Hope and Good Will

Sometimes life throws a huge wrench in the gears of your planning.  Sometimes, without any action on your part, something happens and you just feel blindsided.  Maybe you felt you were just getting by or you were doing really well and suddenly your burdens outweigh your net earnings.  Or you simply feel like you have just enough strength and suddenly something extraordinary requires more.  Sometimes it's a weekly thing. Or perhaps you've been going through life so smoothly for a few months that you become so relaxed and stop looking for any warning signs. Your parents will live forever, right?  Your siblings will outlive you.  Or that job has always been around and plenty of other places would hire someone of your capability and caliber, correct?  And, as any parent knows, children will outlive their parents - or they should.  The thing is, if life has a message attached to it, I would think one possibility for all of us is that message could be "On guard!!" For me, and for so many others, we seem surprised when it happens.  The factory shuts down and suddenly our lives are shaken.  The child starts to run a fever and suddenly a doctor is explaining "your options".  A phone call comes in the middle of the night and your life is suddenly very different.  It's not easy being human. It certainly gets easier until it gets harder.  After so many years we even feel a little foolish when life throws that wrench at us.  How could we have been so "unprepared"?  We say things to ourselves such as "I knew things were going a little 'too' good."  or "Why would God do this to me right now?"  It's just a little coping method our minds develop to try to deal with life as a "reality" rather than some by-product of our conscious choices.  For the true secret many of us deny is our choices will never guarantee our lives to remain on any given course.  In fact, if I may be so bold, the more choices and course corrections we make tend to make those "reality checks" tougher to swallow.  My old economics professor (Mom) used to constantly talk about saving for a rainy day.  In fact, if you were to look at her checking account right now (#34765321 at Jerry's Trust and Savings) you would see a positive balance.  Financially she's prepared.  Or as prepared as she can possibly be.  Life has taught her the value of saving.  But even she will admit that anything is possible and one day can mean the difference between "living well" and "barely getting by".  Like so many other parents of children my age, my parents know what poor is.  And, through their choices, have achieved financial security through saving and a little planning.  I do remember some pretty lean years growing up and the Christmas trees of childhood usually dwarfed the amount of presents under them on Christmas morning.  No matter how many letters I wrote, Santa had to live according to a budget like so many others.  But, no matter how tight the money was, my parents still tried to give their children something.  I still remember the joy in opening up the neatly wrapped pair of socks.  And how could I ever forget the feel of brand new Christmas white undies.  My mom, like so many other moms, would use Christmas as an excuse to purchase the necessary things as well as one fun gift.  My siblings and I came to understand how much of a sacrifice was required from my parents as we became adults with our own children.  But my childhood was in the days before convenient lay-away plans and credit cards.  Christmas wasn't even shopped for until after Thanksgiving.  Heck, it wasn't even mentioned until after Thanksgiving.   The pressure for shopping for Christmas wasn't even mentioned until after the big bird was consumed.  If my parents didn't have the money to pay for presents then my siblings and I would just have to go without.  We would be sad but we didn't know any other lifestyle.  I know my parents wanted to give us the world but they had to live realistically.  Even today, with a much larger budget, every Christmas when the Rueuhy's gather for Christmas Eve and snack on snacks and await the "passing of the envelopes" from the parents and my children's grandparents, we still hear "I wish it could have been more".  But as I've grown older I realize that the mere fact they are still here, living and breathing, is an abundance of wealth for me and my siblings.  Just the fact that we can still gather as a group/family is an abundance of wealth so many others would give all their Christmas presents up for.  As I post this posting we will see Christmas of 2013 within 5 days.  If I don't receive one of those life altering phone calls I will be a blessed man.  If I awake Christmas morning and life remains relatively the same, it will be a glorious morning.  If I find no presents under a non-existent tree and my life has not seen any wrenches thrown at it then I will consider myself a richer man for it.  And if I can get through the next 5 days without one of those life changing phone calls, and a decently wrapped pair of Christmas socks, then this may be the best Christmas ever.  I can say this because I have experienced those phone calls.  I have endured holidays after loosing a job.  I have gotten the news of a loved one passing away.  I do not tell you this to make you feel sorry for me.  I only felt it was necessary to add a little perspective on the season.  May you find joy this season even if it doesn't seem possible.  May good will be your perspective even if life is handing you "good won't".  If you have nothing to offer your children or your parents this Christmas season try to remember that the best thing you can really give your loved ones, in the absence of anything else, is love.  That's the gift we got a couple of thousand years ago.  A baby.  A savior.  And that's exactly what I wanted for Christmas.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.   

More Babbling about Hobbit 2 - part two

"Spoiler alerts.  Do not read unless you want to know stuff."


I could hear them off in the distance.  A town filled with desolation and despair from 60 years of economic decline due to one dragon's peculiar addiction to gold. (No.  The name of the seaport was not Detroit.) A town lead by a crooked man who just wanted the people to blindlessly follow him. A greasy man who loved his alcohol.  And a sidekick who was even greasier and dressed in black.  The town itself used to be a hub of merchant trading but ever since the dwarfs lost their mountain to Smaug, economic decay and poverty was their trademark.  But now, because of a team of dwarfs and one burglar, the town was threatened with annihilation by the beast who's name is Smaug.  This was how Hobbit 2 ended.  Our story began with an initial meeting between Gandolph the Grey and Thorin in a tavern.  If Gandolph hadn't of shown up, the little dwarf king was about to be (que the music - dum, dum, dummmmm) murdered.  So, Thorin and Gandolph agree to take back the mountain.  Now, in our first episode of The Hobbit, our troup of adventurers find themselves dropped off on a hill by some really big birds.  The Eagles, not to be confused with the group who gave us Hotel California, are no where to be seen in Hobbit 2.  In fact, they were pretty embarrassed by the whole rescue scene where they kept dropping the little guys and having to fly in and catch them.  But I digress ... the gang of eleven and the wizard and a Hobbit named Bilbo begin the second leg of their journey through a forest filled with evil mutant spiders.  Now the evil is so thick that it alters the mind into seeing strange things and causes the traveler to feel confused and disoriented.  It reminded me of my senior trip to St. Louis so many years ago.  I was 18 and spiders still seemed pretty big to me.  And I remember how confused I felt in "the big city".  There were no spider webs though.  And I was never wrapped up in a cocoon so the similarities are minimal.  That's when the elves came.  Not the St. Louis elves.  Actually, these are the ancient pretty ones.  I never actually saw any elves on my senior trip but it wasn't really that time of year.  So, the elves save the dwarfs and then throw them in prison.  I guess that would be my first instinct after saving someone's life as well.  It's pretty typical of an elves' to-do list - 1.  Hang out in the forest.  2. Kill the big spiders.  3.  Imprison anyone we find in any cocoons.  4.  Get yelled at by the head elf 'cause we didn't kill all the spiders the first time.  6.  Fall in love with a dwarf which adds NOTHING to our story.  Well, it may have given the two elves an excuse to go off on another daring adventure after being ordered not to leave the elf land but how was she supposed to know that when she left without regard for herself cause that one dwarf was soooooo adorable and he had that shiny stone his mother had given him.  An elf's life is hard.   So Bilbo uses his ring to hide from the bad/good elves and ends up rescuing the dwarves (again).  Now escapes are hard, especially when your captors are asleep ten feet away from you.  So, the best thing to do is make the loudest noise possible and steel all the wooden barrels.  But it does make for an exciting barrel chase/execution down the river with elves jumping on your heads while the ravenous evil orks are trying to kill everybody.  So, at this point, the Orks have been outwitted (who could have seen that one coming?) and our heroes continue on down the river.  Enter the strange human with a boat.  It's at this point one of the wise dwarves decides to reason with the guy in the boat (who just happens to be an important descendant of the marksman who should have shot down the dragon when he first attacked the mountain.  He did actually hit the dragon but just knicked him (sort of).  So, as convenient coincidences go, this one was very useful in our story.  Now fish, when used in any story, are always a crowd pleaser.  Especially when you're a dwarf stuffed into a wooden barrel being transported into a convenient city which just happened to be the home of the guy who should have shot down the dragon but didn't and you're covering the heads of the dwarves in the barrels.  Fish are useful that way.  So, after many confusing chases through the town, and after being hidden by the family of the man who is the descendant of the man who happened to not be a dwarf but served as the human who manned the most advanced weapon using the most advanced iron arrows which are the only one which can pierce the armor of any dragon, our heroes find themselves being given a heroes send off to reclaim their rightful place in the mountain.  So, they make their way to the invisible door in the mountain and give up when the sun goes down and all hope is lost.  But the Hobbit won't give up.  Because he knows the movie needs to last another hour and he needs to get paid for the third episode of this epic adventure so he will stand there and figure out where that blasted key goes to.  And as soon as I yelled "What about moonlight?  Can't moonlight be the last light they're talking about in the map?"  the moon came out and we see the moonlight light up the key hole that can't be seen any other day of the year.  I was a freakin' genius.  But did I get credit?  No.  And then the hobbit kicks the key off the mountain but Thorin shows up and catches it before it falls off the side of Lonely Mountain.  Then they go inside and torque off the dragon and he crashes through the side of the mountain bent on destroying the tiny little seaport who aren't smart enough to fish for themselves. And that is how the second part of the trilogy of The Hobbit ended. And all I could think of was why those stupid eagles couldn't have dropped them off at the mountain to begin with.   I should have stayed home and slept.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.   And that's all I have to say about that.

