Greetings ladies and gentlemen, once again this Thelonius Ronscpiacy reporting from the front lines at the battle for mankind's soul. Just outside the realm of right and wrong, I stand on the precipice of observance and action. I'm note taking from the digital underground, which leads me to the question, what are the odds that there are no coincidences?
A couple of weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to view what may be the metaphor for the Occupy Movement if it was set to music and took place in Paris in 1814; that was the musical Les Miserables. A brilliant film with enough music and revolutionary aspirations to appease the discontented. It is a film for the have-nots in preparation for the storming of the gates. One day more we move closer to the edge of the unknown while our politicians play chicken with our childrens' future; all for the sake of re-election. We may have to bring back the guilotine?
The movement of shadows out of the corner of my eye, against the wooden bars of the back of chairs, minutes after midnight alert me to the fact that the dimensions are opening, the shadow people are watching. It is necessary to view everything with an open mind.
Now is the time of year when Football has taken center stage. A few weeks ago, Heisman trophy winner and hopefully future Minnesota Vikings quarterback, Johnny Manziel continued to make College football look like an old SoloFlex commercial. There's no one open down field, just take it in for a touchdown all by yourself; simple. It's a good thing Notre Dame linebacker Manti Te'o didn't get the award. What a sad sad state of affairs. What's next? Will we find out he was molesting children? It is a Catholic school. Good thing the reporters who never checked their sources don't work for the Outrage. We have a reputation to uphold.
Is Ray Lewis a murderer?
At the urging of a possible future contributing writer who still goes by the moniker of the "Living Legend," and staying on a theme of football just in time for Sunday's AFC Championship game; I will briefly cover the possible Ray Lewis conspiracy. So, before we all get too excited and tearful at the end of what has been a Hall of Fame career, he just may be as tainted as the good ol'lying cyclist from Texas, Lance Armstrong. For those of you who do not know, Ray Lewis was indicted on murder charges for the deaths of two people in 2000 outside a nightclub. Charges were later dropped when Lewis took a plea deal of 1 year of probation and to testify against his two friends who were also charged. In 2004, Lewis reached financial settlements with both families of the victims. The NFL fined him $250,000 with no suspension and has since then, swept the entire incident under a rug. I want to know what you guys think about all of it. I've always suspected that he got away with it. Lewis admitted to giving police misleading information, took a plea deal, paid settlements, and said he "lost" the white suit he wore at the time the victims were killed.. That sounds like a guilty man.
On a lighter, much more positive note of amusement and interest; the biggest thing to come out of Minneapolis since the time that Prince actually released something worth listening to, was the North Minneapolis YMCA's summer youth group smash YouTube sensation, "Hot Cheetos and Takis". Get your fingers stained red, grab a cold beverage and enjoy what kids with talent and an interest in something that's relevant to them can achieve. With enough help, we can finally push Gangnam Style to the curb.
Everyone should do themselves justice and find the time to get introduced to the NPR show Radiolab. A philosophical talk radio show out of the liberal media elite mecca that is lower town Manhattan and immerse themselves in some deep critical thinking other than watching American Idol or the latest exploits of Honey Boo-Boo. It is a show of random coincidence, underlying meanings and trying to find a sense of purpose in a world that hasn't even the time to let proper people merge into traffic. This way to Radiolab
Then there is the ever intriguing, deepening mystery of what occurred in Cold Spring, Minnesota on the evening of November 29th, 2012 that left a 31 year old police officer, Tom Decker, dead from an apparent staged ambush. The once lead suspect is back in jail for failing to obey his "stalking" charges and the man who police eventually had centered their line of questioning after finding the murder weapon, ran into a pull-barn warehouse shed on his property and expeditiously hung himself. Which leads this conspiracy driven mind to ask, did he have the rope already there to hang himself? What was the young police officer investigating that led to his death? There's something rotten here and we may be a land of Swedes and Norwegians, but were not in Denmark anymore. The story continues to develop. Stay tuned.
