Mail Server Woes…

Having setup a half dozen beefy mailservers in my time, I’ve come to the same conclusion as most… why does it have to be so complicated?

Here’s a simple recipe that’s served me well:

Dovecot (IMAP / POP3),
Spamassassin + Spamass-Milter
Clam-Antivirus (Clamd + Clamav-Milter)

Problem? Lack of (human-readable / common-sense) documentation. Sure, the manpages and docs are thorough and well thought out, but they in no way are meant to be read as part of a greater whole. It is as if each project believes it operates on an island. One of the most common mailserver deployments (the recipe, above) has about as much cogent support (publicly available [posted on the internet], documented, common-sense guides) as the secret formula for Coca-Cola.

Here’s a great article I found today, and it’s helping to confirm some of my suspicions. What’s that they say about the Carpenter’s wife? He’s been at it 30 years and she’s still waiting on HER kitchen. I’ve been leaving this on the back burner for too long… time to clean up my own mailserver.


Posted in SC-Specific, Science and Technology | Comments Off

Plex… techno-racist against Android Phones ?

Plex is a hell of an application. As a home, multi-home, or organizational media and content server, it is outstanding. The free integration apps for Roku’s, Firesticks, and similar devices, as well as the ability to use pretty much any modern web-browser as a client, makes it an extremely well integrated app. As of this writing, the only part of it that isn’t free (as in beer) is the phone-apps. You may have to look and hunt, but free ‘everything’ is out there – free server app, client apps, etc. Even the Roku app is free (as is Firestick). But not phones… ok, fine. No sweat. Well, mid February 2018, that phone app suddenly took a massive header off a cliff. Android devices across the world started experiencing issues – seemingly as a result of some auto-update feature, and the tweaks that went along with it.

The Plex phone client would attempt play a video and then choke.

You’d be greeted with the error message “Please try restarting both the Plex media server and this app.”

Don’t – it won’t work. And you’ll just waste time. The problem is in the phone client.

Forum users over on the Plex side identified it as early as February 9th (2018), and had this to post…

@Motlem said: If you go into the app and turn the setting for “Play Smaller Video” on, it will make this issue stop. I believe it is an error that needs to be resolved in an update.


In short, that is the work-around. Go to your settings, click on advanced player settings, and below where you are given the option to choke down your video speed (KBPS), there’s a tab for “play smaller videos as the smaller size” (in effect, don’t transcode). Turn it on – problem goes away.

Because the phone app is a “pay” product, I can actually say this — “Dear Plex, FIX IT!”

In all seriousness though, Plex is truly the best of the best when it comes to streaming content servers. A modest (50 MBPS bi-directional) server can easily feed a dozen clients simultaneously at the 720P setting. Sadly, speed control is on the client side, not the server side, so if you have lazy or uncaring users, they can choke that pipe up pretty quickly.

Posted in Science and Technology | Comments Off

My Wife and Kids…

My wife is an unwavering pillar of integrity.  My kids are the gift she’s given me for the past 2 years.  It’s not all pretty – on a daily basis, I threaten to kill at least 2 of the 3.  While there’s not a fixed or regular rotation of who exactly is going under the sword on any given day, the field does cycle around.

Tonight, I get to yell at our Unicorn, Sierra, which is good times, because it bores the hell out of her. Hashtag “LOCK THE DOOR IF YOU’RE THE LAST ONE LEAVING THE HOUSE!!!” … burned, so burned.

Alex karate chops me before going to bed each night – I think that’s Ninja speak … love you too, dude.

Colin is a son any man would be lucky to have.  And he has also, personally, put me into fits of rage so thorough and complete that I’ll likely lose a good 30 years off my life-span.

And my wife is an unwavering pillar of integrity, but I already told you that.  We do alright.  We quibble, and we cuddle.  We debate, and we celebrate.  I’d like to think we live and love, in many ways, as though “somebody left the gate open”.

We’ve just welcomed our newest son to the family – Michael.  And while she or I try to find the appropriate answer to the half dozen polite but clueless hospital staff who ask, “is this your first [child]?”, I debate the effectiveness of a T-shirt that says, “My first baby, not my first kid.”

