CHAPTER ONE

My geographic movements during the past year could be called “A Tale of Two Couches.” So as June draws to a close, I assume the position here again on Couch California. I am back in Hemet, the place the smug among us call Hemetucky--as if there was nothing a couple of Mint Juleps and a **** of Blue Grass wouldn’t cure. It is the year of our Lord, 2014: so far an interesting year for women. There was a woman who wore socks to bed. There was always my long-time, here today-gone tomorrow, long time companion, currently teaching somewhere remote on the Big Rez, a southwestern Navajo concentration camp near the 4 Corners.  Next, there’s my current object of affection, that fine and frisky lady from The Bronx by way of Bernalillo--currently at home in Laguna Beach, Orange County. Trixie: my main squeeze at the moment.

And now, completely out of the ******* blue this afternoon, my cell phone rings and it’s ******* Juanita--my all-time favorite woman, Juanita Mi Favorita de La Quinta--a Coachella Valley town and desert wadi, extending its lucrative winter tourist season to become a significant, year-round retirement venue and a robust service economy feeding off it.  Juanita arrived there in the late 80s, in middle of her early forties.  She was unemployed, homeless, just a suitcase to her name and a two-year old toddler in tow. Her parents were there, as was her Aunt Peggy.  Juanita was always Peggy’s favorite niece, her favorite child, actually, Peggy herself being childless, never married.  Aunt Peggy put her maternal instincts to work on Juanita Rodriguez, her Sister Rosalia’s second favorite twin daughter.

Maria, Rosalia’s first favorite daughter, Juanita’s twin sister—MARIA: lives in Newport Beach and acts as an extra in many commercial ads shot in southern California and elsewhere, an irony never without sting for Juanita. “Que lastima!” Poor Juanita: as her would-be Hollywood Movie star aspirations disintegrated over the years, along with her unrealized lower expectations to be TV star, and even those semi-glamorous modeling gigs at trade shows and fairs—the elephant’s graveyard of the acting profession—failed to materialize, and now her celebrity habitat shrunken even further, to that sporadic but consistent mockery of stardom, I refer to any would-be thespian’s ignominious one-celled visual protozoan: The Extra Call List.  And—*******-- what happens next? Juanita’s sister Maria starts getting these parts, starts getting hired by filling out a ******* postcard, starts getting paid to look good in the background. *******: no professional education or instruction, no agent, and no need to **** off both the producer, the producer’s cousin Morey, the director and the director’s wife’s huge Golden retriever, Genghis--actually a mighty handsome animal--or needing to spill $4K on that Derma-brasion, Juanita inflicted on herself last year.

Juanita, as you already know, was the second favorite daughter and the second favorite twin of the family. She became the third favorite child in her three-child family upon the arrival of her slick baby brother Nico-- the Golden Child, who grew up to be a glib Merrill-Lynch stockbroker, office and residence, Beverly Hills 90112.  (Enter forcefully into the narrative, His Nibs himself, Sir Nicodemus of Hollywood, Juanita and Maria’s baby brother Nico. He speaks: “Excuse me, stockbroker my ***, as it says in a 11 point Rockwell Boldfont, right here on my gold-leaf embossed business card: Senior Large Capital Investment Counselor.”)

No, Juanita had a hard time just treading water in that Cleveland shark tank. And though she lacked nothing in the cuteness department, she had this one fatal flaw, namely, the gift of ***** and sass and a reflex to speak truth to power. Juanita: rejected by Rosalia as a threat to her hegemony as Boss of the Girl’s Club, was cast adrift on a tempestuous childhood cruel Montserrat sea, out there on the briny deep . . .  
                

                                      



High Seas: where many a tuna has a Sorry Charlie moment: “Star-Kist don’t want no tuna with good taste; Star-Kist wants a tuna that tastes good.”

Finally, Juanita is rescued, taken aboard the Good/Soul Aunt Peggy—that wayward bark Elisabeta Rodriguez, home-ported in Southside, Chicago, Illinois—the rescue at sea performed in classy, rather low-key manner; no Andrea Doria drama, but understated:

{Camera One, Helicopter above, zooms over turbulent ocean surface. Peggy, an oasis of calm, aboard the raft Kon Tiki with Thor Heyerdahl and his crew, floats by, whispering, “Going my way, Honey? Climb aboard. Have a homemade oatmeal cookie and a small glass tumbler of Jack Daniels.” Okay, no, that’s not fair. Sure Aunt Peggy drank, but never got round to offering you a drink until you were well into your 30s. Let’s just say she offered you a warm glass of milk, the mother’s milk deprived you by your mother, her sister Rosalia. Dear Aunt Peggy: a seasoned survivor herself, flawed by early childhood deafness and grotesque speech.  Yet, she had refused to settle for life in an asylum. She made a go at life.  She learned; she prospered; she flourished. And when the time came, she was there for you in the Coachella Desert, there for her feisty niece Juanita Ann.  Aunt Peggy: a loving spirit personified, became Juanita’s special confidant and counselor, her personal cheer squad of one. Juanita, of course, a former cheerleader herself--an early hint of greatness to be sure, a highlight, perhaps the highlight of her life, shown off every Halloween, still celebrated at American high schools each Fall. She is the Principal’s secretary at a huge suburban high school in Indio. Each Halloween, if the date falls on a school day, Juanita arrives for work wearing that scrupulously preserved, vintage 1966 cheerleader uniform, looking real foxy still, snug now in all the right places. Eternal Truth: Juanita has always and will always be good looking. Life with Juanita is perpetual “ooh la-la.”

So, I am on the couch that afternoon, reading more of Gramsci’s prison notebooks, specifically the philosophy he calls “Praxis.”  Completely out of the ******* blue, Juanita calls me on a RESTRICTED phone, as I said, Juanita, a torch I’ve kept burning for years, flaring up like a refinery flame--oil still very much in the present energy mix--hope springing eternal as they say, and instantly my mission in life is rekindling our lost love. Juanita’s conceived her mission prior to her phone call:  using me to keep her son from being whacked by the local Eme--the Mexican Mafia—that ethnic-pride social club that the RICO-squad-- using family tree socio-grams and other expensively-printed graphics, the one RICO keeps trying to convince us is some sort of organized crime conspiracy. The Mexican Mafia: like everything else practical and utilitarian in this world: THAT’S ITALIAN! And, if you are starting to sense a bit of ethnic chauvinism on, between & below the lines, you are barking up the right tree.
                                                           ­     
      
                                                            
(AUTHOR’S POST-SCRIPT EDIT: And, an ad for dog food right here? Not the best choice of sponsors, perhaps, at the moment. Juanita was far off from the ****** ***** that start looking not half-bad at 2:30 in the glazy morning, not anywhere near those beasts you find lingering in the airport bars you usually frequent near closing time on Saturday nights. No, I remind you that Juanita was all “ooh la-la.” In my next printing—and my Lord, there have been so many, haven’t there, Paulie “Eat-a-Bag-of-****” Muldoon? I will change out the Alpo ad, plugging in a spot for Aunt Jemima pancake syrup or Betty Crocker whipped cream, you know, something more apropos.)

