A Yahoo! News headline, Witnesses Change Stories Ahead of Zimmerman Trial, followed Central Florida’s Orlando Sentinel coverage sharing recordings reviewing discovery process material released by the special prosecutor’s office last week. A gripping announcement that four witnesses have already vacillated on projected testimony before trial. While what the Sentinel’s recordings reveal is scared anxious people sound culturally trapped too.
The even more local Sanford Herald notes more details of why there apparently was a fight. Regardless. That this is very bad probably ran through everyone’s head from the tragedy’s onset through Cause célèbre. A bad thing, far from the right thing, except, now we’re publicly told, the defendant possibly showed no remorse at the scene. Information apparently from that witness’ second questioning, not the first. Nuances that can go on and on, and will as Trayvon was from Miami so George had less reason to believe Trayvon should be in his neighborhood, the gated community.
There are traces of marijuana found in the victim’s blood and his suspension from school for the substance is why he was in Sanford to begin with. Adapting to a counter-culture accoutrement descended from African-American jazz musician progenitors, Trayvon, a teenager can now be inadvertently scapegoated for the militarized drug war. Justice as a points system is why racism lingered even after America woke from virtually sleeping on prejudice for a century(s). I just don’t see condemning this poor confused man fixing injustice that’s society’s fault Mr. Zimmerman grew into this tragedy. His simmering prejudicial hostility didn’t just peak that day during the 911 call.
For an insightful mid-April national discussion, Professor Michael Eric Dyson of Georgetown University is featured on CBS-Television’s Face The Nation pointing out black folks usually have to follow what the police tell them or they’re in real trouble while George Zimmerman ignored the police instruction not to follow.
But I’m personally for releasing Mr. Zimmerman yesterday if in setting him free, the guilt was collectively felt for what caused this crime. Doesn’t matter how confused the defendant ever was, odds unfortunately favor he remains a victim too.
5/23/2012
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Absolutely Tragic Trayvon Martin Case
5/23/2012 concluded: But I’m personally for releasing Mr. Zimmerman yesterday if in setting him free, the guilt was collectively felt for what caused this crime. Doesn’t matter how confused the defendant ever was, odds unfortunately favor he remains a victim too.
Bike Couriers Finish Steve The Greek's Memorial Ride
The Memorial Service For Stephen
"Steve The Greek" Athineos
"Steve The Greek" Athineos
"Rest In Peace Steve. We all loved you." Sheila
Yeah so, on the family's ride, northwest corner of 70 and Lex, a civilian expletively taunted, "come back here" and last around I remarked, "It's not necessary." Cars didn't honk. Saturday probably. Even the police didn't appear giving your ride a thumbs up. Bikes were raised three different times and flowers adorn Madison and Lexington landmark lamps and your ride was smooth, Steve. You're the bumpy part.
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Jan. 12 - Feb. 12, 2016
Defying The Medical Machine by Noam Scheiber
in The New York Times. Tell people what they don't want to know. Because, liked or not, in sports vernacular, politicized jargon has to be sucked up. Soapbox View
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The Absolutely Tragic Trayvon Martin Case
FOR THE RECORD: Timeline of the shooting of Trayvon Martin
Well. Was May 23rd, 2012's lenient reasoning just twisted excuses? And, to be expected from a Sanford Seminole High School, 1975 co-Most Valuable Male Swimmer's attitude on the causes and aftermaths of situations like this, that happened in Sanford, Florida. But fathom my disappointment in racism's complacent acceptance, that were pathological ancestors' fraught-jul traits, still conveniently pretended to not still be the entrenched bitterness still in the way. Blah blah blah. Blah as generally no one hears what they don't want bothering them.
Imagining things are better, means its not enough. Better's not over. Nor could such vehemence exist all over the world, on so many, supposedly, separate, undermining levels, if the unprincipledness of prejudice weren't still too intact.
Political Pirouette
Equate welfare with socialism for the rich. Yes. I know continue to site candidate Ben Carson candidly points out economics is about class, not race. Mmm. "Prolific" and up for an Oscar too, or I missed something embellishing? Because, though exaggeration's hopelessly obvious when gauging presidential candidates, we certainly seem to not only thrive, but survive on hype?
