Palantir sort of Fascism SHHHHHHHH!!!

 "Palantir Technologies is denying claims made by Cambridge Analytica whistleblower Christopher Wylie that it has links to the controversial company."

http://money.cnn.com/2018/03/27/technology/palantir-cambridge-analytica-facebook-peter-thiel/index.html

____________


"Palantir Technologies is a private American software and services company which specializes in big data analysis. Headquartered in Palo Alto, California, the company is known for two projects in particular:

 Palantir Gotham and Palantir Metropolis.

 Palantir Gotham is used by counter-terrorism analysts at offices in the United States Intelligence Community (USIC) and United States Department of Defense, fraud investigators at the Recovery Accountability and Transparency Board, and cyber analysts at Information Warfare Monitor, while Palantir Metropolis is used by hedge funds, banks, and financial services firms.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palantir_Technologies

________________


Odd how the GRU logo is a BAT, huh?

sisters squeeze

Love in pajamas

Sometimes, a picture of beautiful people hugging is just the right thing for the day.

Amati, bloggod

something for everyone bloggod smorgasbord

I'm always happy to see that people around the world find interesting things at bloggod:

page views this past week:

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   Since I can't make it to your beaches anytime soon, send your waves of eyes, minds, and hearts here to lovely Mt Tabor, Oregon

photo of vegan burger at home

food food food is good good good

vegetarian for 27 years.

The First Lowering, Moby Dick

 "There, then, he sat, holding up that imbecile candle in the heart of that almighty forlornness. 

There, then, he sat, the sign and symbol of a man without faith, hopelessly holding up hope in the midst of despair."


from The First Lowering, CHAPTER XLVIII, MOBY DICK

http://etcweb.princeton.edu/batke/moby/moby_048.html

bumpkin bunch

smells worth a thousand memories or
sights borrowing a thousand finger brushes,
a picture worth half a bounce
a word is equal to lots of swords made of diamond
a word is smite as a wheelbarrow is to coal
a nose never ever smelt
iron ion bunched up in a boquet
hear you go

Fliers, Michael Hurley with bloggod on fiddle, 2009-2010

Micheal Hurley, Dustbowl Refugees, Ekone Ranch 2009

Surreal and Obama 2007 Iowa

President Surreal

"the gift"

Surreal and Senator Barack Obama, Pleasantville Iowa, 2007---just before the caucus*

Steve Weber, Robin Remaily, Peter Stampfel 1999, Crystal Ballroom Green room

(photo of my photo. sorry for blur)

Weber, Stampfel, Remaily-------original Holy Modal Rounders

in the Green Room at the Crystal Ballroom, Portland Oregon 1999,
(where Jimi Hendrix got fired from Little Richard's band.)

Played fiddle with them, and the next day too, at Pickathon/Hornings Hideout. If You Wanna Be a Bird....Same Old Man Sitting at the Mill.

Fort Anomaly, the Dalles,Oregon: once, Captain Gray's Guest House

Free Speech makes the world Stay Round

Last Week visitors to bloggod's smorgasbord 

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Grazie!

Je vous remercie

Dank Je

Спасибо

Obrigato

mulțumesc

Дякую

謝謝 

bloetgoet 1994

Little did I know that Woodstock was our ancestor's stomping ground, for several hundred years.

Woodstock 1994

Forest and Surreal
bloo

The Rotten Mane

Earth nameless stumbles into human form,
     a suit derides in mealy pleats;
the phaeton drops them at the curb,
     his cape over his klannish sheets;

Dim don treads, alligator shoe-horned,
     toward his minaret of unflinching greed;
composure escapes him, a raped morn,
     liberty lady ravaged need not plead.

The vouch of slime undoes his tongue,
    all fair and noble creature recoil;
rather air or water to quench his lust,
     don's bearings gurgle Oil.

Land promises, evict the rotten mane
of Tyrant's Tirades and more of the Same.





