive pill (COCP), often referred to as the birth control pill or colloquially as "the pill," is a birth control method that includes a combination of an estrogen (estradiol) and a progestogen (progestin)) which were famously called "The Nelson Pill Hearings." As a result of the hearings, side-effect disclosure was required for the pill in patient inserts for the first time... the first time for any pharmaceutical drug for that matter.
   The first Earth Day had participants and celebrants in two thousand colleges and universities across the country, roughly ten thousand primary and secondary schools, and hundreds of communities. “20 million Americans took to the streets, parks, and auditoriums to demonstrate for a healthy, sustainable environment in massive coast-to-coast rallies. Groups that had been fighting against oil spills, polluting factories and power plants, raw sewage, toxic dumps, pesticides, freeways, the loss of wilderness, and the extinction of wildlife suddenly realized they shared common values.” -Earth Day Network
   It "brought 20 million Americans out into the spring sunshine for peaceful demonstrations in favor of environmental reform,” author Jack Lewis noted.    
   The first Earth Day led to the creation of the EPA, and the passage of the Clean Air, Clean Water, and Endangered Species Acts (all of which the republicans are currently attempting to gut). 
   "It was a gamble," Gaylord recalled, "but it worked."
    Earth Day was not celebrated again until 1990. This time the celebration escaped the boarders of the U.S. and went global, mobilizing 200 million people in 141 countries, and focusing on environmental issues. Earth Day 1990 gave a huge boost to recycling efforts worldwide and helped pave the way for the 1992 United Nations Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro.
   For his role as Earth Day founder President Bill Clinton awarded Senator Nelson the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1995, the highest honor given to civilians in the United States. 
   John McConnell received a firm handshake. 
   Earth Day is now celebrated annually, and observed in 192 countries, and coordinated by the nonprofit Earth Day Network, chaired by the first Earth Day 1970 organizer Denis Hayes, according to whom Earth Day is now "the largest secular holiday in the world, celebrated by more than a billion people every year." Environmental groups have sought to make Earth Day into a day of action which changes human behavior and provokes policy changes.
   Last Saturday Earth Day celebrants jumped the gun and held a free Global Poverty Project/Earth Day concert on the Washington Mall, featuring musical guests Usher, Mary J. Blige, Gwen Stefani and No Doubt, Common, Fall Out Boy and Train.
   I know one of those acts whose picture is above. 
   It is said 250,000 to 300,000 were in attendance, with a billion others around the globe, acknowledging the need for a clean, sustainable, and equitable planet Earth, our only home.

   Gaylord Nelson died of cardiovascular failure at age 89 on July 3rd, 2005.

   John McConnell passed from this life in the presence of his devoted wife, Anna, and a few friends in Denver, Colorado, on October 20th, 2012, at the age of 97. 

Addendum: 4-23-15: 30 tips
Addendum: 4-23-15: Hyjacked?
Addendum: 4-23-15: Earth Day should be...
Addendum: 7-24-15: Common chemicals may work together to cause cancer

