20% of 100,000.00 = 20,000.00 (sober)

20% of 100,000,000.00 = 20,000,000.00

& all income points below, in-between, & above

In earnest is equally honest, noble, & responsible.

ONLY those 400 who’ve perpetrated this fleecing would disagree with the logic of shared responsibility. They & their shills & muscle who’ve sold their souls to the Nothing. At this fair tax rate (& the eradication of war profiteering) America & its allies could be living in a world worthy of those young men & women of heart & misspent pride who’ve died in its wars, in its deceptions, & in its sea shanties…. The dollar would NOT be debased so the cost of living would be viable for all. BUT just the act of suggesting this (simplistically) earns me the rank of neo-Naïve in this hip & gratuitous American state of chaotic/fascistic Master & Servitude Gone Greed Insane/dogmatic. But I love you (bride). & I know that we have lived a good life (..worthy of our Americana..) The America that we Americans all have in the core of our more sanguine mind's eye..still lives. Even in the mind’s eyes of the progeny of the Lenape, Tsalagi, Lakota, Navajo, Duwamish, Mescalero Apache, Pueblo, Pequot, Creek, & all tribes in-between, because I’ve known a few & they too have true well-wishes for a life we all know to be doable (consciously). (Longwinded because the awareness of the fleecing-with-impunity is taxing to the point of dispiriting…& begs to be addressed by not just the undone like us but the greater minds among us resting on their laurels over red wine & oysters on the half shell engagement.)

witty rather itty bitty titty appreciative beside the tennis court vibe…

~ Bellicose Lampooners Unite (or The Waiting Undone) ~

In this GOoP State mess (inherited by the present tense; not made or intended, NO, NOT a chance, BUD): If a debtor has a 30,000 dollar credit limit on a card, per say, and they only put 500 or so on it a month & pay it down to zero-balance at the first of every month, that debtor is considered a “deadbeat” by the BOD of HolyBank, Inc. If that debtor runs up the same amount and more, paying only a portion & accruing revolving interest, THAT debtor is offered a higher limit & is gradually stung with increasing interest, but a “deadbeat” she/he is not. This is a truism of credit parlance; go figure. Your unmanaged indebtedness profits the few. Now there at the govmnt level this sort of debt-to-income mismanagement is being practiced abundantly and with impunity and [even more-so] under the guise of conservatism; i.e., Reagan, Bush, & BushII, BushIII, BushIV, Bush cousins, ad nauseam…jeez. & it’s funding the mass marketing that furthers the war machine & the monopoly disease and the basic fuck you (regime) I got mine (righteously) get yours (yeah, right, bourgeoisie) contrivance that is eating us alive as we sleep(walk). Eating us alive EVEN when we’re living the day with a note of sanguine & a full day’s plate to tackle on the way to the nightcap that we really live for. You go to jail or bankruptcy court for mismanagement of your debt ..while the pompous merely lobby for the right to profit off the backs of the public purse…& worse. & we argue amongst ourselves over the present economic stasis. It berates us…even though it isn’t real. Good people argue amongst themselves about nada. Chained to the frozen pole with I-don’t-know faces & disillusioned progeny to show for it. A million people with machine guns could make THAT change. Should make THAT change. Probably could mutiny much like Fletcher Christian & his merry pranksters did on that fine starved morn when even the good men had had it up to here. But no. We be civil. We be logical. We be too very aware of the facileness, the improbability, of armed & dangerous mob rule bespooled ‘round the tight ring fingers of sum duly sworn & threadworm-creepy tools of the deepest darkest trade secrets in human history, AND unbeknownst to census-god knowz how many batches o baby-cakes from untold bakeries with buns in ovens! ...& the tide’s comin’ in again. When? Then & THEN. Ascended upon us like Mommy Earth’s homemade high grade tsunami—literally could be spelled “pseunomy” metaphorically, as it keeps wiping the best laid plans of mice & men out for sake of ratfink men with dinner table allegory, knives (like stains) at the stuffing end of my ol’man’s long-gone roast turkey hopes & imagination station commemoration for sake of a wanabe noble furtherance felt in sidetone alleyways behind places like Walt’s Bar & Grill, or That’s the Rub Pub, ..or that (asylum for melodic sons of flower-power mamas & grunt papas) seedy li’l dive on main street that the long-hairs still like to call the Whiskey (a Go Go ...but fo-show it just ain’t the same no mo, bro! Nope).

