Bear’s Book Blog

I will be on the deck on in the driveway grilling out. Seems to me that this is the safest day of all. Why? Because the scriptures say that no man knows when the end is come, except the Father.

Still, it is a chuckalicious concept for me and more than a few small government proponents like myself. I am so stinking tired of Washington assholes stealing my money and then using it to buy votes with that I am sometimes beside myself. I mean, look at what Obama said to Joe the Plumber.

WHO THE HELL IS OBAMA TO TAKE MONEY FROM JOE AND GIVE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE?

Whatever. I am over it. I am looking at November 2010 for now. 2012 will have to wait.

…and yet, here I sit feeling a delicious involuntary thrill at the idea of not having to pay half my freakin’ paycheck to the government and running around scavenging for what is left of civilization. Most men with measurable levels of testosterone wonder from time to time what it would be like to be in the wilderness, building a butt and pass log cabin with his own hands, said hands growing in strength with every downed tree, and every notch cut… and no one @#$%ing with you every time you make a dollar. Why do we feel this way in the face of such a possible tragedy? Because, natcherly, we will be one of the survivors. What the world changers and the Progressives refuse to understand is that some of us would indeed rather be dead than Red, or enslaved to the likes of Obama, Reid, and Pelosi.

You and I both know the only way that will happen is if one of us is no longer around. Since I really don’t like paying taxes, I do because there is this thing called the IRS with a gun to my head, telling me I have to ‘voluntarily’ file, I vote for a world changing event. Yes, I would rather be free to do as I please rather than sure of three meals, especially because I am not assured of three meals with the draconian taxes we have to pay.

Check out this video set. Do I believe the world will end on December 21st, 2012? Nope. Not even a little bit, but the video is a lot more informative about ancient cultures and mathematical systems, or metamagical if you want to use a different term, than that silly movie with Cusack. Check it out and get your copy here.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

“Foreign films.” Now, there is a term that in the past has made my eyes glaze over and do a channel change to anything else available, up to and including whatever is listed on the ingredients of the soda I might be drinking or how long it is until Monday morning when I must return to school or work.

Foreign films means to me

1. boring
2. mind-crogglingly boring because the general European sensitivity about things makes me wonder if I really do have common ancestral heritage with them
3. chick flick to the point that there is so much estrogen leaking off the screen that you have to put your feet up on the seat back in front of you
4. PREACHY, generally making me feel like I am cursed simply because hey, I am a guy and I like red meat, American football sometimes, V-8 Detroit muscle cars, and my idea of gun control is being able to hit my target.
5. That I have specific tastes in the women I like – they want to be good moms, are good women and have good hearts; they are intelligent; they are petite and athletic; they are fiery and passionate; they are pretty, all these traits and in that order - makes me a misogynistic, sexist, beetle browed caveman who is incapable of seeing the joys of having a relationship with a sexless, androgynous, perpetually menopausal career woman who knows that motherhood is slavery and that children if you MUST have them, should be limited to no more than 2 and those 2 burdens on her time should be delegated to someone more suited to such distasteful duties and paid appropriately the minimum wage.
6. if only the whole world were gay, then perhaps the viral infection of humanity upon Gaea could be brought into remission
7. I am a complete bastard because I feel like I am entitled to keep and benefit from the fruits of my labors and ideas rather than willingly surrender said profits to those who have made it their mission in life to point out and eliminate those who choose my mission in life, i.e, family, faith, wealth, hopefully eternal life.
8. I did say boring, did I not? Even if I did, it bears repeating.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo shattered all those pre-conceptions of foreign European films and honestly, I don’t know what possessed me to watch it. I confused it with another film I have yet to finish watching and it was a blessed mistake.

