Please watch Bob Mori’s terrifying video mid-story

I am a flexitarian, I guess.

The reason I try to pigeonhole myself – although I don’t think you’re supposed to eat pigeons are you – is because I am a vegetarian, except when it comes to beef burgers and kebabs.

Yes, flexitarian gives me dignity. It could even become a lifestyle. You see, I’m flexible as far as my omnivorous gnawings are concerned. I can simply take meat or leave it.

And most of the time, I’d rather leave it because, the truth is, I just don’t like it. I don’t like the texture, the blood, the pipes in liver, the smell, the chewiness.

And I abhor the slaughter of it.

You see, once in my younger days I worked in a slaughterhouse on the outskirts of Manchester in the North-west of England.

It was a disgusting, howling, metal grinding hellhole of grotesque Victoriana down a bloody pitted and rickety lane. Blood-stained men in vests and vast aprons turned the colour of red wine, red-faced men, bluff and hearty laughing out loud and cursing each other with a kind of meat-sweat madness. They were uncouth and uncaring by the bucket-of-blood load.

The abattoir itself was a cacophony of screams, reeling spinning meat hooks, a choreography of slaughter on the sticky killing floor steaming in the smell of blood and cheap disinfectants.

But I was a boy of the 1970s British city. I was seventeen, chain-smoking, beer swilling – and I had my first driving license. And United Cattle Products supplied me with a reeking slaughterhouse van. I drove it like a maniac, offal, cows heels, bellies, heads and blood smashing and splashing around in the back like Heronymous Bosch had chosen UCP van interiors as his new canvases.

***

Then at the end of the 1980s I escaped the rigours of big city newspapers and moved to the countryside where I became a pastoral writer. Peace and quiet, shepherds and lost sheep, ale by the fireside and long tales of red skies and starry starry nights.

But it wasn’t like that … it was a madness of noise, the constant squealing of pigs in their shit-strewn pens, the acrid over-powering ammonia smell of chickens in their fields of foul.

Animals packed cheek by jowl in trucks, faces and noses searching out cracks in the metal for air and light.

At that time Myxomatosis was devastating the UK’s rabbit population … those still surviving sat by the roadside, eyes and heads swollen and pustulating, livid and agonised.

And Mad Cow Disease was just around the corner.

But still the hoorays, the Henries and the Harriets galloped through the lanes for country miles, their skin smeared and a bit drunk. Killer hounds baying at their heels.

The foxes fled in terror.

The Hunt has no respect for anything living, except themselves. They look down on all creatures from their elevated leather saddles. Disgusting.

Once they tried to cross my land after a fox that was heroically scything through a field of yellow… my land, as the crow flies, was the quickest way to get to tear it limb from limb. I got my pitchfork and stood my ground. Finally they galloped off trying to find a gap in the hedges. The Hunt hated me in the pub that night.

Perhaps that naughty wily fox had eaten some of their hooray eggs. A medieval and tortured death was the sentence they’d passed down on it.

Later I started to see badgers with their brains blown out by the side of the road … the perceived countryside wisdom was that the badger population was becoming depressed and they were blowing their own heads off and throwing themselves under passing trucks,

It was always said with a haughty ruddy, toothless snigger from a pot-bellied farmer. Then he’d wink.

Must have thought I was the village idiot.

***

After all these years I started to understand what we do to animals in the name of food and sometimes sport.

By now I was living in Delhi and there was a KFC just around the corner. As a travel journalist, I knew that McDonald’s was a ‘safe haven’ for travellers, homogenised food, coffee, warm and clean bathrooms.

KFC was a close runner. And the severed wings, legs and breasts were quite toothsome in their breadcrumbs and spices. I was also shocked by how big a chicken’s nuggets were! And don’t mention the length of their goujons!

Protection of animals is enshrined as a fundamental in India particularly cattle protection and cow slaughter prohibition.

Yet the streets around the KFC restaurant were haunted by killer-eyed scrawny dogs, the sewers were full of snuffling pigs, the shops filled with lugubrious and cud-chewing cows.

And then as I chomped my way through my smiling bucket of severed chicken limbs and bits and pieces, I saw this in a greasy imported three-week old copy of The Guardian:

‘KFC suppliers cram birds into huge waste-filled factories, breed and drug them to grow so large that they can’t even walk, and often break their wings and legs. At slaughter, the birds’ throats are slit and they are dropped into tanks of scalding-hot water—often while they are still conscious. It would be illegal for KFC to abuse dogs, cats, pigs, or cows in these ways.’

