I heard the term , “Military Intelligence” on the news tonight which inspired the following. War is STUPID! If you are a WARRIOR, you’re stupid! You’re just as stupid, or psychotic, or both, as that dude that killed 49 people at that Gay nightclub in Orlando. You’ve heard the term, “Military Intelligence?” I wonder if anyone has ever independently given an IQ test to every single man and woman wearing a uniform for our country? No, has never happened.
How about we give that IQ test and a “Psychiatric Evaluation” when they first enlist, the day they retire or exit the “Service”, and every fifth year of service. Why so soon you ask? You can always dodge the IQ test if you choose to do so, just by exiting the military
when your four year hitch is up. We figure it’s a good thing to find out if you learned, increased your “Intelligence Quotient” in four years, i.e., or are you that stupid that you signed on for another four years.
Why every fifth year of service? Do the math, unless you are bare-foot stupid. Like in the fifth year, you really want to know if that person increased their IQ? Or that person is still just as stupid. If that person exits the service he is obligated to take the test regardless. Unlike the “smarter” dude that got out after four years. We have to consider that the dude increased his IQ. Even if it is only by a few percentage points, he got smart enough not to re-enlist.
I would really like all the data compiled into a graph chart and keep collecting the data for twenty years or so. The interesting part would be to actually find out if killing other humans increases your intelligence? Or your chances of having PTSD? Think about it! Is that retiring Four-Star General any smarter than he was the first day of boot-camp?
In all fairness to ALL officers that went through academies or schools, We expect that you will naturally be smarter than that grunt with a high school education that you just commanded to “Charge!”. 
You happen to be smart enough out of West point to be, and you are, THE order GIVER, NOT, the order TAKER. You are at a high enough rank that precludes you from actually aiming and pulling a trigger. Killing Someone! If you became a civilian soon after killing the enemy, just one other human being, I’d say you got a little smarter, even if only by a point or two.
Even if you started out as an officer and you were the smartest person in your school, the first time you kill, and like it, you are just plain fucking STUPID! Catch my drift? The ability to pull a trigger and take someone’s life, does not require intelligence.
Maybe training with firearms and missile launchers, and how to stick another dummy or used tire, with a bayonet? I don’t think so.
I really am convinced that we have always been savages, since the beginning of time. The fact that as a species, we have evolved, gained, “Guess what?”. Enlightenment! Intelligence! What I am saying is that a fairly good portion of humans are possibly, just possibly, smarter than that idiot with a gun. Smart enough to comprehend that killing someone is just plain old stupid.
I also think that should we survive as a species, we will continue to get smarter, and purposely taking another person’s life will eventually be obsolete. For the stupid ones, no more war!
It took years and a growth in intelligence before man invented the bow and arrow. We and our technology have evolved to the point where we can be sitting in a secure building a thousand miles away, operating that drone that just took out dozens of people.
I think today’s modern deer hunter using a bow is much smarter than that dude with the AR-15 hunting that same deer. I will bet you that my Cousin Barry and his daughter Sam, would never invite Cousin Jack and his AR-15 on their hunting trip.
Reminds me of another whole story. Comparing the hunters that wait for the deer to come to the salt block (lick) while they sit in their deer stand, and a bow hunter that starts at the edge of the field and woods, with camping gear as well, in case they have to or plan to, spend a night or two, until they have their deer. Or a week because that’s how they planned their hunting trip. Canoe and all. You would think my cousin and his daughter were part Chippewa.
I hope my grandson will still be alive when people stop killing other people. It sure as hell isn’t going to happen why I’m still alive. I’ll be lucky I guess, if I witness an Asteroid wiping out all of mankind, or full out Nuclear War, which some of us will survive. The sooner we evolve, the happier I’ll be.
I’m really not an anti-gun activist. I’m an anti-multiple round clips dude and part-time philosopher. 
I had a NRA patch or whatever they gave you when I was pre-teen and barely had any pubic hair. The second amendment does not give you the right to own your own shoulder-held missile launcher. I will give you a single shot rifle. Your choice of caliber or gauge. Maybe a 3-round clip for your AR-15.
Which comes right back around to our discussion about intelligence or the lack thereof.
How about an IQ test before that person is allowed to purchase or possess a gun? I would add that mandatory psychiatric evaluation. Think about it! ANY person that has “Common Sense” is potentially smarter than that idiot over there with the PHD, and especially the ones that have M.D. after their name.
I am not talking about all Doctors. My former brother-in-law is a pretty smart dude. He makes millions of dollars making balding men and women hairy in the right spots. I once asked ”Uncle Bob” if he had ever transplanted a man’s pubic hair to his upper lip (the dude couldn’t grow a mustache). Once the procedure was finished, the patient kept yanking on his nose, HAHAHAHA! (LOL!)