Juanita, I really must hand it to you. You showed the greatest staying power, year after year as I moved further and further away from La Quinta, California. Juanita: you embraced what was good in me, ignored my flaws and strengthened me with your love for so many years. As far as you and Peggy, I guess it was a case of the “apple not falling far from the tree” one of many endearing Midwestern metaphors you taught me.  Peggy taught you, taught you to be kind and then you taught me. No matter what bizarre venue I pulled out of my ***, you showed above-average staying power, continued to visit me wherever I went, Casa Grande & Buckeye, Arizona, Appalachia, West Virginia, and even Italy, when I thought I’d try Europe again after so many years.  With each move, each time, Juanita renewed her commitment to the relationship. Meanwhile, I continued to test her, quantifying her dedication, undermining her sense of mission to disprove my worldview on the expendability of women. Surely, you know that one: the unreliability of women, women who disappear without saying goodbye. That old deeply etched conviction to never get attached to a woman, any woman, based on the empirical fact that women have been known to suddenly die, a fact seared into my still tender metal by the surprise death of my mother on 11 January 1962.

1962. It was already an insecure world, to wit:  The Cuban Missile Crisis. Nikita Khrushchev, in his time both Dr. No and Dr. Evil, namely the Premier whom we Baby Boomers saw as Boogey Man of All Time (Although Putin is showing potential, lately)—the Kennedy ****** (what else could you call it?). All these events scary, whether or not I got the chronology right . . . I remained on high alert for any threat to my delicate adolescent psyche.  My mother-Rosa Teresa Sekaquaptewa-died at 2 o’clock in the morning, screaming in agony while apologizing to my father for not having his dinner on the table when he walked in from work that prior afternoon. She’d already been in bed since noon, attended by two of my aunts--both my father’s sisters--who loved their Hopi sister-in-law, Rosa.  Also present was Lafcadio Smirnoff, M.D.--last of the house call medicine men--a dapper, mustachioed, swarthy gentleman, misdiagnosing her abdominal pain as a 24-hour virus, while she bled out internally for at least eight more hours, her whimpers alternated with screams, well into the wee hours of the morning.

I was upstairs in that dormer bedroom listening to her die. An hour later, Father Numb-nuts of Our Lady of Lourdes Parish teleported in, beaming directly into my bedroom from the parish rectory.  Father Seamus Numb-nuts, an illuminated Burning Bush . . . not quite the bush I ‘d conjured at other times, so many times alone with Gwen Wong, ******* Playmate of the Year, 1961, one of Hefner’s hot centerfolds. No, give me a ******* break, you momo! Whacking off is the last thing on a libidinous, adolescent guinea’s brain when his mama is being tortured and killed by God. Even Alexander Portnoy, Philip Roth’s early avatar would have drawn the wanking line at that unforgettable moment.

No, perhaps what I’d had in mind was The Burning Bush Golf Course where so much of Fletcher Kneble’s political mischief and government shenanigans got cooked up. You remember his books, some of the Cold War’s finest: Seven Days in May, Vanished, etc.

Or better yet, perhaps the greatest political slogan of the 20th century: “STAY OUT THE BUSHES!” Thank you, Jesse. “Thank you, Reverend Jackson,” I slip into my Excellence in Broadcasting mode, my very own private Limbaugh. Announcing my on- air arrival is El Rushbo’s unmistakable, totally recognizable bass line bumper, courtesy of Chrissie Hynde’s Pretenders band mate, guitarist Tony Butler: Dum, dum, dum-dum, Da-dum, dum-dum-dum-dum-da-dum-dum. Single, “My City Was Gone” by The Pretenders
Rush Limbaugh Song– YouTube www.youtube.com/watch?v=SScW9r0y3c4

I become Reverend Jackson. I emerge from the vapors, an obscure abyss of deep family pangs and disappointments, ever-diminishing public relevance and fade to black (no pun intended) and media oblivion. The only thing left is that line:  “STAY OUT THE BUSHES!” You will always own that line, Jesse--true political genius (to wit: Rainbow Coalition) Jackson that you are, despite El Rush-Bo’s virulent anti-Black animus, his predilection to mock you, Al Sharpton, Corey Booker, Barack “Hussein” Obama, and any other professional ***** in America. Isn’t it time someone came right out and tagged Mr. Limbaugh as the Father Coughlin of our time.

Meanwhile back in The Bronx, enter another man of the cloth:  It’s Seamus Numb-nuts, making one of his many well-documented spectral visitations, his splendiferous miracles and wonders. How much longer will the Vatican ignore this humble Bronx priest, this epitome of Sainthood; this reverent man, lacking only the stigmata for a unanimous consent vote? Quote the Numb-nuts: “God Works in Mysterious Ways.” An old standard to be sure, but a lovely, all-purpose bromide for explaining why evil exists in our world. Needless to say, I was underwhelmed; I lost God at that moment, consequently shooting myself in the foot--metaphorically-speaking-condemning myself to an unshielded life, life OUT THE BUSHES!  I went forth into the world without God, without that handy divine crutch, that Andy Devine metaphor for when one’s legs grow weary: a puff of smoke, a reverb twang and a nasty frog croaking “Hi-ya, Kids. Hi-ya, Hi-ya. Hi-ya.”

   Andy's Gang - Pasta Fazooli vs. Froggy the Gremlin - YouTube
► 3:55► 3:55
www.youtube.com/watch?v=H35odPm7b3w Aug 8, 2012 - Uploaded by jmgilsinger
Froggy the Gremlin -Tuba ... Andy Devine (Aug 24, 1952)

Life for me became lonely and purposeless. And probably explains my susceptibility to military discipline and a subsequent career in clandestine government service. In 1968--the very day I turned nineteen, September 25th of that year—that fateful day when I should have shot myself in the foot—literally not metaphorically--earning that coveted 4-F physical rejection, a draft deferment to be desired, that 4-F classification of unfitness for duty, a necessary loophole in U.S. conscript service law.  The Draft: last used during that great commonwealth Cold War purge, that culling out of the unwashed, uneducated children of immigrants, that cut-rate, discount, lower socio-economic ***** bank—the only bank where after you make a deposit, you lose interest, to wit: most Black, Hispanic and Poor White Trash parents.  We were cannon fodder, many of us got to be planted at Arlington and other holy American shrines, still wrapped in black or olive drab leak-proof body bags, doing our generational bit to strengthen the gene pool left behind. A debt, some would say, we owed the country and, given the sorry state of the global wicket, increasingly an obligation to the species. And if I had to predict an outcome, Fascism in America will arrive riding the white horse of the environmental, anti-nuclear Bolsheviks. One could argue that Communism has moved so far left on the political spectrum that it’s now the far right.  Concoct a legislative policy goal, accomplish it legally as the bill becomes Law, signed by the President, endorsed and blessed by The U.S. Supreme Court, the highest court in the land.

To wit: “Three generations of imbeciles is enough?” declared Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., an Associate Supreme Court Justice at the time, buttressing a majority argument harnessing the power of U.S. law as a legal means of purifying the race.  When euthanasia failed to win over American hearts and mind, the Federal Government played the war card again and again. Vietnam: undeclared and therefore unconstitutional--except for that Gulf of Tonkin ******* resolution. Vietnam: a cost-plus eugenics project, if ever there was one, although responsive, of course, to the needs of the Military-Industrial Complex.  ******* Ike: he warned us against Fascism in America. As usual, we ignored the man in charge.

