I will return tomorrow.

I resolved my legal issues today.

I am off for my vacation with the county come August 11th.

I will return writing tomorrow.

Alot of writing will be laid down before my thirty day departure.

I will be well.

I will write better.

Especially on Wednesday.

Let the hump BEGIN ...

Yesterday I turned 31. I have never felt too moved by a change of age. Yesterday I was and continue to be today. I have had a receding hairline forever. The recession is on pause for now. When I was a pre-teen I wanted to be the guy on the Seagram’s Wine Coolers commercials. Damn you Bruce Willis! I have my grays, all over my head, and at this point half of my beard is white, not gray - white.

All of my big milestone birthdays so far have just been passing rites that I pretty much passed on participating in. When I determined the massive influx of responsibility for everyone starting around sixteen in comparison to the amount of time and energy and effort and expense of freedom in order to ‘handle’ said responsibility, I decided that any birth day beyond sixteen was a drag. I came up with this ‘stellar’ theory when I was 14 or 15.

Sixteen - big deal! Eighteen - whoopee - voting and cigarettes! My 21^st birthday was spent having two 7&7’s at a sailor’s bar in Gloucester MA the night before my ex-wife killed my first child. It certainly was not bar hopping in Boston, to say the least.

It was then that birthdays officially became a ‘who gives a fuck’ holiday that I just don’t care too much about or have any expectations of.

Turning thirty last year was just another day. Just another ‘whatever’ day.

As of yesterday, I actually feel older. I actually look older. It is as if a decade of time at fallen from the sky and landed square on my head. I will get over it or become complacent with my new outlook of my age. It just feels different. Somehow I am back to square one with too much to ponder.

I received a coffee maker for my big day from my Lady and my boss took me out to lunch and threw an extra fifty bucks into my paycheck. Over all not a bad day.

Last night I treated myself to sushi with my Lady who does not eat sushi but rather prefers a good bowl of Miso soup and a salad. No table or teppan yaki (although they have them), we went straight to the sushi bar. I was a glutton. I ate and ate and ate and ate. It was a mastication marathon.

I will give it to you ‘Lunch With The FT’ style:

New Shogun

Mission Viejo, CA

1x Edamame

1x House Salad

1x Miso Soup

1x Dynamite Roll

1x Caterpillar Roll

1x Rainbow Roll

2x Tekka Maki

1x Volcano Roll (Tomago broiled Scallops served over cold California Rolls with Smelt Egg)

2x Large Asahi

1x Large Hot Sake

Total w/ tip: $65.00

I do like my sushi. I used to eat far more than that when I would go in my youth. Many more beers and so many more hot sake. With each glass of beer I used to drop in a raw Quail’s Egg. Sushi for me used to be quite a production. I would easily, in the past, have dropped over 200 dollars for two. I am growing more meek and mild with time. I know what I like better these days and I know what effort is worth giving to get those results.

This morning I woke up much earlier than normal. Yes, another early Sunday. I felt the same way about my age. It had not changed. Although the carriage became a pumpkin again, Cinderella still remembered the Ball. I thought of how nice it was to have had a great dinner. How nice it felt to go to bed early with the air conditioning blasting away. I started thinking about how politics applied to sushi. Frighteningly it began to make a lot of sense, I mean A LOT of sense.

Stick with me on this, it is worth it.

Step back and swing the big ol’ crazy brush like Bob Ross knifing on some Titanium White for the back ground of the snowy field. Politics, as a theorem and structure, is needed to set up and fuel a government and civilization. Sushi, as a food - keep it general - food, is needed to build and fuel a person and society.

Are you with me or did I make you think I was so nutso that you have already stopped reading?

Ok zoom in a bit closer. Politics , as general association to ideals, laws, and morals, can be broken down into parties. Of course we all know that. Republican, Democrat, Libertarian, Green, American Socialist Workers, Independent. When looking at sushi ,we can make the breakdown of it from a general ‘food’ to a more specific but still segregated ‘Asian food’. So, someone who cares for Indian may hate Thai. Someone who craves Cantonese may be repulsed by the thought of eating sushi. A sushi lover may hate Vietnamese, Persian, or Schezuan. It is very individual to each person but all of those cuisine lovers are still eating ‘Asian food’. Democrats and Republicans are both playing politics.

