Renewable Revolution

Quote from: Eddie on December 04, 2017, 08:31:01 am

Remind me again where your mortal remains are to be interred....or where the monument will be, if you don't want the box? I'm taking a pass on being boxed.

Since it isn't legal to compost me in the garden (my preference) I suppose I'll go for the oven. Sky burial wouldn't be bad....

Originally I was going to go with cremation to keep it cheap sending my meat suit back to MO, but then I figured why should I deprive the worms of a meal?  Also why waste all that fuel to burn me up? The traditional burial recycles my remains, plus I found out with this type of burial I also get a crypt or vault made of concrete (I am requesting basalt rebar be used) the casket gets dropped into.  Costs an additional $1100, already paid for.  It's 3' X 9' so there is plenty of room in it to drop whatever I want besides my corpse into the crypt.  So I am not limited to the time capsules I have embedded in the stones.  I will be dropping The Book of the Diner printed on fine 100% Cotton rag acid free paper vacuum sealed in plastic with oxygen absorbers in aluminum file cases and filled with beeswax, then encased in a wooden Pirates Chest at my feet, also filled with beeswax.  The chest is soaked in linseed oil and painted with 9 layers of polyurethane on sealing.

The limited run First Edition of The Book of the Diner in Leather Bound Hardcover will be available at the Funeral with signed copies, assuming I get them before I croak.  SUN☼ University Publishing will print enough copies for all regular Diners, plus some Lurkers from the Blog.  Digital Copies on DVD-R will be available as well for anyone who shows up.  The Funeral will also feature a fine Buffet and a great soundtrack of Doom Themed music. 

The remains of my Meat Suit will rest for All Eternity at North Greenlawn Cemetery in Springfield, MO, a stone's throw from where my mom is buried.  You won't be able to miss the Tombstone if it is still standing, it's very distinctive.   :icon_sunny:  If Greenlawn happens to be the site of Carpet Bombing or a Nuke dropped by the NKs and you can't make out the landmarks and my Tombstone is destroyed, it's at 37.263847N, -93.277334W.

[smg id=4020 type=preview align=center caption="Cemetary My Plot 2sm"]

SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE

RE

           

Apologies to John McPherson for Agelbert Fair Use Cartoon tampering. 

Have you ever killed another human being?

Bill Perrino, Electrician (1976-present)

Updated Jun 21, 2017

I was going to answer this anonymously because of the off chance that a family member might read this. Then, I decided, I hope everyone who knew about this would read this and know the truth about what happened 41 years ago, almost to the day.

I had just graduated High School and was anticipating the joys which summer would bring. A girl, who I knew from 7th to the 12th grade, and I began dating after graduation. Joan and I attended an annual picnic put on by a major aerodynamic contractor. She drove her newly purchased convertible Fiat to the picnic which was located in the mountains north of Los Angeles.

We had a wonderful time that afternoon and we planned on camping the night then driving home in the morning. Before we went to our campground we stopped at a local market where we met a friendly gentleman, Paul, who, after we told him of our plans, invited us to spend the night with him at his place. We declined his offer. “Just in case,” he told us where his place was and how to get there.

We went to our campground and went to sleep. We were awakened by a friend of mine’s mother’s yelling, bitching and carrying on in a drunken diatribe. This went on for 20 minutes or so before we decided to leave the campground and take the dude up on his offer to house us for the night.

Joan and I jumped into her Fiat and proceeded to get the hell out of there. As we were leaving, the intoxicated woman’s son, John, stopped us and asked if he could accompany us - wherever we were going - he needed to get away from his mother. John jumped into the back of the Fiat, which, mind you, is a two seater, and away we went.

We found our destination easily. It was a couple of miles down a canyon road. We found Paul, who we learned was a caretaker for this property. Paul gave the three of us a tour of the property which happened to be a Wildlife Preserve. He showed us an elephant who was chained to a tree stump, then an area which was separated by a chain link fence and housed 86 lions. It was a fascinating place, the lions were beautiful. After showing us the lions, Paul said he needed to take a ****. I stated that I needed to also and we both turned away from the lions and started walking to the house. As an afterthought,Paul, looking over his shoulder, said, “Do not try to pet the lions.” As soon as his words were spoken, Joan screamed the most terrifying scream I, to this day ever heard. I spun around to see Joan clutching her hand while she screamed. Her fingers were attached only by her skin. I immediately remove my shirt and wrapped it around her hand. “Where is the closest hospital?” I asked Paul as John and I brought Joan to the Fiat. John was seated on the trunk of the Fiat holding my shirt around Joan’s hand as I flew through the canyon road not knowing where nor how far the hospital was. This was the first time driving this vehicle on a road I had never traveled.

