The Huge Ill Elephant in the Room

In light of today’s sudden and unexpected loss via apparent suicide of brilliant artist, Robin Williams, I feel the need to reiterate what I’ve been saying in various comment threads around social media.

 

Just say NO! to Snakeman… (or…The Bottom Line On Why We Need To Vote For Obama Again.)

My friend Naomi posted this passionate plea on Facebook yesterday and I have to share…because she is SPOT ON with this shit! Please take a moment to read…and THINK Thx. 🙂
(Warning: there may be some curse words sprinkled here and there. She’s pretty upset/passionate…as she should be!)</em)

“OK, I’m going to do something I NEVER do….I’m going to rant about politics. I am starting to get very frightened by my friends’ beliefs regarding the upcoming elections. I KNOW Obama has not been perfect, has there ever been a perfect president???? But, when I start hearing the same crap I heard back when everyone was stupid enough to vote Green Party I start to really question some people’s common sense.

Voting because you “are following your hippy heart” is all swell and good, but it is not realistic and doesn’t work in the real world. The fact of the matter is, if we don’t band together and back Obama for another term (even if you don’t like him) you’re going to end up with Romney. Have you taken the time to really understand what a fucking douche bag, hypocrite, upper crust, women hating, ass wipe this man is??????????? Really????

Just because you choose to not vote, or vote for Micky Mouse, does not take away from the fact that this scum of the earth will be our next president if we don’t stick together on this. It’s another George Bush waiting to happen people. PLEASE cast your vote with intelligence!!!!!!!!!!! I’m fucking begging you.

This is an election where we have to think with our heads and not our hearts. Our freedoms and futures depend on it. I am FUCKING BEGGING YOU…Please do not skip voting…or vote for your dad or Jesus. We need our votes to count – count against the Christian Right Wing Republican War Monger Wealthy 1% Ass Hole Douche Bag Moron from getting into office. This is actually important!

This is no longer about whether you “like” Obama. It is about the greater good.”

THANK YOU, Naomi! ♥ ♥
(re-posted with permission)

 

My Letter To Congress

I just wrote a big stinky letter about SOPA/PIPA to all of my government representatives. Like, really really. Sent it off to each of my three peeps: Patty Murray, Maria Cantwell and Jim McDermott. I wholeheartedly recommend you all do exactly the same thing to your reps Feel free to even use my exact letter below. Well, you may want to leave out the first part about being six years old…but steal the rest as much as you want! 🙂 DO IT NOW…because they’re supposed to vote on this issue on January 24th. That’s next week!

Dear [Congressperson],

Let me start off by letting you know that I am a career voter. I’m serious…there’s no other way to put it. When I was six years old I came home crying from school because I found out that our exercise in voting wasn’t real. See, I was PISSED OFF that my vote for McGovern didn’t count. Oh boy, was I pissed. I then counted the days until I could legally vote and ferociously absorbed everything about every political person and issue I could find. I was obsessed.

The result of this obsession is that I have voted in every single election since turning 18 years old in 1984. I enlisted friends that otherwise wouldn’t have given a shit to register to vote and vote with me. I have voted for YOU every time you have run since I moved to Washington state in 1989. And I PROMISE that I WILL NOT VOTE FOR YOU if you vote for SOPA or PIPA. PERIOD. I’m. Not. Kidding.

Furthermore, I’m working hard to get all my friends…in real life and online…to do exactly the same. Think about it. DO NOT LET SOPA/PIPA pass! I’m dead serious.

SOPA and PIPA would put the burden on website owners to police user-contributed material and call for the unnecessary blocking of entire sites. Small sites won’t have sufficient resources to defend themselves. Big media companies may seek to cut off funding sources for their foreign competitors, even if copyright isn’t being infringed. Foreign sites will be blacklisted, which means they won’t show up in major search engines. SOPA and PIPA would build a framework for future restrictions and suppression.

