I have tried blogging before and quite soon enough realized that am not good at it. I am not a man of words , have no fascinating stories to tell ,no yummy recipes to share . 

Sometimes I get a little high and wish to change something in the world . But this sudden rush of blood to this brain of mine , gushes out in no time. And am back to my lazy self.

I am writing this blog , because I am tired of self censoring what I write. Everywhere I go twitter, fb , myspace , orkut ,blogspot there are the same people. Colleagues , friends , family.

I end up writing for them .  Lets see if these people find out who this belongs to. Until that happens , I want to write whatever I feel like .

If you have read this long , you have won an award for endurance. Go get yourself a nice glass of champagne !

Chercher au vent des mots de rien qui seront un tout

I just completed my first Research Paper that is now available on my Research Paper section of my blog.

The paper is titled “Why The Behemoth is Unlikely to be a Dinosaur”

In this paper I use the sexual reproduction system of dinosaur to demonstrate how the behemoth is unlikely to be a dinosaur as many Young Earth Creationist claim.

Do enjoy.

Peuan Mai Ting Gun!

Chun mai mee wai jai hai krai!

Chun  eng ben kon ngiow. Mai yak ben eek laeww!

Whether you carry a gun or have one in your home for self defense, if you are ever involved in a shooting below is some good advice to keep you out of the pokey after the fact.  Even if you are completely in the right, your words, whether written or spoken, need to be chosen very carefully.  Shooting your mouth off when you are still pumped full of adrenaline is NEVER a good idea.  Venting your emotions about the attack or the individual who attacked you to others isn’t a good idea either, as it could put them in a position of having to make statements that might not look so good for you.

Just remember, even though you are in the right, the liberals and self-proclaimed victims are out to get you.  They will twist ANYTHING you say to portray you as the bad guy.

Summary:  Shut up and lawyer-up.

It Doesn’t Have to Make Sense: It’s Just the Law – Statements

“…Written statement: a VERY BAD idea! ….”
BY K.L. JAMISON

In 1996, an unhappy consumer attacked the City Marshal of Lancaster, Missouri with a hammer.(1) The Marshal defended himself and later vented his adrenaline to the responding Sheriff stating, “I hope the son-of-a-bitch is dead.” This led to the Marshal’s conviction for involuntary manslaughter and a sentence of seven years in prison.(2) The story had a happy ending, but a story four years and tens of thousands of dollars in the making, and not a story the Marshal enjoyed very much. The Marshal might have avoided the worst part of the story had he not confused his right to remain silent with the right of free speech.

In the movie, Under Pressure, a woman tried to explain the stalking and implied threats of a neighbor. After a disorganized and unconvincing recitation of ambiguous events she lamely concludes, “I’m not a very good story teller.” Most people tell stories badly. In the aftermath of self-defense there can be a giddy stream of consciousness statement which has more to do with the effects of adrenaline than reality. The basic legal advice is “DON’T.”

The first question is, “What is a statement?” In a nation which counts exotic dancing as freedom of speech, a statement is also broadly construed. In 1996, the Missouri Supreme Court ruled that a suspect’s refusal to uncross his legs during questioning could be taken as a statement when later charged with murder.(3) In a separate death penalty case, the court found that the defendant had purchased a used car which sported the bumper sticker, “I’m the person your mother warned you about.” At trial the prosecution argued that the fact he did not remove this bumper sticker revealed something about his character. The Missouri Supreme Court ruled that it was perfectly acceptable for the state to kill this man, in part, because of his failure to remove the bumper sticker.(4) One can imagine the effect of bumper stickers bought in jest such as, “Keep Honking, I’m Reloading.” If this case does not also inspire a re-evaluation of one’s T-shirt collection, nothing will.