12-14-17

Mt Tabor, Oregon

fake mozart, fake

mozart wrote nada poetry, zero, not a scrap
fuck him and his fake legacy
he me tooed everything in sight
the movie told me so
the blood blot
fuck amadeus he wasn't an asshole, like
pie
crasso

fuckyou stitches (1986)

when i say she left me
in stitches
we don't mean
it was funny

love is nothing 

like talking to 
your plants. we

can justify
that confidence by 
feeling at least
it can't hurt


*


i thought i was immune,
given a special gene
or antibody to protect me from

fuckyou

i reckoned love
was a cross on a chain
to ward off vampires, alas

my blood sped quickly
over fangs that regretably
transformed me
into a jetblackcaped

fuckyou


*


when lightning slaps
the ocean, no translation is
arranged for the reality impaired

when trees drop
their leaves, used
remains of a lover, 

no one whistles
the world feeds itself
to itself with cool& steady hands


*


spit and rinse
is a lover's lullabye
hung on the steam of a heavily mirrored apt.

wash and wear
can be heard darkly echoing
thousands of feet down
in mines by black-dusted men 
with canaries in their lunchpail psyches

disposable for sensitive skin
is a common joke
in our capitol's bathrooms,
tissues and baldheaded towel dispensors
wipe
drain
flush



1986 Lawrence, Ks

tagteams (1999)

reasons and excuses
seasons and crucifixes

words are good trouble
send me these, on the double

po-lice and senators
burglars and creditors

sharing a pizza pie
while nukeing earth's 3rd eye

good moms and holy men
never tire of supporting them

their community base is strong
thru profits from the Hall of Wrongs

sight-see the warzone
(fertile thoughts were wince sown)

here on the mainframe
the reference point is our brain


1999 Klickitat, Wa
Swale Creek

lassitudes (1999)

corrugated chantings
serenity disclosed
obsolescence primordial
refactification
preludes to stupendous cart
wheels & cartwheels & art 
chose cohesion
minuscule agendas within multi-faceted
buffer zones
hormonal antifreeze
frosted snapdragons 
radiant tools of lassitude
abrupt pontification
halos and ulterior shinescapes
leisurely weighted beams of joy
loud good baby grunts
while sleeping 
between night/day



1999 Swale Canyon-Portland

seize this this (1999)

seize this this poem as evidence
   of the worlds inside which collide
with clashing scimitars resounding
   muffled by a buffalo hide

seize this this home as nonsensedence
   of the love of the air and the tree
breathe the fragrance of your own doings
   exemplify the peace of one, free

seize this his body as beneficence
   limb by limb fold me into thy cell
only then could i awaken
   from relentless consumer spell

seize this this entire universe
   stick a barcode on the moon
buy grafted simu-cool reality
   with microscopic digital spoons

seize this this flagrant malevolence
   a pile of consumer's bones
shred the passive neuroses to smithereens
   burn quaint Timorese in their homes

seize this this wrapper by providence
   left on the smudge of the hook
them heathen needs be crucified
   but spare 'em if they can cook

seize this this moment as medicine
   for the soul of the earth is food
acorn, creekmint, broccoli
   feed flesh as well as its mood


1999 Swale Canyon, Wa

simplicity rounded-off (1998)

folksongs & cobblestones
anointed, simplicity rounded-off

cars that work,
yet eat Future.

if only posture
could pay for all the starch.

homerun, deep
into congregation.

speech been raked
to tidy bonfire pillage,

homework, pure
TV coal. spawning,

genius death verve
dissipates, until

city skin subliminal
concrete dermis closes

tearducts of bull run rain,
10 inches in one day

over a polluted utopia



portland-swale creek, 1998

Flatitude

Google a word, and see how a Monopoly controls Meaning.

"Google began uttering fascist platitudes."-----*fixed that.


plat·i·tude
ˈpladəˌt(y)o͞od

noun
plural noun: platitudes

a remark or statement, especially one with a moral content, that has been used too often to be interesting or thoughtful.