You all in Congress say it’s about trying to protect the rights of copyright owners, but the “cure” that SOPA and PIPA represent is worse than the disease. It’s target shooting with a shotgun. SOPA and PIPA are not the answer: they would fatally damage the free and open Internet.

I cannot stress this enough. Please watch this video. LISTEN to what he’s saying.

And let me say it one more time to be absolutely clear: I WILL NOT EVER VOTE FOR YOU EVER AGAIN IF YOU VOTE FOR THE BULLSHIT THAT IS SOPA/PIPA.

Thanks for reading this. I hope you read the whole thing. I don’t know anymore if you guys care about us little guys or not anymore. And that makes me sad. It makes me beyond sad.

Sincerely,

Dyanne R. Kessler
Career Voter and Passionate American

 

Always Remember. Never Forget…EVER. (or…Where’s Our New Dr. King?)

Last year this day I wrote a little post called Have A Goddamn Dream, Damn It. Go check it out. It’s not much…not all wordy and long…but I stand by it. Watch the video. LISTEN to the video. It still rings true. As does this one I’m sharing today of Dr. King’s final speech…delivered the day before his assassination.

I hear a fearless man that knows he probably should be afraid. I see a fantastic, charismatic leader ready to do the dirty work of speaking the TRUTH loud and clear, of igniting the FIRE deep in the soul of the People, and the dangerous work of standing up to “The Man” (ie The Government Machine). I see a brave captain knowing he may have to go down for the ship before giving up. He was no dummy…he knew he had enemies that wanted to shut him the fuck up.

Now, I’m not a Christian and I get pretty sick to death with all the bible-thumping, Jesus-invoking rabble-rousing so many politicians have resorted to in the past few years. But for some reason, Dr. King’s Christian God references in his last public speech…as with all his other great speeches…don’t even bother me one bit. This man was The Real Deal. He believed and he knew…and his message was right in line with the true meaning of Christianity. He meant it for helping…for FREEDOM…not for personal gain and restriction, as all these asshat rightwing conservatives have been after lately.

I hear Dr. King speaking to us HERE and NOW. His message is LOUD and CLEAR…

“Somewhere I read the greatness of America is the right to protest for right!”

He was a Great Man standing up to THE Man. We need another one like him…and we need him right the fuck NOW.

Don’t let Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and everything he stood for be forgotten. Don’t let the FIRE go out! Not EVER …and especially NOT NOW.

 

Hey Girlie, Can I Be Your New Mommy? (or…Boots for Walkin’ vs Cars for Cruisin’)

So being that I take The SlaveBox Express (aka public transportation) to work everyday, I walk a few blocks between bus stop and destination and therefore get to see…and notice…things that those speeding around in cars might not. While you’re hurling along down the asphalt, rummaging in your purse on the passenger seat, illegally texting novellas to clients/friends/bosses/family and risking life and limb (and fines and lawsuits), I’m getting a tad bit of exercise, earbuds firmly set, a new-favorite-band-discovered-recently blaring from my iPod…and perusing my city. Looking at nothing. Looking at everything. Searching for color, line, shadow, glare and texture.

Today was no exception. The little green walking man in the walk-don’t-walk sign blinks on, my Dr Martens leave the curb, I glare at the aging bimbo in the Stupid Ugly Vehicle (SUV) who almost “forgot” that the red light means that she actually must stop…preferably BEFORE entering the crosswalk portion of the road. I reach the far side curb, begin my decent down a sidewalk with an incline to rival any in San Francisco…hell, it could well double as a certain piece of playground equipment it’s so steep…and, lo and behold, there she was: A 1961 Mercury Comet 2-door coupe…with an obviously very adequate parking brake…just sitting there on the cobblestones.

Now, this sweet vehicle really deserves a better mommy/daddy…because sweetie needs a bath, as well as some extensive work on her interior. A little minor exterior sprucing up would be nice too. That all said…I want her.

