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Let Those Who Vote Republican in the Rust Belt Decay Away




NBC News’ report on the continuing deterioration of America’s rust belt states can only make you laugh, because voters in those states went to Trump.

Now I ask you: Why should a liberal have any compassion for an idiot?  It’s one thing to be poor and deprived.  However, when you are a somewhat educated person and you choose to vote against yourself, there is nothing left to do than to be pointed to and laughed at when are you, the blue-collar conservative drown-which I constantly do.

The lives of red state conservative voters mean nothing to me because the lives the sick and the lives of uninsured infants (whom they wanted so desperately to be born to that 10-year-old rape victim) mean nothing to them.

This is one thing that “Facebook Democrats” are too stupid to figure out, as they turn a slam-dunk election into a nailbiter.

If people in red states die in the hospital waiting room because they chose to elect Republicans who opposed the public option, then fuck ’em.

Let them die.


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And So, It Begins….




And so, it begins, my journey into the world of Education… all as I hear Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall playing in my brain.

You already know that I’m conflicted about this, as I kind of see this as selling out.  However, I need a job which has union support-especially after what I went through both at Walmart and as a community trainer and respite worker for someone with autism.

One of the things I already realize is that I can’t do things the same way I did when I was a community trainer.   I can’t open the trunk of my car and show some bigot or bully that I’m not bluffing when I threaten to take his teeth out, break his knees, and bash his spine when he makes fun of someone who has a developmental disability-which was something no one in the Company ever knew that I did, otherwise I’d have been fired.  That’s kind of funny, because I found myself engaging in that very act almost every day that I went to work with the guy.

There were always some idiots, usually white trash or white suburbanite pricks, who told me that he needed to be put away in an institution.  Tommy is the only reason I didn’t do it, as he would usually take me out of the situation before the bastard who said what he said wound up twitching on the floor in a pool of his own blood-Tommy knew that I would do it, too.  He started out completely non-verbal, but he learned how to plead me to leave by saying the word go.

I suppose one of the funnier episodes is when this white woman clutched her daughter and pulled her closer (because Tommy was black).  She became verbally abusive after I informed her that the white sheets were in Aisle-5.

Of course I said that right in front of her daughter!  Would you expect any less of me?  I mean, come on!

I defended him every day by destroying anyone who taunted him, and no one ever knew about it.  That’s kind of stupid, firing someone for defending the client by any means necessary, but I digress.

Do I want to teach?

No, because it’s so politicized now that it’s hardly worth it.  However, it’s possible that I’m being driven in a position I don’t want to go to wait for the opportunity in my true calling-which is what I do right now…writing.

Maybe I’m supposed to do this teaching crap, not only to tell kids what really went down in recent American history (although they’re going to have to answer according to the textbook), but to teach and enforce the idea of diversity-which is a dangerous concept in the America ruled by the Trump regime.


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America’s Hypocritical Position on Traumatic Brain Injury






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.

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:


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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Another Nameless Metal Composition



Music Recording

People with developmental disabilities are more capable than you believe.




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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Night Rider

Music Recording

People with developmental disabilities are more capable than you believe.


While it’s true that these recordings aren’t exactly perfect, I release them as is due to the fact that my short-term memory is lacking.  The main point is that Americans with developmental disabilities can create, whether you think they can or not.
I can always perfect the recording later.

I can actually hear the percussion parts in my mind as I compose the tune-too bad I can’t play a set of Slingerlands worth a damn.

This is kind of a thrash piece that I’ve been contemplating for a few hours.  It kind of reminds me of something that Anthrax would have recorded for the 1985 album Spreading the Disease.

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Brain Damage





This is what brain damage sounds like, motherfucker!

I used to go to Guitar Center in Irvine, California a lot, just so I could play the Jackson and B.C. Rich axes.  Besides, I needed to stay awake so that I could go to sleep at a normal time on my nights off.