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Skid Row Diary 40



























9   November   2003   Sunday   Day 120


“E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!” -Mr. Praline


     
    I got up and found KPCC on the radio, and the Ian Masters Program. He was interviewing the Democratic presidential candidate Dennis Kucinich. Ian wondered what Dennis would do if he became President.
   I know one thing that would happen. We’d have a super hot First Lady, that’s what. 
   And Elizabeth’s only 31 years younger than her husband.
   The show following Ian’s concerned the creation of a new Hollywood Black List, generated by right wing Internet web sites, targeting actors, actresses, and entertainers who have voiced displeasure with President Bush’s policies and administration.
   I skipped the Buddhist Temple today and went straight to lunch. Hot dog. One large dog. I brought down some of my special mustard.
   I felt restless today, and without direction, so I went to the library to exchange videos and use their computers. I didn’t feel restless anymore upon leaving the library. I felt horny.
   Spaghetti for dinner. At least that’s what I was told it was.
   Up in my lonely room I watched the movie “Saving Silverman,” starring the two Amandas, Peet and Detemer. The singer Neil Diamond made a rare screen appearance. My ex-friend and old boss, Captain Pamela Strickland was secretly in love with Diamond I think.
   The actor Sam Elliot too [2nd picture above is of the Strickland’s, Ron and Pam, on the right]!
   I also watched some new Simpsons episodes, and “Malcolm in the Middle.”
   Somewhere near 1:00AM, I stopped whatever it was I was doing and switched on Frank Sontag’s Impact Program on KLOS, and listened to his friend, Craig Hewlett, speak about corporatism, a form of government being tested in this country, and about how the majority of the population of the United States doesn’t give a rat’s hind quarters about anything other than their own immediate interests and pleasures, and also about how the U.S. military has surreptitiously surrounded Iran.
   Then I went to sleep. I dreamt I saw Crystal Breeze, the beautiful and talented star of “Winner Takes All,” “Raffles,” and many other fine films, sitting in a wheelchair wearing a motorcycle helmet on the corner of 6th and Wall.
   Then I woke up! Hewlett was just finishing up, and I wasn’t sleepy anymore. I slipped in a Monty Python tape, one of the skits focusing on a pet shop customer’s dissatisfaction.
   I drifted off again and dreamt I was in chapel on the third floor of the residence in Pasadena. Amanda Peet was seated to my right, and Kimberly Strickland, Pamela’s daughter, on my left, both ladies dressed in the tight, sexy uniforms of the Salvation Army, as was Kimberly’s mom, who was up on the stage opening her birthday present the men in the program had given to her. It was a pretty big box when she began opening it, but that box contained a smaller box, and that one a smaller one, on and on, until she finally came to a small envelope that had the words, “Led Zeppelin Tickets,” printed on it. 
   She read that and then told the assembled audience of clapping men, myself, Kim, and Amanda, “Thank you, but I don’t know who Led Zeppelin is.”
   She was wrong. I had told her who Led Zeppelin was, but when told to open the envelope, she didn’t find Led Zeppelin tickets. She found tickets to a Neil Diamond concert, one of the men she secretly loved .  
   Pamela was very happy. Kim and I thought she’d go through the roof.


10   November   Monday    Day 121


   Giselle Blondet was wearing a lovely black skirt and wide lapeled jacket today, while Ana María Canseco was contrasting in a low necked, red pants suit.   
   Later, after I got a hold of myself, I went to the library again to make sure I was stocked up on videos, as it will be closed tomorrow for Veteran’s Day. I borrowed some more Monty Python tapes, “Pulp Fiction,” and what I latter learned to be part 4 in a British mini-series concerning the antarctic explorer Ernest Shackleton, starring Kenneth Branagh and a bus load of angry penguins.
   No mail today. 
   When I got back to my room I cracked open four eggs, put some jalapenos in there, and Colby cheese, and cooked a fine meal in the day room’s microwave.
   I wrote, then watched Quentin Tarantino’s masterpiece “Pulp Fiction,” starring Uma Thurman and a bus load of angry penguins.
   I’m sorry. That’s the other movie. There’s nary a penguin in “Pulp Fiction,” but Rosanna Arquette’s in there, which makes any movie worth while.
   I meditated until one hour before I wished to go to sleep, at which time I watched a Python tape, and sang along to “The Lumberjack Song.” 
   When sleep did come I dreamt I was stranded on a small ice burg with my first girlfriend, a sexy blonde whose family owned the fast food stand on the other side of the L.A. River from my dad’s liquor store in North Hollywood, and Sophie Sweet and Tiffany Rose, the lovely and talented stars of “ALS Video #50: Sophie,” and “European Union 2,” respectively, all three girls originally from Hungry.
   Taking a clue from a bus load of angry penguins, I suggested we huddled together in order to share our collective body heat. The half frozen girls readily agreed, and we huddled and huddled as we drifted off into the sunset.