Real review of Hobbit 2 - part one

"Now this is a story all about how,
Bilbo Baggins got flipped, turned upside down,
It took 160 minutes for me to sit right there
And watch a Hobbit, with a ring, to get real scared"

(Caution!! This review may contain possibilities of spoiler alerts not suitable for true Tolkien fandage!!)


Let me begin by telling you I was tired.  Real tired.  The week was long and cold.  Darkness surrounded the two of us as we entered the lobby of the old theater.  Normally the lights are out at this time of night.  Midnight -the hour of possibility and nightmares.  As we made our way to the cashier, a feeling of excitement and wonder filled our anticipation and curiosity.  We had waited, as so many others had, for the sequel to the prequel of the trilogy of The Lord Of The Rings.  Our journey had only just begun with the conclusion of the first installment of The Hobbit.  Who was Smaug and why would a dragon bury himself under so much gold?  Who was Bilbo Baggins and his arch enemy Smeagol?  Would Smeagol even make an appearance in the second installment? Would Harry Potter battle Gandolph the Grey in this one?  Would the Ork's continue hunting the dwarves and would the elves continue working establishing their rule in the cookie industry?  So many questions and only 2 hours and 40 minutes to find out.  I must admit I was still questioning the eagles and why they wouldn't just drop off the wizard and little guys on top of Lonely Mountain.  The whole time I'm watching Hobbit 2 - the question lingered.  Why wouldn't the eagles fly an extra couple of minutes and drop them off at the foot of that mountain?  "Why?"!!!!!!, I silently screamed as the weary, battled travelers made their way through a weird forest?  "Why?"!!!!!, I agonized while watching them being chased in barrels by the Orks.  For me, the movie was a string of "why's?"  "Why?" would an elfin lass fall under the spell of a quick witted little dwarf with a black shiny rock given to him by his mother?  Why would Gandolph wander off by himself and get himself trapped in a cage?  Why isn't agent Smith from the Matrix in this one? How did Smaug survive 60 years inside the mountain without eating?  Where the heck is Smeagol?  Why doesn't Bilbo just wear the ring all of the time when danger first approaches?  Why doesn't Smaug just melt Bilbo the first time he sees him?  Why are fish so much trouble?  How do the dwarves get their weapons back when the Orks attack?  How did Kate make it off the island and where the heck is Sawyer?  And why doesn't anyone call her Freckles in this one?  And how does everyone forget about moonlight?  And how did Thorin recover so quickly after the last Ork attack before the eagles showed up in the first Hobbit?  Reviewing this movie as just a movie, without ties to the first Hobbit or ties to the final episode, I would describe the movie off-paced with many breaks in rhythm.  The effort by the director, in stretching out this epic tale into three, drawn out movies, to secure profits, could be summarized as bold and tiring.  I believe, on its own merits, the tale of The Hobbit could have been well done with a single, two hour movie.  I do blame my own weariness as the main culprit in my initial displeasure with Hobbit 2.  It was after waking up the next morning that the questions came.  What upsets me the most with Hobbit 2 was the final question after really seeking out my true feelings upon this viewing - How could a movie this long, as a number two in a trilogy, have no real continuity or rhythm?  Yes, I was already physically and mentally fatigued prior to the start of Hobbit 2.  I'm just thankful I didn't endure 3 hours of wearing 3D glasses for this one.  I am already in the process of working on the sequel of this review where I really get in depth on my reflections of my initial feelings on the The Hobbit 2 - A Dwarf and His Dragon.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Hobbit - Desolation of Smaug review

It was kinda long.

"Resistance Is Futile" - Ohm's Law - the movie

From the moment of birth to our last breath, entertainment is a driving force in our lives.  From our first laugh to our last cry, the ability to focus on something outside of ourselves is a motivational force that drives us in our lives.  For me, as for many others, visual documentation in the form of cinema is a relished past time.  I would not want to know how many hours or days I have spent in front of a screen in the search of alternative diversion from my boring life - or at least the normal life I live, but I'm sure the number is a large one.  I was reminded of this fact while watching a video of a favored film critic of mine who asked a simple question - what was the moment at which I knew I loved the movies?  An interesting question that piqued my interest.  Something else of interest is the fact that the old saying "piqued my interest" is often thought of as "peeked my interest" but pique, by definition, is to provoke or arouse.  To peek is merely to take a quick glance or a stolen observation which just cannot work in that phrase for our purposes.  One may disagree on this observation but that's just how it goes sometimes.  So, my interest was piqued.  And I considered the many movies I have observed in my lifetime.  I've watched many different genres and types of movies.  So for me, as an individual rather than a statistical figure, a movie is so much more than just a diversion.  Movies to me are pretty important.  In fact, I would say that a good movie, based upon my own personal criteria, could be considered an achievement rather than just a diversion.  For me, a movie provides mental fitness and emotional stability.  Now, I must make this clear - I am not saying that my happiness or sanity is based upon how many hours of satisfactory viewing I am able to achieve for the week.  Not at all.  What I'm saying is that movies and television provide a necessary stability to my life.  And I believe this is true (the stability of mental and emotional health) that can be found in many of us.  We, as a people, have always needed a good story in words and visual representation.  From the earliest records of man we see this evidence.  Man has always required the outside influence from storytelling or dance or many other forms of entertainment.  I believe man/mankind will always require to think about the "what if's" and the possibilities outside of himself.  From daydreaming to dreaming at night - even nightmares provide a level of fear and problem solving the mind seems to require and even demand of us in the subconscious level.  Even while at rest our minds form dreams and nightmares built upon memories of past faces and bits of our lives from our waking hours.  And the question we must ask is "why?".   Why is it when the body is at rest the mind is required such a work out?  Is it for our bodies benefit?  That  does not seem likely due to the fact our muscles become useless in our deepest dreams.  But I don't believe our minds would do so much in our sleep periods if it wasn't for our own health.  So, it isn't a matter of feeding some emotional nutrient that our mind is lacking or solving some unsolved problem.  Well, the unsolved problem aspect could play a part of it but I believe it goes much further than that.  The mind itself is locked away in our brains with no outside influence other than what we take in with our own senses.  If the mind rested we cease in rational functioning.  So, I theorize that the mind requires the input that it devises on its own.  Much like certain types of sharks that have to constantly move to force the water in that gives them the oxygen they require, the mind must not stand still either.  I believe that dreams and nightmares are required of those minds that must continue moving through their complex analysis of data.  For some, like other types of sharks, the mind is at rest a majority of time anyway so the mind doesn't require the constant analysis so it does rest.  I do believe it is a matter of intelligence and is a survival technique of those with a constant problem solving mode of thinking.  In our waking moments, the mind finds sustenance from different forms of outside entertainment such as reading, television, and movies.  Some minds merely adapt from the absence of data by referrals from memories processed within itself using still pictures from old albums.  Each of us, as individuals, processes at whatever rate the mind requires.  This process can be changed from our infancy but requires an assertive effort on our own.  So, going back to the original question - "When did I first know I loved the movies?" may not be the right question - for me at least.  I, as an individual, probably found the movies provide a level of problem solving and emotional sustenance that was similar to vitamins and minerals for my body.  My mind, when it was allowed this form of outside stimuli, reacted to it like a missing food that quenched a hunger that was lacking in other stimulus' my mind had previously been feed.  For me, a movie has to have a point or provide a strong emotional component I can connect with. I find this in television shows as well.  If it's stupid or pointless than I don't really want to watch it and my mind and emotional center push me off in some other direction.  So, for me, movies aren't really just a distraction - they are important to my mental and emotional stability.  I just never realized it before.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

The Wheels On The Buss Fall Off, Off, Off

I love to tell a good story.  Especially when it happens to be true.  The false ones are okay but it takes a lot of commitment to lie from beginning to end.  Also, my fake stories are usually meant to humor the listener and I usually snicker or giggle by the end of it.  But the true stories are the best.  Especially when they happen to me.  This is one such story:

