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“One of the effects of living with electronic information is that we live habitually in a state of information overload.”                                                      
                                                                                      Marshall McLuhan
So, let’s review:
Man is a thinking animal.
Stanley Kubrick took us to space to get us to think.
Marshall McLuhan:  “There are no passengers on spaceship earth. We are all crew.”
Hemetucky: what was I thinking?
The Rapture for the 1%:   The Language of the World and The Language of Enthusiasm explains why Sir Richard  Branson’s ****** Galactic will only be taking the richest among us to space.
Ian (Limey Futurologist) Pearson:  “Binary is already the dominant language on Planet Earth with today’s machines having more conversations in 24 hours than the whole of humankind since the birth of Eve.”
Larry Flynt:  “**** is the answer to everything.”
Goofy:  “Yeah, I ****** Minnie. I shagged her rotten, baby!”  
Winston Smith:  “Do it to Julia!”
McNugget Buddies:   “Parts is parts.”                                          
Stunod: “Donuts-a -spella backwards issa stunod.” Think about it.
Tony Soprano.  “You ****** stunod, it's a joke.” (Stunod:  in southern dialect Italian means stupid, or a stupid person) http://(www.urbandictionary.com) define.php?term = stunod  / buy stunod mugs & shirts
Marshall McLuhan:    “Jokes are grievances.”
Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino:  “Antonio Gramsci thought that Stalin and Bolshevism could save him and Italy from Fascism:  stunod.”
The Cloud:  My acceptance of the Cloud into my life and my changeling cyborg self is by no means a capitulation to the surfing life.
Paulo Coehlo:  “The God you seek; that someone who awaits you is you.”
Howard Beale:  “That’s the God *******.”
God:   “Because you’re on television, stunod!”
The Elders of Zion:  Nu?
Meir Kahane:  “Let us not suffer from a national amnesia that causes us to forget who and what we are. No trait is more justified than revenge in the right time and place. I know that American and Israeli elections must be limited only to those who understand that the Arabs are the deadly enemy of the Jewish state, who would bring on us a slow Auschwitz - not with gas, but with knives and hatchets. Vote for Newt!”

