words, words, words

Yvette left this picture (her name was on the back, although, she had a little difficulty writing it) on the ground in Leucadia.

Today Hassoun’s family pleaded for his release.

“In the name of Allah, the merciful, the compassionate, we accept destiny with its good and its bad,” said Hassoun family friend Tarek Nosseir outside the Hassouns’ home. “We pray and we plead for his safe release and we ask all people of the world to join us in our prayers. May God bless us all.”

+++++

First of all, this is another in a line of personal tragedies. I hope he is returned safely home.

Working for him is a brilliant plea. The last line unites the Western sympathizers with the family’s plea, after possibly alienating middle America by mentioning Allah in the first line. The first line of the plea, “In the name of Allah, the merciful, the compassionate”, is actually the first line of the Koran. Just to remind the kindappers.

And what a beautiful first line.

But how do you twist a religion based on a merciful and a compassionate God into a vehicle of evil.

It is impossible.

There is something else behind the jihad, and the jihadis.

It is something evil, warping a religion and my guess is that it is money. Because when awful things happen in the world it is generally because a few people are making some dough. Oilgarchy, anyone?

I just got yelled at by a man in a neon green Ford Mustang.

These people in Callifornia, the way they drive…

I am going to see just how crazy I can make them…

I am going to drive slowly…. everywhere… all the time… and make them all have heart attacks.

If I don’t jump on the accelrator fast enough when a light turns green, and someone honks at me. I am going to sit all the way through the green light, and maybe go on the yellow or the red.

This is war.

“Your welcome”

“I could care less”

“Enfant terrible” (aka “Terrible baby!”)

“We have an issue with the …. “(fill in the blank)

“Grammer”

“Have a good one!” (No thanks, I have other plans.)

“Vale.” (Es.)

“It’s the ______, stupid!” (Fill in the blank, “economy”, “democracy”, “bad writing”: whatever they use, it is still rude.)

More to follow…

Oh, one more, “Where you at?” (Especially from a cell phone operator)

That’s right, get it while it’s hot.

I’m auctioning a gmail account invitation.

Gmail Auction

Let the bidding begin…

Sitting next to a woman on the train today, with the biggest diamond I have ever seen on her finger, a thought occurred to me…

Diamonds are forever, but you have an expiration date.

Nothing says, “I am a conspicuous consumer” like a really expensive rock on your finger.

I forgot to mention.

There was an earthquake off the coast of San Diego on Tuesday.

A 5.something.

It should the building I was working in.

So I walked briskly out of the office, to the big room with the blue ceiling.

I’m not sure what one is supposed to do.

Go to a doorway?

But the whole building is glass and those insulation panels.

Very exciting stuff though.

It wasn’t as big as the one in Panama.

But this time I didn’t have to grab my surfboard and my passport on the way out the door.

It seems like everything has “issues” when we talk about projects.

I’m getting sick of the term. The word “issues” has been hijacked from the lexicon of Pop. Psychology.

What we are talking about are problems.

For example:

“My tire has issues. I am going to need to be pro-active and find a gas station.”

This means:

“There is a problem with the tire. I am going to have to walk to a gas station.”

I’m not saying that people don’t have issues. Everyone has issues. But if you call it a problem, you solve it; if you call it an issue, you get to stare at it.

“Pro-active” is another installment of the corporate dictionary which may be too annoying to write.

My ribs hurt because of a new and innovative way that I tried to get tubed. I surfed yesterday and now I hurt again today.

Luke has determined that the rumbling from the ocean is machine gunfire. Which is a lot less dramatic than the plates shifting, but still a bit disturbing.

“Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?… ”

My ribs are killing me. I don’t know what I did, but I can’t take a full breath.