When I was young my parents forced me into an institution against my will.  It wouldn't be until years later that my parents would inform me that they had no choice - leaders from the state had imposed such requirements and parents had no other option.  The institution would send a bus to pick me up and the dread would fill me like dread has a way of doing.  I remember the concrete walls and the adults in charge of me.  Some of those paid to watch over me were decent but there were a few who honestly hated children.  The days at the institution were filled with lectures and work.  I don't know if our paintings by hand were sold on the black market or merely brought home for the amusement of those adults but it was made clear to me and the rest of the children, held against our will, that our artwork must be completed.  At meal times we were lined up in a column and ordered into another building where we were given a choice of regular milk or chocolate milk.  I always questioned the smiles we would see when we were asked which milk we would prefer.  I would always offer up an answer and then wait for the adult's reaction.  If there was any indication of pleasure on the face of that adult I would hastily change my decision.  The days seemed to last forever once we were returned to the interrogation rooms.  They would seat us in little chairs attached to a wood tray type device and we would be forced to study symbols for hours at a time.  Over the course of many years we would come to understand that these symbols were connected together for some type of code which allowed communications with others.  We also learned certain symbols and markings could be strung together in a language which allowed for various calculations we were told we would need later in our training.  We were conditioned to respond to loud bells and forced to listen to endless speeches from the adults who would stand in front of us and preach about these communications with symbols and varying degrees of complexity in using the markings to bring different results with the symbols.  Some of us would accomplish these mundane tasks and we would be rewarded with advancements in our training.  These "rewards" would only mean more work and lengthier lectures with different adults.  Our minds and bodies would be conditioned by these state workers until one day we were given our freedom.  This illusion of "freedom" would begin an even lengthier sentence in the outside world where our conditioning would bring us into terrifying hours of menial labor in which we would be granted payments based upon a monetary system based upon a pledge of a bankrupt government that promised some imaginary backing to some type of paper currency.  Myself, as well as a large part of the population, forced by the state to endure these institutions, have been altered on the conscious and subconscious level to continue adhering to their control. Our parents, also part of this broken and systematic derailment of mental stability, helplessly watched their young indoctrinated by these state institutions under the guise of "education" and "structure".  The freedom I barely remember seems so far away and so long ago.  As I said, I love to tell a good story.  And the best ones are the true ones.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

On a side note - it was while riding on one of the vehicles of the state designed for the transportation of little ones such as myself at that age, that a funny thing happened upon being delivered back to my parents.  The bus ride home usually lasted around an hour and it was on one such afternoon that the passenger side wheels of this bus came off and we were slammed into a ditch along the road.  We had to leave the bus using the emergency exit at the back.  Like I said, the true stories are the best ones to tell.

The Coldest Of Summers

The park bench was colder than it should have been thought Justin.  And why did Derrick want to talk this early anyway?  "I must have been crazy to tell him I'd be here.", Justin told no one in particular.  It was late afternoon when Derrick had called.  Justin was rather surprised Derrick would even call him, let alone want to meet publicly.  The argument had lasted for days and Justin figured Derrick would be the last person calling him.  "Just meet me in the old spot.", he had begged.  It was more out of curiosity than forgiveness that lead Justin to that bench. The November air was chilly and there were no signs of life left from the previous summers they had shared playing here.  This had been their favorite spot.  Two boys who had grown up and grown so far apart.  And it all had to do with a girl.  It always did.  Women and money can usually be found as the culprits that start wars between the best of friendships.  But if ever there was cause for such a battle, Jennifer was just cause.  They had always fought for her affections since grade school.  And she always knew.  Life was simpler back in those days.  The stakes didn't feel as high back then.  But now, in the waning days of adolescence, the battle for her affections had finally done in the childhood friendship.  And this had been too much for Jennifer as well.  She had had enough.  An ultimatum had been given and Jennifer was the kind of girl who considered herself no one's plaything.  The boys would have to grow up if she was to remain in their lives.  It was on this very bench when Justin had revealed his true feelings for her. And it was on this bench he had watched her walk away.  In his heart he knew he would never be with her.  Derrick understood that truth as well. Truth can be as evasive as anything else if we run from it fast enough.  And the heart has a way of hiding the realities of life.  And men will always be their own worse enemy.  The memories of those past summers flooded into Justin's thoughts like a gentle wave that comes in and overtakes the shoreline.  His fondest memories were the ones that included both Jennifer and Derrick.  Every pleasant recollection of his past would inevitably find either one or both included in those fond images.  Life itself reflected every smile and tear that had molded Justin.  But patience was one trait that seemed most allusive to him.  "Where is he?" Justin thought to himself.  The cold has a way of permeating into every pore of a man when the darkness gives way to the dawn.  The longer he waited the more intense the chill filled the air.  "I'll give you five more minutes, Mr. Potter, but then I must haste my departure."  Justin smiled to himself in his cleverness.  His two friends found his obsession with the Harry Potter series curious but they were not fans like he was.  His catch phrase "You're a wizard Harry."  had gone old in a brief matter of time.  It was usually in the silence and the separation that he would continue with his fascination alone.  Times such as this. Perhaps the silence was in order.  "A man's perspective can only be found at times such as this." his father used to say.  He missed him as well.  It was in that fall, after his father had died so suddenly, that Justin had become the closest with Derrick and Jennifer.  Perhaps their friendship may have been the only thing that had saved him.   And it was that same friendship that held him seated at the bench.  But it was cold and his shift at the sandwich shop would start in an hour.  It was better than nothing his mother would remind him when he felt down about it.  He hated the job but he was grateful to be working.  "Time waits for no one." was another favorite of his father's trusted sayings.  Like his father, his phone seemed so far away as well.  "Why did I leave without it?" he asked to no one in particular.  The horizon was filled with the morning light as he saw his mother approach from the distance.  "Justin?" she asked as she drew near.  "Hey mom, just waiting for Derrick.  What are you doing here?"  The sadness on her face was a familiar sight to him.  He recalled the months she had worn it after the funeral.  But he could see compassion as well.  "Justin, why don't we go home?"  Her eyes held so much truth but he wouldn't allow that.  He couldn't.  "Mom, he'll be here.  He has to."  The silence was familiar as well.  It was in those moments of silence that they had grown close as well.  "Hon, you know Derrick can't come, right?"  There was agony in her eyes as well now.  That was another reflection of those months as well.  "He'll be here.  He was very serious when I talked to him."  Her eyes slowly closed as she pondered her next words.  "Justin, please."  Her hand reached out to him as the memories flooded back.  The truth, as evasive as it is, and no matter how far we run, will eventually find us given enough time.  Slowly, like an old VHS tape pieced together, the images came back.  That last night Derrick and him had ridden together.  The sound of the glass breaking.  The blood on the dashboard.  Every horrific moment of that last car ride played out in his mind.  Justin slowly felt that sadness he had pushed so far away envelope him like molasses.  He felt his mother's arm wrap around him as the tears flooded his vision.  His last memory of Derrick, before the crash, was the hate they felt towards each other as they yelled about Jennifer. Who liked her more and who she liked better.  Justin would never be able to tell him how much he had meant to him all those years.  He would never be able to tell him how his friendship had saved him when he wanted to commit suicide after his father's death.  Those words of his father surfaced once more in Justin's mind.  "Time waits for no one."    My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Online Survey From U.S.Census Bureau

I received a notice by mail yesterday.  On the front of the envelope is a opening to see my address which is common for business/government mailings.  On the top left is the return address for U.S. Dept. of Commerce Economics and Statistics Administration US Census Bureau.  There address is 1201 E. 10th St. Jeffersonville, IN 47132-0001.  And underneath that is an official stamp saying Official Business.  Under that is a polite Penalty for Private Use $300.  Under that is a code which I will not print because I'm not really sure it's legal to print such codes.  And finally (still in the top left hand corner) is a large bold square box stating "The American Community Survey".  And in the box under that is a very bold lettered warning in larger, bolder letters - "YOUR RESPONSE IS REQUIRED BY LAW"  When I received this friendly envelope and the contents within, I noticed in the open window that my name was "To the resident of" and then my address followed.  My question is this - can I be arrested for a crime in which I'm named To The Resident Of:?  If I don't go online and take a 40 minute survey I am breaking the law.  I am being threatened with a fine or jail time (I haven't researched the consequences but IT'S THE LAW) if I don't take a survey.  Now I understand our forefathers understood the importance of a census and how the results reflect in proper governing by representation. I have no problem whatsoever in answering the question "Do you exist and are you a citizen?.  I have no problems whatsoever with answering that question.  But how did we go from that simple question every 10 years to this?  I am being threatened if I don't complete a survey and they don't even know my name?  Just the fact that I live in a household holds me accountable to the US Dept. of Commerce?  The department of commerce?  Perhaps the NSA should get together and let the Commerce department know who I am and who I've been texting.  I don't often cuss in my everyday language but I gotta tell you, they are a bunch of s.o.b.'s.  Now I have to take an hour out of my busy blogging to complete a bureaucratic butt wipe so that the Commerce Department has a better handle on which toilet paper I wipe my butt with and what color that butt happens to be?  I'm torqued about this.  I mean, how far can the government sink?  I'm supposed to be threatened by mail using the US postal service and just simply go online and answer their fact quest?  But Rueuhy, this is for your benefit some will say.  "This allows for better funding for schools, and fire departments, and hospitals and whatever else the government has their tentacles and testicles intertwined in" says the bleeding heart liberals who just want a better, brighter future for everyone.   This is not what our founding fathers envisioned.  In fact, I believe they felt a deep resentment to those who threatened the well-being and freedom they felt was a God-given right that no other man or group of men should ever infringe upon.  They were willing to die or face charges for treasonous acts against the crown.  I do believe, if they saw what our government was doing to it's own people they would be ready to fight the bonds of servitude in which the United States federal and state governments were imposing upon its citizenry.  So what will Rueuhy do?  Well, first I will research the law and the penalties I might suffer if I don't complete this online survey.  Then I will complain non-stop to my family and friends.  I will not sit quietly.  But in the end I will probably put the envelope in a larger envelope and mark it "return to sender" and add a friendly note about revolution and the consequences for those who infringe upon the rights of naturally born citizens.  Then I'll pack for a long stint in Guantanamo Bay luxury resorts.  Seriously, people, what's happened to us?  And why do we continue to let it happen?  My name is "To The Resident Of:"  and I approve this blog.