"she began uttering liberal platitudes"

synonyms: cliché, truism, commonplace, banality, old chestnut, bromide, inanity, banal/trite/hackneyed/stock phrase

"boring us with his platitudes"


*Origin*


early 19th century: from French, from plat ‘flat.’
_______________

Dead Poet Society and the Irish ballad of Bloet Goet

"In a mean abode
 On Shankill Road
 Lived a man named William Bloet

 Now he had a wife
 The plague of his life
 Who continually got his Goet

 And one day at dawn
 With her night shift on
 He slit her Bloody Throat"

Dead Poet's Society, 1989
(at minute 38, in the cave)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dead_Poets_Society


"In a mean abode on the Shankill Road
Lived a man named William Bloat
And he had a wife, the bane of his life
Who always got his goat
And one day at dawn, with her nightdress on
He slit her bloody throat

Now, he was glad he had done what he had
As she lay there stiff and still
'Til suddenly awe of the angry law
Filled his soul with an awful chill
And to finish the fun so well begun
He decided himself to kill

Then he took the sheet from his wifes cold feet
And he twisted it into a rope
And he hanged himself from the pantry shelf
'Twas an easy end, let's hope
With his dying breath and he facing death
He solemnly cursed the Pope

But the strangest turn of the whole concern
Is only just beginning
He went to hell, but his wife got well
And she's still alive and sinning
For the razor blade was German-made
But the rope was Belfast linen"


Raymond Calvert

1906-1953




http://www.kinglaoghaire.com/lyrics/320-william-bloat

___________________


The Dead Milkmen cover the ballad:

http://kinginyellow.wikia.com/wiki/The_King_In_Yellow/William_Bloat

"David Schulthise (September 16, 1956 – March 10, 2004), otherwise known as Dave Blood, was the bass guitarist for the punk band Dead Milkmen.

 Schulthise was born in Ridley Park, Pennsylvania. He helped form the band in 1983 along with fellow pseudonymous musicians Joe Jack Talcum, Dean Clean, and Rodney Anonymous. Prior to this he was a Ph.D. candidate in economics at Purdue University.[1]

He stopped playing music in 1995 after the band broke up as the result of developing tendinitis in both hands."

math problem

looking for work
looking for work
looking for work
________

work is looking
work is looking
work is looking
________

yo,
over here.

kangaroo moccasins

Unless you were in an Oklahoma public school, you probably didn't do the annual Land Rush
picnic day, a brown paper sack lunch all ready to go, and a stake to plant and claim one's
spot out on the playground lot there at Highland Park, after a hurried survey of the lay of
the land and its proximity to water, dry goods, and ammo: dirt clods. Unless you were some
pagan waif buried in the sweaters of 1970, you probably didn't do the Maypole on this same
playground, or know what a Maypole is at all, the crisscrossing rainbow streamers just
a social hurdle, the merry rub of shoulders as trees blossom and bees make economy in the
sun.
Vague remembrances, all those crisscrossing rainbow serpents, all those weird games that make 
no sense, and towns of faces of the conquered, dressed up as blue jean victors. Pawnee Bill,
Woolaroc, the Salt Flats, Woody Guthrie, and Jim Thorpe, place names and names of places,
veins and heart. A sack lunch, a Fox and Sac Swede, getting sacked by Eisenhower, or the
other way around. Barefoot running those section lines barefoot, past the home of the woman
at the farmhouse she opens the door as I knock, selling magazine subscriptions to fund the
school orchestra program. She opens the door, her robe opened from a couch-side nap, her
chest a scarred pit where the breast once better homed and gardened. Learning what the word
mastectomy means. 
Laid sleeping in the back of the VW station wagon Big Blue, four a.m., under a pile of blanket
on the way to Hydro, or Ames, it could be time for the farm and barns and cotton fields and
ponds where cattle drink when it isn't frozen, or it could be at Aunt's house and that time 
sledding I busted my lip as they say, and the drama of blood on snow. Loaded like cargo in
the hold, carried sleeping from place to place, checking our name tags, making introductions.
I wanted my name to be Steve, not Forest. I wanted to be the 6 Million Dollar Man, but 
hadn't thought it through, with inflation. Waiting to be picked up from school, bored, I hoofed
it toward home one day age five, or six, starting walking the 5 miles out of town along the
HW 51, picking up curious things and putting them in my metal lunchpail, lots of parts of
crushed turtles. Dad was flummoxed to find my a third of the way home, and who didn't get
the lecture that night.
Nineteen years in the same home, on the same land, in the same town, means nothing. Our 
random names, our organs and skin, or addresses. Weather, wind and water, and the variety
in fashion at the moment. Kangaroo skin running shoes, I left you on the bank of a river
as we hurried on to some destination, a museum, or scenic midway point to the next postcard.
Topsoil so loose the Land Rush stake has nothing to grab and bite into, other than the crust of
a PBJ others buried last year, in that corner of the playground where the 4 leaf clovers pop,
where there is a hole in the chainlink fence that means a home run if one can kick the ball
there with enough luck, wearing the right toenails. 
All the kids in white-face, in dirt-face, in OK-face, our own reservations. Wanting to be
Indian and Cowboy, both, not knowing anything. Still dumb, or numb, or a patient butterfly
waiting for the pin, the ether, and the placard. When you're young, you're a plot that hasn't
mapped out, a prospecting pan just dipping the stream for water, nothing else. It may look
like a feudal rodeo, if one can get the clown out of the way, and keep enough peanuts 
in the pocket for a ride up the ferris wheel. 



