The Pastor and Barack

It has been interesting to watch the unfolding story of Barack Obama and his pastor of 20 years, Jeremiah Wright. Here are two men doing their jobs and demonstrating that we are far from One Nation Under God. The story between the story shows us one Nation under Washington and a sound bite media. Every day we seem to demonstrate the grand stupidity of our civilization. We are overfed not just physically, but we are mentally burdened by meaningless business. Everybody wants to be hip and savvy and on the up and up of our culture. TV is the opium drip of information delivery, there is always something to watch, but it never seems to mean anything. And while everyone is up to date on everything, they seem incapable of reading between the lines. Maybe it's because people barely read anymore. They just scan the headlines, and have their heads stuck up the ass of headline news. Pastor Wright is, pardon the pun, an amazingly right on guy, judging from the things he says. The most right on things he says are often what he is most criticized for. We had 9/11 coming. Duh. But our media still resists any information which might threaten the status quo. God damn America for what it did to people of color. Duh. We deserve it. Action, reaction. If nothing changes, nothing changes. Right. I hope Obama is just being a politician when he distances himself from the Reverend Wright. We are a country pretty damn slow on the uptake, and we have religion partially to thank for our ignorance, because nowhere is the Glory of God more hidden than in the Bibles of the major religions. But the passion of men like Jeremiah Wright do demonstrate an experience of God, or divinity or something beyond what you hear on Fox News or CNN, or any of the political or cultural frontlines. That passion comes from love of people, I believe, the love of a shepherd for his flock. The media and our institutional government, on the other hand, have the salivating love of the Wolf for us. Unfortunately politicians are not spiritual shepherds. So Barack has to sacrifice the truth of his pastor in order to try and save this Country from itself. Change is what we need and I have great faith in Barack Obama, and he has little choice but to distance himself from Wright to help himself, and the rest of us, politically. We have to work within the system to change the system. The media is just another arm of our criminal government it seems. They spin for ratings, and to preserve the status quo, instead of reporting the real news, which is the truth and relevance of what Wright is saying. He is preaching a righteous message of unity among religions, the interconnectedness and oneness of the oft argued about identities of God, and he is telling the truth about what a sick, pyschotic, disconnected society we are. What will set us free? The truth maybe? Or maybe we should just stick to what we learn in our classrooms and on our televisions. We pledge allegiance to a flag without ever learning what it really represents. Isn't that a crime? Why is ignorance encouraged on TV? Maybe because it keeps us hungry and consuming? Institutionalized from birth are we Americans. One Nation under God, my ass. God is sitting on the world, but we are the ones crapping on it. I pray for the rise of leaders like Jeremiah Wright. People who spread a spiritual message are necessary. And we are desperate for political leaders like Barack Obama, who are capable of listening to fringe voices, and also leading from the center. May God Bless America, and help us pull our head out of our overstuffed ass.

The Yellow Brick Road

Hello out there in TV land. Is anybody listening? There is only emptiness and the void and endless possibilities. The lost culture of modernity is writhing in its own madness. Can you feel your mind about to explode? That is called too much information making you retarded. One man cannot know everything. And the way we are defining the universe is making us far too small. We are zooming in on things that are meaningless. Looking out too far in the universe with telescopes is no more revealing than zooming in too close with a microscope. Meaninglessness. There is nothing there but emptiness once you look close enough. It doesn’t mean anything. Why are we driving ourselves insane? Hello, hello. Come in Honolulu. The capsule is expanding. The noodle is dividing like the gyrating spiraling double helix. The snake, the snake, wrapped around the doctors cock. The caduceus. Little deuce coup. A bowl of chicken soup. Endless meaninglessness and Elohim. A hmm hmm hmm. Let me clear my throat. Is it me, or has language become meaningless? It might just be because I graduated from edumacollege with a degree in English. But this jumbled mass of letters we use for communication has trapped us all in the depths of over defined reality which is constantly proved wrong by inventions of the human brain. Or is it the divinity of God? Is there any separation from existence and the creator? It’s just this language. This big fucking tree of knowledge separating us from God, from ourselves. The mustard seed. The mustard seed. Where did that long haired Cross hanging Jew tell us to find God? Where were we supposed to look again? Was it not our own faith which healed us? What? AH. Get me out of here. Ground Control to Major Tom, there is something wrong in here. There is nothing wrong out there. We don’t need to fix anything but ourselves. Help, help, my Ozone is melting. I’m melting, I’m melting. Ding Dong the Witch is Dead. The Wicked Witch, the Witch is dead. That Witch sure used to scare me. The green witch. That scary bitch. Melted her with water, but could have just crushed her skull with a hammer. But for what? She was just a crazy old gal that liked to look into her crystal ball and play with a bunch of flying monkeys up in her dark castle surrounded by bad weather. Why did we have such a problem with that? Did anybody else want to live up there? Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself. We are the Wicked Witch. We are the Good Witch. The yellow brick road. There is a road all the way from Emerald City to the Wicked Witches castle. There is a man behind the curtain who would be a lot happier if he were fucking the Wicked Witch. The Witch is green. Why doesn’t she live in the Emerald City with the scared little man behind the curtain? Happy ending. Fine. Aloha.