Eugenics? Why didn’t the government just put all the retards on the stand, as John Frankenheimer did in Judgment at Nuremberg, a crafty Maximilian Schell humiliating a feeble-minded Montgomery Clift?  Why not, make everyone face a public tribunal, forcing all of us to testify in court, exposing our many substandard and borderline substandard cerebral deficits?  Why not force everyone to demonstrate just how ******* dumb we are, using some clever intelligence test, something l

There’s a lot to be said for this place.
A near-perfect pitch for diversity,
Diversity:  a neurolinguistic term;
A quaint way to say: miscegenation.
No, just kidding; I meant the melting ***,
A fine blend of Anglo, Hispanic & Indian blood—
That’s Pueblo & Plains Indian blood--
Not that **** masala, chapati & dal Indian blood.
My apologies to "Who's the White Guy?" Bobby Jindal.
New Mexico: “The Land of Enchantment.”
Where 310 sunny days per annum,
Are like money in the bank, earning
Double-plus compound interest for those
Suffering with seasonal affective disorders.
A land of sunshine without the orange juice,
But substitute chili, red or green?
An equitable offset to be sure.
310 days of sunshine:
Even the white people are brown here.
Which does a lot for my self-esteem.
Back east—New York, Chicago & Philadelphia e.g.—
People that look like me, i.e.,
People with dark brown hair, eyes and skin,
Get stopped/***-cheek spread/& frisked, routinely.
Stop & Frisk: NYPD’s spectator sport for decades.
Stop & Frisk: Mayor Bloomberg-defended
Crime-stopping Godsend,
Getting guns off the streets.
Getting homicides down.
Everything’s cool until some slick race baiter,
Starts yelling:  RACIAL PROFILING.
Forget for a moment that people that look like me,
People like me with dark hair, eyes & skin,
Commit 78% of the crime in most cities.
“It’s not racially driven profiling,”
Said Newark’s police director recently
Referring to stops carried out by his officers.
“IT’S CRIME-DRIVEN PROFILING!”
But, again, political-correctness trumps common sense:
August 2013: Judge Rules NYPD
Stop-and-Frisk Unconstitutional.

Well I’ll be a monkey’s *** ******!
I moved to New Mexico to blend in.
My complexion a shoe-in for
The Witness Protection Program or
Any other public or private,
Domestic or international rendition site.
But I digress.
New Mexico: no passport necessary, Babaloo!
New Mexico: be you white or black, Hispanic or Indian,
Or even Roswell extraterrestrial,
The cops here will beat the **** out of you.
Or shoot you dead, Kemosabe.

Y'know the last cat I had wasn't even my cat,
  he was the neighbour's cat
Yea! He defected... came over to our house
My neighbours they had a holiday home down the country
  and used visit it often on the weekends
So the poor cat would be left behind at home
  and he'd get lonely
So he'd come out to us, and he liked us so
  much
We used give him a great reception
He'd get so much love and attention, nice
  food as well
That he decided to stay with us rather than
  go back home
We even bought him one of those nice furry
  little cathouse bed type things
Put it out in the garage and he'd sleep there.

But whose cat was he now then, was he ours
  or was he still theirs
Did they still have a claim on him
Or was it up to him to choose,
You know it could have caused a
  Constitutional Crisis
Could have gone to Court
Who had ownership of the cat
Could have been a real tug of love affair
A bit like that film what's it's name...Kramer
  vs Kramer
Luckily the neighbours though they didn't
  seem to mind that much.

Of course, the punchline to all this was, one day my Dad was out visiting
  my neighbours next door
When who should he see lying there on the sofa looking very contented
  and very much at home
Yea! You guessed it.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking
Yea exactly! I bet the cat...our cat the Defector
He was probably a Double Agent all along.

There are so many things wrong in this world,
If the constitution no longer has any effect on
The many kinds of laws that can be set in motion, can
We again vote against white/black marriage, for one?
Do you take the pieces of the puzzle and leave out
The ones that offend the common folk, even if it
Means forgetting about the right to the pursuit of
Happiness for ALL? Not just you and your "straight"
Drones who always do as their told?
We'll keep pretending that the rules don't apply,
If it's ruled unconstitutional, they'd still put it
Up for law, as if the constitution doesn't have
Or hold any sway on what is a decent choice for all.

Why not vote this country as appealing to the commoner,
Why not make it a place where only the rich are served,
Why not make cameras that fly and can remove any privacy,
Why not try and keep Mexicans and Muslims out again,
Why not bring guns and children closer, who cares,
Why not endorse psych drugs and throw caution to the wind,
Why not make bombs big enough to end the world.

This is the America we already know today...

I.

My blood was glistening meteor glows after
        the modern jazz I spent all night trying
        to carve into genius.

Hanging on the the blue notes of
        saxophones like a madman hooked to
        his syringe, and then you petrified me...

But I began to shake.

The spirit of all my ballads has returned to
        me at last.

Dug yourself out of my past, into the
        bedroom thought fractures — I call
        them modern art — but plugged into
        your Dada spirit, the abstract turns into
        star clusters,

And I'm burning for that cosmic wishing well.

Just hoping for your radiation to spread over
         our lightyear gap, that gap that always
         made coexistence so impossible.

When Calliope calls,
     I'd advise anyone answer...
      But you're twice as golden
       And thrice as red
         As Calliope has ever been.

Torn in your sandstorm.
Blinded by this vision of your second  
        coming.

Back in one piece, one whole, one complete
        consciousness, and all after I tried my
        damnedest to rip you apart, poetically.

Only in reflection and confrontation did I see
        how wrong it all felt.

That is not poetry
There was no peace.
That does not spawn Justice,
And you did not warrant my contempt.

I idolize you for you are what I am not.
I am mesmerized as we are exactly the
        same.

II.

The things you do not know.

I must have started typing you fifty times,
        never hitting send since my dark
        Crispin's Night.
I never hit send.
Not once.
I built imaginary worlds where you were my
        abuser, with my loneliness a
        pawn, but a crucial one.
Those thoughts that latched on to the back
        corners of my insecurity, and reassured
        me I was void of worth most every
        night...
I turned those thoughts into you—
Spilled those ******* thoughts into reality,
        and it took your shot of venom to place
        it all back into perspective.

If you're wondering what I've been up to
        since you left, my calendar hasn't
        hasn't moved a single page.

III.

The mythos never told me that Erato could
        address me back—
Muse that I pray on.
Muse that I mull over with Whitman.

I take this chance to lift you up, as you've
        been floating me over this rural skyline
        for months now.
Let me see the city.
I only wish to live.
I see governments toppled in the tint of your
        face, with the lights low, the air quite
        heavy for me.
You had to feel like a Goddess,
Even your distant screams had your mark of
        perfection.

IV.

You're the one I envy.

Dozing off under the anger of conservative
         politicians talking about life...
Erato, darling, what do these guys know
         about life anyway?
To lie as profession
Lie for the masses
Lie for the wealth of corporations
Lie for self-justification
Lie for the war effort
Lie for the public spectacle that can be
        reduced to little more than fetus magic.

I'd rather be haunted by anything else.

Emigration sounds so lucrative.

V.

It's time to cut open the system.

I wish society, when cut open and guts
        hanging, strung up in a gallery, looked
        like the spirit of a Scrabble screaming
        match, less like estimations of
        "necessary" civilian casualties.

It's time to piece in your abstraction.

Let's flip the script from faith-lit sketchbook
        into reality.
Let's show the world the graces of speaking
        in comedy, the asset we lost when we fell dark under our lack of communication.

Blessed to reestablish what we cannot take for granted.

Iris bonfire to highlight your drive,
But it's only determination,
Your gift of beatitude.

You can move through mazes with such precision and grace.

I should have never let my admiration pull me under a tide of greed.

As much as I value the ability
        to cut away at masses of abstraction,
Still covered in their vague seal of illusion
        you don't condone,
I'd submit to trade for even a bit of your  
        structure,
And let you have the absinthe that coats my
        soul.

VI.

Drink on how we are in harmony.