3-6-18 Portland, Or

Sherman Alexie ,Tattoo Tears

Hairbrain (1988)

http://www.calibanonline.com/store.html

#9 includes an art portfolio by Kisoon Griffith, interviews with zydeco musicians Wayne Toups and Nathan Williams, and work by Gerald Vizenor, Wanda Coleman, Dionisio Martinez, Diane Wakoski, Antonio Porta, Spencer Selby, Forest Bloodgood, Dieter Weslowski, Christopher Davis, John M. Bennett, Melissa Monroe, Ronnie Burk, Ray DiPalma, Edouard Roditi, Simon Perchick, Louise Erdrich, Michael Dorris, John Bradley, Sonya Hess,  Joel Lewis, Amanda Yskamp, Edward Smallfield, Sheila E. Murphy, Stephen Ratcliffe, Kevin Walker, John Lindgren, Silvia Curbelo, Greg Mulcahy, George Kalamaras, Raymond Federman, David Huerta, Jeanne M. Beaumont, Edward Mycue, Nico Vassilakis, Jay Passer, Christina-Marie, John Bell, Jose Quiroga, Judith Roitman, Gaspar Aguilera Diaz, Lisa Cooper, B.Z. Niditch, Tyrone Williams, and Guy R. Beining.

___________

#9 Issue of Caliban has my poem "hairbrain," about my friend Ann, who underwent
emergency brain surgery for an aneurysm. I had been publishing poetry by sending small
manuscripts to magazines, and got a tip from that Caliban wanted a submission. It was
particularly rewarding to be published alongside established "names."

I hadn't looked up Caliban online in awhile, not knowing it continued in some form. Yesterday,
I was thinking of Sherman Alexie, who at present is in the news from multiple women
accusing him of bad behavior (in a nutshell.)


"Writer Sherman Alexie last week issued a statement admitting he "has harmed" others, after rumors and allegations began to circulate about sexual harassment. Without providing details, Alexie said "there are women telling the truth," and he apologized to the people he has hurt. "

https://www.npr.org/2018/03/05/589909379/it-just-felt-very-wrong-sherman-alexies-accusers-go-on-the-record

Issue #10 of Caliban has several Alexie poems; the first is "Tattoo Tears," which is
dedicated "for Joy Harjo." It begins with "1. No one will believe the story I'm telling, so it must
be true." The poem explains that the tattooed tears for the woman exist as the "real ones
failed to convince."

Caliban print issues featured a Free Speech Corner, wherein contributors are given an
additional chance for publishing unedited comments. Sherman Alexie wrote,

"I'm a Spokane/Coeur d'Alene Indian
 from the Spokane Indian Reservation.
 Nearly full-blood, which means I can play
in the all-Indian basketball tournaments,
 but still not sure which parts of me
 are federally recognized as white."

NOW we know which parts are recognized as white: the shamed part.

""It's a story about power, and abuse of power," says Jeanine Walker, one of three women who came forward on the record, and whose stories NPR has corroborated with several sources. In all, 10 women spoke to NPR about Alexie, who is a married man. Most of the women wanted to remain anonymous, but a clear pattern emerged:

 The women reported behavior ranging from inappropriate comments both in private and in public, to flirting that veered suddenly into sexual territory, unwanted sexual advances and consensual sexual relations that ended abruptly.

 The women said Alexie had traded on his literary celebrity to lure them into uncomfortable sexual situations."

