Sound Injuries and Where Were My Russians?

More?  Yes, it seems that additional possible ultrasound/infrasound/something sound injuries of personnel associated with governments are turning up, far beyond Cuba this time.  A while back, I dropped an e-mail to the U.S. State Dept., encouraging them to check out my old speculative 1976 magazine article (see visual) regarding UFOs and human injuries, perhaps sometimes caused by sound waves.

No, we were NOT suggesting that UFOs are behind the trauma directed toward diplomats and others, but only that sound is flexible and capable of many uses in the modern world -- including, as military minds of the world well realize, weaponization of tragic potential.

Unfortunately, I neglected to maintain a calm head, once again oblivious to the fact that government agencies consider people like me part of the lunatic fringe, and there's no way a reasonable reply would float my way -- and it didn't.  Looks as though one has to be conventional to be mentionable.  Otherwise, out of sight, out of mind and off to the loony box goes one's e-mail.  Nevertheless, should sonics be involved with recent brain injuries, we suspect and predict the rattling encephalon gymnastics  will continue until and unless the mystery unravels.  What do we really think?  We really think that U.S. government scientists already know much more than we little folk are allowed to absorb.

Russians, Russians, where were my Russian readers?  Yes, I was increasingly curious that my rude comments (and likely the cartoon) regarding Putin of November 1 may have chased them all off. They had all disappeared by three or four days after some kind of sweeping process -- but a few have returned.  Where were you?  Why have you returned?  Where are the others (and their numbers were considerable)?  Are they busily hacking Equifax accounts and, if so, since mine is probably exposed out there, would they kindly procure some free bitcoin for me?  Shall I blame (1) Russian censors, (2) Google, which owns Blogger and may well have its own "politically correct" watchers, or (3) my government, or (4) the weather or "climate change" or (5) radioactive Russian mushrooms, which the French are apparently complaining about today?  And while we're on that subject, what the heck's up with that mysterious radioactive cloud thought to originate in Russia which may have, we suppose, caused reports of radioactive mushrooms? 

But I digress.  And it's a really, really good day to digress.  Anyway, welcome back Russians!  Welcome back, I presume, Vladimir Putin and Ed Snowden.   The more the merrier.

Goodbye Charlie and Goodbye Charlie

"I'm from Juvenile Hall.  I'm from the line of people nobody wants.  I'm from the street.  I'm from the alley.  Mainly I'm from solitary confinement."*

(*From journalist Steve Alexander's interview with Charles Manson, conducted decades ago, entitled "Tuesday's Child." The courts reportedly suspended Manson's telephone privileges shortly after Alexander's interview.)



Yeah, so I was about to start typing this entry and had settled upon Charlie Manson's demise, but then a TV news bulletin popped up and a voice announced that another Charlie, broadcaster Charlie Rose, had just been given the boot by both CBS-TV and PBS-TV after (at least) eight women came forward and charged him with abuse, one or more even alleging how he paraded around them nude!  Thank GOD Al Franken's first name isn't Charlie, I just don't have space for multiple perv Charlies today.  The very thought of an image of Rose cavorting naked before a surprised audience of even one is enough to send me off into the woods screaming, but I decided to calm myself and proceed with Plan A.

When Manson's "family" conducted its murderous invasions in 1969, I remained pretty much unaware of the carnage, for I was tucked into a Texas Air Force hospital during the day and usually ended up too tired to pay attention to the day's events as portrayed in the newspapers.

Years later, curious about Manson's lesser reputation as a song writer -- ultimately a reputation of no consequence whatsoever, though he might have had a doomed appearance on American Idol today -- I discovered there were LPs and CDs released by Awareness Records (entitled, "LIE") featuring, essentially, Manson's greatest singing/guitar hits. Of course, as I discovered upon procuring a CD, they overwhelmingly suck. 

We've mentioned these songs in previous years, adorned with titles such as:  Look at Your Game Girl, People Say I'm No Good, I'll Never Say Never to Always -- and my personal favorite title, Garbage Dump.  If Charlie, now dead at age 83, hadn't used his alleged Svengali attributes for pure evil, he'd have made a great John Waters film actor (which reminds me that an early Waters film displayed a wall carrying the message, "Free Tex Watson," an imprisoned Manson follower).

But how did an odd little sociopath, a devious nobody like Charles Manson, born of a prostitute, acquire the street smarts to exert such a defining, hypnotic hold over both women and men anxious to do his bidding?  Why would anybody hitch their wagon to such a man? 