So however moot it may seem, to wonder about equating welfare with socialism for the rich plus corporate welfare? Still, re-weighing these scruples is important to deciding the untouched principle on 40 Acres And A Mule is not as golden as white rule allied with how much some people really aren't interested because, yep, that's just politics.
The renewal of fiscal sincerity is profound. But modified into scapegoat bellyaching? It's evidence of a perpetual beating, and reviving, that welfare horse like a political mule that can't die nor ever outlive its usefulness so must be pulled across no matter what. Socialism's not the only archaic redundancy being flaunted about. Take note that however conveniently shrewd public opinion's carved its not just a business. PR charade. Façade covering the real goods. These bargains of redundant oaths the public's easily convinced of and controlled by, are also the cracks in our imagery faking historical memory that future generations will recall as what ours wouldn't face in all our self-congratulatory glory. Because one thing this whole world's already quite renowned for is telling some really huge whoppers.
Meaning symbols evolve. For example this, supposedly, theoretically, diametric fact from the world's casebook on designing history in your own images. Lenin's dictatorship of the proletariat and primacy of political committee over citizens' fates was an outline for revolution, not government. Historians know that. Political preaching's a whole other ballgame. Stalinesque political gestures having far outlived that man's lifetime. So the point, basically, is the Bolshevik Revolution outlived its practical usefulness to the Russian Revolution exactly when the event started.
So. There's no plain explanation for how this redundantly, endless, generational tug-of-war over what capitalism means indicates progress. Capitalism is socialism as the pinnacle of either economic philosophy's proper functioning is complete circulation. The conservative panacea? Money circulates. If only the problem was just waste everything would be instantly solved. Just keep wasting money. Then at least some would infiltrate the economy-at-large as President Reagan intoned was and is still really the only solution as it is reality. We've got the up part, but down's clogged that we'll eventually get to when we can afford it or train people to be better cogs? While, in the meantime, so d_____ proud of our successful accomplishments. No kidding homelessness isn't a source of direct profit. Just not as participatory or engagingly entertaining as war. Yet at root the real cause of all the world's bitter jealousies.
It's like a big joke where no one connects the dots that the bottom rung's been removed from the perpetually falling financial ladder's ledger. Nothing to win but debt you can't sell. Goodwill isn't charity. It's caring for where society's soul's collapsed.
But soon illusion'll clear, perhaps. When the politically confused are convinced? When the sky's completely droned over delivering consumables to the inside world writing code? When the complaint will still be ordinary people still don't want to work.
Socialism? Don Quioté didn't even know he was also a windmill too. And all this present-day confusion surrounding us now will pass too as had that noble warrior's gallant knights' age. So know, remember, whatever. What the future sees is regardless how the world's elites parade their people as guardians of freedom, free enterprise and national fate? Bottom line, all anyone's really sure of is they'd rather not be the yoke.
Good business can just cut corners? As stock markets plunge following receding oil market stocks. It's not money's limited imagination. Nor finance's limits limiting money's imagination. But the fact straightening your tie'll do it. Because - No one's getting their hands dirty getting their hands dirty.
Deceptive practices and misleading sweeping statements are excused as, pragmatically, leverage flows ruthlessly in politics? Basically a rough sport. Beyond the crafted platforms. Still, not the complete point. That there's "a need for necessary toughness" is true. But when solutions are simple, tough's supposed to be resolve. Not arrogantly destructive. Right. Pass the hankies. It's another grand parade of bleeding heart liberals already used again.
But we're lucky. There seems to be a deserving spot for using Solomonic logic to separate America's political halves right. Again? Because it's beyond comprehension how there's not resolution, when we're so presently blessed with so many, various, multifarious veneers of effervescent political charm for "the people" to hide behind. Ba dump bump. Cut to the chase.
Speaking of hidden behind cultural symbols. Last time I watched Sean Hannity, he featured, his downright Elmer Fuddianish focused sidekick, Frank Luntz. A veritable watchdog on the "national pulse," tandem-ly opposite Meet The Press' Chuck "Numbers" Todd? So, anyway. Luntz and Hannity were describing, before a board, to a studio and home audience, how what's true doesn't matter when the public's already been effectively convinced of something else. The public opinion marketplace as ridden carthorse? No. Stop it. The man's had abundant opportunity to convince me he's not an idiot. Yes I've committed the sin of political opposition to Sean. The trouble's finding his middle. Is there a heart to bleed? Yada yada yada.