As I maneuvered a curve traveling at a high speed, the rear tires hit some sand, and the Fiat was slammed into a guard rail. John was thrown down the side of the mountain. Stunned, I made sure Joan was alright, she seemed not to have any injuries other than her hand, then jumped down the side of the mountain in search of John. I was wearing only a pair of shorts, no shirt, no shoes. I found John halfway down the mountain. As I reached him I noticed several people approaching. They were from a campground at the bottom of the mountain, had heard the impact of the Fiat hitting the guard rail and came to see if they could be of assistance. One of them was a nurse and she began treating John. I ran back up the mountain and found Joan being attended to by the paramedics, which was a needed relief. Immediately I ran, more like slid, down the mountain where the nurse was giving John CPR. He was alive. I sat down placing his head in my lap, he was looking up at me. Seconds later, he was dead. I ran back up the mountain to see that Joan and the paramedics were gone. I ran back down, looked at John, then it hit me, he was dead. Devastated, I walked down to the campground in a daze. I sat on a picnic table and wept for I don’t know how long.

A married couple who were camping there asked me if I needed a ride home.This was hours after John died. These kind people drove me home where I passed out in my bed. The next morning the CHP were at the door and I was subsequently arrested for DUI, Hit and Run. I was taken to Men’s Central Jail in Downtown LA, where, I was told I would remain for my safety, in case John’s parents wanted to get revenge. John’s dad, a wonderful human being, demanded my release. John’s family helped me through the aftermath. If it wasn’t for their kindness I don’t know what I would have done.

A couple of months later I am sitting in Juvenile Court (I was 17 at the time of the accident) listening to the Judge read the charges against me: Vehicular Manslaughter, Leaving the Scene of an Accident and Driving While Intoxicated. From the audience I hear a voice asking the judge permission to speak. When I locate the person who spoke, I recognize who it is: the man who gave me a ride home, his wife alongside of him. He proceeds to tell the judge that I did not leave the scene, I was there hours after the accident and that I was not intoxicated.

All of the charges were dropped thanks to a kind stranger. How he knew when my court date was and where, I’ll never know. If by chance either of you kind people are reading this, thank you again.

Wow! The number of people who have read my answer is amazing. Thank you for all of your comments.

Once I started writing about what happened, memories flashed through my mind so fast, I could not write fast enough. As soon as I finished I submitted it. Now, after reading what I wrote, I realize I should have proof read it before submitting it and I left out some critical information:

Joan tried to pet one of the lions and was bitten by a lion. She was taken to Henry Mayo Hospital in Valencia where her fingers were re-attached to her hand. The Doctors did an excellent job.

659.5k Views · 28,432 Upvotes

America needs a life preserver. Liberty and justice for all are not the reality of today’s America . The system is still rigged against minorities, particularly blacks and Latinos, who are still moved to the bottom of lists.

I think that what we need to convey to people is that this is a messianic cause, with a vision of the good society and government that I think most of us would find terrifying, for the practical implications and impact that it will have on our lives.

We are at a crucial moment in our history, and we will not get another chance, by this cause’s own telling. They say again and again that this is going to be permanent, and they’re very close to victory. So I think we need to be really clear-eyed about understanding this and reaching out to one another without panic.

… [T]he Koch network and all of these people are doing what they’re doing because they understand that their ideas make them a permanent minority. They cannot win if they are honest about what they’re doing. That’s why they’re doing things in the deceitful and frightening ways that they are.

And that, I think, is a sign of great power for the majority of people, who I think are fundamentally decent, and agree on much more than we’re led to believe.