How is Chuck Hegel a controversial pick for Secretary of Defense? Because he's made comments about the Jewish lobby in Washington? Because he made homophobic remarks 17 years ago? It is clear that if you are to go anywhere in politics, you better not upset the Gay Zionists. This issue correlates to the fact that Obama appoints more middle aged white men to head the CIA, Treasury Department, State Department and the Pentagon. What is this? The Augusta National golf club? Will they at least get green jackets?
"I'm about as diverse as my Cabinet. Just another Washington insider that wears a suit. To steal a character's name from Boardwalk Empire, call me Chalky White."
Wanna see something crazy? Look below and move from left to right.
A slight difference in insanity but crazy all the same was the lack of service at the Land O'Lakes Kennel Club Show a couple of weeks ago at the River Centre in St. Paul. The complete lack of efficiency in the "Keystone Cops" of the refreshment food vendors would've made you believe you'd been transported to Ellis Island around the turn of the 20th century and were waiting to be shuffled along with your papers and documentation, praying that they got your order and name correct and weren't placed in an inhospitable burrough of the city. To this educated Outrager, it was just another sign that we are living in the era of the minimally staffed; but we did get to see a Berger-Picard. Look it up.
In addition, here is a little nugget of knowledge from our Republican insider, Double T of the GOP. Enjoy.
Obama’s March 16, 2006 speech against raising debt ceiling
The fact that we are here today to debate raising America’s debt limit is a sign of leadership failure. It is a sign that the U.S. Government can’t pay its own bills. It is a sign that we now depend on ongoing financial assistance from foreign countries to finance our Government’s reckless fiscal policies. And the cost of our debt is one of the fastest growing expenses in the Federal budget. This rising debt is a hidden domestic enemy, robbing our cities and States of critical investments in infrastructure like bridges, ports, and levees; robbing our families and our children of critical investments in education and health care reform; robbing our seniors of the retirement and health security they have counted on. Every dollar we pay in interest is a dollar that is not going to investment in America’s priorities. Instead, interest payments are a significant tax on all Americans–a debt tax that Washington doesn’t want to talk about. If Washington were serious about honest tax relief in this country, we would see an effort to reduce our national debt by returning to responsible fiscal policies. Increasing America’s debt weakens us domestically and internationally. Leadership means that “the buck stops here.” Instead, Washington is shifting the burden of bad choices today onto the backs of our children and grandchildren. America has a debt problem and a failure of leadership. Americans deserve better. I therefore intend to oppose the effort to increase America’s debt limit. Sen. Barack Hussein Obama, Jr., (Senate – March 16, 2006)
The hypocrisy is a pandemic as bad as the flu season.
Finally, take a listen to the new sound of cold weather. You can almost feel the wind chill, smell Doc's Bohemian Cue and hear the Year of the Cat, although I would wager they'd love to kick his ass in good ol'Anoka County.
The lapping waves from a distant island come in, one after the other. The soft strings of apprehension are plucked from your consciousness as one slowly realizes that this definitely maybe the "Stairway to Heaven" for a new generation. From the ringing static in the announcement of the opening chords, there was a sense of endless possibilities; there were no limits....the Internet was blossoming before our very eyes and fingertips. Before there was Google, Twitter and Facebook. Before there was Pinterest, YouTube and Craigslist there was Oasis. Before there was Oklahoma City, Bosnia, Waco, Columbine, 9/11, Iraq part II, Afghanistan, George W and Barack Obama; before the global economic collapse and capture of Bin-Laden, there was wonder and hope. Before the I-pod and I-pad and before the suffocation of cellular phones, there was the simple choice to disconnect for a little under 8 minutes without having to spend hundreds of dollars.
The song posed the immediate question during the mid 90's; it bluntly asked of you, no pun intended, whether or not you knew or even cared to know,"How many special people change,
How many lives are living strange, Where were you when we were getting high?" In an era surrounded by thoughtless groups with lyrics about loads of money and expensive foreign cars with bimbos plastered on the hood; the song wanted to crawl inside the inner recesses of spaced out minds for total contemplation in the absence of obnoxious noise of bass serenading suburban streets. Adults too old to relate made no sense of the question or either were just thankful there wasn't any swear words. One could understand all of the lyrics.
