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You Don’t Have To Stand For The Flag or Say The Pledge of Allegiance

 

 

 

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Here is the question:

https://ffrf.org/outreach/item/14030-pledge-of-allegiance

I haven’t said the Pledge of Allegiance since the Iran-Contra scandal, and I probably will only say it once more: when my woman becomes a citizen, but probably never again after that.

The injustice that Colin Kaepernick continues to endure is just one reason why, as the Supreme Court decided that one does not have to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance-and this is before ‘under God’ was added in 1954.

Most people in the United States are not interested in justice, or there would more police officers being executed for framing or shooting innocent people.   That being stated, it’s perfectly acceptable to shoot cops, as you don’t know who the good ones are-assuming that there are very many left.

I know of one, but I wonder if he goes easy on me because I’m white.

Anyone who stands for the flag is a fake patriot-especially if they buy a foreign car.  Real patriots buy American-made products-and don’t make excuses, because they exist if you know where to look.  Go to http://madeinusaforever.com and kiss my ass before you scream at Colin Kaepernick, because he isn’t the problem, his critics are.  Donald Trump is.  Every white person who hates him is.

Furthermore, it was a U.S. soldier who suggested that he kneel out of protest.
https://www.cbssports.com/nfl/news/heres-how-nate-boyer-got-colin-kaepernick-to-go-from-sitting-to-kneeling/

Colin Kaepernick is one of the greatest heroes in American history because he kneels for his beliefs and he donates his money to the poor.  Colin Kaepernick is equal to Nathan Hale because he has only one life to give for his cause.

Most whites would not do what Kaepernick has the courage to do, because they love their paychecks too much.  Whites are conformists.  Whites don’t think any further than their front yard or their cubicle, and they believe whatever the right-wing media tells them.

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America’s Hypocritical Position on Traumatic Brain Injury

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You may be like me in that you have a tough time controlling your temper.

None of that ‘count to ten’ crap works for you, either, does it?

Yeah, that’s what I figured.

The problem may be that your frontal lobes might be compromised, if not destroyed to some extent.   Worse, the more you try to explain the situation, the more you are dismissed-which is why I have no sympathy for  who don’t hit the dirt or find a place to hide when someone’s breaking point has been cracked and they exercise their Second Amendment rights in Las Vegas.
According to Sanford University, the prefrontal cortex is associated with higher attention, cognition, following society’s rules, and controlling one’s impulses (source: Stanford, Zero to Three, January 2009).
I know how I get when things don’t work after I follow the written instructions-get out, and get out now.
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t has gotten worse over the distance of time, due to the number of pallets which hit me in the head when I worked at Walmart.  I can feel it, but I can’t stop it.  I scream obscenities, punch walls, and floor the pedal on the car.  And when I’m accused of having a bad attitude, that’s when you’re playing with matches, as all I am is the spilt Unleaded 93 because there’s a line of gas that leads straight to the pump.

Talk about your Terrible Herbst!

With all the discussion about the traumatic brain injuries suffered by idiots who paid no attention to the road en route to Fallujah or Tikrit, it seems that Americans should express at least some benefit of the doubt toward those of us who didn’t engage in murder via the United States government during the Iraq War.   We  all know they’re going to get that benefit of the doubt when one of them stands on trial for murder, but what about the rest of us who suffer from the same condition through no fault of our own?

Rehabilitation is the answer, not incarceration.  If this society is going to allow rapists in American military uniforms to walk free because they drove over a bomb, Americans who got traumatic brain injury by illness or accident should be afforded the same courtesy.

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What the Hell Happened to Me?! Who Cares? I Have Victories To Win

I rehabilitate myself at least three days a week.

I have a great physical trainer with whom I have much in common.  However, there is a peculiar issue with which currently confuses me.

After I acquired meningitis in 1971, my right side became more dominant (I began life ambidextrous).  Although I still ate with my left hand and despite the fact that I played kickball and soccer with my left leg, I batted right-handed and slugged people with my right fist while in the course of defending myself all through my elementary school years.  Remember that I had been bullied almost to death earlier in my life.  Fighting was the only way to keep bullies away from me.