When measuring up political play you are really taking into consideration the amount of time, energy and passion as well as interaction spent with the topics. How much news do you watch? Do you vote? When voting do you vote for everything, on every ballot? Do you research the policies, legislation and people that you are voting for? Do you not vote because you do not take the time to research? How many news sources do you use to get your information? Do you look at global, national, or both? Do you read the Sports section? Do you follow the market? Do you volunteer for your party, a candidate, or a committee trying to get legislation passed? Do you write your congressman? Do you know your who your Congressman is? Do you know what your Congressman has done?

How much do you participate in something that effects you in some way or another everyday?

You can pretty much sum up the dedication of a sushi eater. You can tell how much commitment they have to their love of sushi. The timid eater munching on California Rolls and Tempura is comparable to the person who catches news here and there on the radio or through co workers and doesn’t really watch the news.

The more adventurous connoisseur will be delighting in their raw rolls of pretty colors such as Rainbow Rolls or Alaska Rolls and smacking their lips as they chow down every little speck of salmon. Sometimes I think this level of eater to be like a grizzly bear smacking around in the river. Anyhow, this is the nightly news watcher who reads at least one Sunday Paper or reads the weekly daily editions, maybe even subscribes to a magazine or two. At least you can talk sushi with this person and say ‘Tekka Maki’ and not have to say ‘Tuna Roll.’

That brings us to the fanatic. The guy who eats everything. You can have an exception or two of distaste - mine are Sea Urchin and Abalone: I do not care for either of them - but you have to know about and have tried everything else that is going on. You don’t know if you like something until you’ve tried it - mother’s with vegetables and leather clad women with whips around the world rejoice and unite at me having said that and agreed with you!

The politico like this is a consumption machine. Watches AND enjoys C-Span. Reads more than three newspapers daily and reads news online on at least 10 different sites. Investigates everything they vote on and debate. Writes letters and tries to make a difference for what they believe. Every bite of a topic is another delicious culinary opportunity to explore again. The day of this person is news, news, news, and then a little more news. Most people are not like this armchair pundit/sushi glutton.

The last and worst is the denier. Someone who does not even try sushi. Someone who will not even donate 10 minutes of a week to brush up on the news unless it is in Glamour or People or GQ or Playboy. Both love to talk about something that they hate so much that they nothing about it. On and on and on.

“God, how could you eat that?”

“It smells like an aquarium in here!”

“News is just so depressing”

“I have no control over what happens so who cares, it’s a waste of time!”

“It’s the President’s fault”

That last one could be saying that about any of our Presidents, ANY of them, and still be held in the same regard as the other blind hatred statements.

I think most people are of the first type. They’ll eat tempura. They’ll eat California Rolls. Headlines and water-cooler speak can work for now, if something major happens someone will alert their e-mail. Life is more than safety through ignorance.

Saying 'Tuna Roll' to an expert and expecting Tekka Maki is a mistake, a door way into a conversation of which level of tuna and part of tuna do you want for there are so many types you would be surprised.

I have learned what I like to eat and just recently have learned to stop and enjoy what I am so desirously wanting to devour. I have my moods of consumption but I never rule anything out. There are maybe about 6 things that I will not eat and that is from a category of global proportions.

You must eat. You have to be able to grasp what is going on around you and know what you are talking about.

Tables must be sat at, in both instances. Don't forget your napkin.

Some people say 'they rather starve'.

I am an eater. I eat.

Blow the smoke caterpillar, I want some more river eel …

I was going to get in a big to-do about this damn story that I heard about yesterday afternoon on the radio. I came home and read the article that the radio program was referring to. Part of me is happy and part of me is really disgusted and angry. The angry part is why I am writing this very serious post this morning as opposed to last night. I have calmed down enough to write it before I go to work and still sleepy enough that I will leave most of the commentary up to the readers.