How To Beatbox And The Tale Of Izzy Landon

First, let me tell you a little story.  Timmy found a hole in the ground.  He fell in.  No one cared except the dog.  Dog went for help.  Nobody could translate the barking so no one helped.  Timmy was never found.  It's a really sad story if you think about it.  Dogs really are loyal but they get distracted easily.  Anyway, now that you know the story of Timmy and his loyal dog, I would like to give you a written tutorial on the art of beat boxing.  I'm not really a big fan of this form of music but I do believe that there are some benefits involved in acquiring any knowledge so let us begin:

Step one - Select a time and place that allows for un-distracted practice.  It is important to allow for unrestrained and continuous practice which allows for the freedom of creativity.  I am not an expert in any way of performing beat box but I do know that practice usually increases the chances of full potential in any endeavor.

Step two - Choose a rhythm and timing.  This step will eventually allow for multiple levels of enjoyment and increase the overall satisfaction of yourself and any listeners.  Don't be afraid to experiment with multiple levels of timing.  In fact, you will find yourself enjoying the challenge.

Step three - Use your face.  Any experienced beat box performer will tell you, the face is the instrument.  Any instrument worth its value is dependent on tuning and quality of maintenance. Just try to play a trumpet that's never had the spittle blown out.  Eventually the valves start plugging up and eventually the instrument becomes unbalanced and water logged.  This applies to your face as well.  Try spitting and stretching.  This will allow for greater range and endurance.  And the front of the crowd will remain dryer.  And stock up on chap stick or some other moisturizing agent.  The lips must remain moist and there is a great risk of drying and cracking so prevention is key.

Step four - Create a working parameter around your body for unhampered movement.  When the tempo and correct rhythm is found, you will desire to use all your body in defining your style.  A mannequin is only useful in displaying clothes.  Limber up and really get that body moving.  The visual effect can be just as important as the sound.  Once a freedom of movement occurs you will want the stage uninhibited.  The occasional child will want to get close so remain vigilant of your surrounding area.  One jabbed eye in a little toddler will bring the performance to a shocking end and ruin your reputation as a performer.

The basic beat box can be started with six key words and others will come to you in time.  Try the following  repetition of words for a basic pattern and then combine them in your own unique style:
"Boots and Cats" (4 times) and then "Boots and Ketchup" (4 times)    You will be amazed how quickly you can become proficient with the style that lays dormant within you.  Timing is very important but style can be the ultimate crowd pleaser.  Just ask Izzy Landon.  He was rated the top beat boxer in Thailand recently in the 2013 Thailand's Got Talent competition.  And that, my friends, is the tale of Izzy Landon.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Boots and cats
Boots and cats
Boots and cats
Boots and cats
Boots and ketchup
Boots and ketchup
Boots and ketchup
Boots and ketchup
Give me fries
Give me fries
Give me fries
Give me fries
Pass the dip
Pass the dip
Pass the dip
Pass the dip   

For Country and For Love

Veteran's Day holds a special place in my heart.  There are a few reasons for this but I would like to give you my take on a day of remembrance and salutations for those who served our armed forces and this includes myself.  As a young boy, I never understood we were poor.  Maybe not poor but we weren't rich by anyone's standards when it came to earthly goods.  We did have a nice vehicle and we always had groceries.  But I do remember material items such as clothes and toys were not always at the forefront of my mother's shopping list.  But dad always worked hard to ensure the power bill was paid and there was food on the table at the end of each day.  We were a working class family as defined by the culture of the day.  My father served in the Army and he would occasionally tells us of his memories from the service but he never dwelled long on the sacrifices this entailed on his own freedom and liberties he might have suffered for that service.  I never really understood in my youth what he sacrificed until years later when I would follow his footsteps into the military.  I chose a different branch and my sacrifices were different than his but I do believe we can agree we are both glad that we gave those years for the defense of our country.  I don't think many of us who served actually place "sacrifice for our country" as the primary reason for enlisting.  The reasons are probably as numerous as the numbers of men and women who have worn a uniform.  For myself, it was about the money.  As I mentioned, we were like so many other families of the working class.  Just keeping our heads above water in the sea of cost of living.  And, not to mention, there were four of us "little yuns" for our parents to worry about.  College just wasn't in the cards for us.  So, weighing my options as a senior in high school, I made the decision I would join.  What I didn't realize then, but I do now, was the severity of that decision and the role my service would play in the rest of my life.  The experience those years would give me probably will define me in my attitudes and focus until my last breath.  And with that experience my perspective on this country and what liberty means will be forever defined in my heart and mind.  I will, on occasion, with much regard for the future and moral ramifications, perhaps change my stand on issues as they arise in the politics at the current moment.  I understand that, with freedom, everyone has an opinion and many choose to be heard. And as much as it pains me at times, I understand that they do have the right to say whatever they choose to say even if I totally disagree with it.  But I also have the right to remain and listen or disregard their opinion without malice but with prejudice.  For freedom comes at a cost - sometimes even to the sanity of those who have sacrificed for it by having to listen to those who never will.  Today our country is hated as much as it ever has been buy it's own people.  The labeling and callousness of those who disagree with the policies of administrations in the past, as well as the current one, is at such a level of difference that our country is probably close to the same level of confrontation as was felt during the civil war.  On issues of immigration, religion, pensions, entitlements, same-sex marriage, welfare, and countless more, people feel strongly about their side.  This unfortunately creates an atmosphere of "us" against "them" and hurts our country far worse than any attack from beyond our borders.  The question I ask myself this morning is this - Can we survive ourselves?  No matter how strong a defense is, and no matter how many freedoms are lost, tyranny will never sleep.  There will always be someone who opposes another's core beliefs.  There will always be a new enemy and there will remain old ones who oppose the United States for whatever reasons.  But if we, as a nation, wish to remain a viable and sustainable idea, the differences we may feel towards others within our borders must be understood as such.  For if we destroy ourselves from within, what defense, military or otherwise, can undo that damage?  When I was 18 and entering into basic training I did not comprehend the immensity of the situation.  I didn't understand that I was only one of many who had given up a life that I knew to serve and defend.  I didn't realize how much that sacrifice would change me and what it really meant for the defense of an idea.  An idea of liberty and freedom held dear for over two centuries.  But I do now with the clarity of a life lived.  The thing is this - the enemy which clearly holds the biggest threat to this idea of liberty and freedom has always been there.  The biggest enemy is located within each and every one of us.  For if we lose sight of what we are and what we are privileged to live in, we have done a far better job of destroying ourselves than any enemy at the gate.  We should understand this but I fear we don't.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Finding Nemo and 30 Other Varieties At The Sushi Bar