I'm already drunk on your hesitance.

Everything about your being is skewing my world.

I feel the changes, while the cold sets in,  
        across their javelin flight path.

These aren't the kind of thoughts you can't
        damp down with epilepsy medication.

I'm nearing clarity.
I'm inching in on human purpose.

VII.

I locked you away on my nightstand,

Next to Jailbird, in great irony.

I never let you argue your rights.

I wasn't just being inhumane, it was
        borderline unconstitutional.

Anger from hate, as always.
Coping in flawed fashion, yet smiling at your
        likeness.
Condemning you at public displays of
        Satantic litany,
Fell broken when you were in attendance.

Never again will I carry that false prophecy.

I couldn't escape your sway if I tried.

Because nothing says democracy more
                        Than sending off the daughters of the poor
                        To die for Raytheon and General Dynamics

And for the President, whose manly sons
Shoot animals dead with their great big guns

But when the the bullets, bombs, and shells are raining
Those brave lads won’t be found in basic training

Since when it comes to the generals’ slaughter
They’ll send to her death your little daughter

And when the generalissimos yell “Go!”
Our Merovingian Congress won’t say “No”

They fight the wars with perks and private jets
As do their beribboned flag-rank house pets

And so our daughters are the harvest yield
That must forever rot in some foreign field 1

As for our leaders’ daughters, don’t be so hard -
Someone’s got to sun-bathe in Harvard Yard







1 cf. “The Soldier,” Rupert Brooke

You cringeworthy, evil pismire;
Your father did surely miss-sire
This personification of flatulence,
The embodiment of self importance
Overflowing with abject peccancy
Devoid of any sign of respectability
Replete with gross odoriferousness
Horribly and infamously unscrupulous.

You have reveled in misrepresentation
And tried to elevate your calumniation
Disinformation and deception exists
As capitalistic dissembling persists.
You’ve collected an evil government
Built mostly of human excrement
And have such a lack of veracity
That you speak in constant mendacity.

Sycophantic eructations of dogmatic bile
Issue from your unsympathetic smile
And your inauthentic glad-handed gropes
As if we all of us are unbright gullible dopes
That buy your fabrications completely
While you pilfer and prevaricate indiscreetly.
You are a Vaudevillian villain miscast as star,
But most of us know exactly what you are.

Deceit, deception, dishonesty; a tragedy
But not for you, for us and our country.
Distortion, evasion and fabrication the rules;
You despair of any other kinds of tools.
Falsehoods, fictions and forgery are your tricks.
You demand we build with straw-less bricks
Your erections that are planned to be palaces
Filled with your giant golden carved phalluses.

Those monuments, inanotomically correct,
Established to celebrate and somehow protect
A mountebank on the way to an overseas bank
Claiming to eradicate the scoria he creates
That decades of privation will not quite alleviate.
But you, the Great Prevaricator, will always blame
Other players in your sick, unconstitutional game
Instead of admitting your complicity and guilt
About the disgusting, putrid swamp you built.

And for those of you who don’t
Find Trump to be pernicious,
He shows his *** to one and all,
I hope you find it is delicious.
For those of you who lived in
Dream castles of foolish hope
You have backed an evil man
A charlatan and a dope.

If you tried hard and long
You could not have done worse
And that is the reason for
This neener neener verse.
I can’t think how he could
Have warned you any better.
He promised things intelligence
Could discredit by the letter.

He said he would do stuff
So totally unconstitutional,
That made the rich richer,
And proved you were delusional
To trust a total ripoff guy
Who has been cheating for years.
Why did you think this fool
Would allay any of your fears?

But still you all waved high
His stupid Chinese-made hats;
Bought him gold and diamond studs
For his brand new fancy spats.
And now he’s in the Capitol
Laughing at all of you dolts
YOU gave him weapons to use on you
Instead of a thousand volts.

In the early 21st century this is when time
really started to go backwards and the attack on the constitution laid the foundation for the TeA pArTY,
and other corporate fascists. Too much to the right our
nation starts" GOOSE STEPPING".


And Uncle Sam sat on a very narrow
conservative wall.
And the King of heartless ( Bush ) ordered,
" OFF WITH YOUR HEAD" without just cause to a sandy
world of black-gold.
And all three nations were written up as
the Axis of "Jabberwockey".
And Wonderland's scared caterpillar colored red, orange,and so on, sat upon an imagined poison mushroom cloud.
And Tweedly Dee; Teedly Rummy,
gave quick cheap armor ( of course to fight some of the Jabberwockey) from a quickened "Rummy Dummy",
the slam dunker.
And the MAD HATER of people went
DUCK -YOUR -HEAD oil haunting
And "Cheshire Cat smiles ( Bush again ) was taken
at phony opts.
And we majority of Alices tried
making sense of this new "Wonderland" as Constitutional,
law backers were considered bad-and in mirror reversable-
so too International Law backers.
And good was this unconstitutional
main war-knight  (Bush again ) always WORD bumbling,
war stumbling, falling and failing off his Trojan horse.
And still us Alices are in this-now current-perpetual
land of MIRRORED-IMAGE-REVERSAL.
Tune in next time for our great escape
from this forcefully adopted land of horrid wonder.
Maybe if we tapped our shoes three times...Oops wrong tale.

Love You/Love Me

I know why I love you
love you, love you.
I know why you love me,
love me, love me.
Remembering the day we first met,
your smile, blue eyes, and hair of brunette.
Had you laughing all long night,
it was love at first sight.
Your body smooth and thin,
you have the perfect skin.
No one is more beautiful,
what we do is unconstitutional.
You make me happy in my pants,
every night, we do the slam dance.
Found out why I love you,
love you, love you.
Found out why you love me,
love me, love me.
No one thought we'd last this long,
hey baby, we sure proved them wrong.
We're like two peas in a pod,
when we touch, it's a lighting rod.
We will never break apart,
we both know this, in our heart.
Our love is so very strong,
it's more on than Donkey Kong.
Loving that I love you,
love you, love you.
Loving that you love me,
love me, love.

You can find me in my room
My refuge in a home
I have lived in for too long

Eating my bowl of hamhock soup with beans
Recording Churchill's speeches on my iphone
What a good man he was

We must stand up to evil
Stand up to those who threaten liberal democracies

But in America today
Our greatest enemy lies within, not without

Our own government not holding fast
To the principles upon which it was founded

False illusions that this economic situation
Is under control

Like bailouts,stimulus packages, jobs bills,
Regulation in industry, unconstitutional power grabs,
Dismissal of historical laws, changes in the legislative process
And changes in checks and balaces of power

We have a false sense of security
Big government is hurting us
Not helping us

TSA pat downs
NSA privacy intrusions

Destabilazation
Over arching centralized government model
Begins to take control

A New World Order
Is what they have planned
No more national sovereignty

I'm not going to the FEMA camp

You can find me in my room
My refuge in a home
I have lived in for too long

Eating my bowl of hamhock soup with beans
Recording Churchill's speeches on my iphone
What a good man he was

We must stand up to evil
Stand up to those who threaten liberal democracies

But in America today
Our greatest enemy lies within, not without

Our own government not holding fast
To the principles upon which it was founded

False illusions that this economic situation
Is under control

Like bailouts,stimulus packages, jobs bills,
Regulation in industry, unconstitutional power grabs,
Dismissal of historical laws, changes in the legislative process
And changes in checks and balaces of power