Maybe for the same reasons that fawning crowds would pursue, say, a medical doctor who promises his flock that flashlight beams attract UFOs?

"Being crazy used to mean something," Manson once responded when ABC-TV's Diane Sawyer asked if he was crazy.  Replying that he was indeed crazy, he added somewhat wistfully, as if lamenting a special personal attribute  stolen away by society, "These days, everybody's crazy."

So now Charlie Manson, the enduring monster, is dead, his rep overshadowed by a mainstream media busily devoted instead to Hollywood and political sexual abuse allegations -- the kind of stuff the charming Manson Family would have chomped on for breakfast, spit out and forgotten about long before sunrise.

And speaking about people exerting a strange hold over us. . .just a few entries ago, I wrote with some encouragement about rock star Tom Delonge's new project in which he seemed to express a serious interest in finding out once and for all what UFOs are.  Today, I'm not so encouraged.  In an interview with Joe Rogan, reported via researcher Isaac Koi, UFO Chronicles (see link) and other sources, Delonge comes off sounding more like a member of the woo-woo, gee-whiz community, too easily led, than somebody scientifically rooted in facts.  We would love to be wrong about the future of his project, but voices more in touch with current UFO research information than I appear increasingly cautious.  This revelation has rattled me so much that I can't even remember what number Blink was.

Shoplifting in China:  Well, at first I was really burning about three UCLA basketball players who embarrassed the USA by allegedly stealing things from merchants in China.  But then the truth hit me harder than watching Al Franken grab a boob -- the Chinese have been "shoplifting" our technical information, military secrets and loads more of our "intellectual property" for decades, so we really don't care if future visitors find opportunities to rob these international thieves blind.  Case closed.

From Russia with Less:  Wow, what'up in Russia?  Barely a day or two after I mentioned how my Russian readership consistently surpasses that of all other countries, Russia's stat totals plunged.  Today, they're ALL gone, even a title listing for Russia.  This is most peculiar.  Where did you all go?  Who are you?  Are you all just Vladimir clicking on the site multiple times?  Or were you here only for the link list?  Were you all dispatched to Siberia, or is censorship going on from either my end or yours?

Anyway, could be that my Russian collusion has concluded.  I'll miss them!  Ah, the crickets of the night, what beautiful music they make.  However, I remain intrigued about this turn of events.

Hanged by the Accusations Until Dead

Let's start at a different place, unlike members of the drooling mainstream media, who can't seem to wallow about in the swine trough enough during this era of political and social witch hunts.

Let's start here:  Boys don't matter anymore.  Everything is about the girls now.  Watch the TV commercials, watch the TV shows.  Check out the local TV "news" shows.  Visually, it's overwhelmingly about the girls.  And the women.  Local news show increasingly drip with estrogen.

Estrogen good, testosterone bad. Very, very bad.

Girls excel in sports.  Women excel in business ventures and tend to populate government agencies more and more.  How about colleges and universities, where women inhabit academia as both professors and students -- and currently dwell high among the many for education as physicians?  "Human interest" stories and features focus, if not completely, at least from the start on female accomplishments.  Great -- but what happened to boys?  Must they suffer and disappear from public view because some men -- like some women -- live their lives as, to quote somebody very naughty indeed, a basket of deplorables?

I have spoken with women who feel the same and themselves ask, what happened to the boys?  They've frequently been swept under the carpet of invisibility, save for video of athletic events.  But science? Mathematics?  Scarce.  It's the girls portrayed with the biggest brains.  Boys and men, we should think, maneuver throughout their daily lives with few or no brains at all.

We are sympathetic toward the girls and women set upon by men who wield power via sexual demands, and we would express the same about men savaged by women with similar powers.  However, as a flood of accusations continue to rock both the entertainment and political world, often by alleged victims who said not a word for decades, we're seeing what looks increasingly like a case of "the more the merrier."  So what are we supposed to do?  Shall all males be saddled with a modern version of "The Scum Manifesto?"

I suspect a lot of this is whipped (no pun intended) up by the left, which apparently has little tolerance for either boys being boys or men exhibiting masculinity -- especially of the conservative Caucasian variety, if I may be so bold to suggest it -- and during this political season digging up alleged sexual improprieties just seems the thing to do, to ensnare male prey.  Where and when does it stop?  Does anybody on the street really care about unreported predatory events said to have occurred decades ago?  If so, why?