Isn’t that ironic? Put me behind the wheel with my little driving gloves, Jackie-O sunglasses, floaty headscarf and deep red lipstick slathered on my pouty-snarly lips and…oh! I’d suddenly be in with you lot, zipping around the city not noticing anything anymore wouldn’t I?

Huh.

And therein lies the dilemma.

But ain’t she COOOOL?? I would be SO bad-ass in her. sigh

All content copyright D. Kessler 2012. Unauthorized use strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

 

Of Windowpanes and Wanderings…

After three days of non-stop blustery soggy mayhem, something amazing happened: Oh My Gawd…the freaking SUN came out! It was still pretty windy…and the temperature had dropped considerably…but a sunny winter day in downtown Seattle means only one thing: Yea, verily I say unto you, thou must go on walk-about during thy lunch break. Period.

A walk-about downtown is not a real walk-about without drooling over pretty things through a large pane of glass…

…but if one stays too long plastered cheek-to-cheek with the window, not only does your face start to get really cold, but people start to look at you funny…and sales people try to get you to come in out of the wind “just to try it on”. Oh, hell no. That’s way too dangerous and/or painful. (No $$ = No can buy anything. sigh)

So, on we trod…

Hello, Westlake Park. Do you miss your Occupy Seattle brothers and sisters?

But it’s not all looking at the pavement on a sunny Seattle afternoon. Once you look up at the sky you can’t help but see the awesomeness that rises from the dark into the light…

But sooner or later, that Pied Piper’s tune wafts through the alleyways and trickles over the rooftops…and there you are again…

…with your face slowly losing feeling against the icy pane…your eyes glazed over…and tourists exchanging quizzical looks.

Fuck ’em. Leave me to my wistful fantasy…

All photos copyright D. Kessler 2012. Unauthorized use strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

 

In Lieu of Asshats & Moronity

I fail to understand why the American Political Machine grants so much gravity to what the hell they think in Iowa. I get that it’s a swing state. I get that it’s “America’s Heartland”, full of working class, prideful voters, with a history and tradition of doing it for themselves. I get that the Iowa Caucus is the first major kick-off game of the championship play-offs in the winner-takes-all extravaganza that ends in Washington.

Big whoop-dee-whoop.

This ain’t readin’ tea leaves! This shouldn’t be a game of Follow-the-Leader! What Joe & Wendy Schmoe decide they like and want to do in Iowa shouldn’t have such a damn awe-inspiring, head-nodding influence on the rest of the other state races, damnit! Unfortunately, thanks in great part to the media and perpetuated by all sides, that’s exactly what it does. What a freaking bunch of lemmings Americans are.

We’ve got a line-up of frothy asshat morons babbling conspiracy theories to scare, lying kiss-ass promises to coddle, and enough thinly cloaked hatred of you-name-it to incite that I just want to slap everybody real hard up-side their heads and send them to bed without dinner…all the way out to OUTER SPACE!

But, see, now I’m getting all foamy at the mouth…and I have not even yet broke out the soap from this box I’m standing on, much less shoved it onto anybody’s tongue, especially not mine. Time to take a deep breath…sigh…and chillllll.

Now isn’t this picture of the flowerbeds outside The SlaveBox a hell of a lot nicer than anything out of Iowa tonight?

Ok, that’s it. Talk amongst yourselves. Better yet, shut up and have a glass of wine. 🙂

All content copyright D. Kessler 2012. Unauthorized use strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

 

Away We Go, A-Marketing… (or… In Which The Family Goes Foraging for Foodstuffs…)

Sometimes, after being stuck indoors with The Heinous Dreaded Holiday Cold of 2011 for a few days, you just have to just go on walkabout to take pictures of stuff…of anything…if only to remind yourself that there really IS a real and tangible world out there. It’s not all just Facebook and Twitter, Flipboad and Tumbler. Yep…time to slap on the pit-stick, swish some Listerene, lace up the Dr Martens and hit the neighborhood pavement. Besides, I desperately wanted a mimosa and there was not a drop of orange juice in the refrigerator!