So, Americans haven't time to really weigh President Obama's last rhetorically laden, State of the Union Address. The package condensed to portrayals of dogma directed to the American people, garnered by representation sitting stone cold as if solutions are just polishing status' quo. Ooo, right. That sounds how liberals think they would say we say we're demonstrating opposition to our country's never having fully tried solving rich people's problems. Though obvious we don't know much about any problems unless rich people share them. Like fear for the middle class when throughout most of history the rich were today's middle class. The goalposts were moved while everyone claimed to be watching? Correct.
The economy's almost fixed because learning to share well isn't specifically the problem. Dag nab it though. We're after that economic "wabbit?" That's right. A solution's right there if scapegoats weren't every explanation.
Inflation. Just because the solution's not feasibly within reach now doesn't mean its not the solution. Because chasing inflation solves things for some of us while creating more problems formats of us. The constant devaluing of money and pretending the problem's workable has to go.
Inflation. Profit derived from riding the skim staying ahead blaming the carthorse for not keeping up with the float. A touch of over-dramatized simplification with icing? When money's completely watched over by a vocation that, coincidently, January 13th, was announced by universities as having a banner year in enrollment for Economist Degrees. Another generation learning success is the strength of your associations (conspiracies) that has nothing to do with money having everything to do with money.
Contemplate that maybe America's not just supposed to be a carnival where the show comes to town and packs up after votes are counted and customers settle down till the next carnival comes. That political seasons were always ongoing concerns, and the skies are the entertainment's limit. Where any façade works, except Mayberry? What the? Society cannot become more touchy-feely? Crime, criminality and terrorism's too extreme. Tough and rough. Soft doesn't work. Too many people not to trust. Then, that's the problem. Not how many culprits are thoroughly beaten to a pulp and more, had their dignities challenged. Justice is blind for a reason. To not see what people keep trying to show her. Because it's obviously hard to believe what she hears. And woman because they're progress' barometer.
Congress. Nothing changes without your changing the Criminal Enterprise System. Become adults. Face injustice. Consequences are problems, not scapegoats. Not facing problems isn't being tough but rather annoyingly obtuse. Just ask a liberal? Te he he. Well. They're falling over in the aisles if you can get your head out of the mirror. Stare long enough you never see Plato, America.
So was it rhetoric's façade that drug me down into competitively going after political conservatives? No. I'd prefer that weren't my game. But when push comes to shove, and independence the short-skirted card? Anyway, I'm registered Republican, as were my parents. A real legacy that's not open to negotiation "as they say."
Yeah, poisoned long ago? Past minion re-education redemption. Because contriving general approaches to convenient circumstances is not facing broader issues and a problem reducing support to belief in two cars in the garage? While watching the Super Bowl! Dag nab it, no! There goes that invading liberal guardian angel crap again? But maybe not? I'm not after jargon. I'm after Sean.
Oh no. Obviously written too blatantly liberal? Maybe I should chant ten Hail Mary Mother of Moneys in redemption. God/Allah forbid that's trending. Well uh? At least what I mean is, people should face some middle-ground? But. Yep. Not while people are so sure-fired worked up to repeat cheerleaders' repetitive cheers, that're obviously substituted for real political discourse, and, or otherwise. Practically token charade where "talking about's" political code for nothing more's mentioned than labels that touch some significance barometer re-heightened only just that week. No matter what conservatives say liberals say conservatives say liberals say conservatives say liberals say ... cheese.
Or, maybe I also have a too liberal fondness for suspicion of smooth conspiracy being granted the benefit of the doubt when rebuilding the earth's machine's been driven in our own craven image? Imagining the planet with Sean's smile? Just look. That air of satisfaction buffered by the bottom line. Too like selling used cars? No! Ba dump bump. Cars are great then they deserve a better legacy than drowning humanity in their consumption. Toyed with oil market be d____d? Try pragmatic rather than its pretension. Because Hype's ahead of Sham into the last turn?
Yeah um. Mr. President. I don't know that in this day and era of bragging, walking on the moon's the best boast. After all a lot of trampling's taken place right around here. It's not as if astronauts brought back take-out food. Well, at least not right away. Just access to more real estate with people still, more or less, just thinking about visiting. No news on who'd run the hotel but surely adjectives abound. There you go. That's a stock all about rising. Not that petty world of subsidized housing while making payments into the financial system on a private car. There's a large so what factor to complaining about what the welfare class accepted in more than just taking the gruff.