There was brilliance in the billionaire’s bluster. By denouncing free trade and the culture wars, [candidate Trump] was dynamiting the consensus orthodoxy that had dominated Washington for many years. This orthodoxy had, among other things, made possible endless sell-outs of working people by Democrats, who could savor their Tom Friedman columns and celebrate globalization’s winners and still count on the votes of the angry working class because such people had ‘nowhere else to go.’ Clintonism would only work, however, as long as Republicans did their part and adhered to free-market orthodoxy. Take that consensus away and leave the Democrats as the only party of globalization, and they would immediately be exposed to a working-class revolt within their ranks. … Trump was openly calling for such a revolt.”

Depression: Not Just Personal, But Also Neoliberal?

NoDifference • 18 hours ago

Excuse me while I pick up my jaw. Wow. I've come to this exact same conclusion myself. I also went through the same struggle that the guest describes. I've also been following the Basic Income story for years, but especially the last 2 or 3 now. I've always known that my depression was never caused by me, but rather by the environment I lived in.  

The isolation that Mr. Hari (maybe he deserves the title of Dr.!) describes is not limited to just the usual things that he mentions, as well as the loss of control. Part of the problem is the way we are told that, somehow, we must stop "feeling sorry for ourselves." This is absolute BS. Of course we do -- when we feel hurt or loss, we grieve, we feel pain, we hurt mentally as well as physically. Sadly, Emotional-Relational (ER) therapy is still quite popular, which involves reprogramming ourselves to be less human and more like machines. I got a dose of that back in the 1980s, in my search to find a "cure."

Shutting people down because we cannot see the pain THEY feel is not only cruel and adds to their isolation and pain, it is also idiotic. There is no reason why anyone should expect people to act "normal" in an environment that is hardly like anything natural or normal. Besides "normal" being subjective and difficult to define or get consensus on, it demands people behave in ways the human body and mind are not fit to handle (with, albeit, those hardy few with the toughest and best genetics). I do not and never did like being shut down, and I cannot see why anyone else would either.

The anti-anxiety meds I've been taking for 15 years -- and they've switched them a few times, and changed dosages as well -- are barely chipping away at the discomfort I feel. But the advice -- really, re-programming -- I've received can only transform people into even more unfeeling personalities as they shed the most human of emotions, the reaction to societal detachment. Full-blown cases are better known as sociopaths, those hardy souls who can shuff off pain, whether their own or anyone elses... and then continue with the same, or worse, anti-social behavior. And it is not difficult to imagine that some sociopaths could ultimately become psychopaths if the pain suppressed for so long suddenly explodes after years of concealment, like a water heater without a relief valve gone awry.

Why are we expected to feel content in an environment that makes too many days of our lives unbearable? We need to stop listening to those people who continually tell us everything will work out because the only way to guarantee that result, or anything near it, is to actually do the work of making everything work out. Basic income is essential to that end.

This interview was so good, I will be taking another listen to it!

USA for UNHCR donors help this Rohingya mother feel safe again 🌞


“My husband carried his mother and I carried my two children. We couldn't carry anything else with us,” said Alin Nisa, a 22-year-old Rohingya refugee now safe in Bangladesh. Despite enduring unimaginable trauma, Alin’s bright smile shares her hope for her family's future. ✨

The family was forced to flee when armed men came to their village in the middle of the night. After a treacherous 10-day journey across rivers and mountains, they reached the border of Bangladesh. Exhausted and hungry, Alin was relieved to finally see UNHCR staff members whose distinctive blue vests symbolized safety and hope.

Once settled in a refugee camp, the UN Refugee Agency supplied materials for the family to build a shelter. These included plastic sheeting and a tarp to protect against the region's heavy rains. The Nisa family also received kitchen supplies, mats, blankets and other humanitarian relief items.

With a sturdy shelter to call home and the means to feed, clothe and care for her children, Alin is smiling again because she feels safe — for the first time in quite a while.

Alin and her family are survivors of the fastest-growing refugee crisis in the world today. Since August 2017, approximately 647,000 Rohingya, an ethnic minority in Myanmar, have fled violence and persecution.

With the generous support of caring Americans, UNHCR has responded to the massive need by:

֍ Airlifting humanitarian aid including blankets, plastic sheets, sleeping mats, family tents, plastic rolls, kitchen sets, jerry cans and buckets.

֍ Constructing 8,000 latrines to protect refugees against potentially deadly, water-borne diseases and diarrhea.

֍ Establishing safe spaces within refugee camps where survivors of sexual and gender-based violence can receive counseling and referrals for legal support.