I fucking hated night shift, but it paid a dollar an hour more than days.  What’s more, I’m not really a customer-oriented person (as if you haven’t guessed), because I don’t put up with crap from people who don’t sign my paychecks.

Like I always say, “I’m a whore, not a slave.  So, fuck off.”

How customer-oriented am I?  Okay, you axed for it:

One time, over twenty years ago, a woman looked for a book which was out of stock.  When she looked over my shoulder as I searched the computer, she said: “The computer says you have ten.”

I immediately turned around and replied, “Ma’am, I’m an Atheist in here, and that means I don’t believe in the existence of anything that I don’t have my hands on.  So, until it’s in my hand, and I give it to you, we ain’t got shit.

You’re not wondering why I never made Employee of the Month, are you?   I mean, it’s pretty fucking obvious.

And you thought this is just a character that I portray in cyberspace.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no!  This is who I am in real life-partially because of the fact that my prefrontal cortex is fucked up (source: Neurosci Bull April 1, 2015, 31(2): 198–206. and partially due to the fact that I simply have no patience for conservatives and other intellectual inferiors who refuse to accept scientific facts.

Meningitis is an inflammation of the lining of the brain  (source: Meningitis. (2015). Nursing Standard (2014+), 30(3), 17. doi:  People who get hit with it suffer brain damage and often lose their sight, lose their hearing, and lose their limbs.

And God supposedly protected three men in a furnace which was heated seven times normal (Daniel 3;19).

As for my axes, I have a Jackson and a Fender acoustic in storage over in Irvine, California, but I had to buy two more guitars and another amplifier.

I have been able to work on my manual dexterity over the course of time, and I’m a hell of a lot better now than I was when I shot that little bit at Guitar Center in Irvine, California in 2011.

I don’t know why God allowed me to get meningitis-and He’d better have a damned good reason for it.  Exodus 4:11 is something that I don’t accept.  And if you have a child with a developmental disability, you shouldn’t either.




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Wanna See What the Father Did To Me When I Was An Infant? Don’t Worry, Because I Will Win in the End-I Always Do.



Exodus 4:11 tells us that the Father inflicts damage on innocent children and Leviticus 21:16-23 advocates discrimination against people with developmental disabilities.

You don’t believe me?


Exodus 4:11-12New International Version (NIV)

11 The Lord said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the Lord?

Leviticus 21:16-2316The LORD said to Moses, 17“Say to Aaron: ‘For the generations to come none of your descendants who has a defect may come near to offer the food of his God. 18No man who has any defect may come near: no man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed; 19no man with a crippled foot or hand, 20or who is a hunchback or a dwarf, or who has any eye defect, or who has festering or running sores or damaged testicles. 21No descendant of Aaron the priest who has any defect is to come near to present the food offerings to the LORD. He has a defect; he must not come near to offer the food of his God. 22He may eat the most holy food of his God, as well as the holy food; 23yet because of his defect, he must not go near the curtain or approach the altar, and so desecrate my sanctuary. I am the LORD, who makes them holy.'”

I’m fucked at Verse 19, as the meningitis with which God allowed Lucifer to hit me with meningitis as an infant, which destroyed my left ear and my balance, as well as my coordination.  Hence, I’m not worth anything-according to God.

That’s okay, the feeling is mutual, Asshole, as You protected three men in a furnace.  Yet, You’re nowhere to be found when a priest molests a child.

For those who have no idea what I’m referring to, here thou art:

Daniel 3:19-New International Version (NIV)

19 Then Nebuchadnezzar was furious with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, and his attitude toward them changed. He ordered the furnace heated seven times hotter than usual 20 and commanded some of the strongest soldiers in his army to tie up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and throw them into the blazing furnace.21 So these men, wearing their robes, trousers, turbans and other clothes, were bound and thrown into the blazing furnace. 22 The king’s command was so urgent and the furnace so hot that the flames of the fire killed the soldiers who took up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, 23 and these three men, firmly tied, fell into the blazing furnace.

