Archive for category Pain

DEATH IS BANNED!….zuki asks why he wasn’t informed

Hello Diatribe,

If you’re just now logging on this week, Marzuki (my Father) died in his sleep last Tuesday May 8, 2012.  I wanted to pull the plug on the website, but somehow he’s figured out a way to communicate with me to continue posting his little rants.  I’m afraid of what torment he’d subject me to should I refuse so until he’s able to R.I.P. I’ll keep assisting him.  Today’s posting was delivered to me via Morse code!  He tapped on my wall all night!  Here you go:

Good Morning Fixed Position Receivers,

There will be hell to pay!  It’s happening in Italy so it can’t be too far way for the rest of us!  President Obama’s fascination if not total embracement of the socialized style of governments found in the ‘Euro Zone,’ will no doubt be interested in how the little Italian town of Falciano Del Massico deals with a significant problem.  Evidently the local cemetery is full up.  No Vacancy, no room at the Inn, filled to the brim, and overflowing would describe the macabre circumstances enshrouding the aging population of 3,700 residing in Falciano Del Massico.  Somebody had to do something, and do it quickly!  Like any thinking politician, the good mayor demonstrated solid leadership and drafted a local ordinance banning all deaths.  No, I didn’t stutter!  Having just died myself, I wondered what if any repercussions had been put in place to punish those that thumbed their noses at the law and died anyway.  Even with my expanded abilities, this part of the ordinance was missing or in fine print and eluded me.

The locals are adamant and refuse to be buried in the neighboring town of Mondragone.  What I was able to find out is some fourteen or fifteen years ago Del Massico and Mondragone’s respective soccer teams were involved in an epic championship match in Mondragone.  In the middle of a third overtime, Guido Sarducci a local Del Massico hero and superstar was mysteriously shot down on a breakaway that would have ended the game.  Rumor has it Mondragone is a Mafia stronghold so I suspect some serious cash was on the line.  After a 30 minute delay to pronounce Sarducci dead and move his body off the field and onto the sideline, the overtime period resumed.  On the very first play, Mondragone scored ending the game securing their victory!  As one might imagine, the Falciano Del Massicans were outraged and stormed the field brutalizing the Mondragone players and staff alike.  The Mondragonians soon joined the fray and 15 minutes later it was over.  The field was covered in blood with 67 people giving up their lives for a fixed soccer game!  There’s been a blood feud ever since.

It’s easy to understand why the good citizens of Falciano Del Massico refuse to bury their loved ones in the tainted soil of their enemy.  I found the Mayor’s solution to the issue to resemble much of the legislation passed in our fine country.  Our lawmakers adroitly address the problem head on with bluster and bullshit sound bites designed to appease the 99%.  These morons lack the perception necessary to see through it and are the same nitwits pushing for ‘Ebonics’ to become our second language.   For reasons unknown to me these idiots are brain dead, running around yelling “Harrumph” “Harrumph” demanding to be heard yet have nothing to say, inexplicably affecting our national dialog.  Savvy politicians from all parties and walks of life know this and take full advantage.  Tell em what they want to hear Johnny!

zuki lives

SOBRIETY IS A TOUGH TASK MASTER….zuki looks for humor

Good Morning Children of Jocularity,

I had a restful evening for a change. Sobriety has convinced me I’ve been living in a “cotton box;” nets poised to drop. Drunken perceptions aside, sobriety also reveals ones level of inner strength. To quit smoking was a ‘walk in the park’ compared to being a drunk voluntarily walking away from the bar. Not only is the drug (#1 best friend) legal, it serves us well by delivering a few hours of self-medicated bliss.  Further, our government has provided places in which this legal separation from our senses is facilitated by bartenders and juke boxes!  It’s not just the drug that makes it tough, it’s the social interchange! Think about it, there’s always a ready audience for our respective ‘B’ sides found nowhere else! This of course adds to the degree of difficulty.   It would be far cheaper to buy a bottle as opposed to visiting a bar but in my search for ‘kindred spirits’ I rarely drink alone.  My propensity for like minded curmudgeon-ism offers little room for questioning my outrageous behavior so most times it’s tolerated or worse; emulated.  Self examination is oft times like my conversations with the bathroom mirror telling me I’m not fat. This daily affirmation makes it easy for the party to continue.  Self-exams require objectivity, and suspect it’s in short supply at most establishments.  So be careful with your sessions in the mirror; sobriety will viciously rip away the ‘beer goggles’ and gut you with the truth.