Blogging Insanity

Well, I think a little side note is probably called for. This blog has really gone from being a bunch of stupid politics to being the damn processing machine for my alter -ego, the Silly Goose, the Fool on the hill, the middle of the night ranting maniac. This blog does not belong on yellowjumpsuits.com. It does not reflect the opinions of our happy management team, nor our philosophy on life. It may be the very opposite of what we think. It's just i'm a one man army right now. And i'm tired. And this idiotic blog of foolishness and ego and toad tossing and clawfaced petulance of a man who has read A Confederacy of Dunces one too many times. Therein lies the key to the universe. Find your claw and give it a voice. Jesse has Jesco, and I have the Goose. He's a nasty little friend. And his claw has the same face as I do. Come in Honolulu. Come in Honolulu. This blog is my claw. It is not me. I'll have it banished to oblivion as soon as I have the energy. Or maybe when I find myself a therapist that I can pay to rant at. For now, for those of you who suffer through my quest to find the me beneath the I that I think I am, and the I that you think I am. Who is the me at the bottom, the chief operating officer of Scott, the Goose, the whore of Siam? I'm working on it. Your man is hard at work.

goose control

Hi, my name is Andrew, and i'm an asshole. Born into the role as if the lord decreed. But I don't like being an asshole. This is a slight predicament. Does anyone deserve their plight in life? If one is born a pauper, destined to scrape through life, and maybe, in the end, starve to death, why? What about the rich? Or a nation of rich, like America, where many of our poor are fat, housed, and entertained? Ah the crap shoot of life and the meaninglessness of questions. Ignorance is bliss, so why ask the questions? Silly Goose, you fool, you idiotic, guilt ridden, republican turned insane liberal. Hello, hello, I seem to have forgotten my rationalization handbook. I don't feel entitled to anything that I have, and I have a lot. So shit. What am I to do? We'll discuss.

Who's the Goose?

