Tied to a Chair and Killed

Of course, they try to always make it sound nicer. Punishment they call it. Capital. I don't know if it's the money kind like in capitalism or the big big letters, but the so called punishment is a final one cuz you're quite dead when they're done shocking you with dangerous electricity on purpose.

The electric chair. Sounds better. Here, sit down while we murder you. And you the taxpayer pay for that current, that chair, and all the salaries of the morbid standers-by. Of course it's justified in the name of the "law," but nonetheless it is a brutal killing we allow to happen for the good of the Order. Of course, it is also against this same body of "law" to take another life, and if you don't watch out you'll end up in that very uncomfortable chair soon enough.

I have often wondered how people would react to the hanging pendant of a tiny criminal, blindfolded, dying in a chair. You know, like a sort of updated crucifix pendant. If it was Jesus in the chair - that would be acceptable wouldn't it? Because that One died on a stake on a hill, bleeding all over the place, and that's what how we wear it now as jewelry. In full agony for all to see in pewter, silver and gold. But that was before electricity. Before modern times.


So anyway we're left with a few things to consider:

1. It is okay to tie people to chairs and kill them
   (as long as the state is there)
2. It is not okay to kill people
   (unless you wear certain clothes)
3. It is not okay to kill yourself
   (pretty much ever)

Sounds like we have to leave the killing to the professionals and just keep paying for it. Not much freedom in that. It also sounds like we're pretty messed p in clearly defining things in just one instance. Next time: how "law" says you can not have a common weed you can grow in your back yard and isn't even poisonous. In fact, these aforementioned state professionals will burn it in huge bunches and throw you in prison for having it. Because you citizens are not to be trusted with a natural plant you can grow anywhere relatively easy. It is dangerous.

So now. Where are we free again?

No Cars - No Bombs.

Hasn't anyone thought of this yet? Iraq can't have many cars left by now anyway. They tend to explode alot over there. Every day a car here or there blows up and kills people and injures hordes of others. Here we are spending millions and billions searching and detaining people, and it turns out we can pretty much assume the bombs are in cars.

That much we know. Okay, Baghdad just try it. No cars for a while. It's not like the infrastrucure will suffer. Let's see what happens. Oh wait, then how are our "trusted" news media going to get around if we do that?

All Day Long

With Fat Tuesday we urge everyone to hurry up and eat before getting an ashen cross on the forehead. Flapjacks anyone? Happy National Pancakes Day, from Bisquich.

Telling You Someone Else Paid

It's good to know other people have thought about this statement too, and get as incensed as I do when it's thrown in our faces:

PAID FOR
BY THE U S ARMY

I am not a sheep! I know I paid for that just then, not the Army. Liars! I fund the Army! Why, then, and more importantly, who would dare, tell us that you paid for something we never said you could buy? Support our troops. I already do, and it's called taxes. One thing I know, taxes sure do buy a lot of tanks. And bombs. Boots. Oh yeah, and commercials like video games.

Taking From Another Place

Bob never looked so good! Cut and paste.

It's all most people really know how to do any more. Write something down? Nah. Cut and paste. Taken from one place, and put into another. It's really something when you think about it. Before computers and operating systems where a clipboard device is used, most people did not even relate to what this phrase could possibly mean.

Except, maybe, in the form of a ransom note on a murder mystery. Glue? Clippings? I dunno but let's take a look at what I've put together here.

The Problem with Us

It's simple.
We've all dropped the stars.
Stars are Hollywood and last I checked that's on the ground.
Some still know the celestial few, the sacred ones.

And that is all that matters now.

I did the artwork above while I was taking classes at RISD. It's the LA Skyline and I put the stars back up where they belong. Nobody in the class really said anything, though, but that's the trouble with art. The caption in the picture is taken form an older ode to Hollywood I wrote some years ago:

without TV
devoid dolby
debut
or limousine
the public tramples on its heroes
and pigeon volunteers
scrub clean the homeless tiled floors
for a fan club fee

it's how I hear Hollywood
how Sunset Boulevard sounds to me
the din of dying dreams
the fading fame
amid the sidewalks starred

The Thing and Where It Is

END THE SUFFERING

PUT YOUR JESUS OUT

I always end up wondering why suffering feels so good. Familiar-like. And then I remember, ah yes, the crucifix. My necklace! What's that celebratin' anyway, big big Rome or the donkey king?

You decide.

My question is this: if the Lord anguished for our sins, why on Earth are we still committing them right now? Does this mean Jesus still suffers? Will He ever catch up?

My good (and all too distant, sigh) friend Alicia will tell you one of my rules for life. I hear her say it with a chuckle when the situation calls and I am happy for that, because it is a simple wisdom I had to almost die achieving. Here it goes now:

IT'S NEVER
THE THING
IT'S ALWAYS
THE THING
NEXT TO THE THING