11  November   Tuesday   Day 122   Veteran’s Day


   Giselle wore a beautiful black sweater and white mini-dress in honor of Veteran’s Day.
   I wore jeans and an old T-shirt, and my knee high black boots (fairies wear boots, you know).
   This was like the third day in a row that I haven’t made it downstairs to sign in before 9:30. It would seem like an easy thing to do, wouldn’t it? Just take the elevator downstairs to the ground floor, go to the front desk, and sign my name.
   I can’t bring myself to do it though. Getting out of bed before 9:30 would be involved.
   After I did manage to get up and showered, I discovered the Weingart staff, and case managers were not celebrating the national holiday and were working today. I had thought that on the day the nation honors those who served it unselfishly in the armed services, everyone would take the day off out of respect, using the time off to contemplate the freedoms that they and their loved ones enjoyed that we protected twenty four seven (including Sundays). But Nnnoooooo! Everybody was here at work! Supervising us as if we were little children.
   This borders on treason.
   I wrote in my room. I tried to find some nice easy listening music on my radio, but all that I could get clearly and without interference were Spanish stations, and as much as I admire Spanish, and Hispanic women in general, and food, I can’t stand 98% of their music. I switched to KMZT and classical.
   11 seconds into 11:00AM, I noticed that the classical music on my radio had muted itself, and the noise on the street disappeared completely. The only sound that I could hear was that of my own breathing. The only feeling I could feel was that of my own heartbeat. 11 seconds later the world returned to normal, and the voice of God left me, moving on towards Hawaii.
   I immediately turned on Venus Hum’s “Soul Slosher,” and began writing again.
   At twelve noon I left for the Needle Exchange on 5th and L.A.. Ron McCree was there handing out multiple vitamins to patrons as they left. I told him I’d be right back and walked to the Rite-Aid on Broadway and bought a paper and a box of microwave popcorn. I returned to the Needle Exchange to wait for them to close at 1:00.
   Ron kept handing out vitamins until that time. He told me he hadn’t been paid yet and had no money. I told him not to worry about, that I would leave a tip.
   The restaurant chain, McCormick and Schmick’s, was honoring veterans in southern California today with it’s 5th annual salute to... veterans. 
   We were allowed to choose from a special veteran’s menu that regular people never get to see, for free. Lunch or dinner.
   Ron and I were going to take them up on their very kind and generous offer. 
   As far as I know McCormick and Schmick’s is the only restaurant that does this, and I for one am sincerely appreciative of their gesture. Not for myself especially, but for those vets who are less fortunate than I am. I know providing these meals must be pretty expensive.
   What would I get from McDonalds today for being a veteran, who protect their ability to do business in America and abroad? McDonalds who thrived in this country, becoming the world’s largest fast food chain, a symbol of American capitalism and independence.
   I’ll tell what we’d get! Not one greasy, puny, little French fry, would come our way. Not a sniff of a Big Mac would we receive. The rough boot stomping on a human face - forever was our gift from McDonalds.
   Now if we could only increase McCormick and Schmick’s example, and declare a national “Homeless Day,” and honor those who brave the mighty and lonely streets, those who are devastated by extreme poverty, hunger, and lack of cosmetics, those who have never seen a McCormick and Schmick’s. That would be a good day.
   At 1:00 we left the Needle Exchange and walked to Ron’s place on Boyd St. Ron asked for and received one of my bags of popcorn. We made a decision to wait until 4:45 to go eat, at which time the dinner menu would be in effect, and which would give me time to try out the Laemmle’s Grande 4 Plex, on S. Figueroa St. that Ron had alerted me to. I wanted to catch the 2:30 showing of “Matrix Revolutions,” Ron and I agreed to meet at the restaurant later in the day. 