Something is amiss, however, because my right leg is now more stable than my left.

While my balance was never anything to brag about, one of my biggest fears I was in my twenties was being having to perform a sobriety test in front of Los Angeles Sheriff’s deputies because I was never good at heel-toe.

While it has always been quite the adventure to stand on either leg, I now see that my current ability to do this has become much more difficult.

My physical trainer has me stand on one of those big plastic balls that a first grade teacher might improvise to represent Jupiter, but I have to fight for control-regardless of which leg I use.  The irony is that my right leg has now become stronger than my left.

This is a serious concern for me, because the question now arises:

WHAT DID THE 2007 SEIZURE DO TO MY BRAIN?

l knew that something was wrong from the moment I was in the emergency room in Burbank, California.  When the neurologists told me that they could clearly see the original brain damage, but could find no evidence of anything new, I screamed,  “BULLSHIT!  SOMETHING’S WRONG!  I FEEL DIFFERENT!”

The neurologists continued to insist that there was nothing new.  However, my behavior had changed-and not for the better, either.

My fuse became shorter, whereas I had it nearly under control before this.

I was  able to pull off what I call a Yosemite Sam, which is the ability to find a way out of an aggravating situation and defuse in a safe place.

However, I am unable to do so now.

I struggle with social skills again, and it’s almost as  bad as when I struggled with the same skills thirty years ago.  I experience more difficulty with verbal intent.

The biggest mystery to me, however, is why my left side has become stronger and exhibited more control than my right side, as this never was.

What damage did that second seizure infect upon me, and where, other than the frontal lobes-which were already damaged by the meningitis?

One thing which I have always had in my favor is that I refuse to accept what is.  There’s no point in living if you accept limitations.

You do what you can with what you have left.  Whatever you lack, you take for yourself and take the freeways out of town, as quality of life is more important than life itself.

While it’s harder for me to concentrate and while it’s more difficult for me to remain civil to the truly idiotic who choose to believe that I’m a drug addict, I did acquire my college degree-something that most people would never have thought I could ever do.

So, if you know someone like me, don’t count them out.  Not only do they possess hidden talents which can benefit the world, but the same people also a simmering rage if disenfranchised-and you don’t want your family to get that phone call, do you?

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Ye of little faith! Why Do You Need A Gun?

The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?-Psalm 118:6

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The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?-Psalm 118:6 He replied, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?” Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.-Matthew 8:26

 

 

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Happy Anniversary To My Plymouth, And Hurry Up With My Chrysler!

It’s kind of hard to know what to do when your Internet connection is thrashed. However, I believe in trying to produce anything-even if it’s not perfect.

I actually recorded two pieces, but I wanted to save that for someone special, so I had to record again.

I haven’t felt well in the past few days, as I’m frustrated as hell with everything which isn’t happening.

First is the crap with my car-which all started on September 3. I was informed by GEICO that it was going to be reassessed by a new adjuster.

I have been without my new Chrysler for five weeks, so it’s a good thing that I still have my Plymouth Breeze as a back up.

For those of you who live in civilized countries, America sucks now because no one knows what anyone is doing. Worse yet, no one cares. This has been going on for thirty years, but it’s finally caught up with us-and those of you who have vacationed in the United States know exactly what I’m referring to.

It’s strange how even a poor man in America can own two vehicles. However, it would actually cost me more to rent a car than to keep the workhorse I’ve owned for 13 years, as of tonight.

I would have to fork over $200 deposit per week if I rented a car. However, I save money by keeping that Plymouth around-and besides, I love that car.

I bought my 2000 Plymouth Breeze the afternoon before my Auntie Katie died. I called my uncle to tell him that I had bought a Plymouth to replace the Saturn that I totally totaled.