We have a false sense of security
Big government is hurting us
Not helping us

TSA pat downs
NSA privacy intrusions

Destabilazation
Over arching centralized government model
Begins to take control

A New World Order
Is what they have planned
No more national sovereignty

I'm not going to the FEMA camp

you cut open my core and threw my insides at the walls
with all of your indecencies and heedless galaxies
that i'd try to explore, but you kept closed, and gravity;
my feet on the ground as they should be,
as musicians and stupid poets like me
dedicate promises we're positive don't change how you love.

and i figure you to be my supernova.

this abominable disaster you've caused transformed me into
the ink blots splattered and messy and unconstitutional cracks
in the ceiling that we think to fix but never quite have enough spackle.
and i'm **** at sewing, but you force me to stitch myself back
together for days and weeks until i said,
"i want you out of my life"
even though we both knew i was lying and desperate to feel
something because ****** romantics like me
want hermia and lysander,
not demetrius and helena.

and we can't think without the noise of each other and the
constant loose ends that fray,
and time and time again imissyouimissyouimissyou.

and my silence, your silence is the loudest heartbreak i know,
and beethoven never had these problems because he could feel
and he knew that fire and hearts do not mix,
and neither should deceit,
but pretty boy you tore out my heart with burning hands and kept
it in your back pocket with all the others,
and i never said otherwise because at least i was something to you
even if our hearts beat to different drums,
and explosions,
and cracked ribs that you'd like to take because my heart wasn't enough and you needed pieces of me to make yourself feel whole.

and i wish i was a little more selfish because i'm stuck with a
carcass of my old self and the buzzards don't care of the
shell i am now; made up of frozen sno cones, and your eyes.

You can find me in my room
My refuge in a home
I have lived in for too long

Eating my bowl of hamhock soup with beans
Recording Churchill's speeches on my iphone
What a good man he was

We must stand up to evil
Stand up to those who threaten liberal democracies

But in America today
Our greatest enemy lies within, not without

Our own government not holding fast
To the principles upon which it was founded

False illusions that this economic situation
Is under control

Like bailouts,stimulus packages, jobs bills,
Regulation in industry, unconstitutional power grabs,
Dismissal of historical laws, changes in the legislative process
And changes in checks and balaces of power

We have a false sense of security
Big government is hurting us
Not helping us

TSA pat downs
NSA privacy intrusions

Destabilazation
Over arching centralized government model
Begins to take control

A New World Order
Is what they have planned
No more national sovereignty

I'm not going to the FEMA camp

Snowday, too, on top of the Monday Fed Holiday.

Nations are minds made up. Agreements, elders made
with all they made believe.

Let's pretend, after seven decades, we are children,
let us spout off about absolutes and insoluble angst,

natural, in unconstitutional retyings of the national
spirit,
we
the
people most exceptionalistly educated and ---

Confuse, confuse muse and music?
Magnification and magic, majesty and jest, me?

My first thought on waking, or reaction acknowledging,
science, if any thing is sharp, it was made to become so.

Crystal vision, any reader in this medium has,
an attainment,
merit worn
by knowing
words hold
thoughts and thoughts occur in superstringy gnosisnot.

I got a little book,
A LifeLog I've put
All the aggregated data I can collect.
I buy up every market share I can get
And run my little freak simulations
Where I stimulate all of life
Because I'm such a ******* coward
And obsessed with control.

What started small
Now extends to everyone
Without a concern for your privacy,
In ways wholly unconstitutional.

Hold tight to that illusion of freedom
Like the quilted lies
That, drip from your fingertips
And throw them into the
Darkness behind you
like the fabricated illusion
Of our own prosperity.
Where wrapped in others
Silken words of misconstrusion
our people lie in wait
Ready to cross walls
They cannot hope to break down.
Our land of the free is priced in expletives
Spoken brassly on shining screens
As falsified information pours out of
It,s limelights.
There are family trees burned to cinders.
Half off of your freedom!
New sale here!
Just pay everything you own,
And your family ties and voila,
Here you are in our free priced land of the free,
Your worth decided by your face,
Your speech, the hard won calluses
On your hands, open in a useless
Sign of peace
Where the homes of the brave
Hold vacant signs and empty people
Shells of what they used to be,
Standing in as the 2 by 4 support beams.
Send your sequin sympathies
To those with the money to pay for them,
To watch you twirl on stage spouting
Shakespearean lines of unfelt empathy
Attempting to assuage the audience
And pass off inequality as the new normal
The power play goes on
The curtains close on one more act of
Unconstitutional proportions
The audience
Unknowing
Applauds

Drowning sensations encircled my mind and swallowed every ray of hope I had of seeing you.
My doubts spoke but never loud enough to choke out the messages I read from you at night.
And no matter how many times you said I love you I could never trust a single one till the last time you said it.
And your goodbyes stung the hardest the moments after you left.
Because I could never register them.
I could never forgive myself for blaming everything on the world and you.
And you were my reason for wanting, to begin with.
I had never wanted
Longed
Benignity
Wistfully
Felt entitled to anything in my life as Much as your love.
And every breath I took added seconds away from the day it'd all be taken away from me.
We both counted down the moon cycles like tiny thumb tacks falling off your moms favorite poster until it cascaded into the ground and she stopped hanging it up.
We were put out to dry because our egos were more of a monster than our imagination at bedtime.
And darling your monsters were always heavier than mine, but at least you had the strength to keep them at bay.
Unlike all the times you watched mine escape.
And because of that I'll never forget that chapter of my life where we argued into the night and scowered our never ending library of mistakes we had marked as UNCONSTITUTIONAL TO THIS LOVE BANK OF AGREEMENTS we never signed.
So I left the dotted lines.
And the ink from all the pens in our house dried.
As your lips parted from mine and I sighed, knowing this would be our last goodbyes.
And I finally saw your demons that night.
Just like how you always put up with mine.
And they were beautiful.
Because they all looked like you.
And I'll always treasure that memory of how we came to thrive off eachothers being.
And how late late at night years after our fighting and constant mood killings and mood swings.
I called you.
Knowing there was always a piece residing in you
That was mine.
I love you.
Goodnight

Joseph Lister {for whom Listerine is named} stressed the importance of frequent hand-washing. He was ostracized for it by his colleagues & the learned priests of medicine. It's no wonder that 95,000 Americans die yearly from easily-preventable-hospital-borne staph infections. Most environmentalists claim "atheism" as their Faith. By definition homosexuality is a *******. What then are those who practice it: teamsters? I've spent enough money on my teeth to buy a helicopter, and not one of those cheesy ones that "local action eye-witness news" uses. It's a baffling world to put it mildly. There are concepts that transcend Man's meager abilities. As in all things we, as fallible people, need to practice humility.
  I'm not religious and I understand that no orthodoxy is free of some hypocrisy. I have never derided religion. The fact that there's a netherworld is irrefutable as I have experienced it following the negligent {suffocation} death of my ex-wife's 6-month-old daughter. We have free-will and our consciences to guide us. "Let your conscience be your guide," has merit. I don't follow the precepts of any church including Darwin's. All are free to take great consolation in the ignorance of your ancestors concerning sanitation, I don't. For the childless anything goes. Lip-service to hedonism is currently fashionable. *** amongst consenting adults, even within a family, is normal. There shall be no moral-absolutes. Rational people lost this Republic when bench law blest aborticide.  500,000 plastic, stackable coffins, each capable of holding 3 cadavers, each designed  for the crematory ovens sit awaiting their grisly disposition off Lions Club Road in Madison, Georgia {Greater Atlanta} on land leased to F.E.M.A.
Thomas Woodrow Wilson sent 168,000 soldiers to the great beyond for nothing in his Great War to end great wars. Warren Harding was poisoned in August of 1923 for rejecting Wilson's imperialism. Lincoln waged an unconstitutional war to centralize a once-voluntary federation. Conspiracies rule the world and fill the prisons. Mussolini and his girlfriend were hung by the heals and their cadavers dismembered.