Woodrow Wilson made this statement while speaking to a group of new American citizens in 1915:

“I certainly would not be the one to even suggest that a man cease to love the home of his birth and the nation of his origin. These things are very sacred and ought not to be put out of our hearts. But it is one thing to love the place where you were born, and it is another to dedicate yourself to America unless you become in every respect and with every purpose of your will thoroughly Americans. You can not become thoroughly Americans if you think of yourself in groups. A man who thinks of himself as belonging to a particular national group in America has not yet become an American, and a man who goes among you to trade upon your nationality is not worth to live under the stars and stripes.”

On July 6^th, 2006 Los Angeles ILLEGAL immigrant Angela Magdaleno gave birth to quadruplets. All four of the babies are American citizens which their Mother and Father are not. Angela has been here for 22 years and still can not speak English. Spanish is the only language, as well, for 28 year veteran ILLEGAL Anzaldo, her husband. The newborn’s have 6, yes that’s right six, siblings who are Americans by birth, three of which are triplets and one of those was born with hydrocephalus and has needed multiple surgeries.

We, American taxpayers, have paid for all of these births and all of the healthcare for these children. We pay for their schooling. We pay for their food via school lunch and breakfast, food stamps, and WIC. We pay for the monthly income supplements that they receive per child from the welfare department. These people chose to have sex and multiply in a country that they entered ILLEGALLY while living in a one bedroom apartment that they could barely afford before the triplets, never mind the level of poverty and dependence attained after the arrival of the quadruplets. We keep paying and paying and paying. They just keep coming and coming (in certainly more ways than one).

The last 7 of their children were conceived in one way or another due to their ‘need’ to have a son. The triplets are a result of so many fertilization drugs that a friend was bringing to her from Mexico that she can’t remember what any of them were called. Pills and injections all day long after you already have children, daughters. This is also after a tube tie and reversal. Poof! Triplets. And just a short three years afterward: Four More - and I do not mean years for a President.

I know most people reading this have already become familiar with my stance on ILLEGAL immigration or you are discovering for the first time how I despise the situation and think I am a racist moron. Regular readers: this is different than what I have written before. Offended Newbies: Piss Off and move to Mexico!

First, now that you have a bit of background on the story you should read it for yourself:

(http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-quadruplets28jul28,0,931508.story?page=1&track=tothtml)

The twist to the story that needs to be shared or pointed out is the way that Angela’s sisters made it. The way they moved onto Lexington Kentucky and are fluent in English, have applied and received citizenship, have kept the baby count low, own homes and businesses. There success.

Angela’s sister said, "We're in a state where there's nothing but Americans. The police control the streets. It's clean, no gangs. California now resembles Mexico — everyone thinks like in Mexico. California's broken."

Angela’s seventeen year old daughter who went to visit her Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins in Kentucky was shocked at how different it was. Kelly was confused that there was ‘barely one’ Spanish speaking radio station and that there was no Spanish newspapers. She was blown away and befuddled by the big words her Kentucky family used. She is quoted as saying that her 7 year old cousin has a higher reading level than her and speaks far better English. She also didn’t understand why none of the Hispanic teen age girls she met were not already taking care of at least one baby. Kelly thought it was very, very weird and exclaimed, "The girls right here in Los Angeles are like in Mexico. There are girls that are 14, they got kids."

So what is the big deal? Right? We need to embrace the unification of diversity. We need to let our country become a balkanized multicultural bastion for non assimilated isolationists living with a peasant mentality that drains our coffers.

I will try my damndest to not let that happen.

There are hard working immigrants that end up going about things the right way at some point during their journey to becoming a stable citizen here in America.

Unfortunately, most are not doing what Angela’s sisters have done. Most are just like Angela.

Angela’s 20 year old daughter is a high school drop out who makes dolls for Disney.

In a speech from 1907 Theodore Roosevelt said:

“In the first place we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this predicated upon man’s becoming in very fact an American, and nothing but an American … There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn’t an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag, and this excludes the red flag, which symbolizes wars against liberty and civilization, just as much as it excludes any foreign flag of a nation to which we are hostile … We have room for but one language here, and it is the English language … and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that loyalty is to the American people.”