Can anyone really be considered insane?  That's the question I asked myself this morning upon finishing the paper.  Locally, and I would wager nationally, any published hard print paper boils down to what the owner and editor/publisher believe is the direction society should be trained for.  Sometimes, (usually in disbelief) as I read another article and consider the sources, my blood boils and I try to remain calm.  For the truth is, most of the news is hand picked by the powers that be in any newspaper, magazine, or other types of media profit or "non-profit".  Anytime we watch the news on cable, or even tuning into a local channel on public broadcast, the viewers can be assured that someone, somewhere, has our best interests at heart, and has decided what news is worthy to be broadcast.  Would a trial taking place two thousand miles away really become water cooler conversation without someone, sitting at an anchor's desk, informing us of each little inconsequential tidbit hour after hour?  Would the current slew of "important national crisis'" be fore front in our minds without the daily push from our newspaper?  For example, I did not know about the current rampage of male service members raping female service members that is running non-stop in our military.  Without the efforts of our local paper I would not know that this is the deciding factor in the current pick of President Obama's selection for undersecretary of the Navy.  I guess the most important problem facing today's military is not in the defense of our country, and who should be selected for leadership in implementing the decisions but rather the political carnage from choosing someone who cannot implement quality military judgement of those who serve under the commanders chosen through their record of service and achievements.  Rather, the military (who, by the way, uses a chain of command rather than a diplomatic democracy) should change the rules (once again) to satisfy the political correctness of the situation.  As a former member of our armed services I understand the chain of command form of leadership from living that life for several years.  Here's just my humble opinion and perspective of the military and why a chain of command far outweighs the political correctness of the current age:  the military is like no other group in our country.  It is not based upon a capitalistic or corporate mentality in achieving monetary dominance in our society.  It is not based upon a politically correct agenda.  In fact, at it's core, the military is a group of volunteers who get paid to defend this country by any means possible.  We have nuclear capability as a deterrent to offensive strikes against our country.  We have men and woman trained to kill.  We have standard weapons with the capability to sink ships and destroy villages.  At it's very core in nature, the military is not a pleasant idea by any means.  The military is a back bone of strength that everyone understands (or should understand) which allows our country to remain in power.  To weaken the very essence of vitality and rigidness that allows for a uniform chain of command utilizing its best in minds and strengths of it's leadership is as close to anarchy as we would eventually taste in this country.  The strength of the military comes from its chain of command type of structure.  To take that power away, whether at the lowest of command or at the highest shows the lack of respect for our military and the pompous mentality of those who live outside of it's structure.  When we disarm the military at it's core we begin the disarmament of our very own defense.  So, in summary, I do believe in the required judgement of those responsible for crimes against fellow service members.  I do believe that violators should be judged under the UCMJ - Uniform Code of Military Justice.  I do believe that the military has a system in place that continues a justice system within itself that has remained effective since its inception.  What I don't believe is some United States Senators should hold up a nomination for an office to better implement their understanding of a political correctness that should not EVER become a deciding factor within our military.  And I do not believe our current legal system, with the unbalanced form of justice on display on a daily basis, should ever replace the current system in place within our military.  I understand if you're feeling frustrated with the lack of mention of Nemo or sushi but that's just the title that popped in my head.  And I am free as a United States citizen with the help of the military present and past to do that in this blog.  I understand freedom.  I served.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

The Other Side Of The Story

Montegni was better than most.  In fact, out of 65,000 children tested, he had the highest scores in all ten categories.  With permission from his guardians, he was raised by the elders in seclusion.  No other interactions with children was allowed for the young Montegni.  This was the only life he knew.  But somewhere, deep in the recesses of his young mind, something just didn't seem right with the life he lived. He was fed well.  He rested well.  In fact, of all the children tested that year, none would know a life as secure as that of Montegni.  But he always felt curious about his surroundings.  There was a "yearning" to reach out to those of his own age.  The wisdom and nurturing he received from the elders was far superior than had ever been known to anyone before.  He would never know hunger or pain.  Physical pain at least.  He would never feel the extremes in temperature fluctuations as the other children from his home would know.  He would never know the suffering others would take as normal in their lives.  He would be protected at all costs.  He was their last hope.  Montegni, of course, did not know how special his life had become.  Of all the wisdom passed down through countless generations, the greatest truth would never be told to the young Montegni.  The elders knew that a mind so complex, yet naive as Montegni's would never accept that truth.  His mind, as capable and quick as it was, would never sanely accept the actual parameters his life was required to be enveloped in.  As is true with any living creature, the mind can only accept a certain truth and if that truth is altered to such a vast degree, something will inevitably snap in the process of acquiring that new revelation.  And as was the case for Montegni, his truth had been in the making for centuries.  For his was an old race that understood that time, as great a friend can be, can also speak to another reality.  A reality based upon finite calculations. A reality which held only one possibility.  And that conclusion was ever near. So, many generations ago, a plan was created.  A plan so completely reliant upon one with the calculating abilities that Montegni possessed.  The ability to process information so rapidly that no machine could duplicate.  He would have to be able to calculate probabilities within a limited amount of time.  And he would never be allowed to understand how sinister and cold those calculations could be.  For that was the limiting factor involved in the secrecy of Montegni's life.  Each specimen would have to be a living being capable of producing the choices which could be monitored and studied within a space of limited time.  Even the specimens themselves could not be alerted to their own study for this would cloud the results of each study.  If his race were to be successful in obtaining a productive solution, Montegni and the test subjects would never be able to consciously know each other's place within the experiments.  Even Montegni himself was not aware of the experiments.  The experiments themselves were only observed through a remote location by the elders and Montegni would never be told what was happening.  And the test subjects would return to their own planet with only a feeling of partial memory recognition that would be labeled deja vu.  Even in their simplistic and underdeveloped evolution, humans gave promise to the key to their survival.  But they could never consciously know of their capture and experimentation.  They would never know of their departures or arrivals back to Earth.  They would only regard it with a brief curiosity and continue on with their simple lives.  If Montegni and his entire race were to survive an answer would have to be found.  And soon.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Carrie and The Counselor

Movie reviews.  It's an interesting concept.  For some of you the very idea that someone would have the audacity of writing their opinion down of what their thoughts were on the movie is something that shouldn't be done.  For others it's just one of those things. And still for others, their opinion of a critic's opinion is somewhere near the gold standard in judgement and this even influences their joy or discomfort with a cinema viewing.  I am one of those people who enjoy criticizing.  And I hope my opinion in no way influences anyone from not watching or going to see a movie.  It's just an opinion.  So, without further hindrance or ado, here are a couple of short reviews of currently playing movies.

Carrie - It's a remake.  She gets pigs blood dumped on her at her senior prom.  The votes for prom queen and king were rigged by someone who just hates her.  Prom dress goes from pink to red in 0.2 seconds in real time but it actually takes 2 minutes and 65 seconds to watch the bucket almost dumping over and then finally the bucket does dump over.  On a side note, I've watched animals being processed at a meat locker and blood actually is messier than what the movie portrays.  I would have believed the blood was actually melted red jello over real pig's blood.  Note to Hollywood - get it right on your third remake of this Stephen King classic because two just ain't enough.  The young actress who portrays Carrie (in this second remake of the Stephen King Classic) is Chloe Grace Moretz.  You might remember her from that famous McDonald's commercial where the young couple enter the restaurant and Heinz ketchup gets dumped all over them.  So it really wasn't a big surprise to see Chloe in this one.  She was very believable portraying the outsider with an abusive mother who is shunned at school.  My problem with her performance begins the moment all that melted jello lands on her.  She did not pull off the "sane to insane in 0.2 seconds" needed for this to work.  Yes, she looks mad.  Yes, she very expertly handled the telekinetic show with the live electric cables.  But something was just terribly off with the way the camera handled the scenes and perhaps there wasn't anything wrong with her performance.  She is extremely gifted in her acting abilities but the scenes after the bucket just did not startle me or bring any closure to her character's suffering.  It was almost a check off list for killing the bad kids.  I believe the director relied too much on the same performance we get from her action movie side.  Which was probably a determining factor in casting her.  The one who really came shining through was Julianne Moore or less.  The character of Mom portrayed by Mrs. Moore gave one a truly creepy feeling.  Her severe religiousness offset by the portrayal of the opening scene and mixed with being locked in that prayer closet leaves one with an after taste that is needed after watching something as sad and bizarre as what she played.  The level of acting is superb in this movie. The angry selfish teen portrayed by Portia Doubleday called Chris is another character very well defined and can actually be hated by the audience.  We've all had our experiences with a "Chris" in our life and she pulled it off well.  This movie was one in which the director just failed in the most important scenes and should have ended the movie once the "bad" people suffered their demise.  We did not need such involved closure between Carrie and her mom. And the ending was perhaps so stupid that everyone in the movie should have walked away the first time the director even hinted at such an idea.  Perhaps the third remake will be better.  Perhaps Pixar will pick it up and give us something even better than Toy Story.  I can see Woody and Buzz Lightyear on the scaffolding high above the stage as Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head stand below.  And then we hear Rex tear into Ham in the scene that will terrorize children for years to come.  "You have a friend on me.  You have a friend on me. Whoever thought that teeth could sink in so far, You've got a friend on me."  Terrific theme song.  Terrific ending to the tragic story of toys locked in a dorm room while Andy goes bar hopping with his new best friends.  Come on Pixar.  Isn't it time to re-invent animation one more time?

The Counselor - Once again Brad Pitt is Brad Pitt.  And once again Penelope Cruz pulls off Penelope Cruz like no one else could have done.  And Cameron Diaz.  She was not convincing as Cameron Diaz.  But I will say this - one of the most memorable items from this movie is her fingernail polish.  That alone was worth the price of admission.  If your tickets were free.  But it was a pretty bold selection in fingernail polishes.  The characters who had very little lines but gave excellent performances were the drug runners.  Their ability to show a septic tank truck being used for illegal transportation of cocaine (I think) was breathtaking.  You could almost smell the product surrounding the illegal product.  A big part of me was going "I really hope they sealed up those drums tight.  If even a little bit of that poop gets in those drums those plastic covered rectangular shaped bricks are gonna get ruined."  Perhaps the scene where Brad Pitt does those crazy eyes and quick hand shakes were the best part.  We've never seen that before have we Fight Club fans?  My favorite dialogue occurs between Jefe played by Ruben Blades talking on the phone with the counselor.  Jefe is explaining to the counselor how screwed up his life just became and that life is the life we make and once that life is created than we separate from the older life and we must accept our new life and the consequences of that new life because we can never go back to the old life.  I believe he was just saying "deal with it" but he does the scene very well.  I never really figured out who Jefe was but you could tell he was in charge of something pretty important.  And then the counselor cried.  They looked like real tears and everything.  To summarize, my opinion of the Counselor, as a movie, was one of deep diarrhea.  The kind that starts on a long car ride with your parents when you're a little kid and your dad doesn't believe you gotta go to the bathroom again.  Then you sit there squirming trying not to splatter inside your shorts and all over the back seat.  Then, without any control it just leaves your body and now you're sitting there in a puddle of your own feces.  You're really not sure which way to lean and you're just praying that no one will find out. But it's starting to dry and you're starting to cry.  Yeah, that about sums up the experience I felt watching The Counselor.  Yet, it was still better than George Clooney's The American.