Such revelations appear to have been particularly of interest to the leftist media ever since Donald Trump, the consummate villain of the left, assumed Office.  Much of the current climate has grown from the carefully planted seeds of alleged sexual harassment, always a crowd pleaser for agitators with an agenda.  Is public hysteria the agenda this time around?  Why so many allegations suddenly coming to light?  Was Harvey Weinstein really the match that lit myriad fires?  Or is it circumstances of convenience?

Once again, I'm reminded of the motion picture, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, but this time the pods spread allegations.

We really wonder, though, if something went awry, because the left has ended up taking bigger bites out of their own people than from people on the right.  Yes, maybe Roy Moore should be Roy less, but the bulk of accusations are also falling upon Big Lib actors and comedians -- names everybody in the Democrat Party knows well.

Yet, despite the allegations, how does anybody believing victimization submit proof?  He said/she said doesn't hold up very well in court, and the apparent tendency not to report incidents for years, even decades, does not help.  Still, the court of public opinion -- when a sex-bloodthirsty public prefers emotion over provable facts -- chooses hysteria and pitchforks from the get-go.  As usual.  And then. . .

Everybody goes Taliban-ish:  We're always intrigued by the way some people "punish" others by destroying any memory of their existence.  Of course, we saw this with the ISIS folk when they destroyed a huge ancient statue of the Buddha, and whatever else they could get their knuckle-dragging hands on, in order to obliterate any and all remnants of religions other than "the religion of peace" according to radical Islam's standards.

Similarly, did we not have a "solid citizen" who bought up with intent to destroy all of (executed) sexual predator John Gacy's clown paintings?  One can talk about good or evil, but attempting to defeat one's personal devils by demolishing inanimate reminders of another seems a betrayal of history itself.  Why not keep such "mementos" as a perpetual reminder of what some people do -- of a human potential from which we only cower and whisper in our quest to think of ourselves as the best form of life on the planet? 

Trump's tax plans:  Highly-taxed states such as New York and California would do better to focus upon their own government representatives than to blame Trump for their own tax dilemma.  Year after year, these mostly Democrat-run kingdoms have perpetrated hefty tax raises in order to fund their idiot pet programs -- and now that the cost of stink-tuary cities is taking an economic toll, it's high time to place the blame on state governors and legislatures -- the same ones currently blaming the Trump administration for trying to do the right thing for all states.

New blood pressure standards:  Oh, please!  Now the American Heart Association, and no doubt progressive loonies and opportunists in the drug industry are hard at work making sure One Size Fits All by dictating new blood pressure numbers.  Now, 130/80 is considered high, and just wait until Big Pharma gets another infusion of money.  I'm not a doctor, and I don't play one on TV, but I did have enough contact with the medical field as an Air Force medical corpsman (or, as Obama would say, "corpse man") and afterwards to hold a lot of the conventional medical stuff in question.  When these blanket numerical figures come out, knowing how different each of us is medically, genetically, etc., I just want to scream.  Trouble is, somebody would be right in my face, offering me a no-more-scream pill or injection.  Let's do this:  Don't be such a pushover when somebody with medical credentials wows you with their brilliance and insists something is "for your own good."  You're the one who has to swallow it, get injected with it, be radiated by it or be chemically infiltrated with it.  Lawsuit fears?  Simple -- medical professionals should always be able to write "patient refuses" in patient notes and have the patient sign it -- though how this can work in an age where medical care is ruled by computer screens and not paper forms must be resolved.

The haze in hazing:  Once again, it's that time of year when college fraternity hazing episodes are in the news, and this time, if I have this right, two 19-year-old men drank themselves to death by either excess or to the degree of inability to handle stairways.  Yes, this is tragic -- but did anybody hold a gun to their heads in their quest to "belong" to an -- elite -- class of frat guys, all of whom obviously share the same disturbed brain function?  Who actually drank the booze?  Uh huh.  And now they are deceased and we grieve for the families.  But really -- 19?  Common sense used to be pret-t-t-t-t-t-ty well-established by age 19.  So now what?  So now this:  Everybody but the kitchen sink will be held responsible and sued out of their pants because somebody's darling sonny boy acted the moron along with morons of a similar collegiate age.  We say, let 'em have their fraternities, and instead of using Greek symbols and the like, just label them all The House of Darwin.

Democrats:  1.  They tell us what we must not do.   2.  They tell us what we must do.  That's about it for us, the sheep.  Yes, the GOP, too, but the left has it down perfectly in ways to shoot us up with misery as they simultaneously pretend to heal.