The following crafted
approximately midway
into the administration
of forty fifth president,
whose crass, gutsy, lewd,
repulsive yawping finds
him squarely poised to
nab the nomination as
Republican front runner
come the 2024 election.

The overstuffed ego freezer
(yes him with the coiffed
windblown hair has been making,
sans daily) regular appearance
in the news oval
hate gambling arrogance
vis a vis spewing,
shouting, and scathing rabidly
foaming explosive handy
claptrap in ascendance,
asserting how incredibly
tremendous collusion between
CIA, FBI and media

(must warrants revocation,
hence heroic intervention,
and emergency das
Pence sing balance
of security fabled
clearances Aesop - Asap)
hounds engaged "brilliance"
in (community) chance
of making an very
usual fool of himself,
viz the "FAKE"

trumpeting dapper Don
expostulating the latest ploy,
raging against the machine
i.e. entire popular culture
will get their comeuppance
being so freely outspoken,
a disgraceful unconstitutional defiance
which oh press
sieve act of deviance
spluttered, thus an extreme

measure to clamp down
on all news outlets,
and immediate disappearance
all the while poor
Melania stoically, objectionably
and lamentably stands
right alongside him,
(nonetheless nonverbally
metaphorically exhibiting
vitriolic livid rage)

as he rancorously spouts
(ala VERY) convincing impression
of la va reenactment qua,
Krakatoa volcanic disturbance
lambasting utter disgraceful disservice
(foxy Dis Putin
commercial stations construe, conspire,
conjure egregious collusion
outlets asper dominance
a pugilistic ringside fan loathsomely

(re: scowling non verbally),
wherein pejorative spectators whether
(moral less minority, and/or
majority whips lashing) weather being
subsequently splashed by
LXXII spittle aged
perspiring ogre) with exuberance
(like some voodoo freelance
sing hexed indigo gurl goo goo doll,
a villainous venal mummified

rattle trap declaring forbiddance
from this moment forward grievance
fomented by via triple threat
to American democracy
sans, intransigence, insouciance, ignorance,
thus taking recourse upon the heads
of "stupid" journalists forcing hand
toward "losers" who spread lies,
hence president signs issuance
analogous to lance

sing (via strong trumpeting arm),
a yuge bigly boil saying believe me
(meaning him - ***** in chief)
asseverating the congressional,
global, and orbital
bulwark acting with noncompliance
necessitating entire military
industrial complex arsenal
heavily reinforced (at
the expense of every social,
governmental, environmental, etc cetera

to manage unruly populace
with mandatory diktat decreeing obeisance
with non dodging demagoguery
huff ford ding auto-da-fé fiat ordinance
this platform to guarantee overdominance,
when November 2020 election
for forty sixth president
takes place with poignance
when courtesy hindsight
transition to Biden administration
punctuated by insurrection.

When I witnessed capital one rebellion
slack jaw froze mine countenance
when eyes blinded with figurative
daggers asper mistakes in original draft,
hence...this flood proof, fire resistant,
and fever reducing error free version.

Yes...yes...yes, this rhyme
resembles a recent one of mine
from a previous time,
yet appropriating wands zone writing  
haint no crime -
at least not yet.

Okay bull heave me you,
at this moment
alm completely unaware
what the a muse zing
genie of poetic
inspiration will bring
possibly shelving what Calliope
holds in store for me,
meanwhile now
with impatience itching

visa vis to discover
what this Earthling,
(albeit modest) will be amazingly
graced with pizazz, meanwhile aye fling
haphazardly, indiscriminately,
and jocosely blitz
krieg feebly attempting
to contrive ingeniousness emits
poetic prestidigitation in fits
and starts, sans "FAKE" wits

as this humble
human imperceptibly orbitz
around mister Sun,
(which about bajillion years
from now suddenly quits)
shining foisting misery,
where Nyx knocks
(paddy whack give
my dog a bone...) divinely,
knowingly and spiritedly visits

(believe me you) this trumpeting
stupid ***** loser
forever doth taint
after this moment
(no need tubby saint
lee and suppress any quaint
gut wrenching chortle)
at what ain't
no farce), nor literary feint
yours truly painfully,

sorrowfully, and verily avers,
he now lacks fire and fury
(as if nettled and docked by burrs)
nonetheless, which ambition
dust hanker mink thinks furs,
and foremost (Tom
morrow i.e. purrs
sues tha owl mighty,
where fame posthumously spurs

me amidst pantheon
of great writers
which dream dashed
into a million,
(no...no...no...not
bajillion this instance,
though good guess) pieces
abysmal silence replacing
(palimpsest like),
mine over active imagination whirs.

life changes
for good or for bad it strangles
the life out of you
until you're sick of it
too much from the media too much from the press
the battle between trump and korea
it's giving me a headache and too much stress
just stop it
never knowing if you're gonna hear a bomb siren today or the next
it's too much stress
too much of a mess
like the earbuds you put in your pocket and cant untangle
it's useless to try and fix it, you'll only make it worse
life changes
and a new school shooting everyday
it's a sensitive topic
we pray for their families but never do anything to stop it
just stop it
you're making it worse
it physically hurts
to see you say you'll stop it
but never do anything when you see a kid getting bullied
just stop it
when will you learn
it's not the gun that pulls the trigger
and if it was
and you ban guns
the problem will get bigger
just like drugs people always will find a way
when we live life in a hellhole
and deem our brothers and sisters unconstitutional
just stop it
life changes
we split up our own families
with these stupid political parties
just stop it
George Washingtons farewells speech warned
we didnt follow his advice
so our nation was torn
we didnt do nothing useful
but put our friends behind bars
Abe Lincoln said it
a house divided on it self cannot stand and it'll crumple like its made of cards
man just stop it
life changes
it aint fun for us
think of the kids
think of the future that they have to live in
the air they have to breathe in
the bitter hatred they have to deal with
we aint doing nothing to help our nation
so what are we doing

No License Necessary

Americas Assembly - Blogs

March 7, 2022

U.S. SUPREME COURT AND OTHER HIGH COURT CITATIONS PROVING THAT NO LICENSE IS NECESSARY  

“The right of a citizen to travel upon the public highways and to transport his property thereon, by horsedrawn carriage, wagon, or automobile, is not a mere privilege which may be permitted or prohibited at will, but a common right which he has under his right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Under this constitutional guaranty one may, therefore, under normal conditions, travel at his inclination along the public highways or in public places, and while conducting himself in an orderly and decent manner, neither interfering with nor disturbing another’s rights, he will be protected, not only in his person, but in his safe conduct.”

Thompson v.Smith, 154 SE 579, 11 American Jurisprudence, Constitutional Law, section 329, page 1135 “The right of the Citizen to travel upon the public highways and to transport his property thereon, in the ordinary course of life and business, is a common right which he has under the right to enjoy life and liberty, to acquire and possess property, and to pursue happiness and safety. It includes the right, in so doing, to use the ordinary and usual conveyances of the day, and under the existing modes of travel, includes the right to drive a horse drawn carriage or wagon thereon or to operate an automobile thereon, for the usual and ordinary purpose of life and business.”