There is also the problem of nicknames. As of this writing, a rapper who rejoices in the stage name “C-Murder” is on trial for murder. If I were asked to defend a man named “Murder” or any variation thereof, I would charge more. Massad Ayoob testified in favor of a police officer who had killed a felon nicknamed “Snake.” Captain Ayoob slipped the nickname into his testimony which seems to have had an effect on the jury.

Written statement, a VERY BAD idea!

There is a cynical defense attorney saying: “Anything you say will be misquoted and used against you.” In the movie, My Cousin Vinnie, two, unfortunate Yankees are suspected of murder and during questioning are accused of shooting a clerk. One incredulously asked, “I shot the clerk?” This is taken down and read in court as a confession. Theater audiences laughed, defense attorneys smiled and nodded. There have even been cases where comments by other persons have been attributed to the defendant, and used against him; complete silence is the only bulwark against these mistakes.

The first statement is the 911 call. These calls are recorded and if the call sounds bad for the defendant, it will be played over and over again at trial. In one case, a man cocked his double-action revolver and went after a person who was shooting out windows. When he caught up with the threat he extended his revolver and in the process tripped the light single action trigger pull; arguably an accidental discharge. His 911 call records him saying that he thought he had just shot someone. The 911 operator, trained to keep him on the line and keep him talking, asked why he thought he had shot someone. The man replied, “Lady, I think I’m a pretty good shot.” This callous-sounding statement took accident off the table and the man had to live or die with a self-defense case. This all important introduction to law enforcement must be planned in advance.

The first words out of the caller’s mouth should be the location of the incident. If the battery then dies, or the minutes run out, or some other technological catastrophe occurs the authorities will know that something of interest is at that location, and the caller’s cell phone records can prove that he or she made the call. The next statement is the caller’s name. The core of the 911 call consists of three sentences:

“He tried to kill me.”
“I was never so scared in my life.”
“Send an ambulance.”(5)

The first sentence serves to introduce the roles of the parties, the caller is the victim, the other person the attacker. Being in reasonable fear of life or limb is a prerequisite to acting in self-defense. The phrase “I was never so scared…” is to preclude the prosecutor from claiming that the citizen never said he was scared “until he talked to a lawyer.”(6) The phrase “Send an ambulance” says that the caller does not want anyone to die.

When the police arrive, they will want a more elaborate statement; this should consist only of:

1. He attacked me.
2. I will sign a complaint.
3. There is the evidence.
4. I WANT A LAWYER.

Good Advice.

This restates part of the 911 call and points out critical evidence. One cannot expect the “CSI” team to be called out to pick up every fiber and hair. If a real forensic team routinely conducted the investigations shown on television, its budget would last about a week.

The demand for a lawyer is both the best thing one can do, and a damaging statement. Anyone who is questioned by police has the right to a lawyer; this includes victims. The problem is that the police, and potential jurors, take a demand for a lawyer as evidence of something to hide. To compound the problem, the victim’s decision to remain silent and demand for a lawyer can be used again him or her in court. In the criminal system, one does not have rights, until arrested; it doesn’t have to make sense, it’s just the law. It is a left-handed fortune that people who act in self-defense are routinely arrested. It may be called something else such as “detained” or given the “Alice in Wonderland” explanation “You’re being handcuffed for your own protection.” Whenever a person is not allowed to leave, he is placed under arrest regardless of descriptive terms. If one is arrested, generations of TV shows advise us to remain silent.

Western Missouri Shooters Alliance President Sheila Stokes-Begley employs a cell phone and CZ75 compact.

If the circumstances are ambivalent, simply state a fear of being sued, and demand a lawyer to protect against frivolous litigation. Bernard Goetz was acquitted of criminal charges in the shooting of four thugs on the subway, but was sued for $43 million and lost. Police are frequently sued by criminals and the explanation is likely to ring a bell.