My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Natural Electrical Displacement

Every night, before I go to bed, I do the pre-sleep shutdown.  I wander through the house and check certain things.  When I was young I basically said "Goodnight" if anyone else was awake and then brushed my teeth and went to bed.  As I've gotten older, and the responsibilities of family weigh upon me, I check certain things just to ease my mind.  I'm actually kinda anal about it.  There is the lights.  We leave one on and the rest need to shut off.  There is the thermostat.  Even if it's 70 degrees outside I still check the thermostat in case there was an accidental adjustment made.  Then there are the door locks.  We have a side door that has a door knob lock and dead bolt lock.  I check both. Then there's the front door.  It has a single lock consisting of a dead bolt.  We have lived in this house for over a year now and it has become my common practice to slide my hand on the door several inches before making contact with the dead bolt lever.  "Why?" you ask.  Static electricity.  As the temperatures drop and the heat required inside the house increases, the static builds up quite easily in our house.  Basically, I've been shocked so hard at times by that front door lock that now it's habit no matter what time of the year it is.  I approach it carefully.  I try grounding myself using the hand against the door and sliding slowly towards that lever.  It never works but I do it anyway and I just can't seem to cure myself of this static fear.  So this morning I was thinking about all the power that naturally occurs in our atmosphere and in the world we live in.  If there is enough power trapped "potentially" within me and the door, or vice-versa, why can't we draw that power out and control it for our vehicles?  I suppose someone, somewhere, in some lab underground or in the basement of some university, is probably already devising this.  But what if the whole battery problem with electric cars could be bypassed and natural conductivity could occur between the energy that exists potentially in the air and the electrical system that would propel a vehicle forward?  What if we never had to buy another battery or gallon of gas again?  There would be the endless acres of carpet required for our roads but imagine how much different your life or my life would be without spending another dime or yen or euro on petrol or batteries for a vehicle ever again?  Or what if all those devices we power with electricity or batteries suddenly became self-sustaining with a natural attraction to the electricity that already exists and surrounds them.  A few decades ago a man named Nikola Tesla envisioned a world where all the power required would be transmitted through the air by the use of towers.  Much like radio waves, electricity could be received through the atmosphere by houses and businesses and it would be free.  He later died without seeing his dream realized. But the plans for these grand schemes were "lost" and today it remains a dream.  But what if ... what if you and I never had to worry about our heat again? What if we never had to worry how we would get from point a to point b due to the cost of fuel or tickets?  What if there was a solution?  Technology is great when we experience the benefits of the modern age and marvel in our own genius.  But what if we've been taking the slow train locked in one mode of thinking?  What if the answer is more grand and multi-dimensional than we could imagine?  What if we're just trapped in to the mode of thinking that somehow we have to trap the energy we use and then figure out how to transport it through solid lines or release it slowly through the use of devices such as batteries that deplete and must be re-filled through charging or re-purchase?  If we can devise devices such as nuclear bombs that release so much energy uncontrollably, why is this so far beyond our grasp?  Or are there powers that be that would never allow such innovation to cut into their bottom line on profits?  All I know is that the jolt I feel every night from that stupid lock on my front door seems like such a waste of energy.  We need another Tesla for this age.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Mad Max a.k.a. Dr. Feelgood a.k.a Max Jacobson

Sometimes the truth is bizarre.  Even more bizarre than a truly gifted version of fiction.  This is the story of one man known in his day as Dr. Feelgood.  Max Jacobson was born July 3, 1900 in Germany but fled in 1936 and set up shop in the United States in Manhattan.  It was in the years following that he acquired the nickname Dr. Feelgood.  He became known by many of the famous and elite for his "miracle tissue regeneration" shots and was frequently sought out.  Among the many well known patients of his including such names as Yul Brynner, Eddie Fisher, Mickey Mantle, Elvis Presley, and Marilyn Monroe, the most famous and celebrated would have been our 35th President of the United States - John F. Kennedy.  For many years he suffered with back pain caused by injuries in his youth and military service.  Also, throughout his life, the President suffered from various afflictions and maladies such as scarlet fever, measles, jaundice, and numerous other problems.  His mother described her son, in his youth, "a very sick, little boy" and "bed-ridden and elfin-like".  Throughout his life, John Kennedy suffered from pain but this never deterred his aspirations.  He played football in college.  He was medically disqualified for service in the Army due to his chronic back pain but through family connections was accepted into the Navy and later was re-injured due to ramming of his patrol boat Pt 109 by a Japanese destroyer.  It would be years later, while running for election to the office of President, that the services of Max Jacobson would be sought by Mr. Kennedy.  After many days of fatigue and pain, the future President was wore out and knew that his performance in the debates against Nixon would not go well without treatment.  This would be the first of many treatments administered by "Dr. Feelgood".  The treatment was a high level dosage of amphetamines, animal hormones, bone marrow, enzymes, human placenta, pain killers, steroids, and multi-vitamins.  There were side effects from the treatments such as hyperactivity, impaired judgement, nervousness, and wild mood swings.  But this was not a deterrent to a man who had suffered all his life from fatigue and illness and pain.  It is reported that Max Jacobson made at least thirty four visits to Mr. Kennedy while serving as President in the White House.  He was also part of the presidential entourage at the Vienna Summit in 1961.  It is also reported that John Kennedy, hours before his meeting with Krushchev, the leader of the Soviet Union, at the Vienna Summit, requested the services of the good doctor.  What was unknown to Mr. Kennedy was the surveillance of the KGB of the doctor and the knowledge of the extent of the US President's injuries and treatments by the doctor was found through the ransacking of his office by the KGB.  A shot was administered to Kennedy but Krushchev did not show up until the treatment was wearing off.  It would be hours after that meeting started that Kennedy would revisit Jacobson for a booster shot and continued on invigorated to finish that meeting with Krushchev.  The extent of his injuries and the use of a back brace may have even contributed to the death of Kennedy.  When the first shot hit the President he was unable to slump forward which would have given to the possibility of the second shot missing him.  The brace stabilized his back and prevented him from naturally slumping to avoid the second shot.

It is believed through the account given by Max Jacobson that his formula began by the mixture of mind altering drugs with the other components to produce a concoction that would see remedies at the cellular level.  It was his consultations with a Carl Jung that lead Max Jacobson to use a mixture of methamphetamines with the goat's and sheep's blood that lead to the interest of Germany's National Socialists.  The drug was given to Nazi soldiers for field endurance and an increased level of viciousness.  Eventually Adolph Hitler and Eva Braun would become addicted to his formula as well.  It would be soon after the formula was acquired by the Nazi's that Max Jacobson would flee his homeland and settle in the United States where the next chapter of his life would begin.

It is believed that the current use of meth in this country and the world can attribute it's beginnings due to the formula that was created by Max Jacobson.  It can also be said that the United States would not have a DEA - Drug Enforcement Agency, were it not for the hearings and discussions on his practice and treatments in the early '70's.  It was in his later life that Max Jacobson would be known to see up to 30 patients a day up until 1972 when the New York Times did a massive expose on him.  He would later lose his license in 1975.

