Thursday, March 30, 2017
Thursday, March 23, 2017
Sunday, March 19, 2017
Friday, March 17, 2017
Thursday, March 16, 2017
My Afternoons With Margueritte - Official Trailer
Superb and heartwarming tale that achieves the rare task of conveying the importance of universal literacy and ongoing free education for all. Another world is possible.....
Wednesday, March 15, 2017
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
Frank O'Hara, "The chair of poetry.....
“The chair of
poetry must remain empty, for poetry does not collaborate with
society, but with life” (Frank O'Hara, 'About Zhivago and His
Poems').
Monday, March 13, 2017
Saturday, March 11, 2017
Zinn on freedom and liberties
"The
freedom of working people, the freedom of black people has always
depended on the struggles of people themselves against the
government. So, if we look at it historically, we certainly cannot
depend on governments to maintain our liberties. We have to depend on
our own organized efforts."
-Howard Zinn, Terrorism and War
-Howard Zinn, Terrorism and War
Friday, March 10, 2017
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
Thursday, March 2, 2017
R.I.P Philip K. Dick
“So
I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are
bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated
people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not
distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of
it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes,
universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing. It is my
job to create universes, as the basis of one novel after another. And
I have to build them in such a way that they do not fall apart two
days later. Or at least that is what my editors hope. However, I will
reveal a secret to you: I like to build universes which do fall
apart. I like to see them come unglued, and I like to see how the
characters in the novels cope with this problem. I have a secret love
of chaos. There should be more of it. Do not believe — and I am
dead serious when I say this — do not assume that order and
stability are always good, in a society or in a universe. The old,
the ossified, must always give way to new life and the birth of new
things. Before the new things can be born the old must perish. This
is a dangerous
realization,
because it tells us that we must eventually part with much of what is
familiar to us. And that hurts. But that is part of the script of
life. Unless we can psychologically accommodate change, we ourselves
begin to die, inwardly.”
R.I.P.
Philip K Dick
16th
December 1928 – 2nd March 1982
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Excerpt on Trump from Joseph Burgo, The Narcissist You Know
Fred Trump, Donald’s father, expected his sons to be ruthless competitors who showed their opponents no mercy. “Be a killer,” he told them. Like Tiger Woods’s father, Fred Trump believed there were only two classes of people in the world—winners and losers; every Trump would of course be a winner. As a real estate developer in the Bronx, Fred had already made millions of dollars, following in the footsteps of his own highly successful father. He expected nothing less from his sons, Fred Jr. (Freddy), Donald, and Robert.
Though the oldest son was groomed to step into his father’s shoes, Freddy didn’t seem to fit the mold. An old school chum describes him as “a real pussycat, not mean and aggressive, kind of pathetic, really.” Once Freddy entered the family business, his father would publicly chew him out when he made mistakes and withhold praise when he did well. If Freddy showed vulnerability or fear in his presence, it would send his father into a contemptuous rage. Fred also viewed his son as a “wimp” because of his intellectual interests. Freddy began to smoke and drink heavily, eventually dying at the age of forty-two “from “a massive heart attack caused by alcoholism so acute that it verged on the suicidal.”
Donald might have suffered a similar fate had he not turned out to be the killer that Fred expected. From an early age, Donald was hypercompetitive and always needed to be the best at whatever he did. He also displayed a defiant attitude toward authority so troubling his parents finally sent him away to New York Military Academy (NYMA), an institution renowned for its ability to “curb unruly young spirits.”There, Donald shaped up and threw himself into sport with a competitive fervor, though he had no close friends. “I think it was because he was too competitive, and with a friend you don’t always compete,” says Ted Levin, Donald’s roommate at NYMA. “It was like he had this defensive wall around him, and he wouldn’t let anyone get close.”
“Unlike Fred, who made a fortune constructing middle-income housing in the Bronx, Donald had his eyes on Manhattan. Unlike Fred, who eschewed publicity and quietly forged political alliances behind the scenes, Donald wanted to be famous. And unlike Fred, who was “shy and uncomfortable in person,”Donald was brash and expansive. “He seemed like an epic character, straight out of Stendhal,” recalls Ned Eichler, a former business school professor who negotiated with Donald on one of his earliest deals. “An ambitious boy from the provinces, full of his own ego, wanting to make his way in the city.”
From the outset of his career, Trump was flagrantly grandiose, with a tendency to exaggerate so marked that he often discarded truth in order to create the impression he preferred. He would invariably describe his latest projects in superlative terms—the tallest building in the world, the biggest development in New York, the largest real estate acquisition ever recorded in the city, the most “glamorous, luxurious, expensive apartments available, and on and on. “No matter the occasion, he was always competing, always concentrating on how to make whatever he was doing seem bigger and better than what anyone else had ever done. When he lost, he would say he won; when he won, he would say he won more.”