24 Then King Nebuchadnezzar leaped to his feet in amazement and asked his advisers, “Weren’t there three men that we tied up and threw into the fire?”

They replied, “Certainly, Your Majesty.”

25 He said, “Look! I see four men walking around in the fire, unbound and unharmed, and the fourth looks like a son of the gods.”

26 Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted, “Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God,come out! Come here!”

So Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire, 27 and the satraps, prefects, governors and royal advisers crowded around them. They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them.

This is why the pious want to be very careful with someone like this columnist, because only one verse needs to be cited to shut them down:

Proverbs 18:19New International Version (NIV)

19 A brother wronged is more unyielding than a fortified city;
    disputes are like the barred gates of a citadel.

Remember how I mentioned that the bullying which I had experienced in the Church nearly caused me to take my own life?

Remember how American society’s discrimination against those with learning disabilities put me nearly at least 25 years behind in life.

This is why people like myself owe the Father absolutely nothing.

I remember looking up and giving the Father my voting finger after I sat down in my row at my college graduation.

“I beat You, You son of a whore-and I’m going to beat You again.  You can’t stop me.  You’re going to pay me every dollar.  I’m smarter than You.  I know Job is merely a myth, but You will come through for me if You want to remain credible-savvy?”

This columnist can make this statement toward his Creator and get away with it because of one verse in Proverbs 30:7-9.

 7Two things I asked of You,
Do not refuse me before I die:

8Keep deception and lies far from me,
Give me neither poverty nor riches;
Feed me with the food that is my portion,

9That I not be full and deny You and say, “Who is the LORD?”
Or that I not be in want and steal,
And profane the name of my God.

Now, we get to where I truly blow Jehovah out of the sky.  Once more, we have to go to Science for the answers, not the Bible-and this article is just one example of how correct Science is.

We have got you ‘covered’: how the meninges control brain
Julie A Siegenthaler and Samuel J Pleasure

Remember, that’s where it all started with me.

Bachelor of Science in Psychology
Master of Arts in Education/Secondary Teacher EducationBS/P-001 (Primary Program)
Current & Upcoming CoursesFull Schedule & Credits

Congratulations! You have officially graduated from your program.Be sure to visit our Alumni Association to learn about the benefits that come with being a University of Phoenix graduate. To get started, check out Alumni Association FAQs.

This should have happened back in 1992.  However, since the Father was so kind to me, I have wandered in the desert for 25 years.  No one does that to an infant and gets away with it.  I don’t care if He did create the Universe.

A tyrant is a tyrant, and my job is to overthrow any tyrant I see-whether that tyrant occupies the White House or inside the Heavenly Kingdom.  The beautiful thing is that the Father can’t send me to Hell.


I know that His Son rose from the dead because I know the mechanics of crucifixion and I also know the political situation in Israel at that time-which means I know the disciples did not steal Christ’s body, because a Roman guard who fell asleep was burned at his post.

This means that I win in both this life and the next!

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After the things I’ve seen, I have no real use for human beings and would open a Donner Cafe in Truckee in half of a heartbeat if I thought I could make a quick buck and get away with it, because humans are a spiritual disease in the universal realm and mind.

Frankly, they disgust me.

Between their double standards, their prejudices, and their lies, this author sees no redeeming value in the homo sapien and he wishes that other primates were better at turning a Craftsman wrench.

Stock swindlers, rapists, child molesters, Christian conservatives, the pro-“life” movement, the military industrial complex, bigots, Republicans, corporations who lobby Republicans in the hope that overtime laws might be overturned…..

I mean, where does it end?

I know that Christ warned that the times were going to suck and swallow like a bitch in San Quentin Penitentiary, but c’mon!  How can it get any fucking worse?

Wait.  Don’t answer that.  I think I just heard the crashing of some glass.  Oh, it’s just an explosion.  Oh, well.  Fuck it.

First, if someone proclaims that they are pro-life, that means that they support the idea of free prenatal care, healthcare for all, and they don’t call babies born from sad circumstances “illegitimate” children.

