Baker’s Bad Boys – The Stiffsicle

“I found your cat.”
Words spoken on an extremely cold February night by the older Baker bad boy, Dean.

Terry and his tormentor, Dean (aka brother), were visiting their cousin John, in Hamburg, New York. Accompanied by their father and mother in the house that Uncle Walter built himself. The adults were sitting in the living room, making noises with their mouths about other relatives. Silly Sally, aka Aunt Sarah, and the Baker’s bad boys’ mother were listening in, murmuring about this and that.

“Where is she? I can’t see her!”
Dean spoke upwards to the eager young faces of his brother and cousin looking down from the second story window, which had now been raised fully.
“Come on down and I’ll show you.”
The two blissfully unaware young goobers shouted that they’d be right down, slammed the window, and Dean stood by waiting.

It was the first evening of one of their annual visits which all three looked forward to, knowing they’d be raising hell – and the bar for juvenile delinquency – in many a series of unexpected events.

The front door broke open, and the crunching steps pronounced the boys imminent arrival.

“Well, where is she!”
“There.”
Cousin John looked and if a kid could gasp, did so.
There was his beloved cat, frozen stiff as a fur popsicle, horizontal to the ground at the base of the tree.

Terry just stared, wondering what evil brother Dean would make of this.

“Why didn’t you tell me!… do you think she’s dead?”
“She’s a big frozen stiffsicle!”
Poor cousin John erupted in a crying rage, saying that’s not funny. Which of course made it hilarious. Both Dean and Terry cackled loudly.

Dean, in misplaced empathy, picked the departed kitty up and leaned her against the tree.
“There, she at least looks like she’s alive.”
“This was her favorite tree.” After a pause, John added, “I thought I heard her last night, told my Dad, but he wouldn’t let me go out… the bastard.”
This description of a nearby adult, along with the circumstances of the dear departed, caused a frisson * of discovery to rattle through all the boys.
“And now she’s dead!”

At this moment, the fursicle, aided by the winter wind, leaned a little left from the tree, then slid down to the ground below and rocked back and forth.
This caused all three Baker’s bad boys to look at each other in a startle, and then break out laughing.

“Stupid cat!” yelled Terry.
“I am the ghost of John’s cat, meowwww,” pronounced Dean.

“What’ll we do with her, John asked, my mother loved that cat, too.”

This question was solved in short order, resulting in the boys running inside, screaming about how cold it was, how they thought they heard Johnny’s cat. Making sure that his mother heard this, and would react with motherly concern.

“Is she out there, boys?”
“She has to be!”
“I thought I heard her by the front somewhere,” Dean stated.
Terry had somehow vanished in his usual Terry way.

“C’mon, Mom, could you at least come to the front door and see if you can hear her?” Johnny asked.
Silly Sarah concluded that it would be no exercise to simply humor the boys, so she marched toward the front door with them.

A slight but almost unheard meow caused a rustle amongst Silly Sarah and Johnny and Dean standing together.
“What was…”
“Shh!”

Simultaneously, so that it was not quite heard, a louder yet indistinct secondary meow was heard.

“That’s Pearl, Mom!”
“Did you hear that, Dean?”
“Yeh, I did.”

Aunt Sarah opened the inner front door to enable a view somewhat through the frozen over glass outer door.
The hush was interrupted by another startlingly clear meow.

“That was her, Mom!”
At which point as Aunt Sarah turned to look toward them, Terry came around the corner of the house and cracked the outer front door, to yell, “I found her!”
This caused Silly Sarah to step outside on the porch slab, while both Johnny and Dean crowded behind her.
“Well, where is she!” crowed Aunt Sarah.

At that time all three boys pointed to the ex-kitty who had been tied to the railing around the porch at waist level, and started a chorus of meows.

Aunt Sarah caught a glimpse and immediately inflated into adult hyperbole.

“You little bastards! Whose idea was that to tie that poor Kitty to the railing!”

Sadly, all three Baker’s bad boys had hustled into the house by then, and slammed shut the front door.

With the two Dad’s talking loudly, and Dean and Terry’s mother enjoying the conversation, it was difficult, for awhile anyway, to hear Silly Sarah’s outraged calls to be allowed entry, accompanied by a chorus of meows at every instance of her insistence on having the door opened.

This was indeed a good beginning to their visit, but nothing in comparison to what was to occur the next night……

©Dean J. Baker

*frissongreatly anticipated teenage rebellion

see more in…. Baker’s Bad Boys 

and don’t miss their cousin Harold…. Cousin Harold’s Adventures In The Real World

 

 

BIOGRAPHY

 

latest prose poems – Soliloquies Of The Horizons

 

Disclaimer: None of the events in any of the stories in either Baker’s Bad Boys, or Cousin Harold’s Adventures In The Real World actually took place. Therefore, they are untrue. Well, at least none will be admitted.

