300 YEARS OF FOSSIL-FUELED FUN IN 5 MINUTES

In other news, it's good to see this crew digging their own graves.

See, it's DOCUMENTED that BUSH and CHENEY knew all about Peak Oil by early 2001.  In fact they based their most critical actions upon it.  Why did they lie to us and force America into two endless wars in the Middle East?


OIL, obviously.

I'm not opposed to fighting for something we need, but it'd make a heck of a lot more sense to stop pretending we need it.  I don't.  You don't.  Only THEY do... and only to build something they've already got too much of: WEALTH and POWER.

Sick Bastards.  Let's all help them get better.  Well, at least the next crop...

Cheney looks like he's on his last legs... so long... I hear Hell's hot this time of year.

Clearly Laura and Condi have never used a shovel before in their lives...

Billionaire Birthday Bash #6: An Open Letter to One of Mr. Friess' Assistants

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

***

Dear Mr. ********* (One of Foster Friess' Assistants):

If you want to talk, please send me an email.  I don't like the phone.  I prefer less vaporous forms of communication so I know exactly where things stand.  My address is maxmogren@yahoo.com.

I have no personal problem with you.  I don't know you.  I see you as another guy like myself but doing your job as a representative of Foster Friess.

I'll tell you my personal gripe with FF, so you know exactly where I'm coming from.  Hopefully we can work to resolve this conflict.

I find it unethical and offensive when a powerful man attempts to cut off a working person's livelihood because they spoke their mind.  Your Boss did this to me.  I know FF didn't do the dirty work personally in pressuring both my employers to terminate me, but member(s) of his staff certainly did.  There is no doubt about that.

I find it shockingly offensive that FF's staff tried to pressure an employer who was in no way associated with the situation.  That direct and completely unjustifiable attack at my livelihood made things very personal for me.  Fortunately, only one of my employers buckled to FF's pressures.


The internet is full of criticism of public figures, so FF shouldn't feel entitled to squashing it.  That, Sir, is Un-American.

If FF has a problem with me and my opinions, it would serve his interests to deal with the situation in an up front manner instead of attempting to intimidate and bully me through underhanded attacks at my basic needs.

Tactics like that go completely against the public persona he wishes to convey.  They also fuel my discontentment, and leave me with only two options:

1) Submit and retract my opinions.

or

2) Keep coming up with creative ways to express my criticism of FF's ideology, hypocrisy, and personal attack on me.

I couldn't live with option 1, and it would take a bullet to stop me from embracing option 2. Frankly, I would prefer a situation with more options.

If FF acknowledged my right to Free Speech and apologized for attacking my livelihood, I would certainly pardon him for the personal offense.  That would take a lot of this fire out of my belly.

My original problem with FF was a lot less personal than this has become.  For the sake of clarity, I will explain my opinions that got me blogging about FF in the first place.

Foster Friess' outrageously expensive, four day long, 70th birthday celebration seemed grossly inappropriate to me at a time when most Americans are struggling to get by.  This disparity disgusted me, as did the conduct of some of his guests, so I wrote about it.

To a poor person like myself, the whole event reeked of hypocrisy because Mr. Friess had put together an elaborate (and expensive) four day celebration to showcase, his own generosity.

He capped off the celebration with a showy flourish by giving each party guest $70,000 to contribute to the charity of their choice.  At first glance this seems like a lot of money, but by my calculations the total amount donated comes to less than 1% of FF's considerable wealth.

To me, it looks more like a tax write-off than a sincere charitable event.  To me,  it looks more like a PR maneuver than a heartfelt attempt to make a positive difference in these exceptionally troubled times.  To me, it looks like FF's excuse to bring the good ol' boys together to plan their next global power play.

In my opinion, true philanthropists give a significant portion of their wealth to charity, and the most exemplary ones do so anonymously or at least with a minimal amount of showmanship.    A good example is once "Richest-Man-In-The World" Warren Buffett who has pledged 99% of his wealth to charity and, along with Bill and Melinda Gates, has started an initiative urging all American billionaires to commit at least 50% of their fortunes to the needs of this planet and it's people.