Why TV sucks:  I was flipping through the pathetic nonsense of daytime TV the other day and saw that The Young and the Restless soap still clings to life.  A good long look at the characters might entice one into suggesting they rename it The Old and the Rest Home.  Hmm, talk about truth in advertising vs. truth in televising. . .

Donna Brazile: Why Does the UNcaged Bird Sing?

Go get 'em, Donna Brazile, we might be inclined to shout.  She was fierce during her interview by George Stephanopoulis, who, no matter how hard I try to picture him otherwise, consistently reminds me of little more than a former feminine hygiene pad for the Clintons.  Anyway, G.S. aside, one feels her rage when Brazile announces her intent to tell disparaging Democrat stories, adding that anybody who doesn't like it "can go to hell."  Neither Hillary nor Obama come out smelling like roses in her book -- yet, surely she's up to something more in the long run, something more than pointing fingers.  Obviously, Brazile won't be invited to old-boy/old girl DNC beach parties anymore. 

Trouble is, as days go by she appears to soften and distance her tone a bit from the rage exhibited in her new book.  But never mind, the lady is definitely peeved.  Brazile, whatever alterations she makes in the days ahead, may have helped plant an acidic goodbye kiss on whatever Clintonian influence yet infests various segments of the political left.  Then again, even a jack-in-the-box generally pops back out sooner or later, no matter how rusted the spring or faded the colors.  If her rant also assists in pushing the Obamas back into the Marxist closet, never to be taken seriously again, that would be a miracle.  Still -- what the heck does Brazile plan for the future?  Vitriolic payback on the national stage is fine, but there's generally an after-party agenda floating about.

God wants you to shoot back:  A mass shooting at a church in Texas.  Prayer is nice, but the in-house ability to return fire answers some prayers and saves lives with more expediency.  Had my Air Force been in tune with its own regulations and provided disturbing details to a federal registry about the man it imprisoned and then kicked out, a violent psychopath may not have laid his hands on firearms equipped to satisfy the urges in his squirming brain.  Too late now. 

Churches and other gun-free zones seem to be excellent places for human hunting, and while the deluded blame the National Rifle Association -- whose members, by the way, have never engaged in a mass shooting -- for everything gun-evil, carnage will continue on the part of firearm-toting psychopaths and murderers.  It's just so easy. . .

Particularly when you pop antidepressant pills like candy.  A childhood friend of the deceased Texas gunman allegedly stated his parents made him take such medication as a kid.  Is popping illegal pills on the street any different than consuming the poisonous mind-blowing stuff prescribed nice and legally by people either impressed by their medical/pharmaceutical degrees or assisted into wealth by doing the bidding of chemical manufacturers?

I Collude with the Russians, I Guess

Breaking:  President Trump is absolutely right about our collapsed immigration system, and if Democrat voters -- especially those in New York City -- don't understand the trouble we're in, the only reachable conclusion is that they are either misinformed or dined excessively over the years on an abundance of their party's own destructive mind poison.  How long can safety be assured when law enforcement personnel spend their days consumed by the kind of stress we've never before encountered, perpetrated by a dangerously deluded parade of humans allowed to invade our country by both political parties?  I've continued with this at some length way below, but suffice it to say, I am appalled by NY City and state politicians who dust off and re-play the same old speeches time after time without implementing the necessary "politically incorrect" action. And leftist wussies need to face reality, not Hollywood-style political fantasies of their own making.  One more display of candles and teddy bears in a public square will not -- repeat, will not -- heal a damned thing.

There's more a few paragraphs down, but for now here's how I originally started out with today's entry:

My confession:  First of all, I have to get this out of the way.  Maybe you've read about Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey, but as long as we're all into a grand tell-all about matters of sex, I can no longer hold back.  Here it is:  When I was about 10 years old, a dog humped my leg.  I might have enjoyed it.  It was pretty hot.

Now, on to equally serious matters, and it all comes down to Google statistics.  You see, when you blog away the best years of your life in order to commit to the screen words and ideas that most people with real lives could not care less about, there's a bonus:  We bloggers who use Google can call up a stats page and get some idea of how many readers check in and their countries of residence.

Truth seems to be, I have a far bigger number of readers from Russia than from any other country, including the USA (yeah, thanks a lot USA).  I thought, well, maybe this takes in Ukrainian readers, who might be more in tune with American ideas.  But nope, Ukraine is listed separately, and this blog attracts only a few readers monthly from that specific area.

