Batter Up

The Montana Green Party is back in federal district court trying one more time to regain access to the November, 2018 general election ballot.  While it is often hard to see the sense of what one does, I remind myself that some 10,000 Montana voters signed the petition to grant us a chance to compete with the corporate-owned parties in this election cycle.  http://www.krtv.com/story/38882281/montana-green-party-files-suit-in-federal-court-to-gain-ballot-access

For me, this will be the third time challenging Montana’s election laws in federal court.  We’re batting 1000, so why stop now?  Both previous victories, however, did not result in placing the name(s) of candidates on the ballot.  This time is a little different.  Green candidates were certified for the election by the Sec. of State and county clerks before being removed in July by a state judge and Democratic Party — the complainant.

My question:  If elections mean nothing, why all the tight sphincters across state and federal agencies and the MSM when a no-name, third-party candidate gains ballot access in a tiny western state like Montana?

I hope to find out the answer in November.

A reunion

Too much time on the highway and in motels results in stuff like this. We are back now – I didn’t want to say anything, but might as well spit it out – I attended my fiftieth high school class reunion. I graduated from Billings Central Catholic High School in 1968. Good lord am I old!

A few reflections:

  • I look pretty good. Most of my classmates have put on pounds and have not stayed in shape. I guess we just reach a point where we give up, but I have not yet gotten there. I still have dark hair, have controlled my weight, and work out often.
  • We were a class of 115. Thirteen have died.
  • My class rank was 87, and I like to joke that for that reason I thought our class size must have been … 87. I was not a good student, and did not light up until later, in college. I was told by teachers that I lacked direction, and that my standardized tests were in the high percentiles, so that I was underachieving.

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Me and Mrs. Jones

In Jim Jones: The Fake Early Years, Mark devoted some of the article to Jim Jones’ genealogy. Of course, this piqued my interest, so I decided to see if I could dig a little deeper. What I discovered has me somewhat baffled since it was so easily unearthed. If the information was purposely planted, I can’t imagine what the motive could have been. On the other hand, if the connection is authentic, I don’t understand why it was not covered up. But before I divulge that “strange relation,” I’d like to share some other discoveries I stumbled upon relating to Jim Jones’ mother, Lynetta Putnam(This article will be my small contribution to the impressive amount of information already accumulated by Gaia.)

Jim’s mother is only mentioned six times on his Wiki page, and four of those instances are in the “Explanatory Notes”:

  1. While Jim Jones claimed to be partially of Cherokee descent through his mother Lynetta, this story was apparently not true.
  2. Lynetta’s cousin Barbara Shaffer said, “there wasn’t an ounce of Indian in our family.”
  3. Shaffer said that Lynetta was Welsh.
  4. The birth records for Lynetta have since been lost.

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Standing in the midst of whirling snow and blinding mist …

I am prepared now to go forward with the Jim Jones series, starting with his early life. That will come tomorrow or the day after. What has happened so far is good, lots of input which I have not and will not read until my own work, such as it is, is done.

This is, however, a diversion. While in Europe I ran out of reading material, and when we got home found nothing of interest. But while in college I was introduced to two volumes, The American Intellectual Tradition, edited by David A. Hollinger and Charles Capper. They have sat on my bookshelf for years.

My intent was to go back and reread a selection from Thorstein Veblen’s The Theory of the Leisure Class wherein he introduces for the first time the concept of “conspicuous consumption.” When in college (and I told the professor this) the man’s words simply did not penetrate my thick cranium*. I kept losing focus. The professor, a wise man, simply smiled and said don’t worry. My intent yesterday was to read it again to see if the cranium had lost some of its bone mass.

But I stumbled and never got there, instead reading a portion of William James’ The Will to Believe. I am a great admirer of this man and his pristine and probing intellect, first having read about him in Louis Menand’s The Metaphysical Club, and then reading his (very accessible) series of lectures that came to be known as The Varieties of Religious Experience (available as a free download at Gutenberg).

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Pro$perity Pu$hers: It’s Pat!

Donald Trump, Pat Robertson

With this article, I’m going to purposely end my “Prosperity Pushers” series.  It should be obvious to anyone with a frontal cortex that these televangelists and megachurches are psyops being funded by tax dollars.  I’m currently developing an interest in a philosophy called Stoicism and will (hopefully) be conveying some positive information in the future.  In the meantime, here’s Pat.

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The Sewing Circle (Part 2)

This pet project is just my opinion based on the lifestyles of the subjects profiled.

Sewing Circle is a phrase used to describe the underground, closeted lesbian and bisexual film actresses and their relationships in Hollywood, particularly during Hollywood’s golden age from the 1910s to the 1950s.  The actress Alla Nazimova coined this usage.  Some of the actresses that I will be profiling in this series were rumored or admitted lesbians.  The remainder were childless and/or unmarried throughout their lives.  Since women can have several reasons for not having children, this does not prove anything.  Decide for yourself.

NOTE:  I am only profiling actresses who were prominent enough in their day to have a relatively detailed Wikipedia page (including a photo.)  There are many more secondary and character actresses who could be added to the list. 

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A Day in the Life

The following story is just one of many email exchanges that are shared between myself and the great friend of POM, Annette (aka Annspinwall.)  She felt that this would be a worthy human interest story to share with a broader audience, and I agreed (after some cajoling.)

Hi Annette,

This message is a long one.  You may want to save it for bedtime.

As you know, this morning I did my first “salt flush.”  You may also recall that around lunchtime, thanks to said flush, I reported feeling hungry in a healthier kind of way.  I decided to forgo eating until dinnertime but wanted a cup of coffee.  Since it was such a beautiful day today, I decided to go to a nearby convenience store instead of making it myself (something that I rarely do.)  Before I proceed, I must back up a bit.

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