Certain studies may naturally come with more common sense and exhibit a higher intelligence than say, 
a PHD in Hotel Management. Compare the PHD in Accounting, with the dude with a degree in Quantum Physics. I have met a lot of highly educated morons.
My baby brother, rest his soul or energy source, never finished the eighth grade, and he was one of the smartest human beings I’ve ever known. I pretty sure this self-taught voracious reader named Johnnie had a much higher IQ than your average politician in Washington, DC. He was super smart and died way too soon and instantly, of an Aneurysm.
Final thought. Next time you happen to see someone entering or leaving a recruiting office, or for that matter, a gun store, think about doing a survey. Three questions. How far did you get in school? Do you know what common sense is? Do you have any guestimate what your I.Q. is? Right it down, make me a chart. 
If you are stupid, and pass the Psych Test, you’re OK for gun ownership. If you are stupid or smart, and you tortured your neighbor’s cat to death when you were 15, guess what, you ain’t getting a firearm. You more than likely failed the Psych Test.
I got a chuckle tonight, actually 4:15 in the morning, as I was turning off the lights and going to bed, I noticed that I had taped a 8 1/2 by 11 sign next to the A/C thermostat that read, “Turn Off” I did this as a reminder to myself when I go to Los Angeles to visit my kids and grandson, which is usually for at least five days. All lights turned off, and the A/C turned off I jumped in the sack. In the Summer, here in Phoenix, I try to remember to turn the A/C off because at night, I’m not going to lose much of the cool air, at least for several hours.
I started to lay down to go to sleep, and thought to myself, at least I haven’t posted a sign in the bathroom above the toilet that reads, “Wipe Ass”. That would be real “Oldtimers” disease. I did find out that I’ll have to tape up a sign in the bedroom that reads, “Turn Living Room Light On” in large easy to read letters, before I have to navigate over to my couch, as I did so this morning just before dawn in the dark, knocking over a half glass of juice onto the carpet. All because I just HAD to write this thought down as a memo on my cell phone. I LOVE the creative writing process.
Then, once I was finished, I thought I may as well add this to my blog post this morning because at 4:49, I’m still wide awake. I’m not knocking anything over because daylight is streaming past the shutters at 5:30 in the morning. I think I like this post. Ten revisions by 5:30 am.
One last thought for the day at 6:08 am, “Those of you that are free from sin, cast the first stone please”.
Strain: “Double Dream”, harvested May 4th, 2016 (I have to remember this strain) 
Its was a mild, comfortable, hardly high inspiring strain.
It’s 11 in the morning. After five hours, I discover that I should have left the A/C on. When I turned it off at 5:45 AM, it didn’t take long for the inside temperature to catch up with the outside. Thermostat says 91 degrees. Lesson learned. Usually if I’m not writing, I’m in bed by no later than 9:30 pm and the house stays cool thru the night.
It’s interesting to take note that when I finally did go to bed at 6:00, the arthritic pain in my right hip had receded quite a bit. I believe due to that marvelous strain I vaped last night. Hallelujah!
And you had thought that you were finally going to bed at 6:45 in the morning. You reach for and click the switch on the lamp on your nightstand, and turn the frickin light on because you were momentarily fooled by the full on sunlight. You quickly turn the light off and laugh at yourself. You also notice that the medicinal effects of that very good strain have worn off.
We sometimes think it is hopeless and against all odds, but hey, we are part of the 99% against the 1% that currently have absolute control. We can and shall overcome the odds, but only if we truly ORGANIZE. Otherwise, we are all just as a “Single Fly, Farting in the Wind”.
For those who have been keeping up with my progress with “The Dead Armadillo” story, here’s my latest:
TheDeadArmadilloManuscript112619
Peace & Abide, La paz y la morada, السلام والالتزام , שלום ושמירה, Paix et Demeure, Խաղաղությունը եւ մնալը, Мир и пребывание,, 平和と遵守, 和平與恪守, Aştî û Abad, صلح و عبید, Fred och Abide, Kapayapaan at Patuloy, Frieden und Bleiben, Mir i Ostanite, शांति और निवास, Hòa bình và ở lại, Мир и Абиде, שלום און בלייַבן, สันติภาพและการปฏิบัติ, Mir in bivanje,
Yadhum oore yaavarum kelir, “The World Is One Family”
Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD, RSISHE
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The person that pushed the red button? Her last name is Trump (great-great-great-grand daughter of the Donald) how bizarre is that? Yes, women are pretty much in control of things by the year 2116. Not so bizarre. Women choose mostly to artificially inseminate when their number is drawn, and men “Spank the Monkey” mostly for the money, if they are selected. The bar is set pretty high if you want to become a “Donor” with things like, intellect, health, physical attributes, etceteras.