I urge you to read the story just linked to before continuing further.  Afterward, I'm sure you'll agree that Mr. Friess could learn a lot about true philanthropy from Mr. Buffett's example.


After studying FF's online personality, I find what I take to be a lot of partisan misinformation and fundamentalist quackery that he expects readers to swallow.  He washes it all down for them by promoting himself as a generous, caring, maverick defender of freedom.  I see through this facade and am calling him out on it because I think it is the right thing to do.

In my opinion, people like your Boss are flushing not only our Nation but the entire planet right down the crapper.  I, for one, am sick of it.


Sincerely,

Max Mogren

Billonaire Birthday Bash #4: An intriguing Visit

PERDONELOS, DIOS. NO SABEN LO QUE HACEN.

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

***

Tonight while minding my business I had a visit from a very peculiar young couple.  According to their military ID's they're both 22, but their mannerisms made them seem a lot older and wiser.  Perhaps it's just my paranoia, but they seemed to know a lot about me and tried to steer a forced conversation in unusual directions.  I couldn't help but smile and laugh as my gut told me I was getting cased.  Then, abruptly, they made their exit.

If my recent criticisms of powerful hypocrites and flaws in our American Culture have triggered a red flag somewhere in the halls of power, let me be clear on my intentions.  Then, there'll be no need to waste tax dollars keeping an eye on me.  I am not a threat to anyone's security but my own.

One way to win a resource war is to annihilate your competition.  A more reasonable way is to eliminate your need for the resource in question.  In our case, to leave the oil age in the scrap heap of discarded history.  To leave the brunt of humanity looking like suckers as We, the American People, usher in a new age and a new awareness.  A true "TEA PARTY"... "TEA" meaning, of course, TOTAL ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS.

Now, perhaps it's a lost cause, but if the American people figured out a way to live productive and meaningful lives while utilizing a small fraction of the oil we currently waste, we'd all be better for it.  Thus, I'm preaching OILFREEFUN and feel compelled to call people out on their wasteful and hypocritical behavior... even if they are some of the richest and most powerful folks in the country... especially if they are some of the richest and most powerful folks in the country.

If anyone, they should know better.

If anyone, they can afford to conserve, at least in their personal lives.

My hope is that instead of living opulent lives and throwing themselves ridiculously wasteful birthday parties, the billionaires of the world can lead by example and thus help shift our culture so "keeping up with the Joneses" no longer means matching their CONSUMERISM but rather mimicking their ENVIRONMENTAL AWARENESS and SUSTAINABLE LIFESTYLE.

We've got an endless war on for oil.

We've got oil spills wreaking havoc around the world.

We use more oil than any other country, and, as China, India, and the rest of the developing world mimicks our consumerism, global demand is out-pacing supply.  If anything makes WWIII get out of hand, it will doubtless be energy issues.

Isn't it about time we made a real attempt to rein in our oil consumption?  It's a matter of national security, and I'm fighting for that.  It's a matter of improving our global image and influence.  I'm fighting for that too.

Crusty Old Bible-Thumping Billionaires are a thing of the past.  Not quite yet, but soon.  Which brings us to the lyric of the day, inspired by my visit from tonight's young Americans.

Paranoia strikes deep.

Into your mind it will creep.

It starts when you're always afraid.

Step out of line, the Man come and take you away.

That old live shit is classic... too bad it isn't the whole song.  Don't let em' get to you either.  Here's the full song as interpreted by one younger than I.  Not too polished, but let's hope he keeps at it.

Personally... as they know... we're screwed.

Billionaire Birthday Bash #3: Helpless but Hopeful

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

***

 Man,I'm getting tired of thinking about these people.  So much the better if they just didn't exist.  But they do.  And they're all over the place.

I caught a glimpse of the birthday boy himself this afternoon when he personally dropped off former Pennsylvania Senator Rick Santorum.  This D-Bag became rather famous a few years back for overt homophobia.  Judging by the clubs, it looked like they'd been playing golf.  Hopefully they had an attentive caddy.