The luckiest man in the world is the one with the saddest story. The strongest man on earth is the one who has been hurt the most. Try and kill this motherfucker, he was praying for death before he could even get a hard on. A broken man is a dangerous and beautiful thing, but not until he finds the key. For me, its been a grueling journey, and I don’t want to meet a man who is sadder. Pain can be dangerous when it meets itself in rage. Peace is preferable. See, love is the drug. All you need is love, love, and a broken heart. I come broken. I told a disappearing blond that recently. Bye bye. I think something amazing has happened. The darkest darkness leads to the void. Have to pick up the nothing matters chip before the dawn. Is it actually possible, even necessary, to love oneself more than the love of our lives, our chalice or our blade, ladies and gentlemen? My first love was a girl named Jennifer Pico. She was blond and I think I was in First Grade. The love that broke me was another Jennifer. A dark haired goddess holds my heart in a fortress on the moon. She is my defeater. But I emerge victorious. They say that if you love someone you should let them go. More importantly, secure your oxygen mask first. I never understood love thyself. I defined my whole reality on the reality of a lifetime of a crushed heart. Stupid. Do I finally love myself more than the love of my universe? The whole universe within us? Infinite love of self, infinite love for all our brothers and sisters, the human race, iwatchupa? But I won’t stop loving Jenn. I believe that my heart might stop beating if I did that. I just have to let her go. More tears. May the lord strike me down if I won’t go on loving her for as long as my body and my soul are together, and maybe beyond. Why not? My love for the people who have hurt me is my guiding light. Living in the pain of lost love has carried me through, and if it wasn’t for my broken heart, I never would have found the elusive God inside. Self-love, that’s the key. Only now do broken dreams roll off me like warm summer rain. Dreams are unnecessary in wakefulness. I just don’t care anymore. I want my #1 Jew to be happy. Wherever she is, whoever she is. Get the memo young lady. I don’t need you. I just love you. Unconditionally, like everybody else. I have a Jenn to thank. My favorite four letter word. She gave me a gift, and it’s a dandy. It works like this: live with a broken heart, live in the absence of your love and meditate on the fact that it will never happen, spend 10 years trying to convince yourself that you are crazy, that she does not want you, that you are alone, that you have always been alone, and are destined to be alone, to live in the absence of the greatest love you ever found. You live in that sadness. It convinces you that the pain of your broken family is fundamental. But the whole time, see, you love your friends, and your friends love you. Find love, and give it all away, as Mr. Derby said. Somewhere along the way, if you don’t kill yourself, or someone else first, if you can just keep weathering the pain, the sickness, the overwhelming darkness of the infinite void, you begin to love yourself. This begins to happen because you have given up on God, because you have given up on those around you, because you are empty. This is being already dead. God is whole and man is broken. To live in the lie that we are separate is breaking the heart of God. We are all the same eyes. I love you.

Spring is finally here, thank god. I felt it this morning when I let the dogs out in my boxer shorts and a tee shirt. It was warm at 8 am. I want to thank the group of Native Americans, mostly Utes, who blessed this valley on the twelfth of April, with their spirit and prayer and brought the sun back to us. If there is one thing this year has shown me, it’s that prayer works. Maybe praying to as many gods as possible is the key. I have no clue. All I know is that what has been done to this valley since we white folk took over is a blasphemy upon the mother earth. I’ve lived in this valley for much of my life, and the native spirit of this place has only grown stronger in my imagination, even while the spirit is crushed by a disgusting attitude of entitlement by the wealthy who have bought this valley up and are destroying the peace of the land with overdevelopment and mansions that are empty most of the time. There has been a curse on this place since we stole this valley. I’m one of us. It does not feel right. Aspen is a lie. This is not Aspen. It should not be called Aspen, because it isn’t Aspen. This is Ute City. The greedheads have had a plan for “Aspen” for a long time. They won. Even before the 1960’s, when this valley was full of wild spirit, where cowboys beat up hippies, and things made more sense, there was a plan to create a high end resort community. These planners succeeded, but at what expense? Every year it becomes harder and harder for workers to even afford to live here, but Aspen Ski Company manages to raise ticket prices on us anyway. Those who think they own this place, have desecrated it. Greedheads have no gratitude, only a sick sense of entitlement. Trust me, I was raised by them. Hunter Thompson had a pretty good idea of how to fix the Aspen problem, the high end stores, the ground floor real estate offices, etc. By just getting rid of this stupid Aspen name, this disgusting brand of over-consumption and self-entitlement, we could certainly make a dent. He thought Fat City USA an appropriate name. As a substitute for Aspen, Fat City is perfect. But this isn’t Aspen remember. This is holy ground. Native land, just like the rest of these Aspenized States. The owners of Ski Co should give it up and go back to where they make most of their money, the military industrial complex. People who own ski companies should be for peace, not be in the trade of weapons of mass destruction. Thank you to the group of Indians who came and gave us the gift of spring. This land is your land, and I was beginning to think that spring would never come. I feel sick and sad and I’m sorry in the name of all the white land rapers who have come before me. Aspen, we should be ashamed of ourselves. Why do “civilized” people have such a hard time understanding one simple rule: respect mother earth. Anyone for a revolution?

You never can pray enough. Lot's of love and blessings.