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Der Führer Hast Beshit Themselves – Politicians And Gangsters

alfred e.obama
alfred e.obama
I’m Gumby, Damnit!

 

 

 

 

 

There’s this so-called election coming up; that thing where you apparently have a choice, where with your vote you can put in office the candidate of your belief. It’s a great democratic myth.
Really, what if most voters as evidenced by the last election are morons? You know, elect the black guy cause there’s never been one of those in office. That worked out well.

Similar moronic offences are now pushing the unethical and immoral Clinton (whatever happened to the idea that public officials should not be able to enrich themselves while in office to guarantee impartiality) because she’d be the first person resembling a woman in office. Good going PoopDog. Check back on how well that worked with the Obama.

And then there are those enthusiasts of torment and nail-biting despair supporting Trump. I’m all in favor of having a businessman, or woman, in office since the country is as much a business as a set of ideals.
The problem once again are the morons. They bring back history as though only leaders have a corrupt and broken past, demanding an artificial and impossible superiority: something like the one those same voters imagine for themselves.
We do want politicians to show a sense and ability to overcome their own faults and foibles but to demand a state of almost perfection as a pre-condition of achieving office is to make certain only malleable liars get past the censors. So it’s nuts.

Look at the last election. Basically between Obama, and Clinton. Now it’s Clinton and Trump. The country is in a miasmic state of greed, corruption, superficiality, and murder. Admiration seems reserved for the rich and famous. Authenticity doesn’t pay. The puppet show’s the thing.

Someone of great ethics and the absolute ordinary activities of an unreflecting life would never have the chance to rise above the certainty of jealousy and envy such a state would occasion. Only Hollywood could promote such mythos and get away with it – you know, Mr. Deeds, and the American dream. And get paid to siphon off initiative and realistic awareness into such a soporific torment when the dreamer is confronted with awakening every day.

But this dilemma of acknowledging the reality of things as opposed to the Hollywood or Rumi addicts proposing that you become what you think is the greatest obstacle, not the current roster of shitheads up for election.

That comes down to education, and what’s essential. Which again brings us back to the ‘moronic inferno,’ as Martin Amis’ book title suggests.

Trump bespeaks a dangerous attitude of wanting to be Der Führer. The Leader. Sun Moon or whatever that Korean crank’s name was, Jim Jones and his poison Kool-aid: the little man, of Wilhelm Reich’s Listen, Little Man!

Clinton is an obvious unclever liar, weasel, and gassy swamp of deceit and engendered paranoia (could she really be as rotten as all her reported activities suggest? then why isn’t the b**ch in jail?because the system is corrupt)

Simultaneously we’re confronted with the fact that Europe is tits up. The game is over. Britain’s been invaded by a plethora of the evil. There is no longer any real debate about what’s between good and evil (thank you, Nietszche) as it’s been made obvious that what’s between good and evil is evil.

It is no longer the place of quaint country cottages and off-road trips over ‘England’s green and pleasant land’ (William Blake, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/And_did_those_feet_in_ancient_time), but a cesspool of Sharia- minded prehistoric inanities.
The last verse of that poem is:
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England’s green & pleasant Land.

Which goes to prove that there has always been the necessity for a good fight, in essence, war. Usually against yammering yobos who, while being media portrayed as idiots, are very clever and cannot be defeated by mere attitude, that indulgence of any lost empire.

Before you can change things at the ballot box, you need to change what people are learning. Begin by un-learning the lies propagated by the robber barons, the banks, and the profiteers posing as politicians.

I once thought politics and profiteering were not the same. I thought that there were examples of people who were idiots but they were the rare retards you could make fun of. It hasn’t been til lately that I see entire sections of the populace given over to utter stupidity. But it is stupidity of consequence on a wide scale, which to me means it is evil.
And its power comes from an uninformed, ignorant populace serving their own selfish interests.

#Politics is not profiteering unless you happen to be a dictator. #Peron #Clinton( for a first look at Bill’s unethics check out High Crimes And Misdemeanors by Ann Coulter) or #gangster. #LuckyLuciano

 

©Dean J. Baker

save your soul – buy some books —> Start here: Tormenting The Monkey

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM

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T-Rump Is A Symptom Not A Solution – The Trump Dump

I try to think, but nothing happens

It’s laughably certain that with another election coming up, the trained seals and Pavlov’s dogs of popular commentary are encouraging their string-alongs – da people – to howl and bark at whatever they say, for the good or ill, but to sound off in a manner suggestive of an enormous ground-swelling of support for whatever they might say.

