Trash in Space

My friend Eddie Mickie weighed more than 300 pounds. He was the only fat person in Bethpage. Everyone else was thin. The year was 1971. Eddie was so heavy that his weight bend the frame of his Harley. Obsessed by space Eddie lost a third of his mass so he could take a glider flight. None of us thought much about going to Space, but Eddie explained the urgency of our departure from Earth.

"When the shit gets a foot high, you have to step a foot higher."

The shit floating in the present atmosphere would cover the earth in several meters of ash if the shit settled to Earth. Somehow all the emissions remain aloft, but so does the trash orbiting our home world. Over a half-million separate objects are hurtling through space at speeds unknown to the surface. One NASA genius even went so far as to unleash thousands of little needles to facilitate the transmission of radar singles. The project was a failure.

The shit is not only a foot high now, it's sky high too. No alien in his right mind would dare risk passage through that maze of crap, which means no one is coming to save us in 2012. At least not ET. He's staying home, if he knows what is good for him.

30,000 Strong

President Obama has finally announced his end-game strategy for Afghanistan. 30,000 more troops by winter and pack our bags by mid-2011. No matter what. The 'surge' is 10,000 less than demanded by the Pentagon to avoid failure on the ground. In the air over that country we are ever victorious as would be our navy, if Afghanistan was not a landlocked country. None of our allies have upped their troop commitments. This 'surge' brings the number of US soldiers serving in the Central Asian nation to roughly the same amount Russia had on the line back in the 1980s.

It wasn't enough.

Obama had few other choices.

Stay pat with 65,000 and look indecisive, withdraw troops and be regarded as a loser, or add more troops and hope for the best.

Prayers are always welcome at this juncture of a campaign and I'm praying that somewhere along the line Obama will choose for the out option.

Otherwise we're just fucking a dead camel.

Danger Danger

La-wang means danger in Thai and the Nation released a police report on Bangkok's most dangerous areas. The number ran into the thousands. I've been going to the Thai capitol for years without any threat of danger other than several bad decision to jaywalk on Sukhumvit. Bangkok is a big city and big city's have trouble spots.

At Frank's Bar in Brooklyn the discussion group at the bar has agreed that Philadelphia was the most dangerous city in the USA. The only argument was over which part of Phillie was the worst.

I voted for North Phillie.

Naked crackheads smoking rock in the street.

Bangkok must have a few of those, but I haven't seen them.

At least not anyplace other than a go-go bar.

"One night in Bangkok...."

No Shame TV

Blood always leads the front page and this tradition has been honored by TV journalist and those of the internet. There is usually a limit. Tragedies are broadcast at a distance to save the victims and their families sorrow, however Bolivia TV stepped way over the line of decency by showing a videotape of four men violating a 13 year-old girl.

The La Paz film crew shot the incident without interfering in the crime. No call to the police. No stop what you're doing. Simply light, camera, action. The channel Red Uno has harvest a storm of protests and its only defense has been Freedom of the Press.

No other television station has aired the footage, but it's only a matter of time, until it hits Fox News. Only one thing as good as blood and that's sex. Then again Hollywood loves violence against women.

No rape. Only violence ala Halloween 12, the perfect first date movie.

One more thing there was no mention of arrests from the Bolivian police.

Either of the rapists or the film crew.

Who Killled The Kennedys?

The night Barack Obama was elected president, people were dancing in the streets of New York. Our man had won against the GOP. I looked into the eyes of a man my age and we started crying, not out of joy, but because of the sadness of the lost years since 1968. He was one of us. He took office two months later. The presidential limousine drove his from the inauguration stage to a series of parties. Thousands of supporters gladhanded their president and at the end of the festivities Barack Obama found himself in the White House.

The Oval Office. The Red Phone to Moscow. The Briefcase. They were his along with two wars and a shattered economy. He must have looked at his wife and said, "What now?"

If I was Michelle, I would have said, "What about the Kennedys?"

Then again I'm from Boston.

Still the President must have access to deep, dark secrets buried by various agency; Roswell, Martin Luther King, Pearl Harbor. Some many questions, yet nothing new has come to light during the first years of his administration and considering the body count for asking the wrong questions, so I can appreciate his patience.

It takes time to unbury the truth.

Maybe the truth will be set free on 11/22/2012.

Unless the world ends as predicted by Hollywood.

Sleeping Khmer

Tiger Woods' Girl

Back in 1979 I was working at Hurrah's, Manhattan's only punk disco. My girlfriend, a blonde B Model from Buffalo, was rightfully jealous of my late hours. We had met at the Romantics' concert. Lisa was so beautiful that I abandoned by live-in girlfriend for her. She was wrong to suspect my doing the same to her. I was faithful throughout our yearlong affair. Women don't like being wrong and one night as I was leaving for work she smacked the back of my head with the new frying pan that my mother had brought as a Christmas gift. I dropped to my knees, thankfully my mother had bought steel instead of cast iron.

"Don't hit me again."

"You're not leaving this apartment." Lisa swung for the fences at my head.

I ducked the blow and disarmed Lisa. My income from Hurrah was split two ways. I chucked the frying pan in the corner and stormed from the apartment. Lisa never said she was sorry, giving me the unwanted insight into the murderous temper coursing in a woman's veins and the famed golfer Tiger Woods might have have experienced a close encounter of a very jealous woman the other night.

Police report his leaving his Florida house in the early morning. 2am. I know that part of Florida. There is nowhere to go at that hour. His SUV hit a tree. The police came to the scene of the accident. His injuries were not those attributable to a car crash. Fingers point to a broken golf club wielded by his blonde wife. Police are investigating the matter, but Tiger should seriously consider sleeping away from his gated community for the next couple of weeks, because his wife probably has a better swing than my Lisa.

Motive for the attack.

Another woman.

Tiger was guilty whereas I was innocent.

Then again all men are guilty in the eyes of a jealous woman.