While it does fall into the tired old beat on the Nazis, you find yourself only seeing that as a part of the story, not a tirade against the Racism that is specific to the evil white man. Besides, Nazis NEED to be beat on, when you can find one. I think most people forget that we killed most of them in World War II and so the Nazis never got a chance to carry out murder on the scale of the Communists as in Mao’s Cultural Revolution (100 million documented deaths) or Stalin’s purges (8 million Georgians, nearly an entire generation of Russian doctors.) Also, if you count the Socialists and Progressive’s war on the unborn that number is still rising. So, why do we beat on the Nazi’s? Here is why:

1. They were and are some evil bastards and deserve it
2. Too many American and International film makers are Communist, Socialist, and Progressive criminals themselves and so consider themselves above the law
3. As long as people are apeshit over Nazis they will ignore the inroads into our government that the Communists, Socialists, and Progressives are making in terms of treasonously taking away our rights as citizens and turning we Americans into subjects again.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo knows how to kick ass and what justified, righteous payback means and she does not spend time stupidly analyzing her navel over what effect it will have on he conscience or her humanity when confronted with what to do with a two legged rabid dog.

I know I will watch it again.

-Tim, 24th July 2010

When I was a kid, books tended to be my comfort food for some reason. Summer was not just a time to be free from the drudgery of the demands of folks who for the most part wound up as teachers because they wanted three months vacation every year and had the imaginations on par with a creek rock; it was a time when you could get lost in the library without time pressures and spend whole days under a fan mentally projecting yourself into all kinds of other worlds.

One of my favorites was Freckles. Simply put I saw myself as Freckles the protagonist and spent hours mooning over the Limberlost Angel, who in my mind bore a striking resemblance to a classmate named…

Freckles was at once the forlorn lowest point of any triangle socially but also possessed the character of a hero and, despite all his scars and, in his mind, unattractiveness, had some quality that his Limberlost Angel could not live without. It is not an overstatement to say that had a door opened into that world with me stepping into Freckles, you would not be reading this post and I would be looking back at you from the pages of a book and moving on to whatever future fictional characters must by definition move on to in our universe driven by probability and quantum mechanics.

Freckles is on my radar to read again and soon, for what number of times I could not tell you because I simply read and reread the book from somewhere around the 7th grade all the way through high school.

I find such stories comforting because it proves that even if humanity is not always divine, it is at least striving to attain divinity.

Back in the ’50s when Stranger in a Strange Land was first released, much of its content was considered unpublishable in that current social environment. I admit that while that is what the introduction said, having read half the book so far, I do not see exactly what they are referring to. Sadly, this could be because I am a creature of this culture today with its complete lack of mores and shame. Then again, it could be because I have only reached the halfway point.

So, having reached only the halfway point, your question is why am I commenting now on the book? It has become a bathroom book. You know the kind. It sits on a shelf in the bathroom and when you are in there for ten or so minutes you will knock out a page or ten. Boring is too simplistic a term and while unfair, it has to be applied to a book that you have no particular urge to finish. I will finish Stranger in a Strange Land if for no other reason than that I share Mike the Man from Mars’ inability to grok much of what passes for human intelligence. That determination is one of plodding, grim need to finish what I start, not a passion to see what happens (as in Rose Madder, The Stand) nor an infatuation with the leading lady (as in Freckles, Bag of Bones, or IT.) It is instead simply that I wish to finish that for which I pay.

Stranger in a Strange Land, unabridged edition is difficult to  call boring even while it is because it is an interesting book. An example would be its authors clear hostility towards organized religion of all kinds and ilks as embodied in its treatment of the Fosterites. I am uncomfortable with attacks on religions because I am a Christian and am outraged at the current societal attacks on all things Christian while being muslim gets you all kinds of special privileges. Then I look around at what laughably calls themselves religions of faith while they wallow in the heresies of social justice and collective salvation.

Perhaps that is the attraction to a Christian, conservative, capitalist libertarian such as myself to this book. Religions in general have become willing tools of the collectivist state in its battle to define rights as those belonging to groups, rather than individuals; they have joyfully become missionaries in the war to declare salvation to be not a function of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and a gift but instead as a reward for your willingness to throw yourselves on the altar of social justice and to live like paupers rather than enjoy the blessings God has bestowed on your labors yourself. Stranger in a Strange Land sheds some small amount of  light on the mercenary, nihilistic, cynical character of those men and women who lead such religions.

-Timothy Lynn Singleton 12:58AM, Sunday, 18th of July, 2010

Alas. According to dictionary.com, ‘alas’ is an interjection used as an exclamation to express sorrow, grief, pity, concern, or apprehension of evil.