Self-defense cases bring out the curious, the media in the forefront. Comments to friends will be confused and used against you, comments to family will be mistaken and used against you. Both family and friends can be subpoenaed and forced to testify against you. Comments to the media will be sensationalized and this is never good. The New York City prosecutor’s office had determined not to charge Bernard Goetz, until he made unwise remarks to the news media. At some point a statement must be made. The impression is that the earlier a statement is made, the more reliable it is. In reality, the earlier a statement is made, the less reliable it is. The effects of stress will confuse the statement and even cause temporary amnesia. Inaccuracies in the initial statement will convince authorities that the survivor is both a liar and a murderer. A lawyer must be immediately engaged to organize the statement.

A lawyer is a professional storyteller. He will not tell the client how to lie, he will tell him how to tell the truth, a more complicated process than most imagine. The statement must contain facts which track the elements of self-defense. In the case of defense of home or defense of other persons, there may be other elements as well. Knowledge of the assailant’s reputation for violence would certainly be relevant. The most important element to include is fear. A police statement is no place for macho posturing. One cannot use violence against another person unless in fear of life or limb. The survivor must go over every detail of why he or she was terrified, weak-kneed, pants-pissing afraid. If one does foul one’s pants, a not uncommon event, make sure that goes into the statement. No matter how ineffective a storyteller the survivor might be, the jury is sure to believe that.

(1)1 A City Marshal is a law enforcement officer position used in Third and Fourth Class towns in Missouri.
(2) State v Beeler, 12 S.W.3d 294 (Mo. 2000) at 296.
(3) State v Kinder, 942 S.W.2d 313 (Mo en banc 1996) at 325.
(4) State v Six, 805 S.W.2d 159 (Mo. Ban. 1991) at 167.
(5) Taken from the Western Missouri Shooters Alliance “Stay Out of Jail” card, see www.WMSA.net.
(6) A claim I have heard, even when false.

Kevin L. Jamison is an attorney in the Kansas City Missouri area concentrating in the area of weapons and self-defense.

This information is for legal information purposes and does not constitute legal advice. For specific questions you should consult a qualified attorney.

ZeroHedge picks up on the global warming fraud here.

An image I just had to borrow from a The Air Vent :

Two temperature measuring stations

How can two temperature stations that are so close to each other give such fundamentally different readings? Well, it has to do with the reliability of measurements, among other things. Follow the link to the Air Vent to find out.

My writing has become so much less of what it was supposed to be and so much more… journaling? venting? ranting? I don’t know if I should be relieved or embarassed! How can I call myself a writer when all I can bother with is sharing all my personal dating woes and frustrations. I read “good” blogs and people discuss, well, in these cases, food (because what I’ve failed to express in my own blog is my own deep affinity for food), to the utmost! They add in those typical personal tales and little characteristic tidbits to give it spunk and quirk and they include tons of photos. My blog is just a glorified and more grown up version (if I can even say that) of my old live journal!

I had goals to get back to Italy and to WRITE! – to write my personal tale in a book or to submit personal essays for magazines – do something that is worth discussing and write something that is worth reading… not this pathetic self-pitying, male-loathing and perpetually confused exercise of kiss-and-telling… and I say all this because all I could manage to think of to write about tonight is about a boy… A-. My new carrot on a fishing pole.

I thought about going to grad school. In fact, I bought myself a practice GRE to play around with… you know, to see if I had what it takes. I wanted to relocate and start a new life, gain new adventures, just as I’d done in Italy. However… I got carried away and distracted by a temporary glow in my re-association with LA. The problem is, I didn’t realize it was temporary and I made decisions that might keep me here longer than my initial plans would have… I got a car (leased it, a 3 year commitment!!). It was an exciting moment, signing a lease in MY name and making that first payment out of MY bank account (okay, maybe that part wasn’t too exciting). I needed that car to support my heavy work schedule and then suddenly, I was needing that heavy work schedule to pay for everything else BUT a return to Florence. It looks like I may not go back to Florence as soon as I’d like, and it looks like it won’t be as permanent as I’d like… after some deep and long thinking, I realized, a long visit may just be the only thing that is plausible in my near future. Then I was going out and dating… distracted again. I’m like a puppy, picked up a scent trail and tracking it down, gonna get there, gonna reach the…. ohhh, a butterfly… hmm, I’m hungry… I wonder if I could eat this.