Mines (Wars)

"----Monitor readers will remember
the report was once circulated of the destruction of the family of Freeman Bloodgood, by Indians, in New Mexico. But we learn that though some of the neighboring ranchmen and their families were destroyed, he learned of the approach of the Indians in time to escape from the ranch with his family; but nearly all of his cattle were taken. Though, as ranchmen brand their stock, he afterwards found about a hundred head that had strayed from the rest. Mr. Bloodgood occasionally visits the ranch, but does not yet consider it safe to endeavor to make it his permanent dwelling place. He has also a share in two mines."


(1883-ish) Kingston, NM

Geronimo avoided the reservation until 1877, when he was captured by Indian agents and brought to San Carlos in chains. He tried his hand at farming, but like many of the Chiricahua, he longed for the freedom of the frontier. Geronimo and his allies would eventually stage three escapes from the reservation between 1878 and 1885. Each time, the renegades fled south and disappeared into the mountains, only resurfacing to conduct marauding expeditions on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border.

 During his second breakout in 1882, Geronimo even staged a daring raid on the Apache reservation and forced several hundred Chiricahuas to join his band—some of them at gunpoint. By the time of his final breakout in 1884, Geronimo had earned an unparalleled reputation for cunning, and stories of his ruthlessness—both real and imagined—were front-page news across the United States.

http://www.history.com/news/history-lists/7-things-you-may-not-know-about-geronimo

______________

"In December 2014, President Barack Obama signed the 2015 National Defense Authorization Act, which would give land sacred to the Apache in Arizona to Resolution Copper Mine [RCM], a joint venture owned by Rio Tinto and BHP Billiton. The Act cleared the way for the land swap in which Resolution Copper would receive 2,422 acres of National Forest land in exchange for deeding to the federal government 5,344 acres of private land.[11]

A proposal or rider in Section 3003 of the Act, titled "Southeast Arizona Land Exchange and Conservation Act", would allow RCM to develop and operate an underground copper mine 7,000-feet deep (approximately five Empire State buildings) in the publicly owned Tonto National Forest near Superior, Arizona.

The mine would destroy an area set aside in 1955 by President Dwight D. Eisenhower that is sacred to the San Carlos Apache.

 United States Secretary of the Interior Sally Jewell said she was "profoundly disappointed with the Resolution Copper provision, which has no regard for lands considered sacred by nearby Indian tribes".[16]

By January 2015 over 104,000 had signed a petition to President Obama, "We the People|Stop Apache Land Grab".

 Bills introduced in 2015 by Sen. Bernie Sanders (D-Vermont) and Rep. Raúl Grijalva (D-Tucson) would reverse the land-exchange deal, but neither has received a hearing.[18]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Carlos_Apache_Indian_Reservation
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Carlos_Apache_Indian_Reservation

hola ciao aloha

Ireland's 6 shells
France's 4 loaves
Portugal's 4 herrings
Brazil's 2 barrels
Canada's 2 glaciers
Romania's 2 castles
Ukraine's 2 books
Spain's 1 bell
Honduras's 1 cloth
_____________

United States's 16 salad-poetry heaps


hola
ciao
aloha

farm peace

March 26, 1674 Bloetgoet/Bloodgood

Documents Relative to the Colonial History of the State of New York

https://archive.org/stream/documentsrelativ02brod#page/590/mode/2up/search/Bloetgoet

Freeman Bloodgood, great grandfather. Born 1832.
Ophelia Shoemaker Bloodgood, great grandmother.  Born 1844

Frans Jansen Bloetgoet-Garret-Garretson(Eliza Bloodgood) House, built 1659

http://s-media.nyc.gov/agencies/lpc/arch_reports/653.pdf

Bloodgood-Garretson House, Main St. and 39th. Built in 1659, demolished 1911.

https://books.google.com/books?id=_DbB9BPWr1EC&pg=PT23&lpg=PT23&dq=+garretson+house&source=bl&ots=pQLJ8Ei5q8&sig=3ypl1B1tRdEqQK-nMPCZPWl5MzQ&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjPrtm49dDZAhVEwWMKHdywCOQQ6AEIXDAN#v=onepage&q=bloodgood%20garretson%20house&f=false

_______________

"3. History of the Project Site

The project site originally was part of the Bloodgood family homestead, which was
acquired, probably by early Flushing settler Franz (or Francis) Bloodgood (or Bloctgoct), in
the second half of the 1600s, although archival sources differ as to the exact year (Munsell
1882:90; Anonymous n.d.:16; Chapman Publishing 1896:1192) Soon after the

Bloodgoods purchased the land, though, a house was constructed on the east side of what
would become Main Street, within modem Block 4978. This house, later known as the
Garretson House, after descendant Eliza Bloodgood's husband, Garret R. Garretson, stood
just north of the project site, within modem Lots 104 and 107, until its demolition in 1911.