   Ron likes to walk, so he showed me where the theater was located, on Figueroa, between 4th and 5th Streets, sunk down below the street level where you couldn’t see it. No wonder it’s existence had escaped me for the almost two years I’d been in the area. The theater does not advertise in the Times, is not listed in the Laemmle Theater section. It’s sunken hole is dwarfed on the north side by the ultra modern Marriott Hotel, and on the south by the massive Westin Bonaventure Hotel, the largest hotel in Los Angeles, where the elevators are on the outside in case of earthquakes.
   The theater was closed. It did not offer matinees during the week, so my plans to see the Matrix movie were unceremoniously squashed, which gave me some unexpected free time.
   We went to McCormick and Schmick’s for lunch. It was located at the base of the Library Tower, the tallest building west of the mighty Mississippi, at 73 stories. Not once during our meal did Ron, or the restaurant’s staff show the slightest bit of distress  or anxiety that hundreds of thousands of tons of steel, glass, and cement where situated just above their heads, posed to come crashing down at the slightest provocation.
   Four menu items were offered on our special Veteran’s menu. I chose the cheeseburger, an American staple, medium rare, with fries. My friend chose fettucini with crab and shrimp. When it arrived he bitched about the size of the crabs and shrimps, wishing he had ordered the cheeseburger as well.
   I smiled inside where he couldn’t see it. My cheeseburger was very good. I dabbed Grey Poupon mustard on every bite, and gave him none.
   The waitress was very nice and I left her a three dollar tip (although 15%, or even 20% of the price of the entire meal would have been $0.00). Ron walked me through the Central Market on the way back. There he bought two cans of beer to bring to his house. I would have made an issue of him having enough money to buy a beer, but not having any to help with the tip, but the point would have been lost on him.
   When he tried to tell me that alcohol was not harmful to those who drank it, I made a stand.
   “Yes it is. It most certainly is. It’s actually a poison,” I said.
   “No it’s not,” he replied.
   “Yes it is.”
   “No it isn’t.”
   “It is.”
   “It is not.”
   “Yes it is.”
   “No it’s not.”
   “Yes it is.”
   “No it is not.”
   “Yes it is.”
   “No.”
   “Yes.”
   “No.”
   “Yes.”
   “No.”
   “Yes.”
   “No.”
   “Yes.”
   “No.”
   “Yes. There is nothing you can say that’s going to make me believe that alcohol does not adversely affect the human body. Or any other body, for that matter. It’s poisonous on a cellular level, and this is one of the very few subjects of which I happen to know something about.”
   “It’s still better for you than those candy bars you’ve been eating,” he said.
   “No it’s not.”
   “Yes it is.”
   “No.”
   “Yes.”
   “No.”
   “Yes.”
   On and on. 
   I returned to my room and watched the Shackleton video. It did not play well on my VCR, and was hard and annoying to follow, but I know now that they all got back from the South Pole safe and sound.
   Jackie Guerrido wore a matching red sweater and miniskirt, also with black knee high boots. You know... fairies wear boots. 
   I also watched reruns of “Married with Children,” and “That 70's Show.” 
   Later I watched the 3:00 to 4:00PM segment of “24,” the third season, in which Kiefer Sutherland is racing against the clock to find a deadly virus. Last season it was a nuclear bomb, the season before that a presidential assassin. All of this occurs within three days. 
   Sutherland’s character. Jack Bauer, needs to get a less stressful job. I mean I’ve had bad days before, but really...
   But where would we be without him. Presidentialess, living in a nuclear wasteland, and sick with the flu.
   Thank God for Jack Bauer.
   On channel 13's 11:00PM news, Lauren Sanchez was wearing a lovely beige jacket and denim miniskirt, sporting a rough cut look at the hem. She was wearing absolutely no boots at all!
   After meditation, I fell asleep and dreamt I was being held hostage by Kelly Bundy and Jackie Burkhart from “That 70's Show.” They were trying to get me to tell them where the virus was, but I wouldn’t do it. They tortured me with feathers and tickles, until I spilled my guts and told them everything they wanted to know. Having got what they wanted they began to squeeze me to death, when at the last second I was rescued by Gina Ryder, the beautiful and talented star of “The Gene Pool,” and many other fine films, and she took me to Vancouver to be... debriefed.
   “Yeah, fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
   Yeah I saw it, I saw it, I tell you no lies
   Yeah Fairies wear boots and you gotta believe me
   I saw it, I saw it with my own two eyes...”