If you still haven’t clicked the link and read all three pages of the story then you should right now.

It won’t take you long. You need to read the whole damn thing.

Really think about what the story is saying, what the people are saying, and what the reporter is saying with how he says things.

In case your too lazy to scroll:

(http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-quadruplets28jul28,0,931508.story?page=1&track=tothtml)

Read, Damn It!

Monday’s mask will soon be revealed. What is underneath the mask …

Hello, Friday! I guess I am going to take a stab at headline updates and then waltz my way over to what is, or should be, the big National Story today. This will be the current events merry-go-round and I will jump of the ride for the big story.

I have been writing numerous pieces per post day, so if you are only checking out one story on Mon - Wed - Fri then, chances are, you are missing at least one other story.

Hellz Wind Staff …

I started my day checking a bit of e-mail and viewing some of the headlines that AOL was offering up as news. At the bottom of the page was a picture of my hot mama lust bucket. Hello Cindy Sheehan! She is so hot! She has used insurance money from her son’s valiant death to become a mini real estate tycoon in, of all places, Crawford Texas. Cindy has purchased five acres adjacent to President Bush’s ranch. Can you imagine waking up every morning for the rest of your life and going out into the day to ride the ranch and upon reaching the perimeter of your property you get to see that fat ass whiney rambling delusional bitch screaming at you? It would be enough to hang yourself. Get a rope.

This led me to the serial killer twin contest. Have you seen pictures of Bill Bradford (http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-072706photographer,0,7755159.story?coll=la-home-headlines) or Robert Charles Brown (http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,206053,00.html). Bill Bradford is on death row in California. Recently the evidence boxes were being sorted and moved and numerous (over fifty) photographs were re-discovered. They were all of young girls apparently posing for this amateur photographer and fledgling serial killer. The photos were made public in hopes of identifying the women and determining if Bradford had killed more than just the two women he is convicted of killing. Robert Charles Brown is a Colorado killer who is claiming to have killed 49 women which would put him one over the tally of the ’Green River Killer’, Gary Ridgway. Some think the all time record of mutilation goes to Henry Lee Lucas but a lot of his confessions and claims turned out to be false. Either way, Bradford and Brown look bizarrely similar and I found this as funny as I find their actions disturbing.

Not quite comparably disturbing is the apparent cover up of ’Holier than Thou’ Mel Gibson and his run in with the police on Pacific Coast Highway shortly after two this morning (http://www.cnn.com/2006/SHOWBIZ/Movies/07/28/gibson.dui/index.html). When pulled over for speeding the officer had smelled alcohol on Mel’s breath. He was then arrested for ’suspicion of driving under the influence’. He was detained for a few hours and then was released on 5,000 dollars bail. Unless you exceed twice the legal limit of 0.08% Blood Alcohol Content or it is a multiple offense you are not detained with the requirement of release upon payment of bail. Either he was plowed or he has done this before, either way negating the preface of ’suspicion’. Let’s just call it D.U.I. People make mistakes and can change. I know fully of what I speak. My complaint, or ’suspicion’, is of the charges not the actions or the character of the man being charged.

While we are talking about charges, I got a charge out of Emanuel Cleaver Jr. (http://www.house.gov/cleaver/index.shtml). His ‘taint ranting was found to be especially humorous by many but the joke I have not heard about the ramblings of this Missouri Congressman was his use of the word ‘taint. He meant it to be a play on words between ‘tainted’ and ‘it ain’t’ - taint. I know taint to be something completely different. Other words I would use would be ‘grundle’, ‘chode’, or ‘sweet spot’. This is how the Congressman used it:

“They claim 5.4 [million] new jobs. That's true, except that's after losing 2.7[million]. So we actually have a 2.7 [million] job gain. Tain't enough. $5.15 minimum wage? Tain't enough! Five-percent of the containers are actually being looked at in this country? Tain't enough! I'm telling you, we have 202 Democrats in the House. Tain't enough! Fifty-four [sic--forty-four] senators in the United States Senate. Tain't enough! I'm telling you, America is ready to get enough, and the only way we can get enough is to go into a new direction.”

