I was not prepared to accept this comment from XE on first reading. It sat uncomfortably even as I know I can be fooled, and have been time and again.
I watched the movie Grizzly Man in 2005, and we met Timothy Treadwell at a lecture in either Bozeman or Billings, Montana. That created personal interest. What I wrote before was the result of twelve-year-old memories.
Back then I did not watch movies with a discerning eye. I still thought jets flew through buildings like a knife through butter. I thought that elections were real, that news was essentially a (distorted) reflection of reality, and that a movie labeled “documentary” by its makers would be an honest enterprise.
I had to watch the movie again, and did yesterday afternoon.
Continue reading “Grizzly deaths”
[Note to readers: This post should be two, as it covers both the movie Grizzly Man (the life and death of Timothy Treadwell), and Woody Harrelson and his dad, Chuck, and the discovery that Harrelson’s mother is an Oswald. Grizzly Man will be covered in more and better depth in a separate post very shortly. The part about Harrelson in this post starts about 2/3 of the way down. ]
Coming fresh off the realization that the death of Mathew Shepard was probably a hoax, and thinking back on other events in my life that were both gruesome and captivating, I decided to take a look at Grizzly Man, AKA Timothy Treadwell, AKA Timothy William Dexter.
For those not familiar, Treadwell was an advocate for Alaskan brown bears, and during the 1990s he lived with them, filmed them, anthropomorphized them, and was finally eaten by them in October of 2003. His then girlfriend, Amie Huguenard was also killed on that same day.
We saw Treadwell give a talk when we lived in Bozeman. He gave a slide show and was passing the hat, and seemed genuine. He named all the bears – doll-like names indicating that he thought of them as fuzzy friends. One thing I clearly remember from the talk was his view of the bear mating ritual. The male gets a whiff and stalks the female until she is in a receiving mood. He then has a one minute tryst with her, if that. Treadwell called it “making love.” I did think he was a little ’round the bend.’
Continue reading “Was Dealey Plaza just a family reunion?”
Steve is a man in his mid-thirties, married with a young child. He expresses himself well. He is a bit of an idealist, that is, he uses words like “authentic” in describing people and looks for meaning behind things like mini-malls. (Idealism is always about “What does it mean? What does it really mean?”) He’s aware of reputation, how far words travel, how meaningless Facebook friendship can be.
He is apparently feeling some stress, as we all do, at having to produce a constant flow of income into his household to keep it afloat. He realizes this will never end.
Continue reading “And now for something completely different”
This photo appeared on Facebook recently, someone commemorating the 19th year of Matt Shepard’s passing. Since his death was inspiration for major legislation regarding “hate crimes,” I reluctantly thought I should take a look at it.
“Please be real! Please be real!” I thought. I don’t want another project.
It is fishy. Very fishy. Just eighteen months after the Shepard event we would be asked to believe that two psychopathic murderers just happened to be classmates at Columbine. Here are we asked to believe that two kids in Laramie, Wyoming also just happened to be natural-born killers. Such people are rare. That they would hook up in a small town like Laramie, Wyoming … is there something in the water? Continue reading “The Mathew Shepard killing looks like another hoax”
This video, and no doubt others like it, is making the rounds on Facebook, the current and most widely used propaganda outlet for not only politicians, but hucksters of every stripe. I suggested to the Democrat that put it up that if he cannot detect fake outrage here, his right to vote should be rescinded. He suggested that I limit my criticism to “your own page,” an indication that he has unfollowed me. For a Democrat in Montana, criticism of Tester is like farting in church.
It is easy to see from the backdrop above, sound-absorbing panels with cheesy posters featuring Tester’s home state of Montana on them, that he is in a studio. That means that everything, including the paper bill he uses, is a prop. I imagine that he is looking at either a Teleprompter, or cue cards. His voice is perhaps a third higher in octave than normal, indicating some serious lying going on, like a kid saying “I didn’t eat those cookies, Mom! Honest! I didn’t!”
Continue reading “Another Kabuki Dance”
“The American people don’t read.” (Allen Dulles, 1963)
I have long believed that the best way to hide something from public view in our country is to put it in a book. I have been reading one by Peter H. Duesberg,, “Inventing the AIDS Virus,” with the idea in the back of my mind that it would make great fodder for a long and informative blog post.
But then I realized that the best way for dissemination the information in the book is to suggest people read the book. It is all there, it is indisputable. HIV does not cause AIDS. It is a harmless passenger virus. The main culprit in the rise of AIDS is not a virus, but rather personal habits in certain population segments, most notably drug abuse, primarily in the homosexual population. Among the many debilitating drugs they took during the heyday of the rise of AIDS were nitrite inhalants, also called “poppers,” which intensified orgasms and relaxed muscle tension, thereby making anal intercourse easier. Nitrites were the single largest cause of the AIDS “epidemic.”
Continue reading “Exit Cold War, enter AIDS”
The following comment is by Jack33, a commenter brought here long ago by our friend Annette. He has given me permission to reprint it.
Jack33 linked me to the Cleburne Times Review, an annoying pop-up infested newspaper that quickly insists on subscription to access its branded tripe, warning that we are given only five clicks before before the wall goes up. Use your clicks wisely! We don’t want to miss it if the Times Review accidentally prints something true or, God forbid, insightful.
(I would like to see some data on the number of people who actually subscribe to distant newspapers based on this this marketing ploy. My guess: Zero.)
Continue reading “Hearses fall like manna from heaven”