12   November   Wednesday   Day 123


   The maid knocking on a door down the hall woke me, and got me out of bed at 8:30. I rushed to make my room presentable in the unlikely event that she chose to clean it.
   I showered, then gave in to conventionality and signed in downstairs. I said hello to the maid. She said hello back.
   Giselle was wearing pants, and Mark, of Mark and Brian fame, kept asking female listeners if they did it in the “dirty place.” Nepotism was the rule for the day on the show as Kelly’s nephew won the daily contest.   
   I was able to see the lovely and talented Labren Marshall early today, and got two things accomplished at once. I got my weekly session requirement out of the way, and I was able to tell her why I was not able to attend the Super Search Meeting next Thursday, as I had an appointment at the DPSS, right smack dab at 10:00, when Super Search began.
   She took the news well I must say, one might even have surmised she couldn’t have cared less! She was much more concerned with the screw that had detached from her glasses, therefore becoming dysfunctional.
   “Wow,” she said. “I was looking at the computer screen, and one minute it was normal, and the next it jumped out at me.”
   “Really,” I replied. “That used to happen to me all of the time when I was in high school.”
   “It did?”
   “Yeah... but only when I was on acid.”
   I returned to my room and read the paper, then wrote. At one point I was able to get on the Internet using one of the computers in the day room, and reserved computer time at the library, and I checked my E-mail. The daily weather report told me we might have some today.
   It also told me it might rain, so I took the prudent step of taking my umbrella with me when I ventured to the ASAP meeting.
   I stopped at the cafeteria and had lunch with John Clark. I told him I had found a movie theater nearby and planned to go to the movies tonight.
   “Oh, you mean the Laemmle?”
   “Yeah. You knew it was there?”
   “Oh yes. As a matter of fact I used to live close by it, and have gone there for years.”
   “Why don’t they advertise?” I asked.
   “They do. They have ads in the Downtown News.”
   “But not the Times. I looked. Not even in Laemmle’s own section.”
    “Huumm, I don’t know...”
   “And it shows mainstream films, unlike most Laemmle theaters I’ve been to, which are usually kind of art house.”
   “Mainstream?”
   “Yeah. I’m going to see “Matrix Revolutions.” That film’s not playing at any other  Laemmle theater in LA county.”
   “Strange.”
   “Yes.” I thought a moment. I do that sometimes. “I think this may be a renegade Laemmle, one that’s attempting to break it’s corporate bonds.”
   “The black sheep of the Laemmles?”
   “Perhaps that’s what it is. It’s revolting against indie films. That must be it. And the management is trying to keep a low profile by not advertising. Interesting.”
   I walked to the ASAP meeting. The subject of confidentiality came up. Kathy listed those items that counselors were required by law to report to the authorities under the law. Child and elder abuse, violence towards others or one self, nuclear proliferation... not much else.
   “So what happens when your confidentiality is broken,” I asked. “What redress does the patient have? Can they sue?”
   “Yes,” she said. “And you should report it immediately to their governing board.”
   I asked because it had happened to me twice.
   While at the Salvation Army’s Adult Rehabilitation Center in Carpinteria, California, just south of Santa Barbara, my counselor told her boss, the program director, that I had gotten my previous counselor and current girlfriend pregnant. That information had nothing to do with nuclear proliferation, violence, or child or elder abuse, and should have been strictly confidential between the two of us, but she told a third party. That third party, the program director, took it upon himself to tell the center’s administrator, some young dick lick captain. I can’t remember his dick lick name right now, but he was a dick licker for sure. 
   When I asked said program director why he had broken my confidentiality and told the administrator, he said, “I just felt I had too.” 
   “Well I just feel I have to punch you in your dick licking face, you asshole!”
   I didn’t say that, but I should have. And I guess I should have reported these breaches to their governing boards, if I had known that was the appropriate action at the time, which I didn’t. 
   What I did do was get thrown out of the Carpinteria  ARC, which was the administrator’s response to the information he had been given by the program director. He also dismissed my girlfriend, and this action haunted her professional career for many years to come. 
   So much for Salvation Army compassion, and so much for confidentiality!
   Later, when I was established in Camarillo, I wrote to that dick lick captain and threatened to take this case to the media. I never did, but his response to my letter was to ban me from the ARC system for life... so...
