Essay

I read the papers on the Internet: the New York Times, the Washington Post, the L.A. Times, etc. They report on the current state of the U.S. For the most part, it’s somewhat accurate. They tell me that the Government of that free country is spying and monitoring its people. They say that rights granted by the Government are violated by them. They tell me about the waste and graft that goes on in the halls of Government. They extol the atrocities of war and a Government hell bent on power and control.

Read moreI don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care …..

First of all, I’m not a lawyer – I do, in point of fact, have a soul.

Second, the Supreme Court is hardly supreme, given their serious flaws in
logic.

Recently, the US Supreme Court handed down an opinion on the constitutionality
of the 2003 federal statute titled “Partial Birth Abortion Ban” that sided
with the ban, throwing out many years of commonly accepted jurisprudence.
Well, it would be prudent to point out the flaws in the logic, and further to
propose a definition with which the Court can provide clear direction in the
future.

Read moreThe court that thinks itself supreme risks its soul

When one people have declared war on another, and have plotted to injure, oppress, and subdue those peaceful peoples, when is it right to rise up and defend those peaceful? And is defense simply removing oneself from harm’s way or does it involve an active offense? I don’t have the answer; instead, I’ve got ideals that say no violence is OK, no attack is OK, only living the way you need to live is, come what may. But these ideals don’t address the rage inside of my body, that every single cell pulsates with, as I watch videos like this. I have have been photographed, videotaped and, I’m sure, taken a little notice of. I don’t delude myself that I would be so important to the police state that they would plot against me; however, it seems you don’t have to be very important.

Read moreShoot The Pigs

There has been much-ado regarding a woman’s right to sexual & reproductive freedom in our Union of late. To say there is controversy is to belittle the feelings that have motivated violence and uproar from both sides. The highest court in our land has ruled, not once, but several times on the issue, and still it lingers with a foul smell. Our politicians wax and wane to pander to the ideologies of each side and, seemingly to me, fuel this debate with nonsense and non-sequiturs.
There is, however, a question or perspective that has not been addressed by the courts, the politicians or any of the followers of either side of the Abortion debate: Does a Government have the ability to determine the freedoms we may exercise upon our own corporeal bodies? This question does not rest with reproductive freedom, but rather with all freedoms to do as we will to our only, to be sure, property from cradle to grave: the self.
I put forward the argument that the jurisdiction of the state is ended at the boundaries of our skin when it comes to codifying behaviors directed at ourselves. This includes abortion, drug use, suicide, which involves exactly one physical party – the self.

Read moreOn Self Determination

He was an average kid filled with average stupidty and reasonably clear skin for being in 8th grade and I didn’t really give a shit about him. His sister was in the grade below us and I couldn’t stop thinking about her: white puffy sleeved blouses, full lips and dark brown hair on a creamy face. I wanted to fuck her under the bleachers during a football game and leave her quivering without my load, declaring her unworthy of my seed. I’m not sure why. She never said anything to me and I never even got to know her. I felt a little guilty for imagining that about her.

But she’s unimportant, afterall, I never stabbed her. It was her brother that started the whole mess. George fucking Harrington had a knack for instigating a violent reaction and appearing the martyr. I’d seen it several times. Anyway, most of this is unimportant, except that I wound up stabbing him in the hand with my pencil and then hitting him across the head and body by swinging my desk into him. It wasn’t that big a deal; the pencil went right through and except for a little bleeding from the skin tearing, it missed anything important and left mostly a bruise, and the desk was more visually effective than anything else, since I hadn’t gotten a good enough swing by the seat back and the angle was awkward so that it more glanced than belted.

Read moreSlow Kids