Are we Doomed to Repeat It?


Just Klikdapik if you want the word on the offensive confederate statues that have blighted the land and caused proper ‘Southern Belles’ to get the ‘vapors ‘ . Such a bronze graffiti cannot be left to traumatize another generation of snowflakes, as they have for the last 100+ years.
We can only hope that others will learn from our example and destroy religious stuff. These images in particular offend my Secular humanistic sensitivities……

Of course the authors feelings could not be more opposed to my facetious chirping above. The greatness and folly of mankind’s mark upon history, the depth and richness of the culture are brought to life in these icons. Right or wrong they are our history….about us.

Hello my name is Winston Smith. I have a good government job. I rewrite history, so that it will match and support the beliefs of the present and create a history that suits our needs. Have a good day!  But remember,  (whispered)” Those who refuse to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”



Our Savior the Buboes


So what’s the beef? There are far too many people right now. The results of the great “black death” outbreaks during the middle ages trimmed back an over-populated Europe to a point that people could feed themselves and their families again.  After the decay of Rome, Europe became a ghetto of small, struggling clutches of starving, illiterate groups of one or a few families who waited in fear for the next “army ” to pass through to kill rape and plunder” No police, no protective force, no more than random chance that you would not wake up  annihilated  . The plagues opened the way for societies to develop into the renascence. A re-start of western culture could be directly attributed to the culling of the bubonic plague.



meullar speaks


The reaction of the Mainstream Press as well as the Democratic National Committee. There is a quiet silence in the soul of everyone who has had to be a target of false claims, the American public exhales a sigh of weariness “just tired of being misled by the powers that be. below is the Mainstream Media tarrying to find out which of their operatives leaked the information that the Democrats, not the Republicans had a full-fledged fake dossier fabricated to spin charges of collusion etc. ….. Lets atake a look at some Dems discussing who the leaker is and where can they hide there money, The Caymans….or Switzerland?


I think It’s Something Toxic in the Hats

Don’t worry about the clown in the cowboy hat,  ( D Rep  Frederica Wilson) and other garish accessories. Worry about the fact that she got enough votes to gain a position of power. If America was any more  evolved than   a day care play room this bafffoon would  not get much more than a nanosecond of air time.

Some times, when you listen in on a  private call then use it for personal political agrandisment… backfires.


Whoring for a Gotchya!!


POTUS has been skinned by a histrionic cow-girl in shellacked and sequined cowboy hats and sundry sequined outfits for doing what? For doing the right thing!. A phone call to a Gold Star Family expressing condolences. There is no way to beguile the pain of such loss the right way. No one  can succeed at making the immeasurable pain of losing a loved one go away. You do the best you can an accept there is nothing you can do to fix it. You can express your sympathy and not much more. But that simple truth seems lost on the info monger who are taffy-pulling this story out the door and down the block. But you can sigh, take a reflective moment, feel for the family then move on. Unless, of course, you have an ax to grind and the sensitivity of a pimp like our midnight cowgirl, Dem. Frederica Wilson.




My previous posting on the healing qualities of family defines the differences between secular, Judeo/Christian values and a culture of ignorance as revealed in the linked article.  I am sure that if this little gem had been allowed to make it to puberty, she would have stood a good chance to enjoy the Bhurka, and genital mutilation that come to many females of the Muslim persuasion around age 12.


My Little Savior


Best picture I have of the couple , “John and Deb” . That’s why I use it so much. And having the Parthenon as a backdrop is pretty cool. But this is a story about hero’s and the lessons of life.

I am 6’3″ around two hundred pounds in height and weight. Deb, the nymph at my side is five two and 110 pounds weight on any given day.

We have been through a rough gauntlet this past decade what with a cluster of strokes kicking off a decade marked by death and disease of family members as well as financial difficulties related to my disability and inability to work. I have just discharged from the hospital.a couple of days ago with pneumonia and a bottle of antibiotics. This comes on the heel spending a couple of years tending to Debs father in the latter days of his dementia. All of us, contributed in fulfilling Debs promise to keep Ivan, (her father) in the home rather than neatly ensconced in a nursing home, ran us been run through the ringer of a very angry man with a brain disorder and related behaviors that  were so severe that we couldn’t  find a place willing to take him even if we were to wish that it be so.. Wedged between Ivan and my strokes I lost my motherand older brother within three months of each other, (unexpectedly).