The birthday boy is a "self-made" billionaire, wanna-be cowboy named Foster Friess.  He gives a lot of money to charity but keeps much, much more for himself.  He's one of the greatest donors to the shadier branches of the Rebublican Family Tree.  He thumps the Bible to pieces, but puts a mere fraction of his money where his mouth is.  When you have enough money to fund several thousand lifetimes, donating millions is the equivalent to you or I throwing a dollar into a group of starving bums... and letting them sort it out.

After earning billions in the stock market over the course of decades, this guy sold all his personal shares a mere two weeks before 9/11.  That, my friends, is pretty impressive timing.  Perhaps he was just tired of making money off other people's work, but I suspect he knew something disastrous was coming.

In my opinion, this "Cowboy" fucks sheep in the name of the Good Shepard.  You, dear reader, and I are unfortunately part of the flock.

Fortunately, the Big Buckaroo wasn't around long, and the rest of his posse rolled out shortly thereafter for an evening of fine dining.  While the brunt of us eat ramen and scrambled eggs, these folks suck down truffles, caviar, and other obscenely costly goodies.

In their absence, I had time to devote to more meaningful and worthwhile clients.


I met a writer and photographer for The Surfer's Journal who just wrote a great story on quality - but now polluted - waves in the Gulf.


I drove around a few families who couldn't get enough of my stories and tipped accordingly.  One family, a young Midwestern couple with three boys, was even so kind as to buy me a drink at Dairy Queen.  They invited me over to tell a bedtime story and surprised me with a MooLatte and a crisp 10 dollar bill.


When he handed it to me, one of those good young boys said "Thank you for making our vacation great."

Seeing that family got me reminiscing on my own Midwestern childhood, and I turned into Mr. Misty: all smiley and sweet with the knowledge that life truly is good and way too short to spend making someone else richer. Especially if they don't appreciate it.

Can me, please.  I can't justify quitting cuz, though a few years off, my next boat is in sight.  But every time I hop behind the wheel the hypocrisy tangs through my soul.  Piloting a gas-guzzling Escalade in the service of folks who need a kick in the ass more than anything else. 


At least I'm learning how some of the biggest hypocrites deal with their contradictions.  I'm also meeting good people that remind me what true Americans are really like: generally good with their priorities in FAMILY, FRIENDS, ADVENTURE, and SECURITY. Really, the only fault many of us suffer is naivety.


And regardless of our collective clusterfucking, I found myself smiling to one of the sweetest songs I know.  Which brings us to today's lyric:

So all those old friends, God be with them

I wish, I wish I could see you again

In the same corner bar where it all started from

dig your plow so deep, now the stars have all gone

So wherever they shine may it be warm and bright

Out to ease my mind on this worried night

It all seems so simple, the good tidings I send

I'll never forget that one year that we spent...

-G Love, When We Meet Again

You may be wondering why there is a picture of a guy skimboarding throughout this song.  I don't know why either: it's not my video.  I'm just borrowing it from YouTube.  It's probably because the video's creator has positive memories associated with both skimboarding and this excellent old song by G Love.   Logically, it works for him.


Skimboarding: a much more positive activity than, say, WATERBOARDING.  Fuckers.

Billionaire Birthday Bash #1: Checking In.

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This is just one of several posts about my current conflict with vengeful billionaire hypocrite Foster Friess.  For an overview of the situation and chronology of posts go here...

***

In the midst of "the greatest recession since the Great Depression" some folks are suffering more than others.  Some aren't suffering at all.  I know.

I'm personally witnessing a bible-thumping billionaire's multi-million dollar 70th birthday party from the front lines.  In an effort to stay financially afloat, I'm serving these folks and witnessing their clueless and contradictory excesses from a servant's stance.

The Jesus-worshiping birthday boy, who made his billions fiddling around in the stock market, flew in a few hundred of his best friends for a long weekend of shootin' the bull.  Having spared no expense, he's payed for plane tickets, hotel rooms, activity-filled days, and lavish parties by night.  Granted, they're probably pretty lame parties, but parties nevertheless.