Thompson vs. Smith, supra.; Teche Lines vs. Danforth, Miss., 12 S.2d 784 “… the right of the citizen to drive on a public street with freedom from police interference… is a fundamental constitutional right” -

White, 97 Cal.App.3d.141, 158 Cal.Rptr. 562, 566-67 (1979) “citizens have a right to drive upon the public streets of the District of Columbia or any other city absent a constitutionally sound reason for limiting their access.”

Caneisha Mills v. D.C. 2009 “The use of the automobile as a necessary adjunct to the earning of a livelihood in modern life requires us in the interest of realism to conclude that the RIGHT to use an automobile on the public highways partakes of the nature of a liberty within the meaning of the Constitutional guarantees. . .”

Berberian v. Lussier (1958) 139 A2d 869, 872, See also: Schecter v. Killingsworth, 380 P.2d 136, 140; 93 Ariz. 273 (1963). “The right to operate a motor vehicle [an automobile] upon the public streets and highways is not a mere privilege. It is a right of liberty, the enjoyment of which is protected by the guarantees of the federal and state constitutions.”

Adams v. City of Pocatello, 416 P.2d 46, 48; 91 Idaho 99 (1966). “A traveler has an equal right to employ an automobile as a means of transportation and to occupy the public highways with other vehicles in common use.”

Campbell v. Walker, 78 Atl. 601, 603, 2 Boyce (Del.) 41. “The owner of an automobile has the same right as the owner of other vehicles to use the highway,* * * A traveler on foot has the same right to the use of the public highways as an automobile or any other vehicle.”

Simeone v. Lindsay, 65 Atl. 778, 779; Hannigan v. Wright, 63 Atl. 234, 236. “The RIGHT of the citizen to DRIVE on the public street with freedom from police interference, unless he is engaged in suspicious conduct associated in some manner with criminality is a FUNDAMENTAL CONSTITUTIONAL RIGHT which must be protected by the courts.”

People v. Horton 14 Cal. App. 3rd 667 (1971) “The right to make use of an automobile as a vehicle of travel long the highways of the state, is no longer an open question. The owners thereof have the same rights in the roads and streets as the drivers of horses or those riding a bicycle or traveling in some other vehicle.”

House v. Cramer, 112 N.W. 3; 134 Iowa 374; Farnsworth v. Tampa Electric Co. 57 So. 233, 237, 62 Fla. 166. “The automobile may be used with safety to others users of the highway, and in its proper use upon the highways there is an equal right with the users of other vehicles properly upon the highways. The law recognizes such right of use upon general principles.

Brinkman v Pacholike, 84 N.E. 762, 764, 41 Ind. App. 662, 666. “The law does not denounce motor carriages, as such, on public ways. They have an equal right with other vehicles in common use to occupy the streets and roads. It is improper to say that the driver of the horse has rights in the roads superior to the driver of the automobile. Both have the right to use the easement.”

Indiana Springs Co. v. Brown, 165 Ind. 465, 468. U.S. Supreme Court says No License Necessary To Drive Automobile On Public Highways/Streets No License Is Necessary Copy and Share Freely YHVH.name 2 2 “A highway is a public way open and free to any one who has occasion to pass along it on foot or with any kind of vehicle.” Schlesinger v. City of Atlanta, 129 S.E. 861, 867, 161 Ga. 148, 159;

Holland v. Shackelford, 137 S.E. 2d 298, 304, 220 Ga. 104; Stavola v. Palmer, 73 A.2d 831, 838, 136 Conn. 670 “There can be no question of the right of automobile owners to occupy and use the public streets of cities, or highways in the rural districts.”

Liebrecht v. Crandall, 126 N.W. 69, 110 Minn. 454, 456 “The word ‘automobile’ connotes a pleasure vehicle designed for the transportation of persons on highways.”

American Mutual Liability Ins. Co., vs. Chaput, 60 A.2d 118, 120; 95 NH 200 Motor Vehicle: 18 USC Part 1 Chapter 2 section 31 definitions: “(6) Motor vehicle. – The term “motor vehicle” means every description of carriage or other contrivance propelled or drawn by mechanical power and used for commercial purposes on the highways…” 10) The term “used for commercial purposes” means the carriage of persons or property for any fare, fee, rate, charge or other consideration, or directly or indirectly in connection with any business, or other undertaking intended for profit. “A motor vehicle or automobile for hire is a motor vehicle, other than an automobile stage, used for the transportation of persons for which remuneration is received.”

International Motor Transit Co. vs. Seattle, 251 P. 120 The term ‘motor vehicle’ is different and broader than the word ‘automobile.’”

City of Dayton vs. DeBrosse, 23 NE.2d 647, 650; 62 Ohio App. 232 “Thus self-driven vehicles are classified according to the use to which they are put rather than according to the means by which they are propelled” – Ex Parte Hoffert, 148 NW 20 ”

The Supreme Court, in Arthur v. Morgan, 112 U.S. 495, 5 S.Ct. 241, 28 L.Ed. 825, held that carriages were properly classified as household effects, and we see no reason that automobiles should not be similarly disposed of.”

Hillhouse v United States, 152 F. 163, 164 (2nd Cir. 1907). “…a citizen has the right to travel upon the public highways and to transport his property thereon…”

State vs. Johnson, 243 P. 1073; Cummins vs. Homes, 155 P. 171; Packard vs. Banton, 44 S.Ct. 256; Hadfield vs. Lundin, 98 Wash 516, Willis vs. Buck, 263 P. l 982;

Barney vs. Board of Railroad Commissioners, 17 P.2d 82 “The use of the highways for the purpose of travel and transportation is not a mere privilege, but a common and fundamental Right of which the public and the individual cannot be rightfully deprived.”

Chicago Motor Coach vs. Chicago, 169 NE 22; Ligare vs. Chicago, 28 NE 934; Boon vs. Clark, 214 SSW 607; 25 Am.Jur. (1st) Highways Sect.163 “the right of the Citizen to travel upon the highway and to transport his property thereon in the ordinary course of life and business… is the usual and ordinary right of the Citizen, a right common to all.” –

Ex Parte Dickey, (Dickey vs. Davis), 85 SE 781 “Every Citizen has an unalienable RIGHT to make use of the public highways of the state; every Citizen has full freedom to travel from place to place in the enjoyment of life and liberty.”
People v. Nothaus, 147 Colo. 210. “No State government entity has the power to allow or deny passage on the highways, byways, nor waterways… transporting his vehicles and personal property for either recreation or business, but by being subject only to local regulation i.e., safety, caution, traffic lights, speed limits, etc. Travel is not a privilege requiring licensing, vehicle registration, or forced insurances.”

Chicago Coach Co. v. City of Chicago, 337 Ill. 200, 169 N.E. 22. “Traffic infractions are not a crime.”

People v. Battle “Persons faced with an unconstitutional licensing law which purports to require a license as a prerequisite to exercise of right… may ignore the law and engage with impunity in exercise of such right.”

Shuttlesworth v. Birmingham 394 U.S. 147 (1969). U.S. Supreme Court says No License Necessary To Drive Automobile On Public Highways/Streets No License Is Necessary Copy and Share Freely YHVH.name 3 “The word ‘operator’ shall not include any person who solely transports his own property and who transports no persons or property for hire or compensation.”

Statutes at Large California Chapter 412 p.83 “Highways are for the use of the traveling public, and all have the right to use them in a reasonable and proper manner; the use thereof is an inalienable right of every citizen.” Escobedo v. State 35 C2d 870 in 8 Cal Jur 3d p.27 “RIGHT — A legal RIGHT, a constitutional RIGHT means a RIGHT protected by the law, by the constitution, but government does not create the idea of RIGHT or original RIGHTS; it acknowledges them. . . “ Bouvier’s Law Dictionary, 1914, p. 2961. “Those who have the right to do something cannot be licensed for what they already have right to do as such license would be meaningless.”