Through it all I fought the fight to remain above physically and spritualy above ground asage and some early wild living caught up with me and took its toll in spades. Problems marched through my life putting me in the hospital several times. Ivan has passed, we get a call. One of my daughters has stage 3 breast cancer with some spread to her lymphatic system. She, her  good hubby and four children are with us now. Concomitant with this development my COPD reared it’s ugly head and now I spend some time every day on oxygen.In short, the last 7 years added up a millennia, or, so it seemed.:

  • 3 strokes
  • My mother dies
  • 3 months later my older brother dies (unexpected, an aneurism ruptured)
  • Appendix ruptured, but thinking it an old hernia I let it go for a week. I was so close to death when I finally saw my doctor about it. from the of my doctors office call and the opening incision was less than an hour.. The appendix  had been ruptured a week or so. and fecal material was filling up my thoracic cavity for a week. It took two Doctors over an hour to scoop all the shit out of me. ZIP dodged a bullet again.
  • Now, after a year of guarding a hostile, violent, sexually inappropriate dementia victim from hurting himself. (I must emphasize he was a rather rigid but otherwise nice fellow before his brain began to shrival).
  •  Oh! Yes, wedged between the dementia and my burst appendix, Three of my step daughters lost their father to a truck/train collision..

My daughters and son in law fought the good fight and I am proud of them…..but I found myself stuck in a paralytic state of intense agitated depression as I chaffed at my canula leash – time caring for Ivan wore on. I didn”t know whether I was going to survive Ivan or if he would be attending my funeral pretty soon.  As I wallowed in my depression, grieving over my shriveling physical capabilities and advancing age, the family did the best they could to take care of Ivan and as it turned out, tending to me when my lungs began failing.. I  could not handle the rarefied atmosphere of the Ute pass. Soon after Ivan’s passing we moved back to the plains at the foot of the front  range of the Rockies because I became prone to passing out unexpectedly and it was scaring the women in the family to death. But my depression and sense of having been an utter failure in life gave death an attractive luster. I became more beguiled by defeating my situation than just ending it.

Now that daughter with cancer is here and we 15 in the household, I have stopped sucking my thumb and come to the realization that as long as I love this family and show it  strong and quiet love, I am part of the strength and healing vital to the heart of the family. At the age of 61 I finally learned what true success is. I came to feel that I was a man of limitless wealth. Money had nothing to do with it. You can be a depressed drip driving your Lamborghini down highway 101 on the California coast with money in your pocket and the world by the testes and still be the body found in a Lamborghini with a cooling pistol in your hand.


Deb is tiny. She has this huge quilted coat that gives her the look of a little tee-pee with a pretty face on top. After discharge from the hospital I couldn,t even manage to check the oil on my pick-up. Feeling useless, I sat in the cab wondering how she was going to do the job when the top of the engine was up to her nose. I watched in true wonder as she popped the hood and scampered (sporting her huge coat) up the front grill of my Silverado.  She carefully chose her grips and foot-holds on the face of the engine, and with a  few quick heaves she pulled herself up and onto the manifold under the hood.  Squatting on the engine, she checked the oil and added a quart  before nimbly climbing back to the ground and shutting the hood.


My daughter with cancer sat one morning, feet tucked up under her and staring off at whatever was in her head. She had shaved most of her hair off but with the tuft she left up top it gave the impression her “do” was a deliberate fashion choice. She was quite serene.


The pik shown here does no justice. but the fact remains that she has been gifted with such strong, beautiful, features, she cannot look bad. Even through the silent tears we have shared, she possessed effortless, heart breaking dignity. I am humbled and have no right to bitch about my pitiable condition with a daughter so strong.

I could go on for hours talking about my girls and their gifts, but today I will do just this.

I have been, through Amy, ( my oldest) and her steady and selfless help, Sherry and her example of a family done right, and Margi, my middle child, who gave us refuge when Deb and I found ourselves homeless and afoot, and last but not least, Alexandra and her precious gift of LaRay my brand-new granddaughter.. From which she has rallied and excelled. Now she is another star in my sky,…..

So as I sit here watching  my little Tee-Pee gingerly scamper across the engine. taking care of business as I realize I have not failed at making my mark in the world. I have not failed to find the top of Everest and the pot of gold. It has been a long and winding path to my grand epiphany, I am winner of winners. I am the great and powerful King of the most important place…….a family that loves itself and children who can now teach me how to fight the good fight.

Thank you Deb. Thank you family. You have breathed life into a soul near death and opened my eyes to beauty again. I hope to help you as much as you have helped me.