To put this in perspective, if not for my liver being highly distressed I’d still be pounding Vodka Tonics. You may think otherwise, but my reasoning for posting this epistle is actually pure.  I’m not going to admonish or preach to the two or three of you reading this silent fart, rather I want to explain just how difficult it is to walk away from not only the drug but the environment as well.  Whatever reasoning that descends causing you to turn your back on the demon alcohol, you must be prepared to deal with these two individual forces that will entice and weaken your resolve. Since most of my recreational time is divided between the bar, studio, and/or golf course; all self-indulgent behavior, makes me uniquely qualified to comment.  While people differ widely in how alcohol affects their interaction with others, the common denominator is the need for social interplay. You can deny this all you want, but the need to be stomached (in my case) is equal to if not stronger than the need to self-medicate.

The pleasure we derive at being surrounded by others of like-mind particularly at a bar is largely founded on the consumption of adult beverages. We go there to drink. Over the last decade, I’ve enjoyed myself as either the source or recipient of anecdotal stories or jokes I thought amusing. The buzz derived from drinking seems to link everyone to a wavelength that enhances the experience.  To get a good sense of what I’m saying,  I challenge you to visit your favorite establishment stone-cold sober and join in on a conversation with your peers who’ve obviously had a head start and see how zany you think they are.

I enjoy laughing. Laughter is fundamental to most of us and proven to be integral to our mental and physical well being. Without consuming the magic elixir a good joke brings a dis-connect takes place and many of those things I perceived as humorous are now mildly amusing at best!  It’s not that these things aren’t still considered farcical, it’s just that I’m no longer plugged into the shared wavelength that so easily induced a guffaw. I’ve had people comment at my adopted drinking establishment, that they liked me a whole lot better when I drank. I’m sure these independent observations are true, and sometimes I fear I may never laugh again but cling to the hope it’ll get better!

I believe there’s a transition period one must suffer through that eventually allows the B-side of our personalities to come through without the lubricant of elixir.  A cherished friend of mine observed, “zuki you’ve not yet celebrated your sobriety because you’re still grieving the loss.”   Can I have an AMEN?

zuki

WHILE COURTS SIT IN JUDGEMENT….zuki discovers coca leaves

Good Morning Seekers of Justice,

In a March interview on Bolivian television, Judge Gualberto Cusi, who was recently elected to Bolivia’s Constitutional Tribunal from the indigenous Aymara community, acknowledged that occasionally, when deciding tough cases, he relied on the Aymaran tradition of “reading” coca leaves.  “In moments when decisions must be taken, we turn to coca to guide us and show us the way.” [ BBC News, 3-15-2012]

I truly wonder about some of our own judges given decisions that make little sense to most of us.  For example:  The Connecticut Supreme Court on Monday upheld the right of individuals, regardless of sexual orientation, to engage in any number of “grandiose behaviors,” including, but not limited to, sashaying across the room “like a hussy, yelling ‘Oh my God!’ at the top of their lungs while hopping up and down, and generally acting like Miss Thing.”  There should be laws to punish idiots from assaulting our eyes with such stupidity.  The CT Supreme Court should be forced to spend a week with Hartford’s gay community.

In a sad case, a mother of a murdered 21 years old man requested to an Austin, Texas court to let her collect a semen sample from her dead son to fulfill his lifetime dream of having three sons. The judge agreed and the body was kept at very low temperature until a specialist could collect the sperm. The “specialist” employed to collect the sample known only as ‘Gracie the Vacuum’ is counter suing for non-payment for services rendered.  Evidently, the Vacuum was unable to collect a sample after 3 hours of laborious manipulations.  Gracie was quoted “Hey I’m damn good, and if I can’t coax a dead man to get it up, then nobody can!”  The agreed amount was undisclosed and the grieving mother had no comment.

A man sued his girlfriend because, as he says, she broke his penis during a creative sexual session. When the girl tried some radical new maneuvers that involved a golf ball cleaner his penis broke. He sued for damages and medical expenses for “negligent sexual intercourse” resulting in sexual dysfunction. The court’s decision claimed there was no damage because the sex was consensual, even though the position was not.

And you thought coca leaf decisions were bizarre.

zuki

ROBIN GIBB IS REVIVED BY OUR HOLYMAN….diatribe is given a dinner

Good Morning Believers of Fard,

For those of you that haven’t met our “Holy Fucker” he currently is a man of leisure with little to do but point out minor flaws and faux Pas of both family and associates.  While technically correct in his assessment of Mr. Gibb’s condition, and his wrongful inclusion on my death list, I think we can all agree it’s simply nit-picking.  Already in possession of a pound of flesh, he’s now going after my blood. 