Hello, favorite local grocery…long time no see!

The cruel fallacy that are flowers in winter…

A plethora of olives: No one can eat just one…

A local favorite: caught, cooked and ready to eat…pass the drawn butter, please!

Let them eat CAKE! 🙂 Sweets for the sweet…and for good luck in the new year…

Time to pay The Piper…

Aaaannnd…Ta-DAH! We emerge victorious, mission accomplished.
(Note: Doesn’t Darling Daughter look cute in her hammy pose? LOL)

All photos copyright D. Kessler 2012. Unauthorized use strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

 

HeeHaaww and Merry Christmas!

I’ve been in a funk. No…that’s putting it very mildly. I’ve been full on in a foul mood this weekend. No money, no holiday goodies or gifts, no family close by, a toothache, a headache…did I say no money? Yeah, whats to be merry ho-ho-f#cking-ho about, right?

But this morning…Christmas morning…I got the best present from my favorite Aunt: a huge-laugh-out-loud Christmas memory that I’d all but forgotten.

What better way to wish a Merry Christmas to the world than to share this awesome Christmas Morning email? If you have kids…or remember what it’s like to be a kid…it’s especially funny. Or maybe I’ve just finally fell off my rocker. LOL

Enjoy!

Dear Miss Banana,

Merry Christmas !
I have a “…Christmas when Dyanne was a little girl…TRUE story” for you.
You were about three and a half and your mother and I took you to Santa Barbara in search of Santa so you could tell him your list. Your mother wisely had me scout santa first to make sure that a child as smart and precocious as you were wasn’t disappointed by a sub-par, and therfore phony Santa Claus.
Well, we started at Sears. Your mom distracted you while I checked Santa out. About 18 years old, 6 foot 4, and weighed about 120 pounds. Whew, that was a close one! So then we went to Robinson’s. Not bad, but when I got closer to him, his beard was of poor quality and you could easily see his clean-shaven face. Nope, not that one. We went a couple of other places only to be disappointed.
Meanwhile, you were getting impatient with us. We wound up downtown at the old JCPenney”s, I began to feel almost desperate,but went downstairs to check out santa while your mom again took you around the store to look at stuff. I went downstairs and there on a glorious throne of gold and red velvet, with tons of candycanes and xmas decorations, sat THE coca cola Santa Claus!!! An obviously real white hairline, rosy cheeks, cherry nose, rimless specktacles, thick luxurious white beard, beautiful red velvet/white fur costume authentically filled out by many years of too many xmas cookies…gosh he was just gorgeous! I ran upstairs to tell your mom that “THIS IS IT!”
You were so excited to see him and easily climbed up on his lap and looked into his very merry face. He leaned down and sweetly said in a a very high and distinctively woman’s voice, “And so, little girl, what would you like for Christmas?”
Your mom and I were stunned…I remember feeling the blood drain from my face because you were way too young to have that fantasy crushed. You were very quiet for what seemed like an eternity to us but was probably just 3 or 4 seconds. Then you turned and gave us a hooded “what the.?.” look. You told Santa what you wanted and then slowly walked back to us. Your mom and I didn’t know what to say, so we didn’t say anything…just waited for the crash.
But, as usual, you were way ahead of us. You looked up into your mom’s eyes and slowly asked, “Mommy, do you think maybe that was MRS.Claus?”
Whew!

Merry Christmas, Dyanne. I love you

Auntie M’reen

HeeHaaw and Merry Christmas, Everybody!

 

The Return of The Sun…

Something about the day after Yule/Solstice perks me up. I get all crazy and giddy and feel like I’m about to burst. The SUN is on the RETURN! Holy Crowley! F&ck Yeah! 🙂

Take a peek into my world today at 11:00 am…