The Birthplace of Hockey (click title for link)

Windsor Swastikas Hockey Team 1910

Edmonton Swastikas Hockey Team 1916

Fernie Swastikas Hockey Team 1922

Dr. Barry Taff (08-20-13) The Entity

No matter what they call it peace is just another path to war

Fidel, carding as a response to Black Live Matter
and international jihad
all hard truths
that must spill
and asked to act as
glue but their
solvent
not acid, acetone

Lets just take
them one by one
and march them hard
until like ducks
they line up in a row
so some hunter
can beam with pride
how he killed
a clay pigeon

Carding and it more aggressive bro
stop and frisk
can almost unarguably
be prove to be
a very brisk
broom for which
the streets need
to be clean
especially on mornings
following Saturday night
if you have not woken up
on the Sunday morning sidewalk
you head an island in a sea
of puke
then you really have not
lived
but not recommend
for all of the above

In 2016 for Black people to
suffer the indignity and aggressive
race war
of carding and stop and frisk
is a crime against humanity
first world problem
of significant moral
ambiguity

We can look to sports
for guidance of best practises
colour obviously all put to one
side except for the all encompassing
diverse attraction of green
They don't call it money ball for 
nothing but is that really what
its worth
Horseflesh is it statistical
or its it intangible
is it art or science
or can the two be merged
to create one champion

Carding is moneyball for criminals
its a mathematical way to reduce
statistics in a seemingly positive way
but like the drone death from above
the math may be adding up backwards
because the sum of elimination
just makes the product worse

Math aside carding sucks balls
its totally against any norm of human rights
or just society
it does not matter 
even if it works
because making the trains
run on time
is a great thing
if done with a sliver dime
but if you contaminate the currency
with cheap metal ethics
a society will eventually
corrode
and go to waste

Now on to Fidel
may he rest in peace
the greatest MAN fighter
of the human race
How can we measure a man
like Fidel
who walked this world with
Giant steps
and clearly read
all his press clippings
he killed alot of people
probably directly in the 
thousand and all the collatrall
damage can never be 
calculated

But just who is judging him
from above GWB or Tony Blair
the King of Saudi Arabia
or the latest president
of Aganistian
lets not start on Egypt
or even Israel
the fact of life
if you want
to live as a functional
defensible nation
 in this world
you gotta kill

If you celebrate Fidel's life
your a glass half full
if you rejoice at his death
its half empty for you

Can we measure his barbarity
by how much he enjoyed the crime
can we compare his paranoia
to the Snooper laws just put into the 
disporia in the UK
when your a villain in a Monty Python
sketch
and avoiding exploding cigars is your 
ketch
perhaps you cull the herd a little
hard
only because you really like
your job
and most of all
you want to stay alive

Is history a biography of great men
or are great men just footnotes in history
another question about angles dancing
on the head of pin
we can never answer because
of all the cause and effect
variables and how they are
never direct
and shots taken
linger in time
sometimes for generations
but time to time some
lucky food gets the game
shot at decades or even
centuries ago

Now you feel me
we gotta be ahead
of Islamic terrorism
and its not safe to have
a jihady sleeping in 
your bed

Sharia law is worse than carding
its worse than anything Fidel ever did
it should be outlawed by every civil society
just like the Spanish Inquisition did
The problem with Islam as I see it
is like the problem with Kansas
as described by Tomas Franks
people work against their own
self interests when they
grow up in a land
infested with silos
because that's the only 
way to bring the crops
to market
that's the only 
way to get payed
and for mammon
people will know
what they disbelieve
and wantonly take
pay to know nothing
about something 
they know everything
about
and even lobby to make
it public policy
case in point
the F35
and that's a life
and death matter
self described

Rest in Peace Fidel Castro

Fidel Castro and the Cuban Revolution

Snow Mexican Diary Day 7 ish

Snowcrash is the history text needed to understand the Trump presidency. Whats good for Trump is good for America. Snow Mexican writing about Snowcrash as Winter approaches, its sublime. So far I am batting 1000 in my predictions for a Trump presidency.

After outlasting handfuls of Presidents Fidel Castro finally surrendered the mortal coils to President Trump. A complicated figure that Fidel. When you walk with such big steps upon the world some things are going to be crushed. On balance he was a relatively benevolent dictator. In modern history those are rare even the ones that are elected.

The Secret Land: fresh water lakes in antartica

Operation Highjump: Nazi UFO Base

twisted donut

THE DAY AFTER UFO DISCLOSURE

Gumby's Close Encounter

Naked City: Weegee

Where Is Julian Assange ?