My daughter showed me how to pirate tv-shows only minutes after they’ve aired.  My middle son makes the best goddman Mac-N-Cheese you’ve ever tasked.  And my eldest boy, he built The Warrior with me (my ’93 Dodge pickup truck).  I’m not sure what the future holds for my youngest, but I’m sure it will involve a lot of mistakes on my end, a lot of patience on my wife’s part, a hundred thousand miles of prayers, and a lotta love.

For my wife and kids…

Direct download available here … fare_thee_well_20160610

Posted in Semi-Witty Banter | Comments Off

Pentium Slayer 3 Lives

Kingston Technologies.  Remember that name.

On with the tirade…

Sometime in mid-December of 2013, a remote tap concept was put together.  Specifically, your benevolent dictator moved, and since the new place does not have access to a fibre feed, the decision was made to leave the always trustworthy Pentium Slayer 1 (and his smaller, backup-tasked brother [Pentium Slayer 2]), tied to the inter-webs by a robust 35 Megabit fibre uplink.  This necessitated a manner by which the new place could “talk” to the old place and network seamlessly, as if tied together by one big network cable.

Several nights in a dimly lit room, fueled by Cherry Coke, Mamma’s cooking, and several packs of KOOL’s, our hero did devise a plan.  This consisted of a OpenVPN UDP tunnel with 4096 secure keys, UPNP multiverse deployment, SQUID, some rSync magic, and (of course) the hardware… the new place would get a “baby rack”, a 15 slot rolling rack fed by two 2,500 kVA circuits.  LSI MegaRaid behind Western Digital RE-4 operating system drives, married to a near bleeding edge SuperMicro board and (the proverbial icing) a unmolested AMD Piledriver (the technological ‘son’ of the AMD Bulldozers which power Pentiumslayer 1).  What would we name this FLOP-chewing beast?  …

Initial build went well.  Commissioning encountered the usual hiccups, but was (of course) successful.  4 months later, the weak link exposed itself.  Repeated interrupt errors and generally ugly OS subsystem vomit all over the TTY’s was the result of at least 1 (if not 2) failed DDR3 sticks from (you guessed it) Kingston Technologies.  At $233 USD per stick (circa December 2014), this was not “budget” RAM by any means — it’s high performance near-line grade server memory for enterprise deployment.  Whilst the first two sticks were out for repair, running the system with only the remaining 2 sticks (not-ideal but still technically within specifications), at least 1 of the remaining sticks failed.  Isn’t that just depressing?

Luckily, next day air really does mean “Next Damn Day” – and the UPS man delivered my salvation post-haste.  So, after about 20 years in this tinkering game, I can offer you this advice… I never found a Kingston product that I liked.  Somehow, they’ve maintained a certain respect in the IT world, and it was that PERCEPTION which lead me to reassess my past feelings and give them another chance.  Sadly, I’ve found out what I knew all along, which is that I am almost never wrong.  Scarface said, “I always tell the truth, even when I lie.”  So say goodnite to the bad guy, and don’t buy something that you don’t trust.

If you’re wondering what we prefer for memory…(in order of preference)

– Crucial

– G.Skill (a company that came out of nowhere a few years ago, and while they ‘look’ cheap, whoever is making their sticks has done a great job.

And the not-so-goods…

– Corsair (8 failures out of 8 sticks circa 20010)

– Kingston (greater than 50% failure over 20 years mixed duty)


Posted in Science and Technology | Comments Off

Banana Pancakes and Thoughts on Life

You wouldn’t think it to be a moment of gravity, but it was.   In a South Buffalo Denny’s – – I find myself questioning what it is I’m doing with my life.

As a society, we look back to our known archetypes for assurance of what is and is not ‘right’, for clues to make sense of our current lot and for forming our future decisions.  Being an indignant bastard doesn’t change that.  With a hundred points of useless minutia rattling around in my head, I was perturbed by an overwhelming desire for ‘Zesty Nachos’ because I just wasn’t ‘feeling it’ that night.  Nothing else seemed to peak my interest, and menu item after menu item simply increased my lust for ‘Zesty Nachos’, which my 11-30 PM stomach (uncharacteristically) did not want to handle.  A few minutes later, I scroll back through breakfast items and come across ‘Banana Pecan Pancakes’ and, as if I had found the formula for turning iron ore into gold, I blurted out “banana fuckin’ pancakes!“.