   FUCK YOU SALVATION ARMY!
   In December of 2001 I was able to enter the Salvation Army’s Harbor Light facility here in downtown L.A. They didn’t care about the ban because they were a renegade center, trying to distance themselves from their dick lick overlords.
   And that place, Harbor Light, helped me a great deal.
   It made me the man I am today... oh, wait...
   Anyway, at the library, I invested a few dollars printing out some Amnesty International reports on the murders of women in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. I tried to find a link to Sontag’s Impact Program, but couldn’t. I did find a nice picture of Frankie, which I spent 10 cents printing. Not as good looking as I am, but okay.
   It’s nice to be able to see who you’re listening to. For some reason it took a good three minutes for the printer to cough up Frank’s little picture. It just didn’t want to give it up! I don’t know what that implies, if anything, but it was certainly very odd and annoying. 
   I walked across the street to Arco Plaza and the post office, and mailed letters to John Manzano and Odago Corp. As I left the rain began.
   My umbrella worked pretty well until the fabric became saturated, and water began to leak onto my lustrous hair.
   Never buy your umbrella from the 99 Cent Store.
   I had to walk a block and a half out of my way due to street flooding. Traffic was bumper to bumper. Emergency vehicles were slushing about. Mountainous thunder cascaded down from the dreary sky relentlessly. I was lucky to make it back to the Weingart alive (and with my shoes relatively dry).
   Our former president, Bill Clinton, had written me a letter. I didn’t even know he knew where I lived!
   I thought he might have been mad about my dreaming of his wife, but the letter didn’t have anything to do with that. Besides, how would he know.
   No, he just wanted money to help defeat the Republicans in the upcoming elections. I would have given him money too, but I didn’t have any that was allocated towards that purpose, and I didn’t expect to have any anytime soon.
   I did have money for the movies though. I popped one of those bags of microwave popcorn and placed it in my damp backpack, put on a ball cap, and took off down 5th Street toward downtown. 
   It was still raining, but had slowed down considerably. I stopped at the Rite-Aid to buy a Pepsi.
   The Laemmle theater was open today, though no one was at the box office. I had to enter the theater to find someone to take my money from me.
   “The Matrix Revolutions,” is the concluding film in the Matrix trilogy, and featured fantastic special effects, a unique story, and a boat load of black leather. All three movies star the beautiful and talented Carrie Anne Moss, and Monica Bellucci appears in the last two. 
   The brain child of the flying Wachowski  brothers, Andy and Larry, the movie solves a problem created in the second film, but ignores, or delays the primary dilemma described in the first, so it’s all kind of a cheat. But I enjoyed it very much and was glad that I went (or else I’d want my money back for all three movies). 
   There are a few intrinsic problems with these movies.  Canoe Reeves  and Carrie are not the most emotive actors I’ve ever seen, and it was hard to feel the great love they professed for each other. Indeed, the two actors didn’t seem to share much chemistry at all. And one of the major cast members passed away between the filming of the 2nd and 3rd movie. But what can you do? Instead of ignoring that fact and plunging ahead as is done in television, a plausible explanation was provided for a change in actors. In the end I felt satisfied.
   But I liked the first film best.
   I returned to the Weingart. The rain had reduced itself to a drizzle. No more thunder. No more lightening. No more gremlins.
   I listened to the Buddhist tapes John had loaned to me until the speakers monotonous voice began to awaken within me my violent nature. At that point I wrote, and watched Charlie Rose interview a photographer who took pictures of decomposing bodies.
   I made a vow to myself, not for the first time, that all of the bullshit in my life that I cause, well, it ends now.
   I didn’t go to sleep until 6:00AM, or so. But when I did I dreamt that the lovely and talented actress, Sherilyn Fenn, of “Twin Peaks,” and “Of Mice and Men,” fame, after showing her prowess with manipulating cherry stems, asked me to chose between a blue pill or a red one. 
   She told me, “You take the blue pill and the story ends.  You wake in your bed and you believe whatever you want to believe.”
   I looked at her expectantly.
   “You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.”
   I reached out.
   “Remember that all I am offering is the truth.  Nothing more.”
   I swallowed the red pill and my journey began.