Vicious Lips

wonder

Church of the Holy Family, Barcelona, Spain

A History Of Sci-Fi Television

Normandie Poster

Massive Unidentified Sea Monster Caught on Video Off Oil-Rig

the amoco alien

“In November of 1988 AMOCO placed a full-page advertisement in Aviation Week and Space Technology magazine headlined "Technology so advanced it will help you answer some big questions." On the facing page was a full-page color photo of an alien head and shoulders with his four-fingered hand raised in a gesture of friendship.”

UFOs, ATOMIC BOMBS and the QUEST for POWER

Asking why there is love

I love because
I am comfortable
thats about it
it fits
the chemistry
is stable
and intoxicating
like if Bill Cosby
was sexy

The De Havilland Mosquito

Tracking the Snow Mexicant Leader

Extrodinary Snow Mexicant

This space will be tremendous, extraordinary, literary, irreplaceable, insightful, analytic beyond belief. Your life will be shallow if you don't follow.

Now it may not be daily and I will not melt, but in some way shape or fashion I will Interpret Trump world regularly with the tag Snow Mexican Diary. I am Thinkingaboot a image to use.  The first thing that comes to mind is a snowflake with a Harper face shot in the middle. Harper is the poster child for Snow Mexicans.

Implicant in Trumps proclamations about Mexico is that Americans are vastly superior to those brown beans tolling away to give America cheap cars and Tv's.

Calling Canadians Snow Mexicans is just as condescending but white washed.
The truth is that both Canada and Mexico are vassal states of the United States.
We are like the Walking Dead, America is Neegan. Neegan is like Dread Pirate Scott, immortal and multifaceted but one thing endures, execptionalism.

Trump is the mule just as described by Issac Asimov in the Foundation. Trump is an Orwellian double speak Ninja and tracking his movements may take 6000 years old bowel examinations to determine exactly what kind of shit is going to come down. But it will be a shit show,  there will be sewage beyond belief, its going to be stinky and we can only hope that in four years the opposition can offer real concrete relief.

Trump on Sixty Minutes was all NEVERMIND THE BOLLOCKS I AM A SEX PISTOL. The 70 year old punk rules.

Mysterious Events Caught On Tape

The day impossible happened

This is something I have pursued for more than twenty-five years. The kind of story that raises the hackles on the back of your neck. There's an immediate urge to dismiss it as preposterous, impossible.

Because it is preposterous and impossible. Yet the records are there. A document that tells what happened in deliberately cold and official terms. A field in North Africa during the war. An event that took place that was so impossible the commanding officer at the airfield demanded, and got, the signatures of hundreds of witnesses who saw the whole impossible incident. This is what happened. As it happened. As it was seen and sworn to by hundreds of ground crewmen and pilots, enlisted men and officers.

A flight of P-38s had gone out on patrol. They left to cross the Mediterranean. They mixed it up with German fighters and there was a brief scrap. When the P-38s reformed one airplane was missing. No one could recall, in the furious melee, watching him go down. They looked around, then they started home.

They arrived back at their field in North Africa. The one pilot who failed to return was listed as missing in action. Not yet, though. Not until his fuel ran out. Not until there wasn't even a glimmer of a chance.

The clock ticked slowly. Then, beyond the point of any fuel. Another two hours went by. They put his name on the list of the missing.

It happens. That's war.

Then the air raid sounded. Radar picked up a single aircraft, unknown, coming in toward the field at fairly low altitude and high speed. Anti-aircraft guns started tracking. Some pilots ran for their planes.

Then they saw the intruder. A P-38, alone. Coming in along a shallow dive, engines thundering. It failed to respond to radio calls. There was no response to flares fired hurriedly into the air.

A strange approach; that flat and unwavering dive. The P-38 crossed to the center of the field.

Suddenly the airplane seemed to stagger. It fell apart in midair, a tumble of wreckage falling toward the ground. No flash of fire, no explosion. Just that startling breakup of machinery.

They saw a body fall clear of the wreckage. Pilots muttered, called aloud their thoughts without thinking. Then a parachute opened. Silk blossomed full. But the body hung limp in the harness.

Close to the wreckage, the pilot collapsed. No one saw him move. The crash trucks raced to the scene.

Those who came later saw their friends stunned, disbelieving, shaking their heads. They talked about it through the night. The next morning the light of dawn hadn't changed a thing.

It was impossible.

The fuel tanks of the P-38, the same airplane that was hours beyond any possible remaining fuel, were bone dry.

They had been dry for several hours.

The pilot whose parachute opened, that lowered him to his home field, had a bullet hole in his forehead. He had been dead for hours.

Impossible.

But it happened.

And no one knows how.

Fork-Tailed Devil: The P-38 by Martin Caidin.

The Tower That Ate People - Peter Gabriel

i robot

i robot

A Machine To Die For [1/4] - Perpetual Motion

all my life

UFOs and NATO The Human Mutilation Cover Up

Pitlochry