Impressed with my finding, but unwilling to admit that I had discovered it first, my fiance responded that she too had seen them but was wishy-washy on the decision.  A guarded conversation ensued, and an amicable truce was arrived at.  She would get them if I got them, and I would get them if she got them.  Very dignified and mature of us, if I do say so.


Image copyright 2014 –

Whilst mocking her choice of ‘death on a plate‘ original bacon versus ‘I’m going to live forever‘ turkey-bacon, I was reminded of my archetypes.  For 30 years, I watched my grandfather say “whatever she’s having”, and always thought he was just being efficient (not that there’s anything wrong with efficiency).  After a couple serious relationships, and countless whose names I didn’t remember at the time, let alone now, I can honestly say that I’ve never ordered the same thing as my counterpart – until now.

Maybe we’re just getting that comfortable and boring around each other.  Maybe we’re becoming efficient.  Or maybe this is how it’s supposed to be; un-forced, organic, and natural.  It sounds better on paper than in reality, but that’s alright.

In short, my advice to you (whomever you random people are that may read this article) is to just enjoy your time with your ‘someone’.  You spend most of your life working, swindling, trying to get ahead, and running 500 different errands.  Take some time, or make some time if you have to.  … and get a stack of those pancakes, they’re really good (really, really good).

Posted in Semi-Witty Banter | Comments Off

Vincent Frank Spinelli: September 3, 1926 – July 8, 2013


I find myself with little to say, which is such a disservice to such a good man.  Although, clarity comes from the fact that he lived a life that needed no explanation.  A plain, honest, simple yet intelligent, humble yet strong, and tremendously inspiring man has made the world a poorer place by his departure.

We love you; we miss you already.


Posted in SC-Specific, Society and Darwinism | Comments Off

Some of the best people…

Sometimes, you’ve got to move on to move forward.  Bittersweet, but necessary.

That said, to all my friends (and I use that word intentionally – so many of you have become my friends) at LAG, I leave you with the following:

You are, by far, the brightest, most driven, and some of the hardest working people that I have ever met.  You inspire me.  I am proud – absolutely and wholly proud – to have had the privilege of working with you for so long.

Good skilled tradesmen are hard to come by; it is not often that so many are gathered in one place.

… and good bosses are hard to come by; it’s been nothing short of an honor to work for my most recent one.

If I’ve impressed anything on you, I hope it is this: do not compromise what you feel is right.  Your opinion is the one that matters most.  When you believe in yourself and those around you, then you can accomplish great and wonderful things.

You can breathe life into machines.  In that way, and only in that way, can you have a tiny glimpse at what it is to be God – to give life to that which was nothing before you put your back into it.

Keep up the good work,
- Vince

Posted in SC-Specific | Comments Off

Theresa Anne Delgatto Spinelli: November 27, 1929 – May 19, 2013

Who Cares if it’s Raining

- Vincent Frank Spinelli II


In loving memory,

Theresa Anne Delgatto Spinelli

November 27, 1929 – May 19, 2013

Wife, Mother, Matriarch

When Mamma prayed, good things happened – people changed.

Not much more than five foot tall, but mountains big and small crumbled all away when Mamma prayed for you.


I. There isn’t much to say.

It’s half past midnight, and we’ve been sitting together like this – on and off – for about a month. This is the time when family and friends are supposed to spring forth bearing best wishes and sympathies. This is when I am supposed to kneel at your side, express my inner most love and beg for forgiveness – that peace may find us both through the gesture. My mother – your daughter – should be weeping on your arm, and I should be humbled by the sight.

You would have none of that. … so I’ll put pen to paper in a futile effort to encapsulate within words the sum total content, value, and legacy of a life.