As I said, the truth is often more bizarre than any fiction we can create. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Why Mad Man So Mad

An eerie silence crept into the night as Philip finished signing the check.  He knew he had no other choice.  The envelope would be mailed at the earliest convenience by certified mail tomorrow.  He exchanged a long, slow glance with his wife and they acknowledged the suffering each one felt.  The deadline would come at exactly 5pm tomorrow.  There was a feeling of utter hopelessness as the hour drew near.  They really couldn't afford to pay but they understood the ramifications for themselves and their newborn.  Little Timmy would eat but they would have to hold off such extravagances themselves.  "How did it all come to this?", Phillip wondered to himself.  They had scrimped and saved for a year to purchase the newer vehicle in the drive.  They lived in a modest apartment.  They did not spend their money frivolously.   In fact, Phillip had never felt so broke in his life.  The small business he owned had been his dream since graduating from college two years ago.  In many ways, he felt like the garage he owned with his wife which employed two mechanics was still very much in its own infancy.  He did not know how but he knew his first infant would live.  Somehow.  His father had given him a majority to start up the small shop.  "Consider it your inheritance." his father had joked.  He would only live a few months longer before those words would ring with the truth they now held.  This garage meant everything to him now.  He had promised his father that he would give it his all to see the business grow into a successful venture for the both of them.  After inheriting the medical bills from the hospital and overcoming the grief that still lingered, Philip felt like somehow nothing else could go wrong. Due to the long hours at the hospital, watching over his father, the garage had taken second place in his worries.  His wife had done the best she could but their son had gotten sick as well.  Her hours were divided between supervising the shop and taking care of little Timmy.  There was nothing life threatening about Timmy's sickness but colic can seem to last forever.  She was wore down from the hours at the shop and the nights spent comforting Timmy.  Jaunice was a strong woman but she was on her last nerve.  And now, only days since burying his father, they pondered a total financial ruin.  It seemed odd to Philip how the same state that could plunder the reserves of credit and revenue as Illinois had could feel any grounding in their threats against Phillip and his family and his business.  "Where does all the money go?" he would often ask himself.  The business made too much money for any assistance to be allowed by the agencies set in place by their good state.  The requirements were many just to keep the doors open.  Every month Jaunice and Phillip would fill out the necessary forms and file away all those receipts for the bureaucracy of it all.  And now, a single check would be their undoing.  Without the money to pay the help who could blame those men for looking for employment elsewhere?  Without the money for supplies and necessary materials how would any cars get fixed?   And what of little Timmy's future?  Sometimes a man can only face so much before something misfires inside his head.  Sometimes the magnitude is just too much.  Tomorrow would bring a new day but Philip would not be the same.  And someone was going to pay.





My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Christopher Columbus - Portrait Of Insanity

As a youngster we tend to soak up knowledge.  For some that knowledge comes from books. For others, that knowledge comes from the streets.  I, in fact, was a book smart hoodlum. I soak it up from wherever.  But, I, like anyone else, is limited to the facts given to him or her.  Several facts I remember from school concerning Christopher Columbus are few.  I remember 1492 as the year that Columbus sailed to find India but found the Americas instead.  He had three ships - the Nina, the Pinta, and the San Bernadino.  In fact, to honor his discovery, there is a city that still goes by that name in California.  I also remember how he is credited as the first Spanish-American.  He eventually did build a summer home in North America but was driven out when they discovered he did not have a valid driver's license.  Very little is left of that summer home and compares to the truth about Christopher Columbus today.  The hero our youth are taught about today is far from the actual life of the real Columbus. The following excerpts are from the recently discovered ship's logs kept hidden for thousands of years and recently uncovered during the remodeling at a local Denny's on 6th Street in downtown Westboro, Ohio.

Day 1:     I, Christopher Columbus, embark on a voyage of discovery and expectation much like that party I went to after prom.  I hope this time is different.

Day 2:     Man, there is a lot of water.  And Georgio is already complaining about the food.  I hate Georgio and I don't really care how much his parents paid to fund this little get away - he is really annoying.

Day 3:     Georgio fell overboard last night.  I say good riddance but I'm sure his parents are going to be asking about him.  I know I told everyone I would only be gone for a few days but I just don't think coming back right away is going to be a very wise choice.  We have enough food for a few months.  I'm just going to go west and see what I find.

Day 27:    There always has to be one comedian on board and after a few weeks I found where they hid my diary.  The crew is a little upset with me but they'll be happy once we get to India.  I hear the girls are really crazy there. I'm hoping to find a couple of wives to bring back.  That'll shut up Fonzi.  I hate Fonzi even more than Georgio.  At least I still have some of the sugar Mom packed away.  If the other men ever found out I had sugar for my coffee they would probably mutiny.

Day 72:    I swear, if they hide my diary again I will kill them all.  And the sugar is gone.  They found that too.  Oh what fun the men are having with their sweetened coffee while I have to drink mine black.  I hope they enjoy fish because I am throwing all the food overboard after they go to sleep tonight.  That'll teach 'em.

Day 96:    Well, I officially hate fish now.  I guess next time I throw food overboard I'll have to remember to hide some for myself.  We almost had a fire yesterday because Jonesy decided to have a barbeque.  I know who's gonna go overboard tonight.

Day 132:    I would kill from some fresh underwear right now.  And some sugar.  I noticed the men have been dressing a little different but I'm sure it's just a phase I'm going through.

Day 286:    I hate the sea and I really hate fish.  Things are going well between me and Alberto.  He says that when we get back he's going to make an honest man out of me. I know this relationship is only temporary but sometimes I wish we could just find a new place to live and love each other without the church's inquisitions.  I have to go now.  Someone just yelled about land or something.

Day 318:    He finally asked me to go steady.  Oh my gosh.  I really wish I could find a new outfit.  Everything I own either has fish guts on it or coffee stains.  I don't really care for the people here.  But I do like corn.  I guess Mom was right when she said to not be afraid to try new things.  Well the jokes on her.  Just wait til she meets Alberto.

Day 493:    I guess I'm just not good enough for Alberto.  He fell in love with one of the savages here.  I'm thinking about bringing him and his little tart's family back for a little slave trading.  And Alberto can be sold as well.  If he makes it back to Spain.  I really miss sugar for my coffee.

Day 561:    Well I guess the Queen just thinks that anyone can find India.  And she didn't believe Alberto was Indian either.  At least the trip is over.  Now I have to explain to Mom what all the marks are from. I am never going to sea again.

Day 632:    You know sometimes you swear up and down that you'll never do something and then someone hands you a ton of money and supplies and more ships and makes you an offer of being famous and ending up in the history books?  Well, so begins another voyage and this time I'm hiding the sugar.

Day 632 was the last record of Christopher Columbus and what else is known of him can be summarized this way - he initiated slave trade between this new world and his old world.  He brought Native Americans back as slaves and sold them as such.  He was wrong about a lot of things and he should be the last person on earth to have a holiday named after him.  but that's just my opinion.  If you doubt me then do a little research on your own.

My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Love Letter

I wanted to take a moment and express what I feel down deep inside for the one who has been there for me through so much.  You have never asked much from me but yet there you are - always there for me.  At night, if it's been a long day, without hesitation, you call to me and let me rest.  We have been through so much together, you and I.  Whatever weight I have carried, you have been there for me.  You never judge me or talk unkindly of me. You are my friend.  Who could be as yielding and forgiving as one such as you?  You have never refused me and you have never asked me to dress differently.  You always accept me for who I am no matter how boring I may be.  You have always let me go when I need to leave.  You are always there waiting for me when I return.  You don't ever ask me, "What's in it for me?"  You are wonderful and one of the most beautiful sights a man can see after a terrible day at work.  How can I ever thank you for all the years of attendance to my needs?  I love you, recliner.  And I always will.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Gravity - The Real Review

Warning - due to the graphic words and spoilers included in this post, parental guidance is suggested.

Some movies are entertainment.  Others are really an experience.  And then there's Gravity.  I was able to catch this pleasant film this weekend.  My life didn't change much and that's okay.  I will say this - there was a lot of stars in this one.  There was the former Mrs. James - Sandra Bullock.  And we also see the former love interest of Ben Affleck - George Clooney.  I was glad to see him move on especially after the news of Ben reprising one of George's best roles as The Batman.  The basic synopsis is this - the movies opens up with George's character, Matt Kowalski (with an i, not a y), drifting around while other people are working.  We see Sandra Bullock's character, Dr. Ryan Stone, working tediously on a control board on some sophisticated thing and doesn't fix it.  We see another man doing something but it's never really as important as watching Matt Kowalski (with an i, not a y) bouncing around and making unnecessary remarks about Ryan's eyes and his eyes as well.  We never really learn about the other guys eyes because his face gets blown out when a collision occurs in a one in a billion chance of such improbable magnitude that we just have to take the writer's word for it that it might possibly happen.  But if that collision occurred with space debris, which just happens to wipe out all communication satellites presently orbiting the earth, the CGI captured it brilliantly.  At this moment there are approximately 8300 satellites orbiting the earth but it's estimated that 3000 are not very functional.  I don't know how many of the 5300 satellites are for communications but that must have been one terrible missile launch by the Russians.  After the collision we find our heroes drifting around and fortunately Mr. Kowalski (with an i, not a y) has just enough oxygen and fuel in his batpack to allow for him to talk incoherently about his eyes and dwelve into Dr. Stone's past just long enough for her to feel even more terrible than she already does.  Fortunately for the audience he ends up drifting off into space to achieve the record for the longest monologue that's ever taken place in space.  Ryan ends up jumping from one space machine to another until gravity pulls her down.  It is actually a pretty good story and the visual effects are extraordinary.  Who knew cosmonaut spacesuits could be so form fitting?  I will say this about gravity - it's effect keeps me from drifting off into space and for that I'm grateful.  On the serious side, if I haven't spoiled the movie too much for you, Gravity is very much worth seeing and the performances are great.  Out of all the actors in this movie, Sandra Bullock and George Clooney really stood out and deserve top billing.  I can't wait for this to come out on VHS so I can rent it soon. It's worth watching again.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Gravity - a review by Rueuhy

It was okay.