It was a statement from PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, the largest animal rights organization in the world.

PETA also said that roughly ‘One billion chickens killed each year for KFC’s buckets are crammed by the tens of thousands into excrement-filled sheds that stink of ammonia fumes. The birds’ legs and wings often break because they’re bred to be too top-heavy and because workers carelessly shove them into transport crates and shackles’.

I sucked on a chicken bone as I read it.

***

Many reports in the past have said that nearly all the chickens reared for KFC are fast-growing breeds – 30 days to reach their slaughter weight. The growth rate has  made health problems for birds worse, including the ability to move – and liver and heart failure.
One in ten KFC chickens were also said to suffer hock burn caused by ammonia from the waste of other birds.

KFC is not alone.

Most of the chicken meat served by the major fast-food brands comes from animals who live in cramped and barren ‘hangers’ without sunlight.

Many chickens suffer from lameness and skin lesions. Intensive farming methods also often rely on antibiotics as a quick-fix to keep animals alive.

***

KFC has however been praised by animal welfare campaigners recently for its willingness to make public the information in its animal welfare report. The company tracks progress in tackling various welfare measures, including mortality rates, antibiotic use and stock density.

KFC’s vegan “chicken” burger has also received an accolade at a vegan food awards event.

And this year, in the World Animal Protection ‘pecking order 2021′, KFC, out of all eight global brands assessed, is the clear leader.

So, things are improving. But enough? Not for many campaigners.

***

I just found this interesting … Harland David Sanders from Henryville, Indiana, became the Colonel with his showman’s moustache and Southern-style flannel ‘whites’. Harland was an entrepreneur who been a farmer, street-car conductor, railroad fireman and insurance salesman.

In his 40s he took over a service station in Kentucky and decide road-side food was a good idea. Because of this eventually, he was nick-named the chicken colonel. That was way back in 1935.

And just 25 years before I joined the hellhole of the UCP and the abattoirs, Sanders began franchising his chicken business. In 1964, with more than 600 franchised outlets, he sold his interest in the company for $2 million.

And the threshing machine of fast food was confirmed as the business to be in if you were hungry for success and money.

And we omnivores were very happy for him, I’m sure.

***
Many studies have shown that meat is just no good for us humans and could be killing us. The human body is apparently intended to function on plant-based foods full of fibre, antioxidants, unsaturated fat, essential fatty acids, phytochemicals and cholesterol-free protein.

But the simple fact is that many big brand restaurants are denying billions of birds the chance to see sunlight, grow at a healthy rate or behave naturally so that we get our daily dose of flesh.

This is the real flesh-eating disease that we think is so good for us.

But why do we think this if it’s actually so bad for us? Is meat (it’s a real treat) in fact in the same category as cigarettes and alcohol?

Here are some figures to chew over: Fast food was a 473 billion pound industry back in 2019 and is growing and alcohol swallowed more than a trillion pounds of our hard-earned dosh.

And another 800 billion went up in smoke.

Big deadly industries making big money out of our certain demise.

Funnily enough – funny on the dark side – the death-care industry is worth far in excess of 100 billion pounds too.

Here some more startling figures:

We humans are far outnumbered by farm animals. So, why are we at the top of the food chain?

The Economist once worked out that the combined total of chickens (19 billion), cows (1.5 billion), sheep (1 billion) and pigs (1 billion) living at any one time is three times higher than the number of people.

And it’s because we eat an estimated 50 billion chickens and about 1.5 billion pigs are killed for sausages and other things. Half a billion sheep are taken to the abattoir every year too. And then there are goats!

And what about seafood?

Is something fishy going on here? And that is another story …

#peta #animalcruelty #kfc #macdonalds #chickens #farming #thehunt

VIDEO INTERVIEW INSIDE …

LA film-maker Bob Mori and journalist Leigh G Banks discuss a book that, on the surface, is a bit of a Malibu-boohoo. But in reality, just like Dylan’s Point Dume home, it could be a real hidden gem.

A few weeks ago I was asked to review a new Dylan book focusing on Bob’s life in Malibu inside the grand folly he built on Birdview Avenue, overlooking the Pacific.

Because we were on the road, I had the book delivered to an address in the UK. It was the simplest thing to do.