I was pretty excited when I heard this crew was coming in, as I hoped to earn decent gratuity in my role as Bellman at a hotel where many of the guests are staying.  Conservatives all, several of them are quite famous and politically powerful.  All of them are obviously quite wealthy.

Today, as I headed for the airport to pick up eight couples flying in simultaneously, I felt confident that by courteously serving them they would acknowledge my assistance and reward me with the customary tip.  After all, these were successful, sophisticated, Christian Americans, no doubt aware that GRATUITY is as fundamental a concept here in America as, say, FREE ENTERPRISE.

Millionaires all, and on a comped vacation, they would no doubt throw a few greenbacks to the friendly, helpful Bellman.  Right?! Wrong.

After devoting an hour and a half to herding 16 millionaires from airport terminal to hotel room, lugging their luggage, answering their questions, sharing my stories, and doing it all with a smile, I had a total of three dollars to show for it.  All $3 came from one guy who acted as if he was handing me the world.

The other bellman I was working with pocketed $5 so our grand total came to eight dollars: exactly fifty cents per person for a shuttle from the airport, luggage service, check-in service, and countless questions answered.

The typical tourist throws us between two and five for a check in, at least ten for a complimentary ride from the airport.  If these party-goers were anything like the average Joe, we'd have pocketed at least $40-50 each.  My buddy made $5.  I made $3.

Now, I'm not complaining for my own sake, just sharing the story because it calls to question their understanding of Christian ideals as well as their personal stances on the "trickle down economics" we peons are supposed to place our hope in.  If this breed of wealthy can't even acknowledge and reward good service when it's lugging their golf clubs, how can they be trusted to govern our collective financial futures?  Clearly they can't.

As a guy who went to Catholic school from K through College, I've got the true Christian ideals pretty well figured out, so I know them when I see them.  Working as a Nurse's Assistant in the Retirement Home of a Monastery where both convicted child molesters and legitimate Saints were spending their autumn years, I wiped two kinds of asses: those of DELUSIONAL HYPOCRITES and those of TRUE BELIEVERS.

Jesus (whoever he really was) exemplified a mentality and lifestyle of perpetual giving.  Even two thousand years later, no one can take that away from him. When I meet a truly selfless individual I can sense it.  The generosity and kindness exudes off of them.  They practically have an aura.

In my own eyes, none of the folks I dealt with today seemed remotely wise or in the least bit generous.  They came off as a bunch of shallow, twisted goons: a cackle of back-stabbing, two-faced, teacher's pets who've taken these childish habits into adulthood.

The GREED and TRICKERY of Big Finance compounded with the CORPORATE COCKSUCKING of the Bush Administration caused our current recession, which has millions of hard-working Americans stuck below the poverty level.  Meanwhile, the very people who got us into this mess are living higher on the hog than ever before.  I see it.

This weekend I get to witness some real characters firsthand, and I'm paying very close attention... hopeless as they make me feel.

Here's the lyric of the day, from none other than a fellow Minnesotan, Bobby Dylan.  Please listen.

Though it's old news, Obama should take the Bush Administrations' asses to court: for stealing an election, conspiring in the greatest American tragedy, lying to the American people countless times, and bankrupting the Treasury to fund their own interests.

The Republican Party, and especially the Ultra-Conservative "Christians" squatting farthest wrong, needs the piss kicked out of it until they join us here in the 21st Century.  Hypocritical Christianity and Free For All Economics aren't gonna get us through the converging catastrophes America (and humanity) now faces... at least not with any semblance of order.

But hey, the Billionaires will stumble through, perhaps suffering the occasional temporary shortage of cavair.  Meanwhile, the rest of us will continue getting fucked over until suffering repeated thrashings takes us out of existence.

They're just words but mark em'.  I wish it was otherwise, but it feels like the case.

It sucks. I know.

C'est la vie.  Bienvenidos a Los Estados Unidos.