Where The Insanity Began

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Sixteen years ago my sons and I took a bus to downtown Everett and met my husband’s bus that he drove into town daily from Granite Falls, Washington.

One of his passengers had brought us the newest addition to our family- it was a tiny little kitten who was the runt of the litter and just about seven weeks old with bowed front legs, blue eyes and a little ringed tail.

The kitten was sitting in a McDonalds bag with the edges rolled down and he smelled like French fries.

He looked up into my face and meowed and when I reached down to pick him up he crawled up my arm straight to my shoulder- where he promptly sunk his claws into my skin so he wouldn’t slide off and then he tried to bite my glasses.

It took three of us to get him out of my hair.

My sons and I had already picked out a name for this tiny creature- we’d just seen a movie that we all loved and my boys were already familiar with the music- I made them aware of it because the composer was my Grandfather’s favorite- he said this man wrote the most perfect music in the world…

 we named that little guy Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

The funny thing is when the boys heard ” Amadeus ” they thought it sounded like “Mama’s Deus ” so they called our Wolfie ” Mommy’s Deus”  for years.

Anyway on the bus ride home we had put Wolfgang in a box and he howled and growled and the bus driver, a bear of a guy named Pat laughed and called back to us, ” Hey, what wild animal do you have back there?”

I opened the box and lifted Wolfgang out by the scruff of his neck held him up and he hissed and spit at everybody and that was pretty much sums up Wolfie.

He’s been more of a companion then pet and he’s inspired stories that I’ve written and some of his real life exploits have turned up in a series I did about a character called ” Insanity Jones “.

People thought I made up things about ” Insanity” like how he sat in the middle of the street one day and backed up traffic and his hatred of fire engines and how I had to lock him up if he saw firemen because he’d try to bite them – but that was all true.

And then there was the Summer four years ago when Wolfie saw my oldest Son’s pitbull running straight for me- I was not in danger but Wolfie didn’t know that.

The next thing I know Wolfie is running by me jumps up and wraps himself around Puma’s head and tries to take his eyes out- and at the end of the day my cat didn’t have a mark on him.

He also spent the rest of the week tormenting that poor dog and barfing on my Son’s suitcase- don’t ask, but when Wolfie got mad at you that’s what he did.

That’s Wolfie’s story, his true story- he was loved and cherished and spoiled and loyal and mean and smart and he was my heart.

When he died that morning, part of me did too.

Tonight we buried him under his favorite tree, then we made a little bonfire for him.

He was up there somewhere wishing, I’m sure, that it would have spread so that he could’ve had one last shot at those Firemen.

 

Jeremy Bentham’s Head Fell Off

Jeremy Bentham was an interesting guy who advocated for things like equal rights for women and the abolition of slavery.

 Jeremy Bentham also had written into his Will that his body be preserved, stored in a cabinet and brought out for special board meetings.

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Then one day his head, which was not preserved well…fell off. So they made a wax one and stuck his real head between his feet ( see picture above) .

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Jeremy Bentham’s Head

I’m sorry to say I couldn’t have made this stuff up.

God, I wish I had.

 

Jeremy Bentham (26 February [O.S. 15 February 15] 1748) – June 6, 1832) was an English jurist, philosopher, and legal and social reformer. He was a political radical and a leading theorist in Anglo-American philosophy of law. He is best known as an early advocate of utilitarianism and fair treatment of animals who influenced the development of liberalism.

God and The Daily Show Effect

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Hi God,

Something Strange and Mysterious has happened

and I’m

chalking it up to  your

Godly Powers.

Either that or you’re drinking again….

but we’ll get to that later.

Anyway, here’s the skinny: 

Over the last few weeks Irregular Bones has gone from an

on-line

 journal

where I write about my cats and my friends and family and head hunters and civil rights and

homeless people and what my bus rides to and from work are like

and my hero worship of Rod Serling and Bruce Campbell

to

a

NEWS SOURCE.

I kid you not.

So being that I’m trying to get on your good side

( well, at least on Sundays )

I’m prepared to answer your Call:

I have a half a pound of Pez on hand at all times

 an endless supply of Jolt cola

a weird sense of humor

and Google at my finger tips.

I am SO going to have fun with this.

Thanks for the Call God,

it’s a good one.

Oh and between me and you

I don’t care what anyone says

YOU ARE FUNNY.

See Ya Next Sunday….

ahhhhmennnnn.

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An Alien Observation

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Do you know what I think is funny?

I think it’s funny when people with voice and power

demand

that

the very people they’ve silenced

 speak for them….

It’s just a thing that seems to happen every

once and awhile.

amm

 

Boo God!

 

Where have I been?

Funny One God.

Let’s Get to it, shall we? 

 

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So God, I was surfing the net for Halloween stuff and I kept running across these stories about Christians wanting to ” take Halloween back ” or asking if they should celebrate it at all.”

Here’s the short answer. 

No.

Okay God?

Just in case that’s not clear enough here’s the long answer:

No! No! No!