Whether you loved them or hated them, you had to admit the song had a steady pulse all its own. It put a swagger in your step. You were at once brash, cocky and confident. The song was truthful in the realization that what it meant was the opening of new doors while it looked back without anger at the days of yesteryear; the song and its band members were giving much due respect to the Fab Four in the anthem of my generation. How many countless car rides in an aging blue 94' Plymouth Sundance were there? Who can forget a trip to Chicago in the silver bullet for a concert without Liam in the Rosemont Horizon, August 27th, 1996? How many nocturnal adventures were there at 910 University Ave in Northeast Minneapolis the fall and winter of 1996? The place where vanilla candles slowly burned down into dripping wax deposited into empty Premium beer bottles as sandalwood incense lingered.
Throughout it all, the many girlfriends, the many breakups, the many changes of colleges and on to Liam's nasal whine, Noel's screeching guitars layered over the steady drumbeat of Alan's rhythm; all of it layered over each other to produce what no other band has been able to capture since. The band smashed all preconceived notions of how a lead singer should act, how he should stand before the microphone; instead, they chose to let the music speak for them when they weren't fighting with each other; brothers will be brothers, especially when you're from Manchester. Despite it all, one came to learn, that if you climbed high enough up the twisting spiralling stairway to heaven, in the end, you just may have found yourself in a Champagne Supernova. Cheers. Oasis! Oasis! Oasis!
Ladies and gentlemen, grab a favorite beverage and strap yourselves in, for you may feel some turbulence; but, before I forget, I want thank for your time and consideration in making this another great year of spreading the Outrage.
"Minn, here's your lawnmower."
Once again this is Thelonius Ronscpiacy, reporting from the fringes of an infiltrated materialistic society; peering like Samuel L. Jackson from around a barely opened kitchen door in Django Unchained, staring into the inner recesses of the dirty, damp underbelly of popular culture and politics. During my habitual morning strolls in the neighborhood of Northeast Minneapolis, during the dawn of silence, during the running of little grey rabbits and the songs of tiny birds among very little traffic, thoughts float through the transom that is my brain. This cynical mind believes that the Fiscal Cliff plan is a well-devised strategy for the haves to pay a smidgen more in their portion of income taxes, while the disparity of wealth between them and the middle class expands like a mid-westerner's waist-line during the holidays, trapped underneath a never-ending cycle of debt and low-paying jobs that do nothing more than occupy time.
"Later, I gotta get to the next edition of Outrage!"
Another issue to be Outraged about, is if Adrian Peterson isn't the league MVP, then the NFL should be driven over the Fiscal Cliff and be replaced with Running Man inspired death-matches filled with felonious CEO's, greasy Politicians and cheating bounty producing head coaches.
Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I'd like to recap with some of the highlights and low lights and gaze with wearied eyes toward the possible dimming light of the American Empire, because in America, middle-aged white men are going to be the minority by 2060. It's just the facts. The demographics. It's the math. So, do yourselves a favor and don't get mad and vote all Republican, trying to hang on to the last remaining hairs on the balding head of what was once plantations and bigotry; now it's just call-centers and shopping malls. Same ends, different means. But that doesn't mean obediently voting Democratic either; I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid; instead pay attention, get educated and stay Outraged!
2012 saw the divide of America grow even larger with the 2012 election. America gladly passed up on the insanity of Rick Santorum and the cardboard cut-out of Mormon Mitt. Instead the election was dissected with the metrics of the electorate into tiny groups of numbers, demographics, sliced portions of the country that are only necessary to win elections, apparently that and a billion and a half dollars. So the America of 2012 has once again been granted with the high expectations of Obama but receives nothing but the thud of tired news. Four more years of pragmatism. So exciting! So inspiring! But wait, maybe there is still more hope that having been re-elected, he's got nothing to lose; will he perhaps overreach? Will the drone strikes killing more children each year than handfuls of Newtown massacres continue to go uncovered by the mass media? Will UFO's come down and wipe out both political parties? One can only hope. Would anyone other than those sleazeballs we've sent to Washington even care? Other than Karl Rove or Nancy Pelosi? Or myself? What would the good Dr. Jack Scharber have me reporting on then? The horror........the horror.