II. Who cares if it’s raining?

Twenty-someting years ago, we were sitting in the back of a twilight blue Dodge truck – camping out. The old man was standing in the rain, fully equipped with slicker and trucker cap, attempting to light a Coleman grille so he could boil water for coffee. I’m pretty sure he got it going; he was good with that type of thing. It takes patience, a lot of patience and a soft hand. Soft in intent and motion, because a belt sander and all the finishing glaze on earth wouldn’t have erased the scars and callouses he collected through the previous 50 weeks of the year. To your credit, you pretended they were made of the softest velvet when he would touch your cheek to kiss you. Then again, maybe – to you – they were.

We were on vacation – at Cedar Point. … a water park, go karts, mini-golf, full amusement park, and campground. My pre-teen mind was a blur with a countless number of different scenarios for exploiting the awesome power that lay before me. At least that’s how I felt before waking up that morning. You were already putting on makeup, which is a feat in and of itself. A ‘robust’ Italian woman managing to do her hair and makeup in the back of a pickup truck is something that everyone should witness at least once in their life.

But it was raining. It was pouring, in fact – a torrential downpour of the likes I had never seen, or at least it felt that way. Maybe this was penance for the shoddy mix-tapes I forced you to listen to while on the road. Did God hate Kriss Kross too?

As I went on lamenting the loss of vacation to the tyrant storm, you looked at me as if I had three heads. “What’s the matter with you?”, you barked; suddenly you made it my fault. What’s the matter with me – me? I didn’t make the storm clouds, the rain, or the park’s insurance regulations regarding operation of large electric powered rides during rainstorms. So where did you get off putting this on me?

“You got shoes on your feet, right?” – yes.

“You have food in your stomach?” – as I shoveled down another Swiss roll the old man had procured during his adventure to the campground general store.

“And you don’t have to go to school, everyone’s here, and everyone’s healthy. What more do you want?”

At the time, I didn’t see the wisdom or the heartfelt truth conveyed during that very simple conversation. You had to put a rain slicker on me and coax me into the park that day. While you probably took some pleasure in observing, several hours later, that you were right – that we had a great time – you didn’t see the idea you had planted grow until a good 10 years or so later.

I know; we already had this conversation, but maybe someone else can learn from it. I won’t spell it out for them. You didn’t spell it out for me – it’s something that a person just needs to ‘get’.

III. Just one third.

That’s all I’ve known you for: one third of your life. Our relationship is not unique. You shared similar ties with your siblings, your daughter, and your son. I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of your impact on my world, and you were already 50 when it started. Rode hard and left with nothing in reserve – you had to know that would be your fate if you were going to take on raising another child from scratch at that age. You’re smart; you knew. … you just didn’t care, and I am so very grateful for that. Barring catastrophe, most people are blessed with a far longer time to know their parents. I’ll take what we have, thank you very much – those were your retirement years. Those were your ‘tour the world’, ‘winter in Florida’, carefree years. I’m honored that you felt me worthy of that sacrifice.

IV. I don’t need anything.

You’ve inspired us to carry out our lives in a manner that scoffs at the idea of regret. Many parents tell their children, “Don’t do something you’ll regret later.” I’m actually not sure if you ever even used those words. You lead by example; even now, your suffering is an example. It sets a standard for responsibility and loyalty that I can only hope to one day come close to emulating. A life spent leading, providing, loving, and guiding; it is no surprise that I never knew what to get for you on holidays.

“I don’t need anything”, that’s what you would say to me. “Write me a card”, you would offer in protest. As if ‘buying’ a card was even too much – just scribble something together on a Post-It Note, and you would’ve been happy as a pig in slop. The price tag on your shoes and the number of nick-nacks in your cupboard never meant anything to you.

I understood that – after a while. We all understood it. It is not by accident that there was never a question as to what would become of your husband after his debilitating stroke. You protested, insisting that it was too much work, and that I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. There was no arguing with me. Yet, because of that decision, he has enjoyed a quality of life that is far greater and more fulfilling than he could anywhere else. And his presence; his presence inspires me daily. He remains, to this day, the object of your affection – and my personal hero. After 3 years – 3 years that you fought to give to us, long after all that you had committed to was accomplished – when you could fight no longer, he sat next to me and held your hand for nearly 14 hours. He summoned whatever fragments of his soul and sanity remain to honor you, and to grieve in what capacity he is capable of. “Mama’s sick.” – it radiates through my memory even now, as he wept for you. I am made whole by having been able to help him reach this point, to be able to fulfill his duty as a husband.