Two thousand miles and many days later I picked up Bob Dylan’s Malibu from the small detached 1930s house in the suburbs of Manchester, my home town.

Then we headed out to Shropshire and settled into our rented oak beamed cottage.

It was there I pealed back the books glossy cover with its stark rear-view image.

And I have to say I was disappointed.

Dylan’s Malibu is a large print volume of Martin Newman’s experiences with Bob in the 1970s. Martin describes himself as a US historian, designer, craftsman and collector. Good credentials, but what I thought would be fascinating and revealing was actually perfunctory, under-written and, yep, frustrating.

On a first read it just didn’t get to the point, it seemed doomed from page one. Point Doomed, so to speak

It just didn’t give the insights I wanted about a time when Bob’s career was trundling along like an old gypsy caravan.

It was also about the time his marriage to Sara was already going 90 miles an hour down a dead end street.

One of the world’s most glamorous couples appeared to spending money hand-over-fist creating an extravagant dream home that was rumoured to be becoming a nightmare.

I had to put Martin’s book down for a while, unsure what to do with it. I didn’t want to insult Martin. But I really didn’t want to review either.

***

Four days later I picked up again. And I immediately saw what is wrong with it.

But I also saw why it should be taken seriously by us Dylan fans.

It is truly an unusual insight into a Dylan creative storm on top of a ‘cliffside’ with the Pacific undulating beneath it.

I realised Martin’s book is actually like time and the bride… it runs backwards. Sadly, not by design but by default.

The editorial ‘cure’ is simple though: Just move the last few chapters to the beginning of the book and it works.

For these are the chapters that are full of gold, hand-made tiles and crazy door knobs. These chapters are the access to Dylan’s glorious edifice of folly, imagination, his grand, probably stoned, design.

And here you have a magical book. Up front!

In this way all the little snippets – like Bob’s two dollar thrift shop fedora and his yellow tour jet nicknamed the Banana – suddenly fall in to place and become fascinating.

Right now Dylan’s Malibu is Edlis Cafe Series own folly.

It lacks relevant pictures, only one or two of Bob and of Martin himself and others that carry little weight because they are photos of ‘something similar.

This all said, it really is a Dylan book worthy of any fan’s shelves and head space.

So buy it, forgive it and enjoy it.

And it read it back to front.

We at The Society want to wish Alan Bennett, brother of ‘lost boy’ Keith, a speedy recovery after his recent heart attack.

By all accounts Alan is doing well after a having a stent fitted a couple of weeks.

And we send all our best wishes and support to him.

With his usual Northern bluffness Alan had this to say about his health: ”To steal a line from a Peter Kaye sketch ‘My heart is on it’s arse.’

“I suffered a heart attack and had to have a stent fitted in the right side. While they were fixing that they found the artery on the left side of my heart was also narrow so I need a stent there as well.

“I am now pain free and on the mend and, hopefully, after the next procedure I will be completely fixed, or as close as is possible.

“A worrying time but, fingers crossed, all will be well. Thanks to all the staff at the hospital.”

A worrying time indeed.

Editor at The Society, Leigh said: “I have known Alan from a distance since my time at the Sunday Express when they had offices in Manchester. The news-desks in the building on Gt Ancoats Street supported Alan and his family and their unflagging determination to uncover the true of Keith’s disappearance at the despicable hands of Ian Brady and Myra Hindley.

“Since then we have communicated with him about a number of things, not least his powerful writing about Keith. We are grateful that he’s allowed us to use it.”

In recent months Alan has been working with Priti Patel to change the law to unlock the final secrets of Moors Murderer Ian Brady.

But we are still waiting for the Home Secretary to bring in legislation which will force the serial killer’s solicitor to give police access to personal paperwork.

Police for decades have been refused permission to examine the documents in two combination-locked briefcases left by Brady after his death in 2017.

One way or the other Brady and Hindley have cast a shadow over Alan’s life for more than half a century.

The chronology of horror and heartbreak

1963: Brady and Hindley murder 16-year-old Pauline Reade. Pauline was their first victim as far as anybody knows. Four months later they killed John Kilbride, 12

1964: They abduct and murder Keith, also aged 12.

On Boxing Day Lesley Ann Downey, aged ten, became a victim.

1965: Brady and Hindley murdered Edward Evans, aged 17.