The Goose Wrangler

So last night this jewish girl named Jenn who should most definitely marry my friend Noah, decided that I'm an antisemitic. I find that funny considering the only thing I wanted the last 10 years was a certain jewish girl named Jenn. Thankfully I think it may be over now, and at the end of the day I find myself a fundamentalist in love with a blond. I'm a fundamentalist and I love jews. I can't help but say though, that as bad as I'd like to be in your little club, I'm fundamentally opposed to this idea of a chosen people. Hey Jews, do you guys ever wonder about the stupidity of organized religion? Do you guys ever feel like oppressed or something? Why is there always some group of people trying to kill you guys? Think it might be because you are the only religion which doesn't invite everyone in to the club. You guys wrote the fucking book man! God's Chosen. God created the fucking garden of eden for you guys and told you not to eat the apple of knowledge and not to leave the garden. But you dumb fucks had to leave. So God punishes you. Swallows up some of your innocent and rewards some greedy pricks. Sounds like ordinary reality to me. Do you really need a book to explain it to you? This goes for Christians and Muslims and all the other religions as well, especially the really stupid ones like the Latter Day Saints and the Scientologists; hey guys!! Get over yourselves for christs sake, I can't take any more of your bullshit fairy tale stories. Jews are actually my favorite religion. People stop hating jews. They are the best. Why? Because they leave you alone, they don't try to sell everyone on their fucking club of superstitions like the rest of you dumb false-god Salesman. Find God in the Wilderness, alone. That's where jesus found his father. Jesus Fucking Christ am I ever tired of the same old story. Jesus Christ. Duh. What is evolution Chuck? Get the fuck over yourselves. I Get UM. I found jesus, but there have been Christians in my way all this time. Back off assholes. There is only ONE GOD, you people are right about that. But you dumb fucking idiots it's the same fucking Goddamn God. Does that sound like blaspheme motherfuckers? It's not. God's voice speaks fucking angry and loud, I have heard his voice and he is pissed off! He gave me a message to give you. He said get over it assholes. You are no different than anybody else. You are the birds and the bees. You look like me. You are angels assholes. Start acting like it. If you don't start building Zion down there I am going to fucking kill you. OM NAM SHIVA! I'm an honorary Jew and you can ask my Noodle Soup or my attorney if you are not convinced. WELCOME TO THE HUMAN RACE BITCHES. What you believe doesn't make you any different than anyone else. Duh. You invent planes trains and automobiles but you still haven't figured out that you are all my children? That's what god says fools. Duh. Stop fucking killing each other. Obey the commandments. Fine. Everybody be a good Jew Goddammit. I'm tired of this shit.

update

OK. So here is where it stands this 7th of April in the year of our supposed lord 2008. We'll take into consideration that we really don't have a clue what's going on. We are somewhere near the edge of post-history; and won't that be fun. Who returns to the jungle before the plague will be set free. Listening to the Grateful Dead in the yellow store, just had a smoke and feeling tremendous. It's still snowing here in Aspen. This has been the craziest winter I can remember. I went to Hawaii for a month, came home, and it hasn't stopped snowing. Highlands Closing party was colorful and more snow. I left early but heard there was a bonfire, thank-god. I hope someone prayed for summer and thanked the snow-gods for this bountiful year. It snowed in Baghdad by god.

this guy gets it

Family Guy.

“Hi Andrew. I’m your dad.” That’s how my father greets me pretty much every time we talk, across the seas, in his thick Greek accent. If his English were a little more refined, he would say: “Andrew, this is your father.” But if he said it like that he would sound like a goofy Greek version of Darth Vader. Also, every time we talk he tells me to be careful. “Andrew. Be very careful in everything you do.” I’m a bastard child and live up to the name pretty frequently. It took me years to figure out that what my father was really trying to tell me was to wrap up my wiener so I don’t get some woman pregnant and end up with a kid that I won’t get to meet till he’s 16 years old and already a man. He was dishonest about my existence with his new wife and the children she bore him, and he paid for it, like we all pay for our lies. He has made reparations to his now ex-wife, and with his other children he is the most devoted, hard-working father I have ever seen. Even with me, he calls more regularly than anyone in the family who raised me. I’ve never seen a man so full of love and madness. The Greeks are a wild bunch, and my father is king of the crazies. He stalks the streets of Athens with sweaty pits. We have run together through the streets trying to get me my Citizenship. So it goes in Hellas, and I am my fathers’ son. God bless the Greeks and all Ubermensch. Aloha.