I feel like calling myself a Writer required a certain sense of pride — I was in no way an actual writer when I began claiming the title, just drunk with a new sense of self-authority – which I think is some sort of an offshoot of pride. Even so, the moment my plane departed the Peretola airport in Firenze, I realized I forgot to check the suitcase that carried that self-worth and I touched down in Los Angeles as that same, unsure girl that I was pre-Italy. K- Confused was my nickname in Florence, it was a running joke between N- and M-B- and myself… only because I told stories of the confused life I’ve always lived, but it seems that it’s only HERE that I really embody that name.

I just don’t get why it takes so much pride and self-respect to date too. If one is willing to give themselves to someone else, then shouldn’t we be free of so much egoism? Is this where I go wrong? Why is it so terrible of me to wait by my damn phone for a response text after having had such a GREAT connection, on SO MANY levels, with someone. I KNOW he felt it, I could see it in his little skip that he did when he saw me waiting for him after work, or the smile that spreads on his face when we lock eyes. Why these games? Why his pride? What about mine? What about the pride I’ve left behind and the tiny traces of it that survive, barely swimming in the tiny fishbowl I keep it in? Why not just flush it down the toilet and give it a shot?

Maybe I just prefer the familiarity of discomfort. The raw beauty in shame. What about the vulnerability in embarrassment? Or the tingle from guilt? Or the clarity from a blush?

So what if I wanted to have 4 hours of incredible sex on two separate occasions. Why does that have to be it? Why is it a lack of my own pride and an abundance of his? I can’t stand all of this unwritten bullshit. Once upon a time, men and women courted when mutual affection was expressed (sometimes, even when it was a one way street!) and if things progressed smoothly, the professed their love for each other and married. Simple as this perspective may be, I believe a version of it can still exist somewhere under the pages of ridiculous rules that I (personally) believe the men of this world created to “excuse” themselves from their behavior. No, it shouldn’t be okay that I sat on the phone with N- and sighed, repeatedly, after saying “Men…”, as if it answered all of my questions and insecurities… but I did.

Where I work is a tightly knit group- we are like family. Not only that we are women….and nurses. We are all very nice, and supportive of each other, but when a new person comes in it is interesting. Similar to when a close friend in a group starts dating a new person. You are nice, helpful, but feeling them out. You look for any fatal flaws- both dreading and hoping you find them. You want to find them only to save heartache later down the road.

You all know what I am talking about.

I just finished day 4 of working. Ugh. Considering I am ‘as needed’ in my job status- this is a lot of hours. There has been another firing at work, so they are asking for more coverage from us “oldies” until the “newbies” get trained.  Fun huh?   The firing that just took place of a full-time RN was needed- she has been given too many chances, and was kinda crazy. Good Riddance.

Okay, so onto New Girl. I can’t stand her. I am not like this- I like people. I give people chances. I inherently like people. I have tried for two 8 hour shifts to like her. I can’t find one fucking thing. Oh, did I mention that she is pregnant? Yeah, icing on the cake. So for the past two days I have ALSO had to endure the “oh- weren’t you trying?” etc. etc.  She is also and RN and a friggin’ KNOW IT ALL. I can’t stand nurses that act like they know more than you- especially when they are on the job only a few weeks. Nurses that roll their eyes while you are giving them RULES need to have them punched out of their sockets. (seriously you must let a doctor be AWARE that you told a patient to go to the ER…not just tell them to go b/c you think they might be having a stroke. WTF?!?!?)

Did I mention that she blames everything on “the baby’. I don’t really know how far along she is- and I really don’t want to know. That might show that I am interested in hearing about it. I am SO NOT. She is probably 20wks? She is larger in stature, so it is hard to tell.