Baby Walker

The world can change.  Abruptly.  Without warning.  If you don't believe me then just watch an apocalyptic movie or tv show and you'll see.  Normal, everyday lives thrown into a cavern of hopelessness and despair.  A world based on lawlessness and depravity of the human condition.  Just nastiness and no ice.  Restaurants and financial institutions without customers.  The bartering system and hunting are the pastimes of households which no longer can stay in a house too long because someone will eventually find them and come in and destroy any small amount of peace the main characters had found.  This is the world we think of when the end comes.  Destruction and malice are in the hearts of many.  The depraved will find leadership positions and prey upon those just wanting to live one more day.  Animals will disappear as food supplies dwindle rapidly.  Grocery stores and other businesses will be overrun and quickly looted.  Tv's and other electronics will be stolen or smashed to pieces because there will no longer be any type of security or police to stop vandals.  The world will be thrown into chaos because that is basic human nature - to destroy and wreak havoc without prejudice.  This is the only world we can imagine.  We seem to understand ourselves in these basic terms.  If the world ends, at least on a functioning level, humanity will consume itself with it's final destruction.  Where will the voice of reason lie?  Who will arise and become leaders in this post apocalyptic world?  Will we seek out those who lead before?  Will we turn to those who understand leadership now?  Will the new world order involve committees and staff meetings?  Will new forms be created to better serve our new needs and survival?  I believe the answer to those last two questions is a simple "no".  I believe the leaders of tomorrow, in a world ravaged by chaos and the need for survival, will find their decisions will be guided by something based on reality rather than political shenanigans.  As for the real world, at least today, our federal government is considered to be partially shutdown.  Funding has not been approved for the new fiscal year and a small percentage of federal workers are finding their jobs not current at this point in time.  Federal websites are not being manned and net servers are going cold through non-use.  I am not a federal worker.  I am self-employed and will work today.  I will use the labor of my hands and mind to fulfill services to the many in pursuit of revenue for the fulfillment of my monetary obligations.  I am a skilled worker just living on survival skills but I will pay others for their skills and performance in their duties so they can survive as well.  If the federal government were to shutdown completely, and federal services were to end, it would mean an abrupt change to our economic system and what we are use to.  For many, this would mean hunger and homelessness.  For those who relied on those services for basic life needs there would be either a change of living or death.  For those of us who do not rely solely on government entitlements we would alter our lives in some way but we would survive.  But there would be chaos and rioting.  The mentality is such that people would paint signs rather than figure out a new path.  At least that's my fear.  But if the virus outbreak occurs that creates the "zombies vs. us" war in our lifetime, be prepared for the worse.  And if the "Walking Dead" synopsis holds true, imagine walking into daycares and coming across some baby walkers.  A whole new horror unleashed on an unprepared world.   My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

It's Just Our Way

This morning I awoke which is really a good thing.  I'm already over 17,000 for 17,000 days for waking up.  There are many who cannot say the same thing.  In fact, I've never gone a day without being awake.  It's just my way, Little Tree, it's just my way.  (If you've never seen the movie "The Education Of Little Tree" be sure to check it out.  It's a fascinating look at mixed families and what this country did to try to "fix" little Indians back in the '30's.)  But I digress ... I read the paper, as is my custom, (it's just my way Little Tree), and read an interesting article on people trying to sign up with Illinois' new healthcare exchange.  Apparently if you don't have longer than a few hours you're out of luck on actually getting signed up.  So my question for you, for me, is this - should I take a week off of work to get signed up on GetCoveredIllinois.gov?  Our good governor Pat Quinn says that any glitches are just "one of those things" and he was sure they would get the kinks out of signing up.  I'll be honest with you - if there is a way for the government to add layers of bureaucracy and create a website for it's constituents, it will create a tangled, intricate, mass of a mess.  Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions.  Perhaps it's the easiest website ever devised.  Or user friendly.  Or oriented towards the average, untrained, non-web users out there.  So I'll take this time, right now, to visit and I'll be right back.  Sorry for any delays this may cause in finishing this post.  Well I'm back.  It was only for a few minutes but I did qualify for medicaid.  I did not fill out my email to start the enrollment for medicaid but I'm sure that will be filled with all kinds of fun and unique questions I'm not ready to answer yet.  So basically, after a few very personal questions on my income and turnoffs, I was directed to enroll in medicaid.  Now, before you jump down my throat and check for strep let me assure you, I will put this off for a couple of months.  I'm one of those procrastinators who will do anything, and wait out the apocalypse, before signing up for a government program.  Why? you ask?  Well, it's a faith-based decision.  I have literally no faith in out present government.  At the moment our state governor is promoting the new health care exchange, our federal guys are still trying to stop the progress.  And progress is a good thing, right?  We should run to the state and embrace her with our arms wide open because she has filled us with overflowing buckets of reassurance in her ability to maintain anything at a reasonable fiscal level.  Just look at the pension reserves that overflow abundantly to pay all those promises.  I am joking of course.  The sense of dread I am filled with is what overflows.  Many will be quick to point fingers.  Many will say "it's the democrats".  Or "it's the republicans".  Or it will be classified a racial bigotry towards the president.  Or we just don't want to succeed on the world stage anymore.  There is a list written down in a closet somewhere in the basement of the Washington Monument that discloses all the possible excuses but the one that doesn't appear is the closest to the truth.  The one most can acknowledge but cannot put into words.  We want it all and we don't care how it gets paid for.  "It's just our way Little Tree."  Every person has there own need or want and our politicians and leaders just can't pay for the presents anymore.  And there are only so many workers to tax.  There's only so much money.  It's beyond our grasp.  And politically it's advantageous to keep talking about the "dream" but we're in the nightmare.  So let me put it in perspective.  The ones the government should be worried about are the revenue generators - the people who work and produce goods and services that can place wealth in the coffers.  It's that simple.  Because realistically, at some point, the federal and state coffers will only be filled with promises that cannot be backed by anything but debt.  And debt is the only thing that can grow when you constantly borrow.  At some point we will be much like Captain Jack Sparrow, on the Black Pearl, raising an empty bottle to our drunken lips and asking that relevant question, "Why is the rum always gone?"  Then we'll drunkenly stumble and say, "Oh, that's why."  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Where The Sock Really Goes

I still love the theory of time travel but unfortunately it will never happen.  And I have proof!  You have proof, you say?  Yes, it is in the absence of proof that verifies time travel is not possible.  If we were able to develop time travel in the future, wouldn't we have seen the proof by now?   The counter-argument to this proposal is time travel must be cloaked in a cloud of caution and secrecy.  To not effect us in this time, future travelers would have to visit the past in secrecy.  We would never know if we've been visited but there should still be clues though.  Little discrepancies left in plain view.  Such as the missing keys you could have sworn you left on the table but your future self came back, moved them, caused a brief hesitation in your routine to find them, which in turn prevented you from getting in a car accident that would have caused you great harm, and created a different reality.  So, the theory is, tangents would develop in the stream of time allowing two possibilities.  A world that clung to an unaltered flow of time and a world changed in an altered flow of time.  But, if a set course which allowed for a person to come back in time were to allow an alteration of set time and a flow of events, wouldn't there have been an alteration which deviated the allowance of the time travel itself?  In other words, if we change events in the past, with a visit from the future, that alters a current present, doesn't this prevent that same person from achieving the set point in time in the future that would have allowed a corrected course in a stream of events?  If time travel were possible (and we know its not because I say so) then we could only come in some passive setting such as a window into the past or future without the possibility of physical connection.  But this theory of "window" travel creates a fourth or fifth dimension of reality where we step outside reality and travel not in time but dimensions itself.  In other words, to defy physics and probability, the only answer would be to step outside of time itself and become a mere observer.  So, in my own way of thinking, time travel is not possible.  The best possibility would be the observation of time outside of time itself.  The creation of tangents of time variation created from visits within time from future or past points creates an unstable paradox that would theoretically create an unstable universe.  The answer lies outside of our reach within the current mode of thinking because we restrict ourselves to the basic reality of a set parameters as defined by physics.  We are barking up the wrong tree.  We can never travel within time in the physical sense but I do believe we could do it on the subconscious level.  And we can't really travel in time but rather observe it at the subconscious level at varying points within our own timeline.  Whatever we have physically lived through could be revisited or whatever we will live through could be seen before it happens as long as we do not leave our own timeline.  The parameters or limits of time observance are dependent upon the individual.  Mine would start upon my conception and end with my future death.  But those years are open to observation and passive interaction. I could not physically alter my life in anyway but I could observe any point of time that I've lived or will live.  But I would have to do it at a subconscious level.  But, that's just my theory and is constrained by rational thought and limited reasoning.  I do want to believe that time travel, in the physical form, is possible and would be awesome. And it would explain some missing socks that remain a mystery.  But time travel is only one explanation of where socks go.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.