In 2012, our much loved and hated President openly stated that
he is for gay marriage. Wow. But it makes a hell of a lot more sense than why were
still in Afghanistan and why Guantanamo is still open for business. Mr. President, are you nothing more than a wolf in sheep's clothing?
In 2012, you can now follow the Outrage on twitter.
2012 saw the horrors in Syria become more hopeless. A place where 60k people have been killed in the last year and a half and nothing is being, or could even be done to stop it. There was then the terrorist attack in Benghazi, once again Israelis were unable to live surrounded by Palestinians and then there's always Iran, lurking in the weeds. Bibi even drew a line on a white board with a red marker at the U.N. It's that serious.
So, back to the big Saturday
morning headlines, the Republican ticket of 2012 had central casting for the role of
President to be played by a Mormon with nice hair and a weasel looking guy for
Vice President who wants to kick your grandmother out on to the street so they
can keep funding the endless-mindless wars in Afghanistan, Iraq and on Drugs.
There has only been one Catholic President in the United States and they blew
his brains out on a Friday in November in Dallas. What are the chances that a Mormon is going to be
sitting in the White House come next January? About the same as Scientology making any sense; some of you may be thinking the same about me, but I digress.
In 2012, The Global Outrage of and Educated Man's readership was also introduced to new contributing writer and pop-cultural critic, The Rolling Bone. He brought us his own tongue and cheek critical analysis of two highly anticipated albums of 2012. The Killer's Battle Born and Mumford & Son's Babel.
He gave us his most unique rating system.
5 Corgans=Buy it
4 Corgans=Burn it
3 Corgans=Stream it
2 Corgans=Mock it
1 Corgan=Punch a band member in the face
Here are some excerpts from those stinging acerbically laced reviews.
Half Killer/Half
Filler 3.5 Corgans
The Killer’s Fourth album,
“Battle Born," follows the band’s usual journey through the decade of Reagan
with mixed results this time around. I don’t think Brandon Flowers would appreciate a comparison to “Candle
In The Wind” by Elton John, Richard Marx, or Matchbox 20, but he certainly falls
short of the men he clearly aspires to be. “Flesh and Bone”
quickly builds to a lusher Killer’s style song filled with the kind of larger
than life themes the band has come to be known for. “Dark Horses,”
“force-fields,” “finish lines” and “raging bulls” stand in the bands way.
Brandon Flowers sounds as good as ever; he truly has one of the best and most
distinctive voices on the radio dial, and when he sings “don’t call me the
contender,” he lays down the gauntlet for all other current musical acts. With “Battle Born," the Killers
attempt to stay at the top of their musical game, but this fourth try feels a
little battle-weary. The chops that got them to the top are on full display,
but the band seemed unable to continue the fight throughout the album. They go for a big
sound and big themes again, but have wound up with an album that doesn’t quite
get there. The best three songs on the album sound better than anything their
contemporaries usually put out, but the rest of the album is merely just good.
Most bands would be satisfied with that, but I have a feeling “the contender”
would like another shot at the title.
Mumford & Sons Babel 2 Corgans
Everything that sounded unique and fresh about “Little Lion Man”
sounds repetitive on this go-around. Almost without exception the songs follow
the rock formula that Nirvana made famous two decades ago, Quiet/Loud/Quiet.
Scream-folk if you will. Unlike the Mighty K.C. however, Marcus Mumford is
unwilling or unable to use his voice as the instrument lacking in the bands
lackluster arrangements. Perhaps it’s my untrained American ear, but Mumford
has the musical range that William Shatner brings to acting roles. The depressing
nature of his lyrics, combined with his monotonous delivery, made for the
musical equivalent of sitting next to a freshly divorced drunk guy at the bar.