Future food will look real, taste real, but all food will have the same shitty feel as you bite down. In other words, that Filet Mignon you just ordered will have the same feel in your mouth as that Reese’s Peanut Butter cup. I could get used to the funky texture as long as my steak still tasted medium-rare. Thank God that we eventually learned how to replicate raspberries, and spices like garlic. Water rationing is a normal part of life.
Since the whole world has adopted the “one child per couple” law, to help win the war on overpopulation, we all consider life as a very beautiful thing and treat each other kindly.
that are protected like the Holy Grail and used in the “A-MAZE-ING Fight” matches. That means no competing stadiums or arenas, because there are only 2 pistols in existence. It is the only WORLDGOV sanctioned “A-MAZE-ING Fight”, and it moves from city to city all across the globe every two years. Just like the World Olympics used to do many generations ago..
Natural disasters help as well. I believe that cataclysmic disasters have wiped the planet clean of all life many times in the last billions of years. Wiped the planet clean except for……
I’m sure that the combatants back in Cave Man days, each had their own sides cheering them on, “Ughh Raggah Daggah!” which translated means, “Kill that Asshole!”.
The walls and ceiling of the maze itself would be made of this clear, bulletproof thermoplastic, so the two competitors could see each other at all times. Hand each fighter a single-shot Revolutionary War type pistol, a baseball bat and a flyswatter. The dude that walks out of the other end of the glass box, alive, is the winner. You not only can fill the football stadium with paying spectators, the “Pay- Per-View” money would be huge.
Convicts with sentences of 25 years or more. United Americas North certainly has the prison population to sustain thousands and thousands of matches. Tell them that not only are they going to be paid millions, they’re going to have their sentences reduced to time served, and their record expunged if they win. The murderers, rapists and pedophiles and republicans would not qualify for this sport.
Fly Handlers start pumping millions of Horse Flies into the maze from both ends. The convicts, excuse me, “contestants”, know that they not only have to get close to each other, they have to make sure there’s no bulletproof sections of plastic between them when they shoot their pistol.
If you do live, but you chicken out and make it back to the beginning of the maze without getting shot, they catch you in a net and put you back in prison to serve out the rest of your “25 to life” sentence. There would be plenty of action, a chase scene, perhaps some romance, as the next two contestants have conspired to try to escape instead of play the game. One dude gets netted right from the start. The other contestant, the hero of the story, escapes and a pursuit by the authorities is on.
What got me thinking about the futuristic sport, i.e., my other inspiration, was a documentary that was on tonight called, appropriately, “Backyard Dawgs”. It’s worth watching, if just to get the gist of what I am saying. In a mostly black, impoverished suburb, men are fighting bare-knuckled, bloodying each other up, and literally knocking each other’s teeth out. 
One dude lost a gold tooth, and someone in the crowd found it and gave it back to him. Brutal. How far did that gold tooth fly?
with whatever kind of rifle he has, give him a spear. Let’s see who lives. I think the odds are 50/50 that the elephant could win against one spear. That’s why the hunters of our not so distant past and our prehistoric relatives, hunted large prey with packs of hunters. Okay. That’s kind of harsh. Instead of a spear, give that hunter a musket, and plenty of powder, and bags and bags of lead balls. If that hunter is a crack shot, the elephant has less chance of winning. The shooter that is so bad, he couldn’t hit the road with a rocket-launcher, even if he was aiming down, is going to get trampled to death.
Once we have our distant cousins trained to fire and reload the weapons (costing us millions of bananas), and we go to war somewhere, we can drop the chimps out of airplanes over the enemy. Yes, we have to teach them to remove their parachute harness when they hit the ground.
I think the settlers who came west in the covered wagons got just a little paranoid when they saw the Indians gathering on the hilltop over yonder. Especially if they had been attacked once or twice before. “Circle the Wagons!” People can say, that’s just progress. That’s how the good ole U. S. of A., came to be. Our forefathers were courageous explorers and settlers. We fought the Indians, and settled the land. We trapped the beavers and shot the buffalo. Bullshit! We wiped out their nations and took their lands. Think about the blood of the women and children of the native indigenous people we massacred.