City of Chicago v Collins 51 NE 907, 910. “A license means leave to do a thing which the licensor could prevent.”

Blatz Brewing Co. v. Collins, 160 P.2d 37, 39; 69 Cal. A. 2d 639. “The object of a license is to confer a right or power, which does not exist without it.”

Payne v. Massey (19__) 196 SW 2nd 493, 145 Tex 273. “The court makes it clear that a license relates to qualifications to engage in profession, business, trade or calling; thus, when merely traveling without compensation or profit, outside of business enterprise or adventure with the corporate state, no license is required of the natural individual traveling for personal business, pleasure and transportation.”

Wingfield v. Fielder 2d Ca. 3d 213 (1972). “If [state] officials construe a vague statute unconstitutionally, the citizen may take them at their word, and act on the assumption that the statute is void.” –

Shuttlesworth v. Birmingham 394 U.S. 147 (1969). “With regard particularly to the U.S. Constitution, it is elementary that a Right secured or protected by that document cannot be overthrown or impaired by any state police authority.”

Donnolly vs. Union Sewer Pipe Co., 184 US 540; Lafarier vs. Grand Trunk R.R. Co., 24 A. 848; O’Neil vs. Providence Amusement Co., 108 A. 887. “The right to travel (called the right of free ingress to other states, and egress from them) is so fundamental that it appears in the Articles of Confederation, which governed our society before the Constitution.”

(Paul v. Virginia). “[T]he right to travel freely from State to State … is a right broadly assertable against private interference as well as governmental action. Like the right of association, it is a virtually unconditional personal right, guaranteed by the Constitution to us all.” (U.S. Supreme Court,

Shapiro v. Thompson). EDGERTON, Chief Judge: “Iron curtains have no place in a free world. …’Undoubtedly the right of locomotion, the right to remove from one place to another according to inclination, is an attribute of personal liberty, and the right, ordinarily, of free transit from or through the territory of any State is a right secured by the Constitution.’

Williams v. Fears, 179 U.S. 270, 274, 21 S.Ct. 128, 45 L.Ed. 186. “Our nation has thrived on the principle that, outside areas of plainly harmful conduct, every American is left to shape his own life as he thinks best, do what he pleases, go where he pleases.” Id., at 197.

Kent vs. Dulles see Vestal, Freedom of Movement, 41 Iowa L.Rev. 6, 13—14. “The validity of restrictions on the freedom of movement of particular individuals, both substantively and procedurally, is precisely the sort of matter that is the peculiar domain of the courts.” Comment, 61 Yale L.J. at page 187. “a person detained for an investigatory stop can be questioned but is “not obliged to answer, answers may not be compelled, and refusal to answer furnishes no basis for an arrest.”Justice White, Hiibel “Automobiles have the right to use the highways of the State on an equal footing with other vehicles.”

Cumberland Telephone. & Telegraph Co. v Yeiser 141 Kentucy 15. “Each citizen has the absolute right to choose for himself the mode of conveyance he desires, whether it be by wagon or carriage, by horse, motor or electric car, or by bicycle, or astride of a horse, subject to the sole condition that he will observe all those requirements that are known as the law of the road.”

Swift v City of Topeka, 43 U.S. Supreme Court says No License Necessary To Drive Automobile On Public Highways/Streets No License Is Necessary Copy and Share Freely YHVH.name 4 Kansas 671, 674. The Supreme Court said in U.S. v Mersky (1960) 361 U.S. 431: An administrative regulation, of course, is not a “statute.” A traveler on foot has the same right to use of the public highway as an automobile or any other vehicle.

Cecchi v. Lindsay, 75 Atl. 376, 377, 1 Boyce (Del.) 185. Automotive vehicles are lawful means of conveyance and have equal rights upon the streets with horses and carriages.

Chicago Coach Co. v. City of Chicago, 337 Ill. 200, 205; See also: Christy v. Elliot, 216 Ill. 31; Ward v. Meredith, 202 Ill. 66; Shinkle v. McCullough, 116 Ky. 960; Butler v. Cabe, 116 Ark. 26, 28-29. …automobiles are lawful vehicles and have equal rights on the highways with horses and carriages. Daily v. Maxwell, 133 S.W. 351, 354.

Matson v. Dawson, 178 N.W. 2d 588, 591. A farmer has the same right to the use of the highways of the state, whether on foot or in a motor vehicle, as any other citizen.

Draffin v. Massey, 92 S.E.2d 38, 42. Persons may lawfully ride in automobiles, as they may lawfully ride on bicycles. Doherty v. Ayer, 83 N.E. 677, 197 Mass. 241, 246;

Molway v. City of Chicago, 88 N.E. 485, 486, 239 Ill. 486; Smiley v. East St. Louis Ry. Co., 100 N.E. 157, 158. “A soldier’s personal automobile is part of his ‘household goods[.]’

U.S. v Bomar, C.A.5(Tex.), 8 F.3d 226, 235” 19A Words and Phrases – Permanent Edition (West) pocket part 94. “[I]t is a jury question whether … an automobile … is a motor vehicle[.]”

United States v Johnson, 718 F.2d 1317, 1324 (5th Cir. 1983). Other right to use an automobile cases: –

EDWARDS VS. CALIFORNIA, 314 U.S. 160 –

TWINING VS NEW JERSEY, 211 U.S. 78 – WILLIAMS VS. FEARS, 179 U.S. 270, AT 274 – CRANDALL VS. NEVADA, 6 WALL. 35, AT 43-44 – THE PASSENGER CASES, 7 HOWARD 287, AT 492 – U.S. VS. GUEST, 383 U.S. 745, AT 757-758 (1966) –

GRIFFIN VS. BRECKENRIDGE, 403 U.S. 88, AT 105-106 (1971) – CALIFANO VS. TORRES, 435 U.S. 1, AT 4, note 6 –

SHAPIRO VS. THOMPSON, 394 U.S. 618 (1969) – CALIFANO VS. AZNAVORIAN, 439 U.S. 170, AT 176 (1978) Look the above citations up in American Jurisprudence. Some citations may be paraphrased.

Warren Harding was poisoned in August of 1923 for rejecting Wilson's imperialism. Lincoln waged an unconstitutional war to centralize a voluntary federation. Conspiracies rule the world and fill the prisons. Mussolini and his girlfriend were hung by the heals and their cadavers dismembered. I put it to the world that both L.B.J.'s deserved no less: Lyndon Baines Johnson and Lady Bird Johnson. They were married. She's credited with being bright, thus, she knew what her S.O.B. husband was up to as she planted posies and dedicated statues.

Torrent-bed

I seek him in a torrent-bed
I seek him in the divine waters of unconstitutional purpose
I have no doubt
My mind will ease there
And that my thoughts will trickle through
And down into
Between nothing and faith

Somewhere in between I am sure of it

My hand grips blasphemy like a crow
How cunning
This cry out from my reaches
From out of the very depths of me
It shudders up and begs
It wants to burst from me
And caw
And scream
And turn my brows to arches
My face angular with passion
My body braces from the intensity

I feel sick
My stomach has swallowed my heart
And she still beats
Each thump swirls my head
Each thump drives me to let her loose
And heave

My fingers have found a new curve
As if they have turned themselves around something sharp
And jagged
And liable to cut that curve away