**** Jagger:    “Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out” (40th Anniversary Edition, Rolling Stones)
Keith Richards +Fijian palm tree = Stunod.  
Marshall McLuhan:   “The more the data banks record about each of us, the less we exist.”    
Howard Beale: “If there's anybody out there that can look around this demented slaughterhouse of a world we live in and tell me that man is a noble creature, believe me: That man is not only full of *******, that man is  stunod.”
The Nam, Part I:   a demented slaughterhouse within a microcosm and grains of beach sand inside micro-Cosmo Kramer’s shorts. When I was in the Kingdom of The Nam I was always under the influence of some drug, mostly my own pure adrenaline when scared shitless--a frequent condition for me—not only my own piquant adrenal juice but other stuff like ****, hash, Thai stick, *****, amphetamines, H-Horse ******, quaaludes, horse tranquilizers and Russian *****. The drugs were always a welcome and needed friend, a respite from the horrors of war in Southeast Asia. To meditate & levitate, to transmigrate & navigate, to negotiate & regurgitate myself, I needed a head start if I was going to SLIDE through what would be called a wormhole today, making a three-dimensional movement between different parallel universes, a conquest of time and space. Cue our favorite narrator:
Rod Serling:  “You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension--a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into the Twilight Zone.”
WWII, Part I:  A slider now, I SLIDE to my father’s war—the War in Europe in the years before V.E. Day, May 8, 1945. Suddenly I’m flipped right out of the jungle to Germania, to Deutschland in the winter of 1945. I am a P.O.W. of the Germans, sent out into the economy as slave labor. It’s February in Dresden, Germany, the Baroque capital of the German state of Saxony, the city called lovingly by her (****!) many lovers: “The Florence of the Elbe.” It was a long time ago, during the war and I Survived to Tell the Tale. I am a wet floppy Kilgore Trout; I’ve flopped right out of the Twilight Zone into what appears to be an underground meat locker in Dresden. There are animal carcasses hanging from the ceiling and the building is known as Slaughterhouse Number 5. I am a lucky ******* because even though I don’t know it yet, I’m in the safest place in the entire city. Cue the Bombing of Dresden, a strategic military bombing by the British Royal Air Force (RAF) and the United States Army Air Force (USAAF).  In four raids, 1,300 heavy bombers dropped more than 3,900 tons of high-explosive bombs and incendiary devices on Dresden. The resulting firestorm destroyed 15 square miles (39 square kilometers) of the city centre and killed many thousands, according to **** figures-- largely discredited by the victors who not only get the spoils but get to spin the history any which way but loose. Casualty figures were 200,000 and death toll estimates went as high as 500,000. Or maybe just 25,000 total, if you believe the ******* Anglo-American valkyries who unleashed the wrath of Khan’s Smoking Joe’s Barbecue Ribs and Hotlinks. Win a war, get a medal and a seat in Congress, maybe the White House; lose a war, get indicted. You’re going to Nuremberg, pilgrim, or the ******* Hague.
Kurt Vonnegut: “World War II was over and I was standing in the middle of Times Square with a Purple Heart on and a purple hard-on.”
Colonel Kurtz:  “We fight for the land that's under our feet, the gold that's in our hands, women that worship the power in our *****.  I summon fire from the sky. Do you know what it is to be a white man who can summon fire from the sky? ...What it means? You can live and die for these things, not silly ideals that are always betrayed  . . . I swallowed a bug. Who are you, captain?”
Willard:   “Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste. I've been around for a long long year, stolen many man's soul and faith. Stuck around St. Petersburg when I saw it was a time for a change. Killed the Tsar and his ministers, Anastasia screamed in vain. I rode a tank, held a gen'rals rank when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank. Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.”  
WWII, Part II:  The bombing of Dresden had to have been some kind of a violation of some International Code or Geneva Convention. But, of course, the bombers, the Victors, ran the Nuremberg show trials. The bombees didn’t get a chance to say much, didn’t want to make a fuss, seeing how generous the Army of Occupation was with their coal, gasoline, clothing and food handouts. But I was there when it was safe to climb out of the meat locker, and immediately got put to work on the après les bombes clean-up. I was there doing the ***** work, a corpse miner, tasked with collecting the fried grasshopper remains of so many unlucky Krauts who were simply burned alive, like heretics at the Inquisition. So it goes.
William Tecumseh Sherman: “War is Hell, Babaloo!”
Colonel Kilgore: “You can either surf, or you can fight!”
Sam Bottoms: “I dropped a tab of acid at the Do-Long Bridge, so I think I’ll surf for awhile: ‘I see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour.’ Reading Blake: for years it was the only way I could block out the war, that and losing myself in a bunch of undercover assignments. Yeah, it was William Blake, I-Spy and lots more acid; that how I dealt with PTSD.”
The Nam, Part II, LT DAN:  “Good job, trooper; those ******* drugs got you coming and going, sliding so fast you’ve missed latrine duty 3 times this month. Now go get 5 gallons of diesel fuel and gasoline, mix it together and torch that ******* feces, soldier.”
** Chi Minh:  “This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no fooling around.”
***** Friedman:   “The Democrats and Republicans are the same guy admiring himself in the mirror.”

Muhammad Hosni El Sayed Mubarak:   “Vote for Pedro.”
Drew Gilpin Faust, Harvard:    “Fight Fiercely!”
Marshall McLuhan:    “I wouldn’t have seen it if I hadn’t believed it.”
The Author:   I am a disaffected angry old man, formerly a disaffected angry young man; a Hopi-Italian Jew with Chinese offspring, namely my left-brained son, a mathematical genius but having a tough time dealing with idiots, the many truly stunod people in the world.  Then there’s my Rose, my sweet King Lear-jet daughter, like her half-brother, not yet finished paying for my sins. My offspring are haunted, visited upon daily by their father’s  ghosts, ghosts created, ghosts hovering over me, from wars hot and cold and peace lukewarm and cloudy, like the uranium ground contamination on the mesa, visited upon mothers and infants  and children who seek only a glass of cool water from the spring not to be glow worms in the dark, leukocytes made insane by something in the water. My sins, a father’s sins; things I did to curry favor, to ingratiate and advance myself with the 1%, things I did to get ahead in life, to get what I thought my father and others in the ancestral slipstream had failed to get, twice to the Rabbi for a get (Hebrew: גט‎, plural gittin גיטין), to get the edge my kids need now, the edge I never had, and life reduced to an exercise in ultimate combat, little more than a cage fight, man against man and God against all. The things I did for money and position shame me now. And shame is a large  source of my anger.  I will remain angry. I will hang on to my anger at God and myself and all who have been disappointed in me, by me, especially the cavalcade of short-term caretakers, women used, abused, left behind and forgotten. Why am I me? Sometimes I think that’s the way I’m programmed. But it’s okay, like Gaga: “I'm beautiful in my way 'Cause God makes no mistakes I'm on the right track, baby I was born this way' Cause God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track, baby, I was born this way and will I continue to surf the Cloud: even though God is dead and I don’t believe you, or me, or them.
Basic: remember Basic?

