How does one write this?

         
                                                                  How does one write this? Me being Guilty????
                                                                              by MWD.

                           Please Note: this writing took over a wseek to place here. So sorry, dearest reader, for the jerkiness of this entry.

                           Its events will haunt me til my dying day and rightfully so.

                           Early morn yesterday I had to bury my dog of many years. This dog was big. 130 lbs.

                           I got home from work about 1:15 AM June 18th.

                           I went thru the normal rituals of letting each of my dogs out. While doing so, I refilled food dishes and replenished water for them.

                            Nuq seemed okay. He trotted out the door, tail wagging,  and headed for my small backyard 150 gallon pond like he has always done in hot weather.

                            He drew his last breathe in this 18 inch deep space, yet its currently holding less that 12 inches of water.

                             This is where he died just twenty four hours ago as i began this writing. My mind is swerving down avenues a plenty. Areas vast as my working guilt could have played a hand at his death via working hours or my simple displaying a better life at the hours of between 230 in the m0rning to 430 AM when I'd have them out as others were asleep, heading toward their day as I'd end mine.

                                Mind, mine, reeling for some chance at rationality at Nanuq's death, finding the sounds of sirens and apparitions causing  me to take hold of my other dog, FRODO, and finding a  better life for her.



                             Could have been a heart attack, loneliness, neglect on my part given the hours I work.

                             I had tried to find him a better place to live. I tried several times to gain him a home on farms.

                            Nuq was a 130lb  Great Pyrenees.

                             This dog would toss his arms over my shoulders and look down at me. He was big. He loved me.

                           And yes, he bit me a few times as well as others. I guess it was my stubbornness that didn't have him killed years ago as he did so.

                        Granted, in all honesty, Frodo, my grand and glorious, most intelligent dog ever in my fifty one years livingm loves to Sweep behind others close to me, and nip their asses. My friend Michelle K described Frodo as AssBiter. and that's accurate. Frodo, does take a nibble....

                                 To memories of Nuq....

                               I remember his days while growing at 3/4 a pound a day caused awkward  physical behaviour as we'd feed his bowl 1 and a half pounds a day of food to fuel him.

                                He stumbled about with  each step he took as a child under my care.
                             cheering his triumph as he climbed to couch level.

                                     And as a puppy, though larger in stature eclipsing, Frodo, the ALPHA in my realm, she being the most intuitive and  intlligent
                                           Unlike Frodo, Nuq didn't eat rocks, pigeon

                              Washing him was like washing a sub compact car. He so loved water splashing over him as well on his undercarriage. And when he splashed dried, water was felt over ten yards in distance. I so remember him looking at me, loving the splashing water against his frame.

                           Every encounter with Nuq was like being greeted by that of an adult. He'd tossed himself at me like Dino of the Flintstones and hug me like a human. He'd place fore paws on my shoulders and look down at me.

                              He did this til the day he died, and walked toward my tiny pond..


                               Imagine panic filling me finding a good dog dead.

                              I tugged at his neck after calling his name repeatedly. No response.  I placed a hand on his torso. Nothing up nor down, nor sideways. Pulling him out by his collar, my mind will never forget the thud sound of his head hitting the sand....
                        And his Death was from my failure to find him a better place to live....








                           


                           


                       

                           

                           

                         

PLEASE STAND BY: WE'RE CUMMING TO YOU lIVE...

                                                   PLEASE STAND BY: WE'RE CUMMING TO YOU live...
                                                                                             by
                                                                                 Mark William Darus.

             In all my decades of writing fiction, I could never have said it better than that of The Tubes did in 1979 about how America took mass media into their lives. I have given myself these last two plus years to write my truth about humanity <my search to answer a single question: That being::: What Is Human>>> and the shared writing of others.

                  Live footage of death of wars would meet our dinner tables at the six oclock news broadcasts during the 1970's.  Horror of war. I can't honestly say I remember my older sisters expressions on this. Truthfully, I don't remember anything at that time as they danced across a black and white TV screen.



                  The Media took control of the wars America would go into. Perhaps fueled by that 1%  controllers of America's holding of over 90-plus% our Counties wealth saw a need after Vietnam to see a further need to gain money  down the road.

                      Seriously speaking, Does not our Country display itself as the beacon of Democracy while all it really wishes is to preserve the strongest sense of Greed  whilst Capitalism directs eachand every one of us down avenue we'd call a loved one a hero.

Consider this fragile persons death as a gain.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corporate-owned_life_insurance

Consider this:

How much are you, FUCK THAT NOISE, WHAT ARE THE TINIEST OF CHILD  BORN FROM HEROIN MOM, THE DRUNK BEATEN BABY IN SCOTLAND, the smallest of premies born at a less than two pounds....