You made him strong and filled him with happiness. He tempered your mettle and made you compassionate.

V. I love you.

And you loved me. Love can do amazing things, crazy things. It brought us all back together when there should have been no forgiveness. It gave you the strength to throw me out, and the humility to let me return with my dignity. It gave you the resolve to see me through a time when I thought there was no recovery. But, my God, were you ever proud when I graduated. Your father and your beloved husband spent their lives at the mercy of one of the world’s largest steel plants. You were grateful for the opportunities that employment offered your family – both as a child and as a a married woman. But you would be damned if that fate were to befall your children, of which you counted me as one. It was your hope that I be able to determine my own fate, decide who I did or didn’t want to work for, and to enjoy the freedom of choice that your generation had only dreamed of.

The last conversation we had – it was choppy, broken, and I was going on with a monologue in a generally pessimistic tone. You cut me off and made yourself very clear. “I love you. I love your mother. Stop talking bad about yourself. And stop taking shit from people.” Those may very well have been the last words you uttered in this life.

It has etched an image in my mind – there’s a picture outside your bedroom of you holding me as a baby… and the look on your face. These are the bookends of our relationship, your compassion and your unrelenting will. In that, and for much more, I find you so very beautiful.

VI. Last lesson.

That’s it; that’s all I have to say to you. No regrets. No worries. There are things I’m sorry for, but you already know that. We are kinetic – fluid – in our relationship, and it works. We hid nothing from each other. You’ve lead with a grace, purpose, and foresight that has made me everything that I am today.

Now, Ive been at this for over 4 hours, and I am no closer to doing justice to all that you mean to us. I just hope that someone, somewhere – not for me, not for us, but for humanity – that someone understands when I ask…

So, honestly, who cares if it’s raining?



Posted in SC-Specific, Society and Darwinism | Comments Off

My Viewmaster…

I look at what’s in my Viewmaster. Remember those things; they came complete with a free A-Team or Smurfs wheel cartridge depending on your age range. I’m sure there was a My Little Pony as well. Well it seems that all I’m capable of is walking around with one on strapped to my face like the fella with the caged rat from 1984.

Maybe that’s more a matter of perspective than reality, but perspective is what moves mountains and determines the course of history.

That’s it – that’s the problem: a complete and total loss of perspective.

It’s 2013, and I’ve somehow been dubbed a Liberal Utopian Homosexual enemy of the (American) Constitution and Christianity. As we’ve discussed, that’s just a perspective – but a non-unique one that is held by many. How the ____ does this happen? It’s not like I’m walking around with a gas mask on my face and a swastika on my jacket, proclaiming the benefits of government control, partial birth abortions, or sexual deviancy in the promotion of a welfare state and submission to my imperial rule.

While George Takei’s Facebook page is among my primary reading material, I take it for what it’s worth, not as gospel. Then again, the Gospels should be taken for what they’re worth and not as gospel. The perversion of a thing (in this case religion) by miring it in it’s original form – verbatim, without any context – is an abomination to that which it represents (in this case God), as well as those that espouse it.

If anything, I hold a belief akin to that described in Isaiah 12:2

God is my salvation. I will trust and not be afraid, for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.

I always put it, in my own words, as “God is your shield, to protect and save yourself and those you care for. God, nor the Bible (or any other religious text), are your sword to strike down those you see unfit or who do not comply with what you think is ‘right’.”

This is, apparently, an unpopular opinion, and it makes me (unknowingly and unwillingly) and enemy of Christianity. I was unaware until recently that Isaiah was written by a prophet (obviously of the same name or some variation of that) around 700 BC, living in the nation of Judah, during a time when it had become commonplace to proclaim the niceties of faith in public, offer trifle sacrifice, but live by no code, no standard, no set of values whatsoever. Imagine Pirates of the Caribbean, but without the ‘Pirate Code’.