The core of the house was a small structure, presumably dating to the original construction,
but over time the house was lengthened and rooms added, as need warranted. The length of
the house paralleled Main Street. 

A description of the house during the 1880s, which by
then had become one story with a garret, indicated the first floor had seven rooms
(including two kitchens, three bedrooms, a parlor, a living room, a dining room, and a large
hall) and the second floor had three large bedrooms and a garret. 

The front of the house,
facing Main Street, originally had a sloping lawn, but this feature was truncated when Main
Street was widened, and a low retaining wall was built in front of the house to hold back the
cut bank, with steps leading up from the street. A thick hedge capped the retaining wall,
and rose vines obliterated much of the house's facade (Lawson 1952:163-165). A
photograph of the house illustrates these features (Figure 5).

Although the Garretson house was just outside the project site, the homestead associated
with the house covered all of Lot 101, as well as portions of modem 39th Avenue and 138th
Street. Presumably, descendants of Franz Bloodgood lived on the property from the second
half of the 1600s through the early 1800s, but little is known of them, other than their family
name. 

It appears that Eliza Bloodgood's father, Daniel Bloodgood, headed a household and
occupied the property by 1800 and until at least 1830. Federal census records made in
1800, 1810, 1820, and 1830 list Daniel Bloodgood as the head of a household that included
from six to eleven people, depending on the year. 

Daniel Bloodgood was a fruit grower,
specializing in cherry trees (Lawson 1952:163-165). The 1820 federal census, however,
indicates three members of Daniel Bloodgood's household were engaged in manufacturing,
suggesting that the B1oodgoods may have held other occupations as well.

Occupation of 'the homestead during the remainder of the nineteenth century is well

documented, owing primarily to the success of Garret Garretson, who married Eliza Bloodgood and took over her family's land. 

Garretson was born inNew Jersey in 1807, and
moved to New York at age 16 to work as the overseer for William R. Prince's nursery,
which later became one of the largest nurseries in the country, if not the world.

 In 1836,
Garretson opened his own business growing and selling seeds. At the time, there were only
three other seed businesses in the country. Garretson had a 100-acre farm, where he grew
most of the seeds, on Jamaica Road, east of Flushing. His business flourished, and he

ultimately sold his seeds allover the world. Within the project site, along 38th Avenue,
Garretson had a seed store, or warehouse, from which he sold and stored his stock. It was a
long frame building, known as Garretson's Seed House, which endured until 1910, when it
was razed (Chapman Publishing Co. 1896:1191-1192; Flushing Evening Journal March 24,
1910). The Garret Garretson household is documented in federal censuses from 1840
through 1880. The household included Garretson, listed variously as a seedsman or seeds
merchant, his wife Eliza, and their children: Alonzo, Imogene, Susannah, Charles, Frank,
and Jane. The household also usually included one or two female servants, who were often
Irish immigrants.

Several other structures were present on the Garretson estate, as evidenced by nineteenth
century maps. A map made by Elijah Smith in 1841 is the first to show the estate in detail
(Figure 6). Here, three buildings are shown on the property: the larger structure set back
from Main Street is the Garretson house, the seed store building is shown along Liberty
Street (later Lincoln Street, and now 38th Avenue), and a third small structure, south of the
house along Main Street, may be what a 1859 map refers to as an "office" (Walling 1859;
Figure 7). Lawson (1952:77) suggests that this structure was one story high, and removed
in 1867, in anticipation of laying out Locust Street (now 39th Avenue), which had been
proposed as early as 1859, but not carried out until 1875 (Kearns et al. 1988:16). Thus, the
former footprint of this structure appears to lie under the roadbed of 39th Avenue, and not
within the project site. The 1873 Beers map shows that the structure south of the house had
been removed by this time; no other buildings besides the house and the seed store were

present on the Garretson property (Figure 8).