              In Oregon USA, two dead during yet another school shooting.

              Fuck the shooters.

                I wish in my next blog entry to list the names of the many taken in the last 5 years here in the home of the brave.

The Media and not the FBI give these killers memorable names abd such...


find your happy place,
hugs to you all,
Mark/ SLAM TRACTOR






                           





                   I believe The Tubes knew it would grow further.\ Back in 1979.

The words:

Listen boys and girls
About the other world
It's just a day job
Night job
Odd job
Nose job
Hand job
Blow job
Rack job
Snow job
Boring 9-to-5 job
Rather have a knob job

Things get too inertial
No time for commercials
I'd rather be a clone
I guess I'm going home
To visit Kojak
Gong Show
Happy Days
Adam-12
Edge Of Night
Love Of Life
Merv and Mike
Good Times
Make A Deal
Charlie's Angels
Family Feud

Feeling so much thinner
I need a TV dinner

I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore

TV suicide
TV suicide
What a lovely way to die
It's a television suicide

Please stand by
We're coming to you live
'Cause we got news
Hot news
Flash news
Trash news
Funny news
Stupid news
Comprehensive overviews
Eyewitness TV news
Brought to you by Gucci shoes

This one is so juicy
We're pre-empting Lucy

Coming down the street
The sound of running feet
He's at the front door
Back door
Side door
Cellar door
First floor
Second floor
Third floor
Bedroom door
Throws himself across the floor
Turns it on to Channel 4

Stay tuned to this channel
For our all-star panel

I used to know him
He seemed like a regular guy

TV suicide
TV suicide
What a lovely way to die
It's another case of telecide

TV suicide
TV suicide
What a lovely way to die
It's a television suicid

FEE Waybill and The TUBES.



       
                                                                                             

‘Let’s go out back and I’ll beat your ass’: An American Judge Yells at a Public Defender.

           

                                       ‘Let’s go out back and I’ll beat your ass’: An American Judge Yells at a Public Defender.
                                                          by Mark William Darus.

a bit of mood music for you to read with.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqTOf0wZvGs

                                      This video is something else;
http://www.nydailynews.com/news/national/florida-judge-allegedly-attacks-lawyer-courtroom-article-1.1815085

                   
                                     Land of the free and home of the Brave! Right?

                                     Don't Tread on Me, no? True origin no fully known, yet used many times in American history. Notably referred to as the Gadsden Flag with a snake.

                                     From My Cold, Dead Hands! Charlton Heston, in a  NRA gathering in Colorado after the Columbine incident.

                                      Wow, nice to know we've grown from typical Post Office rampages, far too often and mundane School shootings, snipers having sport (DC Sniper, Brenda Ann Spencer amongst many other  collegiate Bell Tower leagues,) to publicly elected officials going bonkers and going violent.

                                     Just another example of a countries spiritual, mental, economic breakdown?

                                     Rome Fell, didn't it?

                                     Is this the beginning of an up-and-coming trend in the United States? Where elected Judges are going to be  based more on physical prowess than intelligence? For them to be accelerated incarnations of Stalin  with an Iron Fist more so than the likes of Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson and Lincoln?

                                    Okay, maybe Lincoln wasn't the greatest example, but he did stand for a belief that I believe Americans have not had from a president in far too many decades.

                                   
                                      Imagine being in a Court of Law...

                                       Most of us have been there at some point. Be it for contested traffic tickets, divorce, or other things.

                                      Beautifully stained woodwork surrounding, acoustic tiles eliminating echos, the beefy bailiff with hand on holster, a tranquil looking brunette stenographer taking everything spoken into hard copy.

                                       And, escalation ensues.

                                       Those in audience: Pupils open wider as two highly educated men increase the  pitch and volume of their voices.

                                        Like bullets cleaving a peaceful eve in a suburban town square...

                                         ‘Let’s go out back and I’ll beat your ass’ an Elected Florida Judge proclaims.

                                         I'm quite certain, as I think most of us would,  the Public Defender didn't seriously believe he'd be bitch-slapped by a Judge in a hallway leading to the Judges Chamber.

                                          And so it goes...

                                           The Judge is now seeking Anger Management Treatment. Nice.  Isn't that like a drunk driver, profoundly guilty of manslaughter while wasted and driving checking himself into Rehab just before his trial date comes?

                                            America, Still my country: How should we treat this judge?

                                            Okay, so I would like to be a share holder in the security surveillance companies that are going to install cameras in all the hallways across Americas courts. Much coin to be made here sports fans.

                              I wish to thank you for reading this.

                              This goes out and is dedicated to a friend I'll codename: Bright Eyes.

                             Mark William Darus. 06042014

Photo credit: Georgiann.