This was my reaction when Stephen King, my erstwhile favorite author, whose moniker Constant Reader was seen by me as a badge of honor, quoted Mao’s Little Red Book somewhere in the first 50 pages or so as if The Little Red Book were simply another part of American literature and not the writings of one of the most murderous, most salacious, most morally and physically filthy pieces of insectile intelligence to ever stand upright and pretend to possess humanity.

I struggled the better part of the day on what to do because ‘Under The Dome’ was my Christmas treat to myself. I wanted to read the book and badly. The question on the floor was was I willing to pay for the privilege of hearing another celebrity sitting on many tens of millions of dollars procured through the wonders of capitalism tell me I should willingly surrender more of my check for the greater good.

No, I am not.

Mr. King, I am sincerely tired of your shit when it comes to politics. You sit up there in Maine, in your own words a Maine Yankee liberal, and you pontificate on the beauties of liberalism. Up until this last tome, which I am sure is as fine a read as all those before (except Eyes of the Dragon) you have pretty much kept your politics out of your books which was fine by me. I paid to be entertained and you are good at that. I will not pay to have some Communist insect quoted to me. I am done with you.

One more time, I thought, when I bought Under The Dome, one more time I will indulge in my favorite fantasy world created by the Talented and Ever Popular Mr. King. I have been laid off for ten weeks this year, leaving a hole in my finances that, though I was not entirely unprepared for, was no fun at all. I have given up watching the news, even the programs I agree with, because I cannot spend all my time worrying about what that bastard president we have now decides needs to be destroyed today.

Now, I cannot even read a damn fiction book without Communist bullshit being quoted at me.

As I struggled all day with what to do, mainly because I was trying to convince myself that the rational thing to do was to read the thing and report on it. It was paid for after all and I probably could not return it for a refund. Two hours of wrestling with that thought and I was on the road to Books-A-Million to ask for a refund. Even though I did not have my receipt, they were good enough to look it up on my discount card and refund it to my card. Some will say I should have finished the book before returning it, but that would have been tantamount to stealing. I returned Under The Dome for the same reason I sent Mr. King my dollar when I downloaded that electronic book whose name I cannot recall.

I encourage you to do the same and remind Mr. King that while 50% and higher tax rates and healthcare rationing may not impact HIS lifestyle with the rate at which money flows into his account, it does affect Constant Reader’s finances and badly.

I just got back from seeing The Fourth Kind.

The creep factor is complete for several reasons, not the least of which is the premise that it is based on completely real events and that much of the video tape is real.

Do NOT take your children to see this movie. I am not trying to be cute, nor to lead you to see the movie. I am saying do not do it. The Fourth Kind is an excellent movie, but I do not suggest taking young kids to see it nor suggesting that those who are susceptible or have emotional problems or a history of such should go see this film.

Don’t believe I am serious? Not once during the film did I have an inclination to think how hot Milla was. Yeah, I thought that might do it.

Christians will know what they are viewing on screen, and it has nothing to do with aliens.

-Tim

I am Legend

The author of “I Am Legend,” Richard Matheson, makes me know that I do not know all there is to know about great authors. I have never heard of the man until I got to inquiring about the movie starring Will Smith. I was told it was a remake of an old Charleton Heston movie by the name of “The Omega man” which came as no real surprise to me. Hollywood is sucking wind on truly new creative ideas these days, due no doubt to their obsession with telling normal Americans how stupid they are to want to run their own lives, keep the money for which they work, or burn their own oil while we move to true energy independence using alternative fuels while they lollygag around in 20 million dollar mansions, staying drunk and high, and spewing kids out of wedlock like it is just blowing their nose. The only difference between the Hollywood elite and a homeless wino population is the luck of the draw in making money for being able to stay clearheaded long enough to act. I admire Will Smith for being an example to ALL, not just to African-Americans in the way he conducts himself.

I just cannot help it. Don’t let my seething aggravation right now with having no real choice for president nor the fact that the average voter in this country is an uneducated moron distract you from these fine works.