They were arrested after Hindley’s brother-in-law, David Smith, tipped off police.

1966: Convicted of murdering John Kilbride, Lesley Ann Downey and Edward Evans, and jailed for life.

1987: Hindley confesses to two more murders, including Keith Bennett’s, prompting Brady to also confess.

Searches of Saddleworth Moor lead to the discovery of Pauline Reade’s remains in a shallow grave. Keith’s body is not found.

2002: Hindley dies. She was 60 years old.

2017: Brady dies, aged 79. Before his death he asked for two locked briefcases in his room at Ashworth high security mental hospital to be put in storage.

A judge refuses to give the police permission for a warrant to examine the briefcases.

2019: Further pleas from Keith’s younger brother Alan to Brady’s solicitor Robin Makin go .

2021: Home Secretary Priti Patel says she will change the law to allow a search warrant to be issued. 

#myra #hindley #ianbrady #keithbennett #alanbennett #pritipatel #Ashworthprison #saddleworthmoor #robinmakin #paulinereade #edwardevans #Lesley Ann Downey #John Kilbride #leighgbanks

Ed Ricketts said: ‘We must remember three things. I will tell them to you in the order of their importance. Number One and first in importance, we must have as much fun as we can with what we have. Number Two, we must eat as well as we can, because if we don’t we won’t have the health and strength to have as much fun as we might. And Number Three and third and last in importance, we must keep the house reasonably in order, wash the dishes and such things. But we will not let the last interfere with the other two.’

CANNERY ROW ED’S FEEL-GOOD RULES FOR HIS ‘ALIENATED’ CHILDREN

Ed Ricketts was killed by a train which smashed into his beat-up old sedan as he crossed the Southern Pacific Railway track on his way to a market in New Monterey.

He was going to buy a steak for his dinner.

After he and his car had been impaled on the cow-catcher of the Del Monte Express Ed hung on for a few days in hospital. Then he died.

His skull was out of shape, his lungs were punctured and just about every bone in his body was broken.

Edward Flanders Robb Ricketts was 50 years old and was comfortably unknown as a marine biologist, ecologist, and philosopher in the 1930s and 40s. He lived in the shack he had turned into a laboratory on Ocean View Avenue in Old Monterey’s rusty and dilapidated Cannery Row.

In 1922 Ed married Anna Barbara Maker in a quiet ceremony. He began to call her “Nan” and along the way they had a son and two daughters.

They lived a hand-to-mouth boon-docks way of life but Ed was happy.

Then they got divorced.

Ed was left alone in his shack and he missed his children.

He turned to drink. This meant that he had very little money but he kept on keeping on and looked after his children, albeit from a distance.

He was buried away at Monterey City Cemetery and there wasn’t much left to talk of, apart from the marine specimen jars on shelves in the shack and some rattle snakes he kept in cages for study purposes.

But he did leave something behind that still matters today … three rules for his estranged children.

And 70 years later, these rules are something all of us could teach our children, no matter how hard we are fighting to keep in touch with them.

Here they are as narrated by his best friend, writer John Steinbeck.

“We must remember three things. I will tell them to you in the order of their importance. Number One and first in importance, we must have as much fun as we can with what we have. Number Two, we must eat as well as we can, because if we don’t we won’t have the health and strength to have as much fun as we might. And Number Three and third and last in importance, we must keep the house reasonably in order, wash the dishes and such things.

“But we will not let the last interfere with the other two.”

#edricketts #canneryrow #johnsteinbeck #parentalalienation

After four years in amazing Slovakia, Leigh and Andrea had to return to the UK for a while. This is a vlog of their strange journey through Slovakia, Austria, Germany, Belgium and France. Along the way they learnt to hate the woman on the Satnav, got lost in the woods, intimidated by the police, a parking warden dressed as Heidi and an Irishman who wanted a Cornish pasty in a service station.

Leigh and Rodney talk about the terrifying fires on the Costa de Sol, expat taxation problems in Spain – is Portugal better? – Leigh is attacked by a fly and much, much more

SEE VIDS AT THE END OF THE STORY

Finally, after 17 years, Bob Dylan’s coruscating and ultimately hip Like a Rolling Stone has lost its crown as the world’s greatest song.

In the first update of Rolling Stone magazine’s  500 Greatest Songs of All Time since 2004 Bob’s work of sheer genius has rolled off the top spot and landed at No 4.