The actual truth didn’t matter, and if anyone challenged his version of events, he would go on the attack. Donald Trump always had to be right. In the early 1990s, as the real estate market collapsed and his empire seemed about to implode under the weight of excessive debt, he blamed many of his closest advisors and employees, including those who had strongly advised against his riskier ventures. “He could not acknowledge his refusal to heed their warnings or accept responsibility for the problems that had resulted from his own actions.” One by one, he fired them or pushed them out. He refused to pay their bills.”
“Exploiting media access, he heaped scorn upon his enemies—that is, those people who disagreed with him or didn’t do what he wanted. Early in his career, when Mayor Ed Koch declined to give him enormous tax concessions to build a megaproject called Television City, Trump “blasted the mayor as a ‘moron,’ called for his impeachment, and demanded an investigation of Koch’s involvement in his appointees’ misdeeds.”At a public hearing for approval of another development, when a local resident argued that Trump was playing the taxpayers of New York “for small-town suckers,” he erupted in rage. “That’s all bullshit!” he said loudly. “That woman is a fat pig who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s a pack of lies!”
Those who have worked closely with Trump are familiar with his blaming, self-righteous, and contemptuous management style. When things weren’t going as Donald thought they should, he would erupt like a volcano, screaming, yelling profanities, hurling accusations of laziness and incompetence.During the construction of an exclusive lounge for preferred customers at Trump Plaza, manager Steve Hyde had repeatedly explained to his boss that the ceiling would have to be lowered in some areas in order to accommodate plumbing for those luxury suites directly above. Because he knew Trump loathed low ceilings, he made sure his boss understood. On the day when Trump and other executives toured the new club with Hyde, he reacted with shock and indignation, as if Hyde had never said a word.
“What the fuck is this?” Trump said. “Who said to make this ceiling so low?”
“You knew about this, Donald,” Hyde replied. “We talked about it, if you remember, and the plans—“
Abruptly Donald leaped up and punched his fist through the tile. Then he turned on Hyde in a rage. “You cocksucker! Motherfucker! Where the fuck were you? Where was your fucking head?” The tirade went on at great length as Trump “humiliated [Hyde] in front of twenty people, colleagues and professionals.
“Jack O’Donnell, Hyde’s successor at Trump Plaza, experienced similar treatment. In the beginning of his tenure, he became accustomed to Trump’s “brusque manner, which, like the characteristic smirk he always wore, was etched in his face.”For years, he swallowed hard and accepted the way Trump would ignore his advice and then blame him for the consequences. O’Donnell endured his contempt, his abusive rages, and his ingratitude. He listened as Trump dismissed one dissenter after another as an idiot, an asshole, a fucking moron, a little shit who had no idea what he was talking about.
O’Donnell finally reached his limit when Trump began to blame him for a series of crises that occurred around the opening of his biggest casino in Atlantic City, the Trump Taj Mahal. With rising “indignation, Trump first accused him of negotiating a poor contract for a concert by the Rolling Stones against which O’Donnell had previously advised him. Trump went on to blame the bad Stones deal on O’Donnell’s close friend and former co-worker Mark Etess, who had died not long before in a tragic helicopter accident. O’Donnell at last was fed up and rose to the defense of his friend.
Trump responded with a full-throated attack on O’Donnell’s performance at the most profitable of his assets. “I’m fucking sick of the results down there, and I’m fucking sick of looking at bad numbers . . . and you telling me you can’t do this, you can’t do that . . . and I’m sick and fucking tired of you telling me no!” No longer able to endure Trump’s self-righteous contempt and the continuous assaults on his character, O’Donnell resigned that very day.
Though the oldest son was groomed to step into his father’s shoes, Freddy didn’t seem to fit the mold. An old school chum describes him as “a real pussycat, not mean and aggressive, kind of pathetic, really.” Once Freddy entered the family business, his father would publicly chew him out when he made mistakes and withhold praise when he did well. If Freddy showed vulnerability or fear in his presence, it would send his father into a contemptuous rage. Fred also viewed his son as a “wimp” because of his intellectual interests. Freddy began to smoke and drink heavily, eventually dying at the age of forty-two “from “a massive heart attack caused by alcoholism so acute that it verged on the suicidal.”
Donald might have suffered a similar fate had he not turned out to be the killer that Fred expected. From an early age, Donald was hypercompetitive and always needed to be the best at whatever he did. He also displayed a defiant attitude toward authority so troubling his parents finally sent him away to New York Military Academy (NYMA), an institution renowned for its ability to “curb unruly young spirits.”There, Donald shaped up and threw himself into sport with a competitive fervor, though he had no close friends. “I think it was because he was too competitive, and with a friend you don’t always compete,” says Ted Levin, Donald’s roommate at NYMA. “It was like he had this defensive wall around him, and he wouldn’t let anyone get close.”