"Yahoooo! Pooey-is-youee," oinked a fully grown-up Pampered baby-face sneer of blue(green)blood fangoria & noir backroom/bathroom stall handshake promises to rape & pillage legally–OH, the wherewithal being wielded again today! Even with rare cats like His Honorable ol’ Bernie S. pounding the hallowed pavement as we speak commonsense amongst our shaken but not yet aptly stirred selves…like Chia Pets on dusty unwaxed & cobwebbed bookshelves with onion greens growin out our sunbaked ceramic beans where once was dreams & goals attainable.) So it will take quasi-hippy Berkeley Bum lawyers (with machine gun allocution) who will NOT take NO for an answer—who will NOT try to be quite so civil (because the opposition is just simply so painstakingly ad hoggishly ruthless to a criminal fault). OR we can just kiss it all goodbye…and call it entropy’s due course …or the fulfillment of “the book” or just plain pitiful this man’s inhumanity to man scenario. Go to the waters’ edge, listen to your favorite new/old music, deep sip some spirits, rub your favorite belly-other-than-yours in the most sensual way you know how, and just watch the flow take us over the point of no return. But then what a pity. What a dawgone damnnable devolution of what shoulda-coulda-woulda been US. & it never had to be this way, Dave. Bankers grow a conscience or be gone! There isn’t even a piece on the Monopoly board for the banker. & Monopoly ALWAYS ends the same way: By putting the goddamned game away!! Benjamin Franklin turns a twisted circle in his grave with each & every new daze dawning. The great thinkers of our history had (an eye for young girls, okay and) a certain humanism of nobility. They couldn’t see themselves compromising their total soul existence for sake of greed alone. & so they framed an agreement with the middle that allowed for boat drinks & yacht clubs & 7 dollar game night at the stadium (& yeah they gave the bankers the right to f#ck ALL Americans silly via “mortgages” and they played house-of-cards with the game of bullet riddling 3rd world tribes & vicinity for fun & profit and they cloaked & daggered using talk show hosts to pop caps in certain beans to clear the fields of fire BUT they did it with a modicum of realization that a viable nation of people had a smoooth seventies vibe that kept the hive’s heartbeat alive …NOT THIS BRAVE NEW paradigm of fear & loathing gone day-by-day-uncertain beyond the shadow of a doubt that we’re all living on borrowed time…call someplace paradise and kiss it all goodbye).

I know there’re better things to write about, certainly. But if a lone beast is clapped in a claw-trap it only has a concentrated beating upon the contraption…or the gnawing off of its own limb...to focus on if it is to gain the freedom of viability again. Leukemia knocked this sailboat off its wind. But it is the money game of the monopolies (& trusts) that’s pelleting the hull nearly as fast as the patches can be applied. & WE are NOT alone in THIS. Even those in the hood who, by all outward appearances, seem to be financially fit, would not want you to take a good look at their TRW. Be honest with yourself. I know no one who isn’t sweating this day. & IT DOESN’T HAVE TO BE THIS WAY. Let your love-light shake you awake. AND let’s form a national legislative branch of elder statespersons with conscience. You know who you are & who you know. Make all the country’s best lampooners into a fighting force of bellicose legislators with good senses of humor (& I know my place in the mix: I will [GLADLY] stack the chairs, sweep & mop the floors, & toss the trash, after the jeremiad & minutiae are advanced).