You Are Not Free

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"


by Emma Lazarus, New York City, 1883

Where is her lamp?

Where is the light?

Where and when do we begin to shake our foolish pride and say...

Enough is enough?

More importantly, when do we say,

"Its not my car or house that makes me a better person. Its my generosity and my kindness that I hope to reflect upon the world before I leave."

How can you have a billion dollars and not think twice about wanting to give half away to help the poor?

Can you not be happy with $500 million?

What the fuck is wrong with the 1%?!!!!

There is over 200 billionaires in the US alone but they would rather fuck their sister or brother than see their money leave the family.

And they will fight the brother and sister they just screwed to fuck them out of the money too!!

The Blonde rather have government cheese!

STAIND

Just Cuz!

Where Are You

Waiting until your home!!!

Another Troop...

leaves for Afghanistan on Monday.

Only this troop includes my son.

Religious wars are ugly business and I just assume we let them implode on their own.

When I hear a man killed his wife for bearing a daughter instead of a son when he has the x and y chromos that decide the fate of the child's sex...

I want to smush his pea brained stupid religious right ass under the tires of a hummer.

Its a good thing my son is going...he has a much more level head than I do. I would kill an Afghan man just for being ugly and looking at me.

GOD BLESS the children who fight this battle.

Let us not forget that every soldier is someone's

son

daughter

and

Mothers

Fathers

brothers

sisters

friends


May the American flag fly high and never drape another coffin.


And if one does, may God please...please...do not let it be my sons

Harvard Bound

and family bond.

Am I using my parents as a crutch?

Or do they hold me back and I am their crutch?

Who could figure this one out?

Perhaps we are both.

How many crutches does it take to help a broken spirit walk?

The Indians would say a spirit has wings.

Well to a whitey like me...

Broken wings means broken arms

and having crutches to deal with

leaves me...

basically,

focaccia


The blonde is flat bread and broken!!!

Admit to Being a Surf

Our society has become a King and surf world. The problem is surfs refuse to let go of pride and admit that they are the low income people repubicans are hating.

If we admit we are broke and that the 1% holds all the money and refuses to share or be privy to a socialist society...the surf will loose and soom become a slave.

When we admit to being surfs

When we admit to being oppressed

whgen we let go of our pride

and realize the 1% has no intention of ever helping us

than we will rise

and we will fight

and we will no longer

be the slave

Eutopia is not achievable but its at least worth trying to fight for it

and we may never achieve it

but we will be closer to happiness

Money needs to stop winning over humanity

The Blonde will not stand for it!!!