Let me also mention that she (pretty much purposefully) called a patient “Mr. Sausage”. Okay, that was pretty funny- except for the fact that she started to say his name (started with an S), then said Sausage. Seriously. She is slightly crazy. Then she walked around telling everyone what she did, and called it “Pregnancy Brain” and saying that the baby is eating my brain. Then proceeded to take a 30 minute break to eat…at 9am. Took another at 11. I was supposed to go to lunch then, but she stated she HAD to feed her baby.

I can’t argue with that huh? Bitch. Several of the other girls at work said that I needed to tell her I had to feed my baby too. My Shit Baby. LOL!!!!

She was PISSING ME OFF.

Now I get to pack to go to my Mom’s tomorrow. YEAH!

Zao Wou-Ki, Vent (1954, huile sur toile)

Le voilà qui circule à l’instant –  non, depuis quelques jours,

L’imprévu l’aggravé – se ressent

Nous concurrence fragment par fracture

L’avant l’après, la houle avale goulûment

Ample sans intersection, en plein visage pourtant

Formelle accueillante – malgré

Les naufragés que nous sommes

Les chutes et les bris de verre qui nous saignent

Caresse giflante gifle apaisante c’est

Une désertion

La possibilité de s’extraire

Plus loin qu’au-delà, plus en dehors qu’ailleurs,

La possibilité d’exprimer, d’exproprier nos corps

Le souffle béant prend la lividité vide de pensée pour l’arrachement d’un accès

Hors des torpeurs imaginables des chaleurs imaginaires hors des chairs familières

Il gémit nous gémissons comment intégrer l’origine à ce point de dissolution de

Révolution nous suffoquons il s’affole le désordre nous omet

Lorsqu’il ingère la substance confinée il s’informe et s’accumule

Jusqu’au désir inverse d’anéantir ce qu’il est

Diffère-t-il au jour le jour

Où tout correspond  mélangeant

Les larmes invalidées

Nous pouvons nous défaire

Mais jamais quelque soit la rage, l’effort,

Jamais véritablement

Nous délivrer.

]]> http://pugnaciouspriest.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/where-i-be-pugnacious/ Sun, 22 Nov 2009 23:25:44 +0000 Pugnacious Priest http://pugnaciouspriest.wordpress.com/2009/11/22/where-i-be-pugnacious/

Pugnacious: inclined to quarrel or fight readily; quarrelsome; belligerent; combative.  Dictonary.com

When I found myself in a Vent over this weekend where a long diatribe of the conversation were negative remarks towards women.  Not just one little comment,  but they were egging each other on,  each line more offensive then the other.  I could have sat there like a good little girl and taken it. Not bitten,  not reacted, not defended myself,  or reminded them that there were ladies in the channel and to rein the conversation in. I could have left the vent if I found it so offensive.  Did I stay silent?  No way. 

I turned an insult back on them, and I felt their hackles raised over the airways.   “So its ok for you to have a go at girls,  but you can’t take it if it’s directed to boys?” I asked – extremely outnumbered.

One guys excuse for their behaviour was that it was ‘normal’  – I had asked where all the gentlemen were because they certainly were not in this channel.

I don’t think I was out of line – for me not to remind them that they were being inappropriate would have meant that I was approving of  their behaviour,  and I think that people can need reality checks  – no one knows that they are doing something wrong unless they get told.

Did I go on a female lib rant?  No.  I didn’t need to,  I just needed to remind them that they were going to far.    Did it work?.  I think so,  they didn’t say anything further along that line as least while I was in the channel.

I got a pst from what I assume was the only other girl in the channel glad that I had stuck up for myself  – and I’d do it again,  because if that is what it takes to make it a more pleasant environment for me to play in,  then I am going to bite.  It doesn’t have to be an in your face  ”respect my authority” rant, but  I do believe  that standing up when things are not right, can be  as important as doing what is right.