The Bagwan writes:

When I tried to explain to Zuki that he was premature with his Robin Gibb death announcement he, of course, got snippy with me. All I was trying to do was protect the journalistic integrity of the Diatribe and my reward was a terse three sentence (and 3 exclamation point) response making it clear that my help wasn’t needed.

I think Zuki has lost track of the fact that people rely on the Diatribe for cutting edge, current events information. What if on his way home from accounts receivable fez stopped off at his favorite watering hole for a Campari and soda and announced to all present that Robin Gibb had died. Suppose one of the patrons took exception to that erroneous piece of info and a knife fight ensued.

Well my snippy friend please read the following dated 4/24/12 from the BBC:

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Robin Gibb has ‘beaten the odds’, son says

Bee Gees singer Robin Gibb, who woke from a coma at the weekend, has been laughing and joking and wants to go home from hospital, his wife has said.

Dwina Murphy-Gibb told ITV News her husband was “really happy… he just wants to get out”.

Gibb’s son Robin-John said: “They gave him an under 10% survival chance and he has beaten the odds… he really is something else.”

The 62-year-old star fell into a coma last week after contracting pneumonia.

He has also been battling colon and liver cancer. Gibb’s son said his father was “completely compos mentis now”.

The family – including son Spencer and daughter Melissa – had been playing Bee Gees tunes to the singer as he lay in a coma and noticed Gibb trying to mouth words to the songs.

The family credited a recording of “Staying Alive” they had recently received from America for the final stage of this remarkable recovery. The source of the CD is identified only as a Holy Man from the Rockies.

FREDDY KRUEGER RUNS THE I.R.S….zuki finishes bottle of ketel one

Good Morning Seekers of Alms,

I have ambivalent thoughts in just about all themes or categories.  I apologize in advance, but honestly this feeling of worthlessness comes each year at tax time.  There’s nothing like filing taxes to reinforce what a fucking loser one has become.  The fact we’re not alone is of little comfort. Birthdays…piece of cake!  Drop smoking…nothing if not a sense of triumph!  Artwork, professional recognition (zero enumeration), both of which are things important to me; but pale when compared to the I.R.S. and its handiwork.   Have you accessed the I.R.S. website lately?  If not, I’d encourage you to hit the ‘forms’ link.  There are at least 1,500 forms representing all manner of tax obligations, explanations, penalties, as well as payments due!  While there are a few of you (they know who they are) that can afford competent professionals that understand and keep up with current tax revisions.  But for the unwashed making payments to the I.R.S. we can’t afford such trust.  Do we REALLY need 1,500 tax forms and addendums?  I think not!

God I hate to sound so ungrateful, I do appreciate the freedoms and opportunities that avail themselves to those of us willing and prepared to receive them!  But you have to understand!  I’m the victim in all of it!  Please bear with me because I know this is the seventh (7th) annual spewing of distain and contempt for the tax system we’ve adopted as law.  However, in spite of my willingness to pay my fair share, I must “Rage against the machine;” nothing less than you would expect.

The above certainly explains my rational but doesn’t really get to the heart of the matter.  Finishing off the Ketle One and Pinot Noir in the same evening, thrust me into a state that could only be described as a mix of blind hate and self pity.    The act of accounting for the year serves as the “Oracle’s Eye” revealing the raw truth both ugly and odd.

DAMN IT!….I REALLY MEANT WELL…THIS SHIT HAS BEFALLEN ME INSPITE OF MY BEST EFFORTS!

Okay, I’m sorry for the emotional outbreak, but it couldn’t be helped.  Roger the ‘Hairdresser’ has been beside himself over his alleged $15K tax bill making everyone’s life miserable in the process.  If I take on similar countenances please choke me out.  No charges will be filed. 

I think we’re all familiar with the scripture regarding how “the truth will set you free.”  I’m here to tell you that’s a load of skid marks!  Hyperbole wins most times.  I can hear you mollusks now,…”zuki isn’t what you’re saying is that your best efforts are a lie?”…WAIT A MINUTE…not so fast!  What I’m trying to tell the two or three of you still reading this post mark is absolute truth is not always beneficial!  It’s difficult to gage the right mix.  Never-the-less, it seems times have changed and it’s become necessary to secure someone better at it than I am.

zuki