Glass Half Full
OF CHAMPAGNE
There was this small, snooty club. In a central coast resort town, where I had lived for a dozen years. Around the corner from the main, boisterous drag.
Where the waitress' called me Mr. Champagne. Was I rich? No. But I did have a taste for the Bubbly.
And even at this snooty little establishment. A split of Schramsberg, could be had for (drum roll please) … twenty five dollars. Including tip! Yeah, that was a long time ago. In a galaxy far far away.
Mentioned in the context of life itself. And how one views the World.
Many are giving up. Many already have. And in Canada? You can make it official. With a mere grimace of pain, the State will "assist" you, with your suicide. In the literal blink of an eye. You can check out, permanently.
Myself, physical pain completely destroyed my life, en toto. Six years ago. It was a living waking nightmare. Didn't give up. Fought like Sugar Ray. Fought with a fury. Got on pain management. That itself took two years of Hell. Got my life back … as in I can now participate, in life.
No, I certainly do not recommend large quantities of morphine, for everyone. But where there is a will to live? There IS a way.
And here, in this fallen Republic. These formerly United States. All manner of computer hardware has been spinning nonstop, on the working's of your mind. To get you to stop. To give up. To surrender your Freedom. Your very life … to Dear Leader. To the Junta. To the Fourth Reich.
As in resistance is futile.
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I'm NOT a hopeless optimist. I daily paint a pretty grim picture, of our future. But that's different than that which fills my thoughts. As I awaken each day, and crawl out of bed.
I had done a little reading about how one's existential view of the world. Is informed, was formed … by the very land upon which they live. Upon which they grew up … from child to adult.
In my case … it was literally Disneyland. Though poor, we still managed to go once a year. And as a child, the other eleven months were spent in contemplation … of the next visit.
With large souvenir map on my bedside wall. I knew every square inch of the park (and yes, one of my eBay treasures. Is a correct year, map).
When exiting the park, at the very last, nestled into the train overpass. Was a tiny souvenir counter. Where for fifty cents, you could by a map. Or for a dollar … a Japanese keychain, 1" pearlized pocket knife, with logo.
In Southern California, the sun literally shone year round. Gas was 29 cents a gallon. A whole running used car, could be had for $200. Even poh folk was mobile.
The Beatles were on the radio. The Beatles were on TV. Chevy had the Corvette. And the Schwinn shop, had the Sting Ray. Something which I never owned. I got over it, didn't leave a scar. Though yes, the five speed stick shift, with springer front end model. Did make me drool … a little.
Have I had my fill of Evil? You bet. Am I going to give up? Nooh. Am I going to surrender? Nooh.
You can have my Country, when you can pry it from my cold dead hands. Speaking of cold, dead hands …..
Ray Epps Hires Lawyer w/ Ties to FBI-Linked Perkins Coie, Threatens Tucker Carlson
++++++++ Ray Epps’s new attorney, who is demanding on behalf of his client a public apology from Tucker Carlson under threat of a defamation lawsuit.
Is the director of a radical anti-Trump organization, a close associate of Media Matters Democrat attack dog David Brock and a former employee of Perkins Coie, the lawfare firm behind Russiagate and the Steele dossier.
Epps’s attorney, Michael Teter, sent a letter on Thursday to Carlson, demanding the Fox News host retract what Teter called “false and defamatory statements” that Epps was a J6 government plant. ++++++++
From above:
I get out of bed each day, because I am on a mission. Which waits until I've had at least one cup of coffee. And doesn't taxi the runway, until I've had two.
The job doesn't pay anything. There's no prizes [though it sure is swell when you are linked by a fellow Blogger (I had forgotten what an instalanche was like. Thanks Lindy)].
Hell, for a year and a half. I hauled more than half of Drudge's water. Some days, 40 million views. Can't lie … that was fun. Stressful, but fun.
I got no choice in the matter. I do my part. There are 200 million of us. If everyone else does their part? Whatever that may be. We have a chance.
Signed, glass half full …
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As usual … comments are closed [we simply don't have the huss. To host any blog discussions (Ace always had en pointe participants/discussions)].