The gem in the book, ‘I Am Legend” is surprisingly not just the marquee title, but a short story in the back called, “Mad House.” I must confess the story shook me to the bone because I realized, I saw and recognized, some of that anger in myself. Get the book here. There is a vast difference between the book and the movie, so see the movie first. It is also available in blu-ray if you want that format.

Well, Stephen King got me in this one. He had me mad as hell concerning some of his characters positions on a few things. When Lisey unloaded the gun as they waited on the king of the Incucks I got so aggravated at this irrational fear of a device designed to save and defend life (or feed it in a hunting role) that I had to put the book down and walk away for a while. I have to congratulate him because this is his genius, being able to gradually suck you into that area of suspended disbelief in your mind where you are actually in the story, relating emotionally to the characters.

I also find myself wondering to what degree this story opens a window into his mind. I have made no secret about my admiration for the writer and the man and my understanding as to why he holds certain public positions, but I find myself continuing to pony up the money for his fiction and works when others on his side of the political aisle receive no business from me. Why?

Because the man’s story’s are worth it. The idea of alternate ‘wheres,’ no matter what monsters may ride there is a fantasy, a wish, an idea that gets me through the days and makes my evenings more bearable. As this planet increasingly is covered and oppressed by a layer of regulation, control, and oppression by governments and multinationals, the idea that someone can WISH or BELIEVE themselves into somewhere else…Booya Moon, or the Territories, or a great desert where wizards flee the righteous wrath of Peacemaker packing paladins is of great comfort.

Any night now, perhaps I will go to sleep and wake up in Booya Moon.

I mean, it could happen. I myself as a kid remember on many occasions waking up from a place where I had a sweetheart and spiders roamed the hills sometimes cutting off highways and trees only grew near streams or large bodies of water because they always were full of jokes and well, laughter on wooden vocal cords can be problematic in arid areas…  You have to understand that those dreams were so powerful that even today I wonder if she is real somewhere and it is just bad luck we never hooked up. These dreams are incorporated into my own work, “My Heart, My Fate.”

“Lisey’s Story” is a good read and I recommend it highly.

Thomas Sowell is an African-American political commentator who scares the hell out of me on Barack Hussein Obama. As to those who think I should not say his middle name, piss off. I do not care that I offend you. Obama is a politician, not God the Father that I should not speak his name out loud. What is wrong with you people? Besides, he is the one to first emphasize it in public, NOT his political opponents.

Prof. Sowell has some good words for aspiring writers and I recommend them to you for your consideration. I urge you to check him and his ideas out. I know I plan to learn more about him and his writings.

Mob, Messiahs, and Markets: This is a must read for EVERYONE, whether you are a Communist or a Conservative, a liberal or a Libertarian, you need to read this book. If you do not read another book this year on business and politics I must insist, to the extent that I can, this be the one book you read.

“Lisey’s Story” by Stephen King. Well, while I am finally getting into the story, little Stevie’s continued hammering of the Southern dialect is beginning to wear a bit thin. While I realize Mr. King has clearly had some bad experiences in his life, I cannot imagine what has traumatized him so with regards to his Southern readers since so many of us hold him in very high regard. I suspect he would be surprised to find that many Southerners share many of his beliefs. Then again, maybe I am just feeling pissy that John McCain, a wannabe Democrat is the apparent Republican candidate. Congrats, Mr. King, win or lose, YOU get someone who agrees with your politics, LOL. Cannot give a complete review yet, only that it is my current reading project. Like many of his works, it takes a good 150 pages or so for me to become immersed in the characters. Lisey IS beginning to connect, though, since I have so many dysfunctional crazies in my own family, I can relate to dealing with Manda…

I continue to struggle with “The Intelligent Investor.” It is dry, but the two minds (the one that wrote it and the one that benefitted from it so) make it worth bearing down and chewing through it. Learning to read a company’s balance sheets at night while studying for my CCNP and MCSE while doing my own rewrite/edit…hell, it is exhausting to even write it here. Still, my choices are 1) rely on Social Security and my literary idol’s Congressional friends to take care of me in my old age or 2) don’t sleep and manage to tear from this economy a decent asset base in spite of their best efforts to give it away to every SOB on the planet. The key, I am finding out, is to do without and treat your money the way the rich treat theirs and wait for the payoff.