Second, all children are loved and helped.

Third, we punish bullies and their parents.

Fourth, we force corporations to treat their employees like human beings or we execute all of the board members  in the parking lot of the home office.


And that’s just a start.

Please don’t give me this crap about no one said that life was supposed to be fair, because that’s a lie.  Thomas Jefferson wrote that in the Declaration of Independence.

In closing, don’t piss me off too much, because while you claim that life’s not fair, liberals and leftists make it so by any means necessary-whether you decide to accept that reality or not.

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Composing Again

I’m not a Bruce Kulick, Eddie Van Halen, Randy Rhoads, or even a Malcolm Young (before tragedy struck him), but I’m pretty damn good for someone with severe brain damage.

I’m composing again, after many years of not.

Why?  I suppose it’s because I need to.  I have to remain busy in one way or another, while I wait for the Master’s program at University of Phoenix to begin, and this little piece actually took roughly twenty minutes for me to get it nearly to how I wanted it to sound-at least from a structural viewpoint.   From an electronic viewpoint, the quality is almost as bad as a Panasonic tape recorder from 1984, but a small computer microphone is what you use when you have to sell used toilet paper on the poor side of town for gas money.

There are two challenges with in regards to composition.  The first is remembering the chord progression, since I have the short-term memory of a funnel, and the second is to remember how I wanted it to sound.

There are some things which go through my mind as I listen to this recording loop on my laptop.  The first is that this seems to have a raw 1970’s AC/DC sound-back when Bon Scott was still alive.  The second is that I’m really  surprised that I recorded this on the first take with almost no mistakes.

I don’t understand why the sound seems to cut out at :11 into the recording, because I didn’t move at all, but I guess I’ll figure it out eventually.

The equipment I used for this recording was a Fender Strat Squire, a Peavey Envoy 110 amplifier, and a DOD Hard Rock Distortion FX57, as my Jackson and my Fender acoustic are currently in storage in Irvine, California, along with my Boss DS-1, which I bought in 1985.

The Fender Strat Squire and Peavey Envoy 110 are what you will always hear until further notice whenever I decide to throw one of these recordings on this page.

You, the reader, are probably wondering why I decided to do this.  C’mon, man.  I can’t do all politics all the time.  Even someone like me has to mix it up a bit.  In addition, this is further proof that someone with a developmental disability can actually do something and be useful in the world.

Right, Crescent Hardy of Nevada?

Ah, let him burn in Hell.  He will soon enough, I’m quite certain.

Music Recording

People with developmental disabilities are more capable than you believe.



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Here Is Proof I Succeeded: Jim Rousch, Class of 2017

nMy class ring came in the mail today.

I would have ordered it sooner, but there was a little bit of doubt as to whether I would graduate this year or next. However, since I had less than 10 credits to go, I was allowed to participate in graduation exercises.

To bastards like Crescent Hardy of Nevada, who said that people like me are a drain on society, you have been proven wrong.  Crescent Hardy said that disabled children are a drain on society.

Here is what Crescent Hardy said about us!

Excuse me, but I’m not the one who went to Iraq to show everyone how big my penis supposedly was only to drive over a roadside bomb because I thought I was a badass and paid no attention to the road!

My brain damage went into the brain stem when I was six months old. I wasn’t expected to be a contributing member of this sick society.

My left ear can’t hear and I can’t lift anymore, but I can still destroy anyone. My words are like intercontinental ballistic missiles, and I love to fire them off at will.

I have ten itchy fingers just waiting for bigots like Crescent Hardy.

As for myself, I’m getting a Master’s in Education-possibly a doctorate.

I hope Hardy stays alive four more years so that I can show him what someone who has brain damage can do, because I will then tell that bigot to Burn in Hell.

It’s going to be a beautiful moment in Eternity when someone like myself sees of Crescent Hardy in Hell for the way he sees us, but I want him to be around around long enough so he can meet his Satanic Christ.

See You There, Cresent Hardy!