You want to hear him out, you know he’s hurting, but you want to yell at him,
“Get over it, buddy.” “Babel”
has the same fast strumming, the same intensity “Little Lion Man” did, but if
they were making a musical reference to Bob Dylan with lines about the
“watchman’s son” or the “wind that will howl” it was lost on me. It sounded
bland, and by third song of the album, pretty damn familiar. Someone should
introduce Marcus Mumford to Taylor Swift, so the two of them can compare notes
on getting dumped. The band took the blueprint of “Little Lion Man” and tried for 12 more
songs that would capture the spirit, and unfortunately the whole dozen came up
woefully short. Nice try, I guess. Babel might be great background music for killing a bottle of whiskey, but most of its songs would be better background music for killing a party. My recommendation is save your $15. If you
want a similar type experience for the price of a cup of coffee, try this
instead:
Then,
there's the thugs, the idiots, the murderers that call themselves the Taliban, who feel threatened by women with an education. So, they decided
to shoot a 14 year old girl named Malala in the head, because she was an
outspoken supporter of education for girls. Despicable. Cowardly and insane are
these Islamic Fundamentalists, or Fundamentalists of any sort who feel
threatened by progress, education and the inevitable.
2012 also saw the Outrage receive a shot across the bow from future sporadically contributing content writer, Double T of the GOP.
Dear Outrage,
Democratic compassion = the amount of people that get
stuff. We’ve reached the proverbial tipping point. More people getting a
handout than aren’t means America will continue to vote in democrats until our
demise.
Just look at California, they have billions and billions
of debt and they vote in a liberal super majority. This will be very
instructive for us to see, however the liberals will be blinded by blaming
everyone but themselves.
Sincerely,
Double T of the GOP
"Is there a more comfortable place we could talk?"
On Tuesday, November 13th, 2012 a total solar eclipse took place that was mostly visible from the coasts of Australia, while we as Americans were
experiencing an eclipse of a different sort; the ever intriguing, ever deepening webs of interwoven emails
and correspondences in the feet beneath the desks of now former CIA Director
David Petraeus, the once golden-boy of the military establishment who has been
brought low by his inability to keep his hands to himself, and off his
biographer Paula Broadwell. The mess just seemed to spread
like a toxic spill out of a BP oil rig. Apparently the US General Commander of
troops in Afghanistan, John Allen, was involved in all of this as a result of
email correspondence that he had developed with a Florida socialite by the name
of Jill Kelley.
Like a bad plotline
out of high school, Ms. Broadwell got wind of emails sent by Jill Kelley to CIA
Director David Petraeus, and like a lover scorned, sent harassing emails to Ms.
Kelley, all of which set off a chain reaction that has kept the media spinning
their wheels ever since, trying to play catch up. Will wonders never cease? The head of the CIA couldn't keep a secret. You can't
make this stuff up. The former commander of the "surge" in Iraq and
Afghanistan has had a extra-marital affair end his career. Bill Clinton knows
how that feels, but then again, he's got Hillary and his daughter Chelsea to
pick up where he left off. But oh, how the mighty are brought so low, and so
quickly. Hell, it shouldn't have been too surprising, we can't even keep our
Secret Service agents from keeping secrets, in what I imagine to be wasn't the
first time. Hell, you're in Columbia and prostitution is legal. Hookers and
blow, go hand in hand like politicians running from a crucial vote, or kicking
the Fiscal can further on down the road.
Lilith
Historically, witches are the true counter-culture agents. They've been
allegedly known to have extraordinary supernatural powers. They've come in the
forms of the enchantress, the sorceress, the woman out of control. The
biblical Lilith with long red hair, practicing cannibalism and
infanticide.What's not to love? Minus the eating of children of course. Except
for the red hair, "Is that you Michelle?" But seriously, witches
strike up the power of suggestion, the power of the imagination. The power of
belief. How else did the benign wise women of the pagan past turn into the
malevolent figures of the evil Witch? Instead, they've become women with a
lustful insatiable appetite for power. The Kardashians? Snooky? Hilary? How
else do you explain it? During the "burning times" in Europe when the
Inquisition was rounding up heretics, like Fox News host Sean Hannity rounding up "great
Americans," there were towns in Germany where there weren't any women
left. Maybe Todd Akin and the rest of his GOP pals would love it? But then
again, who would they legitimately rape? Each other? They already have that on
their Saturday night agendas. Speaking of Saturdays, during one Saturday in the
Middle Ages in a town in Germany, 139 people were burned at the stake. Now I
know from where Dick Cheney's hatred hath spawned. So, maybe instead, we
should all try to live the witches creed, "Do what thou wilt, but harm no
one."