Quote from: Eddie on March 27, 2018, 08:14:53 am

  I asked him to make a referral to a Rheumatologist anywhere and I would fly there, but he refused saying he himself is a Specialist and doesn't do referrals. So I will have to go back to the Bimbos at Mat-Su and see if they will get me a referral for a Rheumatologist. 

This is bogus and an artifact of the current HMO insurance system and has nothing to do with medical practice. Actually,any doctor has an obligation to you as a patient to make any referral that he/she considers reasonable. His excuse is lame, but these days most patients buy it because they've been trained to go to their  primary care physician for referrals.

What if he'd found evidence of cancer, and it didn't happen to be a cancer he was qualified to treat? He would have made a referral in a heartbeat.

Yes, I know it was bullshit.  Further words to come out of his mouth during this portion of the conversation were: "I don't want to insert myself into this".  He also appeared angry at me for even suggesting it.  All he wants to do is deal with urinary tract issues, all the rest is "not his department".  Referal making is for PCPs, not a Specialista like him! 

Anyhow, I have to call today to see if the results for my Schnitzler's tests came back and then also discuss the possibility of getting my endoscopy & colonoscopy done by fasting instead of drinking the gross kool-aid.  So I will talk to them about getting another referal.  The **** Doc said an Internal Medicine specialist might work also, and we do have a few of those up here.

RE

Quote from: agelbert on April 07, 2018, 05:54:47 pm

Quote from: RE on April 06, 2018, 10:45:19 am

Quote from: Golden Oxen on April 06, 2018, 10:41:27 am

Quote from: RE on April 06, 2018, 10:28:57 am

Quote from: Palloy2 on April 06, 2018, 10:18:22 am

I don't know why you want to have it done at all.  I refused mine and it would have been free.  They only do it because they are then free from the possibility of being sued.  All it will tell you is that you are going to die at some time, or not, and you knew that anyway.

Of course you can always then go for a bowel/bladder ectomy and do your stuff into a plastic bag hung from your waist for the rest of your miserable life in a miserable hospital, or at least until you run out of money and they sneak a double dose of morphine into your nightly cocoa.

To be honest, I think it is a complete waste of time and money and will elucidate nothing.  I have a pretty good sensation of my problems, and they aren't in my colon or in my stomach per se.  It has something to do with the autonomic nervous system controlling appetite.  I think the stomach and intestines and bowels are operating just as the nerves tell them to operate, but they are not getting the right signals.

However, in order to drill down to this, I HAVE to do do what the Pros recommend for testing, and this is the one test I refused to do, because I feel unsafe to ingest the **** they want you to ingest for it.  So I will do it, but only if they agree to make me feel safe in doing so.  Also tell me how much it will **** COST!

RE

Get the cost in writing with a declaration clearly visible that it is not an estimate, no matter what the fine print may say.

Also tell them ahead of time you are not signing a **** thing 5 minutes before any procedure.

That is basically what I do unless I am against the wall and if I don't sign I get no treatment.

RE

I read your post and it got me to thinking about the autonomic nervous system and the signals to your digestive tract. Some time ago I learned that Lorazepam, a benzodiazepine in the valium benzo family of anxiolytics, was discovered to be produced in small quantities by the human intestines. It is a nervous system reaction appparently designed by the creator (though some will swear on a stack of Darwin's Origin of the Species Bibles that it was Doctor Evolution  ) to make us feel kinda nice when digestion begins so we will relax and not run around doing stuff so our body can work on processing all the goodies we just ate.

MAYBE, just MAYBE, your innards are not putting out enough lorazepam boost. As you have surmised, the autonomic nervous system and the "tone" of your vagal nerve, coming from your brain, is a BIG DEAL because there are an incredible amunt of brain to gut connections (more than can be possibly explained by pain receptors alone!). They still don't know all that they do, but they know your gut manufactures anxiolytics. If it isn't doing that properly, I imagine a lot of the symptoms you suffer from might surface.

It's just a thought. Lorazepam can only be taken sporadically because it is addictive after a month or so of taking over or about one milligram a day. BUT, taking it every few days or no more than once a week or so guarantees you will never be addicted to it.

I know you have other problems unrelated to your gut, but perhaps Lorazepam will help you.

Good suggestion AG, I'll see if Dr. Bimbo will write me a scrip for it.

RE