Friday, July 08, 2005

Elders can also be smart, and white.

Top of the morning gents,

Goddamn! I had 2 really good chats yesterday.

My pops phoned yesterday to check in with his number 1 prodigal son, or so he calls me. He phoned me to discuss the metal warehouse building he's having delivered and assembled on a piece of property in Northern Idaho we've already discussed in previous lectures.

A pastime of elderly educated men is waxing philosophically about topics that can never be discussed with elderly women of any color. The best thing a lad can do with his padre is simply talk, laugh and share clever quotes and quips. He especially enjoys debates rhetorical and witty discussions esoteric.

We fired multiple salvos of extraordinary IQ back and forth, but as usual he sank my battleship with the following backhanded and sagely advice regarding the care and feeding of a girl abused and neglected, hence raised by natives: my Eskimo wife.

"Karl, small minds like the one you possess constantly endeavor to be right, instead of understanding and expanding."

I may have swindled myself a masters degree in biz admin, but I'm the least educated bastard in my family and me paps rubs it in every chance he gets.

"Whenever you're arguing with your wife; the instant you discover you're right, apologize immediately."

You fuckers are luckier'n shit yer parents are miserably ignorant dumb shits. I get my ass handed to me on a platter every time I engage in intellectual discourse with me paps. Shit, I read whole encyclopedias and industry journals with the dumbass hope I can show him up.

It's okay, my father double teams me by repeating comments and jokes emitted from the shop gesticulated by my grandpa, who also enjoys outwitting their suffering bastard son who has a preference for darker girls existing way too far north of 70 lat.

Circular logic is hard to manipulate, express and debate on 2-dimensional paper with my confusing non-linear sequences of lame humor.

Later yesterday afternoon, David Craig jingled to discuss the arrangements we're scheming. Ya see, he's excited about driving across Washington on I-90 to Idaho and Montana to visit and spend time with us. He’s also quite happy to befriend my parents.

Now I’m fucked.

He's giddy with excitement about his new car; a Toyota Camry. His old POS (piece of shit) has been rattling louder than a box of hammers akin to a diesel engine. 'Cept his motor ain't a diesel, it's an old worn out Ford Taurus with a gasoline engine that has loose main bearings and eroded oil control rings.

David Craig didn’t think I was funny when I sang a chorus from the song, “Driving in my Indian Car.” That rattling old junker spewed more blue oil smoke than a carload of Mat-Su horticulturalists smoking fat chiefs and getting chinked.

I promised to keep mum how he acquired this new car, but strange and wonderful things happen when you befriend elder Scandinavians. Go figure.

Mr. Craig is now comfortably settled in the brand new old folks home in Shelton, Washington and has grieved sufficiently over the passing of his wife and son. I can tell he's again 100%, cuz he's back to lecturing me on odd topics he was personally involved in.

One topic we argue, much to my chagrin and griping, is the Nixon administration's handling of the Vietnam War, whereupon he slammed me by reminding me that it was President Kennedy that first sent Special Forces into French Indo-China, now known as Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. Kennedy feared, and rightly so, that Communism would (and did) engulf all of Southeast Asia.

The Communist epistemology is contrary to our constitutional guarantees of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This disease of tyranny we battled 40 years ago is very similar to the Islamic virus we battle today: a religious dictatorial destruction of private property, and private worship. A virulent epistemology affecting disparately poor and abysmally uneducated masses programmed to believe that the only good Christian is a dead Christian.

Who’d ever think we’d live long enough to see the final battle between our kind and the Anti-Christ? Warfare brings out the best in all of us and exterminates the qualities we find counterproductive and contrary to theorems asserted in my father’s bible: The Wealth of Nations.

Good reading: such depth of economic understanding will automatically earn you a seat at my ancestor’s dinner table and bar anytime.

I recall a sad irony: you cannot retain ancient aboriginal culture (hunter gatherer/agrarian) if you expect to grow your own wealth. Christianity and education are the perfect antidotes to all things tribal and aboriginal.

We may argue this ad infinitum, but even us blanched retard Vikings had to abandon our similarly tribal warfare practices of raping and pillaging if they too were to adopt a paradigm monotheistic, cultural meritocracy, and catch up with the rest of Europe’s industrial revolution and subsequent religious reformations.

The telecommunications industry is now currently led by a small group of Northern European nations best described as tall blond alcoholics with a persistent penchant for raping trees and burning women.

As exemplified with obsolete Viking philosophy, here in rural Alaska and elsewhere in indigently indigenous cultures around the world: Christ and Commerce was a destroying godsend of stupid ancient Suomen and Laplander traditions of warring towards riches.

The Nordic Tribes were the last resistant holdouts against Christianity, Commerce, and investment risk dispersion and the formation of guilds that could purchase Common Stock and enjoy landed gentry privilege.

Did I ever tell you killers I’m a dumbass?

I'm starting to think I’m much more like Super Dad from Unalakleet claims, an “Oochuk Negro Boy” or “Groidal 'Tard”, but tremendously blessed to be acquainted with you lads regardless.

As promised, I'll continue composing witless missives and keep you all chuckling, perchance upchucking yet warmly welcomed and encompassed, and up to date.

Don’t feel bad I even confuse myself.

If you see Mr. Craig, slug him.


Karl.

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