Otis Redding’s anthem Respect has shimmied into the No 1 spot, a lot to do with Aretha Franklin’s re-working of it in to a soulfully magical song of empowerment for the women of the world.

In the last list Respect was at No 5, behind Like a Rolling Stone, John Lennon’s Imagine, Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On and The Rolling Stones’ Can’t Get No Satisfaction.

That’s no longer in the top 10 and the highest rated Rolling Stones song is Gimme Shelter at 13.

Rounding out the top five today is Nirvana’s classic grunge track Smells Like Teen Spirit.

To make up the new list Rolling Stone asked more than 250 artists and musicians, critics and music industry figures for their views.

Aretha’s version of Respect is about a young, confident, independent woman telling her man that she doesn’t see any why he disrespects her and it became one of the most famous female empowerment anthems of all time.

In its original cantation Otis’s version was a sweaty wild sexy romp! Brilliant!

The Queen of Soul’s version was just as brilliant but perhaps more meaningful, a battle cry of the civil rights movement in the United States.

On the other hand Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone is a song of social conscience too, an analysis of society’s have-and-have-nots.

It’s vitriolic, youthfully angry, finger pointing with Beat poet images and Spector-like noise smashing through walls like an out-of-control diplomat’s car. It even attacks the decadence of Andy Warhol’s mangled tin can art movement.

It also comes at a time that Bob is facing what we all hope are scurrilous accusations about his early life and fame.

And, of course, if Rolling Stone couldn’t be bothered to update their ‘greatest’ list for 17 years then things will have changed.

But I say here and now that Bob’s song is still the greatest one ever written, in my mind anyway.

#bobdylan #arethafranklin #otisredding #nirvana #respect #likearollingstone #rollingstones #rollingstone

1. We’ll find the fire-starters, say officials as Spain’s killer mountain blaze blisters on

2. ‘We’re ready to leg it’ says Rodney as 3,000 FLEE Spain’s Sierras wildfire – exclusive pictures

3. Forces move in as Costa del Sol mountains blazes drives 2,500 more from their homes

UPDATE 16 9 2021:

This grainy picture taken from a distance by CeO of airtvinternational from the balcony of his home on the edge of Marbella shows the aftermath of the wildfires that raged in the mountains near his home.

It’s just too hot still, he says, to go up into the mountains and there is still a clear danger as the days continue to be hot and dry.

UPDATE 13 9 2021:

Soldiers have joined forces against the worst wildfire to hit Spain’s Costa del Sol in memory. It has been raging for a six days now..

‘Squaddies’ from the military base of Moron threw in with more than 300 firefighters and 41 water-dropping aircraft as the flames got higher and wider.

The wildfire in the Malaga province has ripped through 7,000 hectares of forest and led to more evacuations, bringing the total number of residents displaced to around 2,500.

Authorities have evacuated almost 1,500 residents from the towns of Jubrique, Genalguacil and four other villages on Sunday. More than 1,000 other people had been evacuated from the resort town of Estepona, popular among tourists and foreign expats.

Despite the reinforcements one firefighter said the blaze was still “out of control” and called for more boots on the ground to battle the flames.

“I don’t see enough deployed personnel,” Rafael Fanega told The Associated Press. “Some may see it differently, but that’s how I see it.”

UPDATE: 12 9 2021:

As the wildfire in Spain burned for the fourth day officials said that it was most likely started deliberately.

Andalucia’s regional forest fire agency confirmed that more than 400 firefighters and 41 helicopters are now fighting the fire near some of the Costa del Sol best-known resort.

Carmen Crespo, regional environment chief, said that the flames were most likely started deliberately. Andalusia’s regional president and Juanma Moreno, vowed law enforcement would bring the criminals to justice no matter how long it takes.

The fire began on Wednesday and was fuelled by the high temperatures and strong winds in the area.

UPDATE: 10 9 2021:

Worsening weather conditions forced firefighters to flee the wildfire near a popular Costa del Sol resort.

Already the blaze has driven more than 1,000 people from their homes and killed an emergency worker.

Andalucia ordered the withdrawal of most of its firefighters as strong winds and high temperatures formed a dangerous fire cloud. One nearby resident said: “It’s just too hot to handle, we’re in our house maybe two miles away but the heat is so intense it’s unbearable. Your hearts must go out to the firemen up there.”