This article is motivated by the pending demise of my Grandmother. This is a woman at whom I’ve been at odds for my entire life. I can name the things which we hold in agreement on one hand… the internet isn’t large enough to hold the list of things we do not agree on. However, it’s a non-issue. The intent is what mattered. And that’s what lead me to write this article.

Life is about the choices we make. Faith or no faith – everyone starts out clean. And we ultimately become something that is a result of what we choose, in those instances when we have the ability to choose. My relationship with my Grandmother is a sound and solid one, although on the surface it would likely appear to be quite the opposite.

Not a day went by that we didn’t debate something, many times culminating in a thorough “Fuck you” – which was responded to with a fervent, “Hah, then fuck you too!” It was a crap shoot as to who went first… Ten minutes later, I would be cleaning up and hustling out the door to school or work or wherever, and one of us would always catch the other for a hug, a kiss, and an honest “Hey, I love you – see you in the morning.” We have become masters of free thinking, upholding our convictions, but doing so whilst never losing sight of our common love and respect for each other.

I have no regrets for this. If anyone else had spoken to her in this manner, they would be picking their teeth out of my first. … and I don’t apologize for saying that either. It was the intent that mattered – it was the choices that mattered.

She made choices and took actions throughout her life that intimidate if not scare lesser people. Here’s some choices she made…

- What do I care about the gays? They’re not taking food out of my mouth – let them get married. They should get married. It’s wrong how we [as a society] treat them. You don’t think that if they could live any other way that they wouldn’t? You think it’s easy to live like that [under ridicule]? They’re not hurting me.

- So he’s black, so what? What did he ever do to you? Nothing – get over it. You don’t want to like him, fine, that’s your own ignorance. But when you treat him like shit it degrades not only him but yourself. It’s showing how stupid you are.

- I don’t care what my neighbors have. They can have a nicer lawn, a nicer fence, a nicer roof – nicer everything. It has no affect on me. I worry about what is mine, what I am responsible for. I try to do the best I can with what I have, and to do it in a way that I’m not taking away from something else or taking away from my family just because I want a new driveway.

- This isn’t for me; none of this is for me. When I do, I do because I could drop dead any minute [I heard her say this 20 years ago, so it has nothing to do with recent years], and after me they’re going to look back and either say I did right or I did wrong. I don’t want to do wrong by anyone.

- God knows. You may think you’re the only one who will ever find out, or it won’t hurt anyone else, but God knows. You have to live with that.

- I had men all over me when I was younger. You don’t hear me talk about it because I don’t give a shit. I didn’t encourage them, and I didn’t make a scene either. We [her and my Grandfather] were at a wedding. I was in my 20′s, and one of his relatives is talking to me like he wants to make something of it. Did you see me making a scene or causing a problem? Did I go to Vince and tell him that he better do something about it? No… but you didn’t see me give the son of a bitch the time of day either. I leaned toward him very quietly and told him to drop dead. After the wedding was over, I told his wife, and walked away. Being a lady has less to do with actually being a lady and more to do with not letting yourself be scared.

- You don’t know the value of a dollar. You can’t. You’ve always had everything – you haven’t had to go without. We were a family of 7 girls. My mother and father had a hard time [financially]. In the dead of winter, my father would walk up and down the tracks – through Lackawanna, into Buffalo, and back again. He would pull a little red wagon behind him, and he would pick up all the coal that had fallen off the trains as they went by. He’d use it to heat the house. He would come back covered in snow, with blue fingers, but his girls never went cold. If we had money sometimes, and we could buy what we needed, we would, but he’d still go out. Because he knew there would be days when we wouldn’t have enough. My mother would sew our underwear from potato sacks. You think that’s awful – it wasn’t. She would cut the potato sacks and clean them, and clean them, and clean them, and clean them some more. Her hands would be raw, and her arms just throbbing so. She would spend hours at it. And when she was done, it looked like the finest pure white cloth you had ever seen. Then she would cut them to size and sew them by hand. She never complained. She was happy to have what she had, and we were happy to have her. That’s why I handle money the way I do [which was a very loaded statement, because she would pinch pennies one minute, and then give it away without so much as a question the next minute – if she felt it just.]