These are the words of a United States Congressman.

We are in a World of hurt if this is who could possibly be representing us on any level.

The last story to be mentioned would be the surplus of names that are to be found on the memorial for the victims of 9-11. It would appear that they have an extra forty-five names (http://news.aol.com/topnews/articles/_a/fake-names-feared-on-911-memorial/n20060728194209990008?cid=2194). I think that is very, very frightening. I hope the extra names do not include Cindy Sheehan, Bill Bradford, Robert Charles Brown, Mel Gibson, or Emanuel Cleaver Jr. I hope that they did include Eugueni Kniazev, a Siberian immigrant who was killed in the attacks. Three years after his death immigration officials declared him a citizen. They were unaware that he was deceased. This is a loophole that should not be tolerated. Let’s hope his name did not slip through a hole in the planning of the memorial.

There is one little tid bit that really, really peeved me today. Let me start by saying the ‘Over-the-Top Politically Correct’ world, lingo and requirements of interaction really piss me off. The World is NOT politically correct and will never be, so the perfect world people should pack up and stop bitching or insisting on the use of language that tends to be muted, over simplified, and incorrect. It really confuses the thesaurus society as they are already using incorrect words. There is a man in Orange County California named Bob Slater. He runs a ‘multi-cultural arts series’ at the San Juan Capistrano Library. Yes, the same San Juan known for the missions and the swallows. His wife recently passed away and he wrote brief blurb about it on the flier for the library’s upcoming events. He referred to it as his ‘life-partner’ ‘transcending’. Are we really that stupid and pretentious and up tight that we can’t just say ‘wife’ and ‘dead’ or ‘died’? Ok, I understand that the man is experiencing a loss, I will be gentle. What really pissed me off was the fact that he talks about racism and sexism and all the other isms as being “dated ideas based on fear” and then refers to his view point and his deceased wife’s as a “Vision of a Better World” - the capitals are his doing. When you look inside the pamphlet to see what entertainment will be performing at the library you find a list of six acts. One of them is Chris Hillman (of Byrds fame) with Herb Pedersen. There is one act from Africa known as Thomas Mapfumo and Black Spirits. The other four are Latino acts. I guess having an almost all Hispanic music agenda is considered diverse and multi-cultural. Such a sad World.

I was debating writing about the penis painter from the Australian Sex Festival whose name was Pricasso but I will refrain from further details.

Ok. I have exorcised the headlines.

The priest has dropped the Holy Water. The crucifix is back in it’s leather sheath.

Now it is time to hit the real story, the one that has probably not escaped L.A. yet.

Maybe I will wait til the a.m. to pound it out.

Either way, until Monday …

I wanted to even things out in my folder.

This could leave me typing in two’s.

I am reading a lot these days. I have walked out through the garden of 19^th century Russian literature and down the flag stone garden rows of beat creation.

I like writing this political drivel. It leaves me at ease. Able to express myself beyond the ballot box and not suck up the eye rolls as if they were sushi luncheon.

Lemonade burns the chest far too much like the sauce. Burn, baby burn, Heartburn inferno!

I do not have any sort of ‘reflux’ disease. The only things of ‘GERT’ I know revolve around the film E.T.

I hold my breath in Turkish baths in hopes that my lungs clear up as I know the sinus does.

I love a Finnish Sauna - which is much different than what we have come to know here.

I hate L.A.

I despise people.

New York is nice enough when the moons fall just right.

San Francisco isn’t half bad either if the washing is out of the way.

I seethe over the concept of fishing but I crave a burger joint.

Top down and trays touched tight. Nothing beats a root beer right!

And all the girls of gawked and gazed.

Done away by peel outs and metal music from other days as the rap fights on and the burgers go away for some other taste of other days and all that never once could be in thoughts of comprehension, me, that always new the end would soon be near.

Something told me to keep on with the ‘keep on’.

Til Friday, when days come with more salt …