So there was that brief plug in The President's State of the Union Address calling for updating the world's power and energy use, that he buried behind the redundant "we're best" dogma chanted to a unanimous cheer. That's also, coincidently, a known, verified, aspect of ISIL political culture too. Etc. Will Political Culture’s True Ruthless Face ever be faced?
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Where's Jim Rockford to cloak meaning in metaphor when ya need him? Escapism, sometimes good or bad but just too ambivalent. Ducking out on Congress, imagine that? But not in contempt. Pardon me.
Because players making more money wasn't just why ticket prices skyrocketed out-of-touch. Especially when scapegoating's always in season. About time sportswriters face America rather than shielding everyone from the truth about our general judgmental selfish-ness. Tim Raines earned his place in the Hall many times over and d______ right I'm biased. Yes. I know the numbers. And ya'll should be ashamed.
Ooo. "Too cryptic?" Tell me about it. After watching Tim's acceleration in Seminole High School, I got out of sportswriting's chasing clichés. Have a nice day.
And didja know? For Americans gouge the customer came in as retiring on the interest on $100,000 in the bank was going out. Economics have nothing to do with Baseball. Exactly? Tim belongs in that hall more than anyone who's sacrificed for the game after him. For standing in opposition to players having less leverage. While the great hall accomplishment is something Mr. Raines earned on the field.
Right? Tim played his third year for the Yankees at age thirty-nine because George Steinbrenner just liked throwing money around? Finally the rest of the league wouldn't out-bid him, but George finally acquired another star. Isn't that what PR keeps chanting is the hall's purpose? Or it was just coincidence that when Manager Joe Torre congratulated the Yankees on the steps of City Hall on the occasion of winning Tim's first World Series, Mr. Torre reached for Tim's hand first.
Your honors. Prosecution rests.
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Exacting justice as revenge avenging desperation's revenge is a cultural flaw law's hardly involved in solving yet expected to supervise paying for The Criminal Enterprise System.
Hello,
Let's walk? Gallivant around Sanford. See where Jackie Robinson was stopped from playing a simple game of baseball. Or rather one of them. But this one's supposed to be the last before Jacksonville and Deland cancelled. Looking, Sanford Memorial Stadium appears to be just another among many landmarks nations are known for priding on their milestones' ability to convey what real honor is in appreciating the commemoration of what their countries' values were truly meant to mean.
Not exactly walking, flying over the past?
To the right of the stadium used to be the Sanford Naval Academy. Where the mid-level northern elite sent their troublesome offspring to store out of their hair and keep disciplined. Or at least that was the intention I perceived from information given by a single second-hand witness. Anyway, there used to be a pool right there towards the back of the lot, with what looked like a nice, ole, gone now, small military hanger. That was where the second pool I ever swam in, in that town, used to be. That I can recall. And am fairly sure I swam here first when it was a bigger pool and Sanford Naval Academy was there too. Re-designing a pool smaller? Baffling concept. I also swam here. Including the, probably long gone, dag-gummed airport pool that was the coolest. Isolated. Robert Duvall loved swimming laps there in the morning pleasure-boat factory's, "invisible to the naked eye," polyurethane fumes. "All battles are won in the trenches," the colonel'd say, hanging his head, at the pool's edge, staring into the gutter. "Ready go."
But previous to that, I'd quit swimming for the summer of 1972. So jumping back downtown, filling the timeline, there were two tennis courts here, and two now gone baseball fields to the right. Yeah. The dual-courts were where in the summer of 1972, mysteriously, a Hamilton Fish, who might not be Hamilton Fish V, but was the guy at the courts named Hamilton Fish, descended from New York legislative fame, who volleyed there and encouraged David McCook's aggressive tennis stroke.
"What time is it Hamilton?" The kids would say, and Hamilton'd answer exactly however minutes and seconds before or after the hour it was. As if time were for calculating and marching on. Time dogmatic grandfathers moved on ahead too? Only the miracle of time-travel correction only happens in the movies. Nothing but time moves forward?
