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Superpowers
Defies gravity Can spit really far Almost touch my toes Can cut a fly's legs off with a beer cap from 20 paces Know how to say useless stuff and prattle on in a dozen languages Don't know when to shut up
Favorite Quotes
To be for or against the Plague, it's much the same thing. Fiddledee, how a body shure do get around - just 2 weeks ago I was in Mississippi and now I'm all the way to Tennessee... Eat or Be Eaten Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Biography
Born in swaddling clothes (designer, of course) at the confluence of big waters, my first recorded words were "Dad, can I have the keys to the car?" Raised a Southern Pedestrian, my musical talents were recognized at an early age, leading to my being exiled to the shed out back with a stack of books that became my eddykayshun - advanced readin', writin' & ritmytick, creating a major quandary of "what will I do, oh what will I do?" (Gunslinger) As an old black man advised in song, "You Gotta Move", so move I did, traveling the byways sideways even a lot of driveways, picking up sticks and psychological tics, even movin' to Beverlee through a quaint misunderstanding of the seriousness of TV series, until finally I blew up so big the carry nation incarnation tarnation couldn't hold me no more, so I fixed my sights on yonder sitar, and like Queequeg and Paul Bowles and one of those abducted kids by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I ventured forth to the larger world, pickin' and grinnin', doin' me some reckonin' and naughts from naughts, occasionally rightin', building me some buildings and wiring and just trying to understand the babble comin' out of people's mouths and heads, I finally ended up in what Rummy quaintly calls "New Europe", which ain't so new from what I sees, but that pit in my stomach from lack-of-moving-sickness finally disappeared, and instead I sit behind a whopping big desk stacked with missives from all the chiefs with big whampum around the world telling me "what's going on". Which seems like a load of boolshit to me, but I guess that's what keeps me busy and entertained now, separatin' the weeds from the chapstick. So my name is Perry Keys, or Peracles to you, and since my mammy always said, "say please and thank you", I added the please, but I'm holdin' back on that thankee until I feel you've earned it. But do welcome, and I hope we's a gonna have a real good time. It all starts with, "I wuz born a poor young white chile livin' in the South..." and we cycle through again, like Nietzsche and his infernal regurgence. So enjoy, and let's spin a spell...

History

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Blog Posts

A Visit from St. Vlad

'Twas the day after Christmas and all through the site
Not a blogger was stirring, no postings in sight.
The comments were lined by the masthead with care
With hopes for some non-Trump discussion as fare
While readers rolled restlessly slumped in their beds
Damning hangover headaches that chastened their heads.
My alias and I had just poured a nightcap,
thinking we'd hack out some politically motivated crap.
When out in the blogosphere there arose such a natter,
A tweetstorm with fake news that filled it with chatter.
Off to my Facebook I flew in a rage
To offer my musings on each open page.

Bring on the Lepers

I stopped by an exhibit in the station this eve, a nice large format profile of dozens of homeless and the sheltered, their stories - the guy who finds out he's adopted when he finally gets his various documents on leaving high school, the woman who manages to free herself from an abusive husband only to lose her leg to disease and get thrown out of guest work in England, another who can't manage to stay off the juice, one's a mechanic who works hard but always finds himself on the wrong end of some scam or people who don't pay the bills. They describe their day, how they survive and pass the time. I see similar folks in front of the station, handing out their magazines trying to earn a few coins of respectable money in return for their soup and sandwich. Some have started giving tours to tourists and locals, showing the city from the homeless point of view, even though one's a struggling male prostitute with AIDS, others have different impediments that make it unusual for them to mingle and present their world.

"There are a million stories in the naked city - this has been a few of them". A few that cut through.

The Evil that is Hillary

There's a famous line in The Godfather where Brando exclaims, "how did things ever get so far?"

From Russia with Love: A Tsar is Born (updated)

Those surprised at Russia's annexation of Crimea during their Sochi Olympics shouldn't have been - in 2008 with the world focused the Olympics in Beijing, Russia launched a land, air & sea invasion of Georgia

The Olympics themselves since Soviet times have always been a Russian showcase - extended to Eastern Bloc countries during the Cold War. And some habits die hard, what with 111 Russian athletes banned from the Rio Olympics for doping (originally the whole team), and the announcement yesterday of 1000 athletes implicated in doping.

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

In 1992, Bill Clinton was under attack for a reported affair with a woman from Arkansas. His wife, likely pissed, could have taken the easy way out, stayed in the shadows, let Bill work it out. Instead she went on camera and gave a speech that largely revived her husband's presidential chances - and cemented her negative opinion in the public eye for all time to come.

Remainders (if 6 turned out to be 9)

It becomes easier and easier to blog the absurdities, but unlike intelligence, time has not distended. So in the interest of keeping up, a few thoughts on where we are. Are we going to pass Peak Trump early? One could only hope, but seems his cohorts and apologists adapt to each new event easily, as like the fake Westworld-like CNN panel on SNL last week.

Trump has ushered in the post-TV era for campaigns. It's not just the free airplay he gets on the networks - he really doesn't need promo anymore - it's all organic. He spent 1/3 of what Hillary spent, and nobody cares - every new tweet or news blip is simply good news for Trump, however bad it sounds. It's all impressions, "likes". Just like Facebook doesn't have any "unlike" button, there's no such thing as bad news for Donald - any mention will do. We have to find a way out of this or we're sunk

[Update to note the right's already absorbed any Taiwan damage - it's either "China can't tell us what to do", "that Trump's a straight-shooter, yay!", or my favorite, "the left is sexist cuz Taiwan's leader is female". Surprised?]

Carrier/United: A Fool & His Money...

For all who whinged about the supposed Clinton Foundation supposed possible appearances of "pay-to-play" for their charity, Donald's not even in office and the pay-to-play and corporate welfare has begun.

In order to look tough on losing jobs to Mexico, he's orchestrated a sweetheart deal of high-level access to United Technologies to keep 1000 jobs in Indiana, half of its planned offshoring. Contrary to the suggestions that this was done with Indiana tax breaks, most of which had already been rescinded due to Carrier going back on its promises).

Imagine, a $56 billion a year company, with $7.6 billion profits, requires handholding from the President-elect to not offshore an operation that's 0.1% of its revenues - a blip. In return, it gets government access for its US government military business likely worth billions, since it sells $5.6 billion to the government yearly.

Double standards

I came across 2 stories this morning that rather shocked me for their overt incitement to race mongering:

"Here’s the gossip: Breitbart is about to replace Drudge as most important White source of journalism", plus

"When Paul Ryan changed political reality. And evangelist culture slapped him down"

I wondered where they got the affrontery to talk like that, the implicit white privilege, and the rather retro political position they've taken as if we were going back to 60's Birmingham.

And then I squinted a bit harder:

Cuban Dependence

This blog was inspired by and draws from Jerry Sierra's summary of Cuba's long struggle and failure to achieve independence.

American's will cheer or lament Fidel's passing and proceed largely ignorant of our involvement in Cuba's history the last 300 years, even as the torch bearers of the budding British presence in the New World (and the benefactors of the chaos unfolding in the Old).

America's Batista, Whorehouse of the Hemisphere

As if we didn't have enough Irony this year and election cycle, Castro's death now invites disturbing parallels.

It's like Cuba went into a deep sleep, and woke up not to the revolution, but to Batista's government back in power - with the new/old values led from Washington - more 5-star hotels, "beautiful women", rigged mafia ties, military/security force backing and a callous disregard for poverty or those disconnected from this wealth.

Yes, America's voted in the Batista of the 50's to be its new Godfather-in-Chief.

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