So I'm left with a mystery.  Why so much interest from Russia?  Have they picked up on my unique brilliance and view me with considerable reverence, or have I been found out and Russians gaze upon my blog curiously because they discovered my intellectual finesse ranges somewhere between that endowed within a tadpole and the brain of a paramecium?

Could it be that gangs of Russian spies have infiltrated my readership, ever on the search for key words or nuclear secrets I might disclose unwittingly?  Actually, I don't want to burst that bubble, but as an Air Force medical corpsman stationed stateside during the Vietnam years, I wasn't exposed to a great deal of classified material.  None, actually.  But hey, if it's spies, keep on spying because I really could use the readership numbers.

Unfortunately, I'm more suspicious that my Russian folk might be predominantly of the hacker class.  Great.  I've already gone through this hacking stuff with Yahoo! and Equifax, so I can only assume my personal life information is an open book, a hacker's treasure chest.  What really infuriates me about these hackers is, they just take, take, take and never leave anything of value.  Not even a bitcoin.  Bastards.  Is that my entire Russian fandom?  Hackers?

Or are these merely, one hopes, stalwart, curious Russians themselves, faithful members of the blogosphere who stop in routinely just to find out wha's up?

In any case, having checked the Google stats, it seems undeniable:  I'm colluding in some way with Russia.  Thing is, I didn't know it right away because I thought everybody was talking about collodion.  As a teenager, I messed around a bit with theatrical makeup, and the substance collodion, appropriate as a wound dressing back then, also dried on the skin such that one could fashion realistic bodily scars of any size.  Well, just imagine how surprised I was to learn that frantic TV anchors weren't referencing collodion in the White House at all -- no, they were saying collusion.  Turns out that's a lot different than collodion.

The only other reason I can think of why so many Russians would be reading my blog is because a friend took a guided tour through Russia a few years ago, and upon her return gifted me with a Russian-style fur hat (I don't think the fur was real, but that's okay because I would rather have the beaver/bear/sloth/yeti go free) and a key ring attached to a gem sort of thingie, and I suppose it's within the realm of possibility that one of these gifts is embedded with a listening device, and the mere fact that I speak in its presence commands a legion of Russian spies to check my latest blog entry in case something of substance appears. 

All I can say is, keep reading Russians, don't stop.  It helps my numbers.  And if perchance somebody in Russia translates this blog entry for ol' Vlad, be sure to tell him I only said nice things about him.  Yes indeed, calling somebody a douche is a compliment in my country, and Vlad is the very essence of a douche.

Terror in New York City:  Once again, a bearded flea-ridden member of The Religion of Peace has mowed down, injured and murdered innocent people.  And what did the people of NY get from socialist mayor Bill DeBlasio and self-assumed presidential hopeful and megalomaniac governor Andrew Cuomo?  More hollow words, of course.  Remember -- these folks rank among the sanctuary city class, lovers of everything called immigrant.  And the murderous Islamic moron from Uzbekistan was surely a model immigrant with no red marks on his life.  Thing is, he was brought in under some government program that has the word diversity in it, the "Diversity Visa Lottery Program" or some such rot, meaning automatically that we basically had a good chance of welcoming a piece of human trash, and we did.  This rat-bastard, as seems to be the usual case, left behind a wife and some kids.  I'll bet she's something to behold -- totally innocent, of course.  Maybe they can live at Senator Chuck Schumer's or Obama's homes while her darling hubby languishes in prison until pardoned by some future progressive ass of a president.

But guess what?  This lottery program, sponsored by Sen. Schumer and late alcoholic and negligently homicidal Sen. Ted Kennedy was signed into existence by President George H.W. Bush.  So let's be sure to thank both Democrats and Republicans for the fruits of their immigration compassion, because immigrants chosen from the bottom of the international barrel are more inclined to breed children faster than flies can make fly specs before contributing anything remotely positive.  As we just observed in NY.  Again.

Censorship on the Internet:  Google (host of Blogger), Facebook and other entities seem so on the verge of censoring words and thoughts at times.  The question has come up -- are these actually public utilities, rather than simply social media outlets?  Will Congress propose legislation watering down our freedom of speech and blame it on terrorism Web sites?  The issue is complicated, but at some point the courageous among us absolutely must ascertain that the Internet remains free and open.  Too many global and domestic players wish to make it otherwise.  And have.