The Great American Maul
Sanford's dehighwayification of 1st Street epitomized by the empty plaza, pictured left. Is as could be expected, from the comfortably civilized downtown's dis-utilization that reflects Highway I-4's adjacent shopping complex, Seminole Towne Center. Lifting the next centuries atop the 19th shoulders. Ya don't even have to make it up. Sprawl or not to sprawl? That's the answer's question. Whether its nobler to heighten nature's abutments or cover it (the preposition) completely. Asphalt laced cement for everyone everywhere. Then maybe, for sure, the peninsula will float in some such distortion as when progress' glossed over, history's trampled on.
All that land plowed under for convenience? People just plain needed one more nearer place to shop between there and Orlando? Another huge place to park? Whole spaces between us filled so that anyone caught in or out of the house is shopping? No? Maybe I do need study as my observation's too idly distant from the subject for my speculative taste. But without speculation there's no digging, and possibilities for miscalculation are endless anyway.
So. Causing effect, also speaks to half-cocked people patrolling after half-cocked crooks getting half-cocked kicks from the whole protection racket set up to protect us from ourselves. Guns do go off but people half-cocked. Criminal Enterprise System.
Things change but I could swear this spot looked like this before I was born. Moving through town I can feel the simple businesses suffering with all of us, the simply complicated ethical lapses that are easier accepting as shrewd calculations than missteps beyond our ability to restrain. Maybe. But money doesn't just disappear, yet it's up in smoke they say, gone like with the wind, they say, it's good we digest that. Well.
The high school parking lots of America. Long may they wave, sarcastically evoked.
This is the intersection in Driver's Ed. where Mrs. Campbell screamed at me to look somewhere and she grabbed for the wheel, making even me realize to tell her to cut it out. It's important to see calmly. Teachers. In all the shoveling money this way and that, the fact people give of their lives to not just teach but understand others is beyond this nonsense of how the funding's split. Arguments among all the scapegoats while kids are blamed for being in the middle?
Seriously this used to be town. Publix was right there where I worked part-time for sixteen months. Weeks after I quit sportswriting because Tim Raines speed so impressed me as having a future, the assistant manager Larry came to me disappointed because I hadn't told him I'd stopped going to games when all the younger guys wanted that night off too. I was thinking about things. I didn't mind working Friday nights.
This is incredible. In my few Google Maps excursions I haven't come across this before. Dag gum. I had tried to plop down on the other half of the highway for a better view up river, but, man. Huh.
I miss traveling through the simple places. You've no business to be there so you'd just be traveling through. Trees are what's picaresque about us. We're just a type of gaudy jewelry, per se.
Florida used to look like this. Now there's even the pizzazz of sidewalks leading to Rock Springs. I miss Florida. Trees. This is where my parents had their funerals. Cemetery where they're buried. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust but I like being there where their remains are. Our house. Where I was raised is now parking lot as far as the eye sees. Home of the Panthers. Where Coach Comer and the football team saw me demolish fellow 11 year olds James Oliver, Kenneth Carpenter and either Tommy Watson or Wade Andrews in a four lap mile challenge around the track. The challenge was for a shorter race but I was so slow I needed the mile to have a chance. Moss. My favorite pool.
Leaping back from across protected forest and memorialized childhood to Sanford's northeastern-est edge. The Osteen Douglas Stenstrom Bridge that replaced the quaint old one after a truck pushing commission rates totaled the bridge and five innocent lives in 1974. That summer Patrick and I'd crossed that little bridge many times a week to go surfing. Not only was it bizarre trucks drove so fast over that little bouncy bridge, at all, but that the bridge was really expected to perform as a basic artery to not just that last little leg to hunting camps further up in the forest. But it was THE FREAKING HIGHWAY to the beach.
Money's being allocated for the American nation's transportation infrastructure. Even money it'll barely resemble a boondoggle for everyone? But, specifically about road. These huge things are built with nowhere to walk or put light rail or anything except wandering purposefully, aimlessly, inside our mobile thrones.
Nothing like good trees. A place paradise intermittently sleeps. At night, believe it or not. From here you could see the lights on Sanford's skyscraper beaming across Lake Monroe.
Still a Firestone and commie gas station at First and French. Like there's not 38 years in between. The library. Just lookin at the map thinking. Please, sprawl's not the best answer. Nuthin like a good truck. Wild music. Everything turned into a highway.
The Big Tree. State of the Union. Go cat go.
To Cleve and Brian and the band and
Mr. Castro's name stands in for all ours.
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