I will not give the sick coward more recognition; there is no need to mention Newtown again.
"Don't believe a word I said."
Which
leads us to the enemy the men that huddle among the redwoods of Bohemian Grove would like you to believe. The ones behind the mess of the whole year, the smoking dragon in the cave,
the shadowy lurking figures of darkness who are truly behind the mess we as
Americans have been experiencing for the last 10, 15, 20, 25 years......China.
We aren't at war anymore with the USSR and the War on Terror hasn't been too
exciting without it's leading man Bin-Laden crouching in the desert firing
AK-47's as his henchmen run through jungle-gym equipment, and God forbid we
should actually take responsibility for our actions. We have Congress to do
that for us. They get stuff done. Right?
The enemy of America is China. Yep, the same country that buys all of our
Treasury Bills; they and the Federal Reserve; but, you'll never hear a
hand-picked goon like Obama or Romney trash the Federal Reserve. They know who writes and signs the
checks. It's not that they just print more money out of QE3 thin air or
anything of significance like that. Ssshhhhh, be very quiet. The Federal Reserve is always
listening. The Fed isn't to blame in any of this. Allen Greenspan was always
doing what was best for the American people. How did that little weasel escape unscathed from the economic debacle? Maybe the answer is the same reason his wife, Angela Mitchell, is a puppet for NBC News. But I bet you already knew that? Ben Bernanke can be trusted. No,
no, no, it's China and their currency manipulation that has ruined this
country. So, look out China, bend over and take your spanking, but just don't take any
of it seriously; trust us, because the check's going to be coming in the mail.
You'll get your money. But according to the USPS, it may not be for quite some time. Were broke.
Rufus: Lord of the Dogs: He made toothpicks out of logs.
The year 2012, also saw the loss of one of my truly dear good friends. A friend who saw me through the thick and thin and was gracious enough to host me at his rehabilitation facility in the north woods of Wisconsin back in 2004 when I so desperately needed a re-birth. From the many walks in the woods to the tennis balls hit into the pond, Rufus, you are missed and always will be. In his absence, being that the ever powerful all encompassing force of the universe works in entertainingly mysterious ways, a miniature version of him has been received with open arms and open hearts; may you someday meet Kanaan in person; his world is all milk n' honey.
Which finally leads me to ask, where has all the quicksand gone? It used to be all over in the television shows in the 70's and 80's, and now, it's nowhere to be found. Maybe it's because most of the middle class is stuck in it, and the need to put it on television would be like trying to get a politician to be honest; the desire is pointless; it's just not possible. Maybe it's been replaced instead with our love affair with zombies. What does that say about our culture? Do we see ourselves as brain-dead, greedy, hungry and dead-inside just stumbling through our lives from one chaotic scene to the next? I hope not. Ohhhh a shiny new electronic gadget.
Unfortunately it may be the way things are supposed to happen, but so many of us only live and experience life in the digital ether of the wireless world, without even touching the ground; we have no actual sense of reality, we live only in our minds; but then again, that may be the best alternative given the state of the world we find ourselves living in. We
are in the Age of Aquarius and entering the 5th dimension of
reality. Those who are prepared will find the transition cumbersome, but not
too difficult as to be fruitless. Those stuck with the materialism of the 3rd
dimension; well, you can already hear their subconscious screams of agony
amongst their silent obedience to the herd mentality. Republicans and
Democrats, Republicans and Democrats. Baaaahhhhhhh. The cycle of upheaval and massive cosmic change is shifting under our feet as I speak. There are tornado storms on the surface of our Sun the size of the state of Texas!!! All of that energy has to go somewhere, and believe me, it is coming.