10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30   GOTO 10
10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30  GOTO 10
10   A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 20
20   START STEP TWO ANGER KUBLER-ROSS INFINITE LOOP
30 A IS FOR ANGER NEXT 30
30  GOTO 10 Ad infinitum
James Fate Oct 2013
when I was younger
I got into staring contests
with the sunset
despite dire warnings
I challenged him

I thought I would live forever back then
or maybe I just wanted him
to blink
out
before I did

I fear death

I grew up a Christian
reading about Narnia
and there was one man
after escaping ten years of living
in a nightmare
as relief from his waking horror
he was given the gift of sleep
without dreams
forever
now
as well as then
I struggle to comprehend
how this was a reward

to fall asleep
and never dream
and never wake
this is death as far as we can tell

in my childhood
this was the only exposure I had
to the idea of VOID

and now it yawns wide open
at the feet of this newly formed atheist
and I am afraid

‘I never asked to be born in the first place’
-Last words of Adolf ******
(per Kilgore trout
(per Kurt Vonnegut Jr.))

the sunset is deep deep orange
and summer is fading
from green
to red and yellow
then to brown
then to white

I’m thinking of Christmas
watching a hawk fly
silhouetted against
the now hot pink clouds
to the sound of cicadas
and a whisper
of moist and cooling air

winter is hard to get through

then again
so is summer

the sky above me is the shade of lavender
I fell in love with
when I couldn’t find anyone
who loved me back

I was taking a bus trip from December
to late spring
everyone else was asleep
and I watched the sun rise
through palm trees and ferns

if the afterlife is composed
of floating through my time in this life
Tralfamadorian Heaven
I will be content

I am living now
This was written more as a way of working some thoughts out than as a poem. I like it though, so I'm putting it up here anyway. 'Tralfamadorian Heaven' is a reference to Slaughterhouse-Five, by the way. There's a fair amount of Vonnegut in this one. Hope you like it. :)
Vicki Kilgore Aug 2018
Just what on earth do you really gain?
By inflicting and causing so much pain.

Oh, how it breaks your momma’s heart,
To see you acting a fool not being smart.

Dope, alcohol, and popping pills,
You seek them all for cheap thrills.

Thugs for friends are your family now,
To be like them and throw in the towel.

Life on the street they make look so neat,
Your belly rumbles and can’t sleep for lack of meat.

Hungry and jobless leaves you to steal,
From hardworking people with weapons you conceal.

Wait! Where are they all at now you do scream?
Did they run away when locked up or is it a dream?

Before the judge in the courtroom you look around,
None of your so called **** family are found.

Who is that praying and wiping a tear?
How can my momma still love me so dear?

Cards and letters I get but a few,
Prayers from momma on starting anew.

How Jesus died on a cross for my sin,
He spared my life by placing me in the pen.

In my reply to her letter I did write,
Sweet momma on my knees I pray each night.

Thanking Him for loving me enough to sacrifice His life,
And forgiveness for stabbing a man with a knife.

I have given my life to The Lord up high,
And momma I will see you in Heaven when I die.

Vicki L. Kilgore 9/5/15
Vicki Kilgore Aug 2018
Beautiful is not a word this world would use to describe me,
But you see God sent His only Begotten Son to die on a tree.

Because He found me worthy of His love not by sight,
But because He knew my heart was true and bright.

People can be so cruel with words their mouths do spout,
Making us feel so ugly, unloved, and lonely inside and out.

Do not let what worldly human beings do or say,
Lead your path, for they will only keep you astray.

Building themselves up at your expense,
Straddling they are a very dangerous fence.

For God says it’s better to be cold or hot,
Lukewarm in Heaven He will know you not.

Look not in the mirror but pray in your heart,
That others see Jesus in you not just the outer part.

He was not alone that day at Calvary you see,
I was with Him when He shed His blood for me.

Forgiven of all my sins before I was ever born,
Worthy of His love with each piercing thorn.

Sticks and stones may break my bones into,
But unkind words will help me turn away from you.