Since starting on Wednesday evening, the blaze has burned through around 3,600 hectares (8,896 acres) of forest in the mountainous Sierra Bermeja above Estepona, a Mediterranean resort favoured by British tourists and retirees.

A firefighter has died battling the wildfire that rages through Sierra Bermaja in southern Málaga and it has been confirmed that he was 44 years old and from Almería. He had been involved in at least six campaigns with the region’s forest fire team.

Meanwhile, in the exclusive security zone of La Zagaleta, Benahavis, where homes cost millions, water planes and helicopter are constantly seen. The area is home to Putin, Rod Stewart, Simon Cowell and Hugh Grant.

A thousand people have now been evacuated in Spain’s southern province of Málaga as the wildfire blisters Estepona, Benahavís, Jubrique and Genalguacil, Andalusian emergency services have said.

It broke out in the mountains of Sierra Bermeja, within the municipal limits of Jubrique. Preventive evacuations happened in Estepona’s Forest Hill and Las Abejeras residential areas in the early hours of Thursday, and by the afternoon the flames had reached Benahavís, where a residential development called Montemayor was evacuated.

These exclusive pictures show the intensity of the fires in the Sierra Mountains in Andalusia.

Almost 500 people have been evacuated in Malaga’s Sierra Bermeja.

The fires began at about 10pm on Wednesday hitting Estepona, Jubrique and Genalguacil.

The Carmen pavilion in Estepona was being used a sanctuary for many of those who were forced to flee. But there were fears about a petrol station in Estepona on the AP-7.

In Jubrique, which was hit by a major blaze earlier this summer that burned more than 300 hectares, some 18 forest firefighters are battling the flames.

The flames in the Sierra Bermeja, are visible from other towns in the Genal valley giving concern to residents as the conditions are very windy.

Rodney Hearth, CeO at AirTV International https://airtv.international/ who supplied the pictures, said: “It’s horrendous, the water planes are constantly flying over our house – but the blaze is getting closer and closer. We considered legging it … the fires are very frightening and are blighting the lives of residents. What a tragedy to hit this amazing country at this time.”

#spain #fires #malaga #sierras #forest #marbella #estepona #Jubrique #Genalguacil.

Bob Mori is an artist I really admire. His output is prolific, his imagination mushrooms like a cloud, incises like hard rain.

He is a child of the late 70s, and still has his mind on the art and the fury of the politics then.

But he is focused on the thundering road ahead.

Bob was born inside the bold and searing architecture of Chicago with the blues in the air at night.

Now he lives in the glitter of Los Angeles.

Way back he worked on the opening montage for Saturday Night Live and his first feature was the remake of Japanese horror Kairo, by Dimension Films.

And then in 2006 there was Pulse, ghosts invading the world of the living through the Internet.

This is what Bob said after reading our story – Biden’s Forgetful Heart – to mark the anniversary of the obliteration of the Twin Towers and of all those good people who, one way or the other, had their lives snatched away by hatred.

“Don’t let anyone tell you that George W Bush, Dick Cheney and their band of war profiteers are heroes. They led us into disastrous wars based on lies that cost $8 trillion and over a million lives.”

I admire Bob Mori.

He sent this video to us, it’s a powerful indictment of America – and our world – by St Louis musician and lyricist Tom Wood. Bob directed and edited the film.

All I really know is that Tom Wood has been around for 30 years. But I do want to know more about him…

The lyrics…

One deception then another
when a child lies to his Mother
then another and another
one deception of our Mother
what other Earth can we cling to
don’t be fooled by that TV
use your mute, wisely
kill the monster rape the beast
embrace the thing you love the least
take a break take a breath
tell yourself i aint quit yet
they bring it up they force it in
get us looked like heroin
kill our kids take our cash
they watch me taking out my trash
you know it sucks you know it blows
why pretend like no one knows
open your eyes open your mind
learn to read get off rewind.
> CHORUS 
Nation Building, Life fulfilling, We are drilling, Keep on filling, We are willing, keep on killing
Keep on Drilling, So fulfilling ]
for those who believe war makes sense
think greed is just coincidence 
and more and more incompetence
will be bought with influence
no big surprise here we are
billions spent on an endless war
blame it on stupidity  a lame excuse for history
Or . . one boy’s life.

#bobmori #tomwood #bush #chaney #chicago #stlouis #hollywood #thepulse #9/11 #twintowers