I bought the Plymouth thirteen years ago tonight. Not only was buying that car one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, but so was ignoring my first wife, who told me to get rid of my Plymouth whenever I bought a new daily driver.

History aside, I knew that I would be right about this.

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What’s With The Sound?

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Music Recording

People with developmental disabilities are more capable than you believe.

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Have you ever noticed how the first notes on these recordings are louder than those on the rest of the tune?
Okay, I’m no sound man.  Hell, I’m half-deaf as it is, and it’s not from being a heavy metal musician for 33 years.  After all, Paul Stanley was already half-deaf when Wicked Lester formed in 1970, so that’s not the problem.
Furthermore, there was a period in my life when I worked behind the camera, and that was back in the early 1990s when I worked with Allan Cameron in Santa Clarita, California, so I know a few things about camerawork.  However, back to the damn sound.
It would be easier to understand why these recordings are so goofy if the opening notes were as screwy as the rest.  However, that is not the case.  So, what gives?
Sure, it makes me sound like I haven’t a clue of what the hell I’m doing-and maybe I don’t.  I won’t argue about that idea in the sound realm, because I’m only using a $1200 Hewlett-Packard or (even sillier) an i-Phone (I’m serious!).
Here’s what is probably the least believable.  The recordings from my i-Phone are of higher quality than those which I record straight from the computer.  Hell, I still get better recordings off compact cassette!  Yes, I still use compact cassettes and old-fashioned tape recorders.
If I know me, I probably haven’t set up the microphones correctly.
Do I really do music for the money?  No, I’m 47-years-old now, and I’m pretty much recording this material for any descendants I might have a century or two down the line.  Realistically, about the only way I could ever cut any kind of album is if I made it in this business first-and then, it would have to be after I’m somewhat established.
Uh-huh, yeah.
Although I’m usually the first one to say that those who look at reality may as well give up now, that is the reality of my situation as a musician-especially a metal musician.
The strange thing about this recording is that it’s very much of the 1970’s variety.  I personally hear elements of Kiss and Led Zeppelin from about 1975 in something that I just recorded last night (October 7, 2017) around 10:30 p.m.
While the notes might be a bit heavier, the sound is very much from the days of Watergate and the Arab oil embargo against the West.
I would record two guitars, but I’m not quite sure that I could pull it off with this computer.  I would probably need a second computer; one to play the rhythm and the other with which to record leads.  I don’t know.  I guess I’ll have to ask my original lead guitarist or another friend of mine who has worked with Sheena E. and Chicago.
Come to think of it, I wonder if he’s playing at the Baked Potato tonight.

 

 

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Another Nameless Metal Composition

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Music Recording

People with developmental disabilities are more capable than you believe.

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I realize what a lot of you are thinking.

 

This guy kind of sucks on the axe.  However, you did read some time ago that I never claimed to be Dimebag Darrell Abbott or Randy Rhoads.

 

This composer has a developmental disability and has had two seizures.  Hence, he records the tune while the notes are still in his mind.  There is virtually no short-term memory, and it’s too late by the time some of the melody returns.

 

The worst thing about it is the melody is never the same once some of it returns to my mind.

 

Just be happy that I’m keeping the classical heavy metal era alive through these compositions.  Maybe I’ll have a kid one day who can perfect his or her old man’s works, but these are the best I can do for right now.  Be grateful that this Jack the Ripper is not a dull boy by only displaying one type of material on here.

 

There are different sides to my personality, other than being a cut-throat liberal, and I want to share some of the other sides.  These recordings are only one verse long, as one should figure that the other one or two verses are the same-just like in a hymnal.

 

You probably have no idea that my hands shake as I type.  Well, they do.  I’m lucky that I can do any of this.

 

My hands shake because of what has happened to me over the course of time.  There are times when I should record the compositions in pieces and take short breaks in between.

 

My left hand shakes as I type this, in fact, and this is probably something that I will have to deal with for the next 50 or 60 years.

 

This is just more proof that people with disabilities can do more than what most people expect.

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