- You give it away too easily [money].

- my response = ‘So what, I try to help out when I can. One way or another, I’ll always figure something out. I’m crafty like that. Some bastards just can’t make ends meet though, especially worthwhile causes that may actually be able to make a positive change in the world.’

- her response = ‘They’ll use that against you [caring]. They know you’ll fall for a sob story.’

- my response = ‘Then that’s something they’ll have to live with, not me.’

- her response = ‘But you’re paying the bill.’

- my response = ‘So how do you deal with it then? Because I’m not the one dumping money into the SPCA.’

- her response = ‘Go to hell. Those little dogs need food.’

I could go on and on, but the point is made. Her choices have resulted in a life that I hope she is content with and takes pride in. I’m proud of her, that much is certain.

When my time comes, likely brought about early by these oh-so-tasty Kool Filter Kings, I hope that I can look back and feel solid… confident.

I am a Liberal – if that’s what you want to call it. I believe that strict interpretation of anything is a sign of ignorance, and the ‘grey-ish’ viewpoint of the Liberal political spectrum is in keeping with that. I support the American Worker’s Right to Unionize. I support government sponsored Health Care. I don’t support carte-blanc welfare, Communism, Socialism, or abuse of Social Aid Systems.

I am a Utopian – if that’s what you want to call it. I believe every person is born with the ability to do great and powerful things in their life. I believe that we have a duty to try and live up to that potential, and that challenging people when they fall short is not a manner of ridicule but a manner of constructive motivation. We must drive each other to excellence.

I am a Homosexual – if that’s what you want to call it. While I have relationships strictly with women, intend to (if the opportunity arises) marry a woman, have never had any interest or interaction with men, and live happily as a straight male; I fully support a human being’s right to date / marry / share life with someone of the same gender if that is how they are driven. So if wanting to protect someone’s right to be happy makes me a raging ‘butt-fucker’, then bend me over and let’s get to it.

I am an Enemy of the Constitution – if that’s what you want to call it. I interpret it in the manner in which it was written, not the manner in which it reads. The primary author of the American Constitution was Thomas Jefferson. He stated clearly, and it is enshrined in chiseled beauty at his memorial…

I am not an advocate for frequent changes in laws and constitutions, but laws and institutions must go hand in hand with the progress of the human mind. As that becomes more developed, more enlightened, as new discoveries are made, new truths discovered and manners and opinions change, with the change of circumstances, institutions must advance also to keep pace with the times. We might as well require a man to wear still the coat which fitted him when a boy as civilized society to remain ever under the regimen of their barbarous ancestors.

So, if interpreting the Constitution and then applying the context of modern society – accounting for the evolution of that society from the time the document was penned, and making appropriate, intelligent adjustments in order to keep with the spirit of the original document… if that makes me an Enemy, then arrest me for Treason now.

I am an Enemy of Christianity – if that’s what you want to call it. The same argument which applies to the Constitution applies to the Bible, only strengthened by ten-fold due to the substantially greater time lapse in years since each was penned. I firmly believe that God would take Jefferson’s statement to heart as much as I do, and be more concerned that the spirit of the original document be understood rather than the details. You cannot claim yourself to be a good Christian because you have obeyed God’s law of not coveting your neighbor’s male servant or donkey. Your neighbor shouldn’t have a male servant – slavery was abolished 150 years ago; and unless you live on a farm, your neighbor probably doesn’t have a donkey either. And your not coveting a non-existent person / non-existent donkey does not make you a just and holy man. It makes you a fool for literally interpreting a document that was intended to convey a deeper message, a concept, a platform for thought and evolution of the mind and soul. Grandma got it right… scroll up to “I don’t care what my neighbors have…”

So, I guess I am all these terrible things – but I’ll sleep like a baby knowing it.

Posted in Society and Darwinism | Comments Off

Answers hard to come by…


… and the truth of the matter eludes us all – for now.

Pursued by 9thousand cops.

Still, justice (whether ‘Frontier Style’ or otherwise) has a welcoming taste.



Posted in Society and Darwinism | Comments Off