I say laughably because it isn’t – disaster after disaster and people are still looking for some hero, or heroine to make sense of things for them. They may even ask questions, but they’re likely not the right ones.

What you’d ask of whomever you choose to vote for you ought to first be asking of yourself. What do you know about politics, democracy, the history of such things; the discrepancy between what government states and what it will do, how that is witnessed through recent history, and how electorate parties apply this to solicit the ringing bell to wake the Pavlovian instinct in the voters.

Politicians still pander in a way that suggests the Hollywood manufactured miasma of Jimmy Stewart going to Washington as Mr. Deeds still – if ever – exists. When reality suggests, repeatedly, that they’re playing a game of cut-throat: knock the other guys’ balls off the table, and keep yours on.
You might notice that has nothing to do with what they hint at doing for the public, or will do… because it doesn’t.

Who’s safe in some disaster? You? Because the government will help? Seems to be there was some enormous storm up New York way a few years ago from which the ramifications are still in process. The ones who got helped were rich. They felt the calming warmth of government aid almost immediately.
The ordinary, the so-called middle-class not so much.
And if there’s some absolute disaster, nature originated, nuclear, has government stated what they have planned for you? Nope. But you do know they have all their underground bunkers and communities therein stocked and stacked against the fallout.
They will say this is to help government keep running. If it comes to that state I think we ought to put them on a mountain top with a target painted on it, not save them.

More shit to bitch about, and distract from the source of the problem regarding governments and people.

To actually do something for themselves is what they do. Why aren’t people learning that and taking it to heart in the execution of their own necessary plans? And if they cannot do so, making it an issue when they decide who they will hand a high-earning paycheck to, notoriety, and a big pension, rather than the same old pathetic bullshit about ‘I’ll be working for you, against those ingrained interests… so I can become that ingrained interest.’

The pols come from the people. Everything in education suggest that to know history is to know its details and repercussions, divergences from belief and actuality. Which would seem to say – let’s not be certain here though – that if you learn from history you are more likely able to escape those repercussions.
And if you don’t, you’re likely to put on your Hope Hat, button down the clip-on brain pan of flies, shit, and controversy and tell yourself you do know, while getting sacrificed one more time.

What do we know about the Trumpet? That he blares, is uncouth, suggests depth is a characteristic of the spineless, financially troubled, and morally destitute? Joy. Bluto’s running for orifice. Yet….

Sure, I’d like to see articulated what I perceive of what is occurring; not as a measure of approval, but as a degree of what fresh and renewable insights can be generated to ensure as much as possible that the same errors do not occur again.
If anything, de Tocqueville in Democracy In America, and the Englishman William Godwin in An Enquiry Concerning Political Justice illustrate that the analysis of the process, and thus the process itself, is as or more pertinent to the political process than the elections themselves.

But for that to be known and possibly understood in all its ramifications you have to be as interested as you claim, rather than celebrating an indulgence in outrage and self-righteousness, itself part of the problem of dissatisfaction with current events.

de Tocqueville quotes:

The American Republic will endure until the day Congress discovers that it can bribe the public with the public’s money.
Liberty cannot be established without morality, nor morality without faith.
Americans are so enamored of equality that they would rather be equal in slavery than unequal in freedom.

And it is said that you get the ‘leaders’ you deserve, meaning I suppose, that they who represent the people are truly representative of the character of the people most prominent in their own times.

William Godwin quotes:

God himself has no right to be a tyrant.
There must be room for the imagination to exercise its powers; we must conceive and apprehend a thousand things which we do not actually witness.
He that loves reading has everything within his reach.
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Easier to indulge than to study. Sweeter to become part of something than to solitarily educate yourself and be able to pass that on to others. More complacent to be the undone victim than the steady voice of earned confidence due to learning and application.
More difficult to find reason in a crowd and be unheard but forthright. Harder to know it and still proceed.

Are the candidates teaching us any of this? Or simply satisfying the mob psychology[check: The Mass Psychology Of Fascism by Wilhelm Reich] with the same solipsisms that pretty much generate their own necessary addiction and guarantee an endlessly revolving pirouette of pas de duhs without any awareness that the marionette clack-and-dance are the bones of our ancestors warning us we’ve joined their dance.

©Dean J. Baker

Save Your Brain – buy my books. Really.

{this is a re-post from Dec.18. 2015 – see, you missed it}

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