I’m reminded of the story of “Bear Hair Bob”. A trapper who was fortunate enough to survive a “scalping.” Bob covered up his bloody skull by sewing a fresh patch of bear skin to what was left of his scalp. Pretty odd looking, bear hair and all, trimmed in a thick crew-cut fashion. When the Indians came upon his campsite, he had tried to negotiate with beads and trinkets that he had on hand. The Indians took those, all his Beaver pelts, his horse, scalped him, and left him for dead. Why you ask? For the Indians, he was trespassing on their land, and trapping their beavers. How would you feel if some hunter with a deer rifle came on your land without permission? Bear Hair Bob eventually ended up back in Boston, charging a nickel for anyone who wanted to touch his ”Hair”.
I don’t think all of us are crazy. I don’t think its crazy to believe that every human being on earth should be treated with respect. I don’t think our cultural, societal and religious differences should get in the way of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Love thy neighbor as thyself. Regardless of who or what you believe is your Almighty God, I am pretty sure that’s the point Jesus was trying to make. Throw in some religious Mumbo-Jumbo, and what do you get? “With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things, and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.” – Steven Weinberg.
Back to paranoia. I really don’t think that people are following me. I do think that humankind needs a great awakening. In the meantime, treat all people, treat all things, with respect. If you really think that people are following you, see a shrink. If you hear strange voices, it’s not your broccoli trying to give you advice, again, have your head examined.
Oh yeah, the other difference? Even though he couldn’t carry a tune in a shoe if his life depended on it, Kenny still enjoyed going to Karaoke with me.
Kenny was the only person of color working in his department, so he was an anomaly of sorts. In fact, at that time, there were very few people of color that had risen the ranks and climbed the “Ladder” of success like Kenny had. He wasn’t sweeping the floor, or taking out the trash, he was responsible for administering the procurement of millions of dollars in high tech equipment and support for a globally recognized company. I was a sales dude at the time, and my company had not seen any business from Kenny’s company in many years. Our only competitor had 100% of the business.
He was sitting there typing two-finger style, staring at his computer. So I took a few steps to the side chair alongside his desk, and started to sit down. When my butt was approximately five inches from the seat, still directing his gaze at his monitor, he said in a Drill Sergeant manner, ” I didn’t tell you to sit down yet”. Well, I immediately stood to attention and backed up two feet to the entryway into his cubicle. I swear I stood there for another two or three minutes before he swung his chair around and said, “You can sit down now”. Kenny took the next ten minutes telling me all the things wrong with my company. Needless to say, we did not take lunch together, and like I said earlier, I thought he was the biggest asshole I had ever met.
Now, what he said was true. Our prices were way too high, and our lead-times were way too long. I took these insights back to my company, and within six months, we had reduced both to the point where we started to get some of the business. After a year, and several more trips, my company was enjoying 100% of the business, and I was slowly becoming a part of Kenny’s small circle of friends. I share this with all the sales people out there as a lesson. Three things. Be honest. Be genuine. Be patient. Take your time and really get to know your customer. Don’t get discouraged. Be patient. If you are able to look at your customer with one eye, while reading the documents on their desk upside down with the other eye, you are not my kind of salesman.
Of course your company has to be competitive in all areas. I was fortunate that my company was willing to adapt to the marketplace. Over time, Kenny became a real friend. We did things that friends would do. Went fishing. Went to the casino, usually with a few other dudes from his office. My favorite thing was going to the racetrack in Saratoga once a year, to watch and bet on the ” Running of the Travers”. To our amazement, I actually won a Trifecta one year.
was fun, but challenging because that one time we did go, it was in an old leaky row boat, oars only, no outboard. We always had a great time fishing except for that one hot, and muggy August day (I did most of the rowing), and we caught nothing.
Kenny and I remained friends after he retired. When his health began to deteriorate more and more, his buddies and I would still take him to the casino. I can remember pushing Kenny, his oxygen bottle, and his cigarette through the casino in his wheelchair. No matter what you said to him about his health and smoking, he would acknowledge, ”Yeah, I know, I should quit, it’s too late for me anyway”. He never did quit, and it WAS too late, he died.
We laughed at each other, and ordered another Black Label on the Rocks. Kenny was a great friend. I grieved when he died, along with all of his friends and family. Lesson number two. Folks, Racism, Bigotry, Prejudice and Indifference are taught and therefore learned, not in-bred.
This B & W photo is our actual windmill. The windmill was a solid luscious green of grape leaves in the summer. As a kid growing up on that farm, it was great to be able to enjoy all of the “fruits” and “vegetables”. And also at that age, it was too bad that I took it all for granted.
Google it. It’s not pleasant. It doesn’t help. Ed eventually came back home crazier than ever. Of course I was too young to say, “Why didn’t they give him a fucking Lobotomy!” This would be the beginning of the final down-hill slide for my Mom physically, and for the family mentally.