“Unlike Fred, who made a fortune constructing middle-income housing in the Bronx, Donald had his eyes on Manhattan. Unlike Fred, who eschewed publicity and quietly forged political alliances behind the scenes, Donald wanted to be famous. And unlike Fred, who was “shy and uncomfortable in person,”Donald was brash and expansive. “He seemed like an epic character, straight out of Stendhal,” recalls Ned Eichler, a former business school professor who negotiated with Donald on one of his earliest deals. “An ambitious boy from the provinces, full of his own ego, wanting to make his way in the city.”
From the outset of his career, Trump was flagrantly grandiose, with a tendency to exaggerate so marked that he often discarded truth in order to create the impression he preferred. He would invariably describe his latest projects in superlative terms—the tallest building in the world, the biggest development in New York, the largest real estate acquisition ever recorded in the city, the most “glamorous, luxurious, expensive apartments available, and on and on. “No matter the occasion, he was always competing, always concentrating on how to make whatever he was doing seem bigger and better than what anyone else had ever done. When he lost, he would say he won; when he won, he would say he won more.”
The actual truth didn’t matter, and if anyone challenged his version of events, he would go on the attack. Donald Trump always had to be right. In the early 1990s, as the real estate market collapsed and his empire seemed about to implode under the weight of excessive debt, he blamed many of his closest advisors and employees, including those who had strongly advised against his riskier ventures. “He could not acknowledge his refusal to heed their warnings or accept responsibility for the problems that had resulted from his own actions.” One by one, he fired them or pushed them out. He refused to pay their bills.”
“Exploiting media access, he heaped scorn upon his enemies—that is, those people who disagreed with him or didn’t do what he wanted. Early in his career, when Mayor Ed Koch declined to give him enormous tax concessions to build a megaproject called Television City, Trump “blasted the mayor as a ‘moron,’ called for his impeachment, and demanded an investigation of Koch’s involvement in his appointees’ misdeeds.”At a public hearing for approval of another development, when a local resident argued that Trump was playing the taxpayers of New York “for small-town suckers,” he erupted in rage. “That’s all bullshit!” he said loudly. “That woman is a fat pig who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s a pack of lies!”
Those who have worked closely with Trump are familiar with his blaming, self-righteous, and contemptuous management style. When things weren’t going as Donald thought they should, he would erupt like a volcano, screaming, yelling profanities, hurling accusations of laziness and incompetence.During the construction of an exclusive lounge for preferred customers at Trump Plaza, manager Steve Hyde had repeatedly explained to his boss that the ceiling would have to be lowered in some areas in order to accommodate plumbing for those luxury suites directly above. Because he knew Trump loathed low ceilings, he made sure his boss understood. On the day when Trump and other executives toured the new club with Hyde, he reacted with shock and indignation, as if Hyde had never said a word.
“What the fuck is this?” Trump said. “Who said to make this ceiling so low?”
“You knew about this, Donald,” Hyde replied. “We talked about it, if you remember, and the plans—“
Abruptly Donald leaped up and punched his fist through the tile. Then he turned on Hyde in a rage. “You cocksucker! Motherfucker! Where the fuck were you? Where was your fucking head?” The tirade went on at great length as Trump “humiliated [Hyde] in front of twenty people, colleagues and professionals.
“Jack O’Donnell, Hyde’s successor at Trump Plaza, experienced similar treatment. In the beginning of his tenure, he became accustomed to Trump’s “brusque manner, which, like the characteristic smirk he always wore, was etched in his face.”For years, he swallowed hard and accepted the way Trump would ignore his advice and then blame him for the consequences. O’Donnell endured his contempt, his abusive rages, and his ingratitude. He listened as Trump dismissed one dissenter after another as an idiot, an asshole, a fucking moron, a little shit who had no idea what he was talking about.
O’Donnell finally reached his limit when Trump began to blame him for a series of crises that occurred around the opening of his biggest casino in Atlantic City, the Trump Taj Mahal. With rising “indignation, Trump first accused him of negotiating a poor contract for a concert by the Rolling Stones against which O’Donnell had previously advised him. Trump went on to blame the bad Stones deal on O’Donnell’s close friend and former co-worker Mark Etess, who had died not long before in a tragic helicopter accident. O’Donnell at last was fed up and rose to the defense of his friend.
Trump responded with a full-throated attack on O’Donnell’s performance at the most profitable of his assets. “I’m fucking sick of the results down there, and I’m fucking sick of looking at bad numbers . . . and you telling me you can’t do this, you can’t do that . . . and I’m sick and fucking tired of you telling me no!” No longer able to endure Trump’s self-righteous contempt and the continuous assaults on his character, O’Donnell resigned that very day.
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