I don’t go into church and make everybody in there read Stephen King and I don’t make the Congregation dress up like zombies or ghouls for Sunday Services and I happen to think that some of those Church songs are nice so I would never make them sing those ” Haunted Favorites ” with the sound effects in the background ( let’s face it though, I bet more people would go if ….never mind ) Okay…so tell them alright? I mean, don’t they have to listen to you? Isn’t that in the rule book  Bible somewhere?

Yeah…I thought so.

Now the second thing I want to chat about are these Wonker Heads that sent me hate mail just because I believe in Human Rights.

I know they’re your children God and you love them- probably in the same way I loved that Cyclops Kitten. It was so deformed and helpless and must have been so afraid that you just couldn’t not care about it.

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But Christ, could you make sure they use spell check? Like if one of these er, individuals, take the time to write me a letter and threaten me the very least you could make them do is run spell check so that the fake name those Chuckle-Heads use is spelled right.

Yeah, okay it is funny but still.

And forgive me God because in the spirit of Halloween I told someone an Urban Legend was a true story even though I knew it wasn’t.

Which one?

It was the one about the woman who goes to Mexico and  after she gets back this boil on her face pops open and hundreds of baby spiders crawl out.

Hey, don’t get all Godly on me, the person I messed lost her last brain cell to bleach about 30 years ago and she always calls me ” Sen-your-eada “

She knows I don’t like her, so why she asked me about this one is weird. I’m guessing it’s because ” Sen-your-eada  Ahneeeedah ” ( as she likes to call me)  looks like one of them ” Mexican People ” and she probably thinks  I’d know all about Mexican Infestations “

Hear My Prayer Lord….please have her ask me another….please?

And see you here next Sunday…got that…here

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Oh almost forgot….

aaaaahhhhmennn.

 

An Important Lesson From The Twilight Zone:

 

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It’s one thing to speak your mind,

it’s another to commit those thoughts to paper.

That particular act has never gone by unnoticed.

Sometimes it has a cost .

The Important Thing Is

 You find a way to get your story out there.

I’ve learned that from my hero Rod Serling …

full story here

Rod Serling was surely one of the most idealistic, outspoken, and iconoclastic writers of television’s Golden Age. His highly developed social conscience, his strong opinions against bigotry and prejudice, his antipathy toward network censorship, were eloquently expressed in the more than 200 teleplays he wrote and in the many interviews he gave to national newspapers and magazines- by Linda Jay Brandt

amm

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The 2007 SUX Award Goes To….

The producers of ‘Desperate Housewives’ and ABC Studios 

Come on down you little racists you and accept your award on behalf of members of the Hitler Youth everywhere.

The I.B Award Winning episode showed actress Teri Hatcher, who plays Susan Mayer, asking during a medical consultation to check “those diplomas because I want to make sure that they’re not from some med school in the Philippines.”

By taking a stand and declaring that Medical Workers from the Philippines are inferior, – your voice- which resonates in homes all across the United States, will insure that Americans  will be safe from the hands of individuals who come to our country and provide important services to our

sick

our poor

our tired

and our huddled masses.

Good Job

and we know you probably have a rally to attend in a field somewhere so grab your white hoods at the door and keep up the SUX  work that you do so well

The I.B. Staff

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It’s All In The Game

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A long time ago

my oldest son played soccer.

Most of the parents  insisted outfitting the kids in high cost pro style uniforms,  they bought uniform bags, even special water bottles.

 All of this stuff was embossed with the team logo…and before the game they’d line this stuff up on the ground and then they’d raise a custom made team banner over it all.

The kids were six years old

Some people take this stuff way to seriously like these guys… 

 

By Associated Press

LACEY, Wash. (AP) – The Black Hills Junior Football League says the parents who brawled after a game in Lacey won’t be welcome back.

Police cited two people for assault after the weekend brawl involving at least 15 people at South Sound Stadium following game. The players are second- through fourth-graders.

The fight between Samoan and non-Samoan parents began with a dispute over loud cheering by parents. One man was treated at a hospital for a neck injury.

The football league president says the penalties against fighting parents won’t affect their child’s status on a team.

Find Out What It Means To Me

 

 

My Mom’s family live in Hawaii and over the years I’ve been treated to ” Happy Hawaiin Stories ” by my friends here on the mainland.

One came from a person at a party over heard me mention my Mom had grown up in Hawaii.

This guy told me how on one of his many trips to Hawaii he once he dropped a dollar and this” Little Old Crippled Up Hawaiin Lady  in a mu’u mu’u ” chased them down the street waving the dollar in the air and calling for them to stop.

Just remembering how funny she looked trying to chase them down  ‘always busts him up’.

so he said that the next day he threw a penny down and these ” Hawaii  people”  dove on top of it and raced around trying to find the owner.

Everyone knew it was a ‘joke’ and laughed.

I mean, why not laugh? It’s not like he was making fun of ‘real people’ right?

Well, take a look at this story- it is about real people.

Really.