We can all be a Blessing to others with Godly love,
It is His desire to someday see us together above.

So before anger, jealousy, and hate you speak,
Get on your knees and let it be Jesus you seek.

Know the damage a cruel word can create,
May just be your inescapable adverse fate.

Forgive them Father for they know not what they do,
Is my daily prayer for this broken world and you!

Vicki L Kilgore 9/4/15
Vicki Kilgore Aug 2018
Why is my grandma still alive at ninety-seven,
Some days it seems she is only eleven.

Why did you trust me with her care,
Bathing, dressing, and combing her hair.

What is it here on earth she has left to do,
Could it be that she wants more time with me and you?

Bringing her to our humble home got protective services called.
Upon their investigation even they were appalled.

That a family member would even dare,
Seeing how much love we wanted to share.

You see some hearts grow very cold,
Toward those who have become old.

Put her in a nursing home on the governments dime,
We shall visit her on holidays and from time to time.

Feeble and weak they are of no use,
To those who took for granted, was simply abuse.

She cannot babysit, clean, or cook,
But she still loves to read a book.

Her mind is as sharp as a tack,
It is only her strength that she does lack.

Thank You Lord for my daddy on earth,
That loves his momma and knows her worth.

In me he instilled family values and love,
To cherish all the Blessing from above.

In his care I know she would be,
But years of hard work he is paying the fee.

He did his best to pay someone well,
So that at home she could always dwell.

But a fall and a hit to the head,
The doctors announced soon she would be dead.

Forty-seven weeks later she is still here,
Thanks to all the ones who lifted a prayer.

It was always her family she took such care,
Watching her with strangers I could not bare.

Thank You Lord for such a small part,
I will always treasure it deep in my heart.

Guide and direct me in the days ahead,
As she spends more time sleeping in bed.

Give me wisdom to comfort her too,
On the days she seems down and blue.

Strength to help get her from bed to chair,
for another fall she fears and cannot fair.

Thank You Lord for my husband so dear,
For his help, support, love, and calming all fear.

Our house is simple and very small,
But the love inside is wall to wall.

The laughter we share being shot by her toy gun,
Nothing can compare it is so much fun.

Each day with her is a blessing from above,
The memories we are making fills us with love.

When you come to take her from this earth,
Heaven bound we are assured by her salvation and rebirth.

Oh what a void we all shall feel,
Don’t take a day for granted for she is with us still.

It’s not the challenge of caring for her that I fear,
But the regrets of missing out on someone so dear.

Some days are really really good,
Other days we struggle with a bad mood.

One thing I can say without a doubt,
Regrets I will have none because I did not miss out.

Vicki L Kilgore: written July 22, 2015
In memory of my Grandma Drucilla Bishop
Nov. 23rd 1917 to Feb. 2nd 2016
Vicki Kilgore Aug 2018
Some of the most beautiful women I know,
Are full of kindness and have a gentle soul.

The world says you have to be a model sort,
So you feel viewed as ugly, fat, thin, tall, or short.

These beautiful women I speak of have hearts of gold,
And a love that could never ever be bought or sold.

My wish for you all during the upcoming year,
Is you see your beauty we all love so dear.

Your worth is not based on height, weight, or looks,
Can’t be changed in a beauty shop or by reading books.

You do without so that others may have more,
Even when you are tired, weak, and feeling poor.

The world without you would be dark and cold,
True beauty is in those of you with hearts of gold.

Thank you for touching my life with a hug or smile,
For taking the time and always going that extra mile.

I love and cherish you all just as you are,
Beauty comes from within and yours is the best by far.

Vicki L Kilgore Dec. 22nd 2017

Proverbs 31:30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised.
Vicki Kilgore Jun 2020
I cried today without shedding a tear,
because weakness you did not need to fear.
It was for you I knew I had to be strong,
please understand my list is long.

If you feel all alone and nobody gives a care,
try to carry burdens others struggle to bare.
Nobody is perfect and can do it all wrong,
please understand my list is long.

I want to visit and show love to all in need,
time is not always on my side to do the deed.
I wake with good intentions trying to be strong,
please understand my list is long.

Spread so thin and no time for myself,
I put all my needs at the bottom of a shelf.
Bouncing place to place I feel like a ping pong,
please understand my list is long.

Being apart does not mean I am not there,
Thoughts and prayers, I can do from anywhere.
It is in my heart where you will always belong,
please understand my list is long.

Love and Hugs….Vicki L Kilgore

— The End —