It’s time to kick myth of crabs in a bucket

ISLAND VOICES
Honolulu Advertiser
Sunday, January 27, 2002

By Kekailoa Perry
Student of Hawaiian history and an activist

Here in Hawai’i there’s a myth known as the alamihi crab syndrome. It is used to explain everything from the 1893 overthrow of the monarchy to the Office of Hawaiian Affairs’ circus-like atmosphere.

We are taught in schools, neighborhoods and workplaces that the Native Hawaiian people carry on like alamihi crabs trying to climb out of a bucket. Each time one is able to get to the top, another crab reaches up and pulls it down. Over the years people have accepted this fiction as truth.

Though Native Hawaiians struggle daily to overcome the effects of the alamihi crab syndrome, the subtle attack on their identity undermines their souls’ aloha. When the alamihi story becomes part of the unspoken fabric of the school systems, economics and government, attempts to overcome the negative stereotype become a momentous task requiring a lifetime of educating and soul-searching. In fact, Native Hawaiian people have gone so far as to live out the life prescribed for them via this fictitious story.

Today, there is no lack of alamihi examples when we look at OHA, Punana Leo, the Department of Hawaiian Home Lands, Kamehameha Schools and other Hawaiian institutions: Hawaiians pulling other Hawaiians down just as we’ve been taught to do. Life in the proverbial bucket becomes a mainstay for many who can no longer see the rocks and seashore on the other side. In fact, many Hawaiians have become rather comfortable in the bucket system and tend to do extremely well there.

The OHA bucket is a breeding ground for personal gain and political influence. Since accepting the table scraps from the overrated ceded lands settlement of the Waihe’e era, OHA has become a sweltering hole of power plays and favoritism. Some trustees use OHA’s economic power to leverage political influence and elevate themselves to higher office.

Other trustees and Hawaiian leaders use their positions to gain greater political exaltedness. The result is that the Hawaiian people and the programs that are meant to serve them fall straight to the bottom of the bucket.

OHA is just a microcosm of the Native Hawaiians’ sad state of affairs. No one entity — not Ka Lahui, DHHL or even Alu Like Inc. — has escaped the tentacles of the alamihi myth. Table scraps from so-called ceded lands and Hawaiian Home Lands settlements do nothing to turn the tide. They simply perpetuate the same misinformation and colonizing history.

The alamihi story dictates that our survival is dependent on life in the bucket. Anyone who believes that there is life outside the bucket should be pulled down and put in his place.

Is this truly a Hawaiian point of view? Is this the aloha we so proudly wave as the military and tourists come into our country without regard for the ethnocide that is committed by their very presence? Of course not. Yet, for any one of us to try to see the world outside the bucket is almost like yelling “fire!” in front of a firing squad. Very few have the courage to do so and accept the eventual freedom that comes with such an act. We doom ourselves, against our gut feelings, to live out the life of crabs in a bucket.

In traditional times, Native Hawaiians never kept crabs in buckets. In fact, there were no buckets until Capt. James Cook and his diseased crew fell upon our shores. Whenever Hawaiians needed crabs, they collected them from the environment, where they thrived in coexistence with other creatures. You see, the natural habitat for the crabs is atop the rocks, a solid foundation. In their natural environment, the alamihi crabs do not tear each other down. There’s no need, because there is a place for all of them on the stable foundation of the ‘?ina.

When we realize this simple truth, we understand that the Native Hawaiian life in the bucket is alien, unbalanced and insecure. In the bucket, humanity gives way to violence, and integrity is replaced with unethical behavior. This should not be surprising, considering the intent and purpose of the story: to keep everyone in Hawai’i believing that the native people should fare no better than the lowest in society, thus keeping Native Hawaiians trapped in a soul-strangling lifestyle.

The Hawaiian, like the crab, was never meant to live in a bucket. Hawaiians must flourish on the solid foundation rooted in their spirituality and culture. That foundation is not OHA. Neither is it a nation within a nation. In either case, the people will continue to exist in the proverbial U.S. bucket. The foundation must be an independent one, and the people become consciously aware of their colonial situation.

Will such a thing occur? Not overnight, but it will happen. Of course, we need to be willing to live outside of the bucket. In fact, this is one bucket we should all be willing to kick.

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an alien idea

brought to you by

an alien writer

Civil Rights From The Twilight Zone

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Rod Serling gave this speech back in 1968, just after I turned four years old. (link at the end of this post)

 In the wake of Jena, The ICE Raids and the Wars in Iraq And Afghanistan as well as the questions raised by the Patriot Act

one can see that

Rod Serling could have given this speech yesterday.

How sad and how utterly tragic that is.

amm

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moorpark college

Suddenly we are a nation whose new battle slogan is law and order. 

Last year it won countless numbers of elections. 

It’s the great new American euphemism. 

Law and Order. 

It is now interchangeable with God, Motherhood, the Constitution and the Holy Grail. 

But how empty and how suspect is this sloganry when it points up the incredible selectivity on the part of America’s citizenryhow picky and choosey they are when it comes to moral outrage. 

Rod Serling

December 4, 1968

Moorpark College