pishawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
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Posted:Apr 2, 2012 6:14 pm
Last Updated:Jul 8, 2012 3:50 pm
5944 Views
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Can I borrow you for a second can I steal your ear drag you off to a corner where no one else can hear and then just tell you cuase to me it's true
I Love You
and take it as you will..... cause It just a thing.. that I gotta say doesn't mean you gotta change your ways
doesn't mean you have to hear it either I just needed now to say it
to be me
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preprepared resignation letter
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Posted:Mar 29, 2012 7:43 am
Last Updated:May 26, 2024 12:46 pm
4723 Views
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First, I want to say, that I have enjoyed this experience, this shared responsibility and experiment. Here I have met some very interesting and honorable individuals. I use the word "individual" here intentionally. When first I sat here, on this committee, and not as an observer, during those required meetings before I was appointed, I got to know first one, and then anther of you.
Indeed, through certain circumstances I was allowed to admire the integrity of some few of you, and in time I know I would have seen that integrity revealed over and over again.
We, as a "committee" are just so many individuals, representing that many more individuals... residents of our respective wards.
And through our process we learned and operated as a "body". I am as proud of this body as I am of Campaign For Liberty, my first overwhelming realization of just what that means... to be a part of a "body" I do hope, that in the future, YOUR efforts are something I can ponder, as I work my one paper ballot.
My Ward, is the Fifth Ward, one that seldom offers of its own volition, someone willing to approach this body, and wish for inclusion.
During my tenure here, I described my position to the incredulous outsiders as similar to the Maytag Repairman. "the loneliest job in town"
It's not that there are not Republicans, or even conservatives in the Fifth Ward, there are.... but rather it is that if those conservatives poke their head out, the result is exactly that which happens in the 's toy "whack-a mole". They become a conditioned response target.
Even in the absence of 'Republican officials in this City... all know.... all "democrats" know... all BLACK democrats know... that all evil is the doing of THAT other Party...
I canvassed door to door with a friend running for office
we walked the North Side streets we met with nods of ascent to ideological tenets and the political analysis... "they" could agree that the fox guards the henhouse
but they could not get behind ever voting Republican.
This is ingrained this is as strong as a fear of the whip... and yet there is no whip.
This is what a vote farm looks like.
And I will tell you that in time with leading by example we can change this.
I have told Sharon and thank you Sharon for what you have let us all experience... in your patience in your guidance... I have told her... that the impetus to change this city will come from North of Delmar. Doubt me if you will... I see it.
The Fifth Ward is very much an area that shapes how people think, and uses those same people as posty-notes, always reaffirming what is "appropriate" political thought. It is, what we call... a vote farm, the anti-thesis of the individual.
And yet, I am widely known in my ward. There are serious property rights issues in my ward. I am there. There are serious corruption issues in my ward. I am there. There are serious issues of political retribution, and again, my neighbors know... that I will be there.
They call me to attend a hearing, with my pen and camera. They know, of my odd line in the news article... committeeman of "that other party", still they call and they know I will come.
That I will stand for what is right, and against what is wrong.
I hope, that my successor will do the same. Otherwise, the position of committee person in the Fifth, is a pretty cushy gig, replete with absolutely no obligations.
I can be maneuvered off this committee, I have been... and I smile because it amuses me whenever I motivate anyone, in ANY direction... I'm an artist unformed clay just fascinates me.
but none of you... and none of them can remove me from my recognition and responsibilities in the Fighting Fifth Ward.
It is a sad reality, that often are politicians.
But seldom are they leaders. Forever, they are a lot that rationalizes a small deal with the devil to allow them the promotion of status that will permit them to do some greater good.
The ends justifies the means...
I will tell you now... the devil never forgets, nor forgives a debt.
As an individual, returning to those seats, where I will be often, with pen and camera.... I hope you all remember, that you ARE individuals, and there are your constituents... all individuals... counting on your integrity.
Thank you for your participation, your sacrifice, your passion. And more, for me personally, thank you for your very selves, shared... ...at my access to being able to witness...
I am more human for it.
There are those who choose to stampede large numbers of the herd mentality into teepees of innocent impediment for what might be labelled as "progress".
I pray that you have the presence of mind, the surety of mind, to stand.... and not run... at any loud noise.
May God assist you, and may you persist.
I leave you in admiration.
Thank You.
Mark Ogier Fifth Ward
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Keynesians
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Posted:Mar 3, 2012 4:42 pm
Last Updated:Jul 8, 2012 3:50 pm
5116 Views
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Keynesians are the "creationists" of economics.
Money as a Faith based initiative.
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Woman of My Dreams
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Posted:Feb 18, 2012 5:55 pm
Last Updated:Feb 29, 2012 4:41 pm
5074 Views
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apologies..... I am now without utilities, except water. Which means that all I have learned from trailing the homeless, I am now trying to refine. I could have edited, but power is what I have in my short memory battery... Maybe I edit it later. Maybe someone actually reads it... No promise, either way, that it matters.... but... it is about smiling.
Woman Of My Dreams
For three nights running, I have encountered complete fascination with a woman
in my dream. And as is usual with Dream, I cannot remember her whole, but
rather glimpses, and feelings. Is she the same woman, each dream? I could
argue convincingly either way. Surely appearances are stunningly different, yet
some sameness exists.
These dreams have come, and I attempt to identify how, why, because as with
most, I am addicted to dream. I opften turn a pillow over, as with a beloved
record album, anxious to get back and play the second side. I have always
desired sound while I sleep. In the past, it would be the television, but once
the government subsidized HD TV, another of Donald Rumsfeld's campaigns upon the
world ( another being asxpertame ), I let the TV go white noise. Now, I play
lectures that I have downloaded on my laptop, or White House press briefings.
When the electric is truendd on, they play over and over, and my dreams pick up
pieces whenever my REM appraoches the near surface, and vision from one side to
the other, takes on similar distortion, as if looking up toward the sky, from
beneath the waves.
The first night, I was listening to "What is Money" by Frederik Bastiat. And I
found myself aware, that I was "back" with her, a woman gone from my life, in a
place I "recognized". I "knew" that I was unexpectedly fortunate to be back, in
the best place of my life. It seems to be an island, as I walked through
continually changing scens, all a combination of walkways, stairs and beach.
People dragging boats in and out of the water, and occassionally the lecture
bled through into conversation from someone in the dream, allowing me
opportunity to reply. And while I cannot see her, I knew her... immensely.
The second night, there was a group of us going to The Landing, an area near my
building here. It is raining, the river is up, we are going to take pictures.
And there are two women, one dark haired, the other blonde, and I can feel them
both, as one, for a bit. In fact, at some point, the dark haired one is in
front of me wearing what seems to be spandex shorts, with the body to make them
irresistable. I extend my hand to cup her ass, and she wiggles in it three
times. I remember kissing her foot, and looking up as she stood, a tight t-
shirt of her well built frame, "FEM" stretched fetchingly across her chest.
But then I shift to the blonde who seems to have no face, yet I do not notice
this. Rather, I just cannot see, yet do not seem to need to. Whatever passes
in between, at some point later, the group is teasing that I was attracted to
her, as if I shopuld notnhave been. I can only reply that I ws, and that she
was gorgeous.
Last night, I was listening to "The Law" again by Bastiat. And I found myself
in a huge house, with endless rooms, and water was pouring through the ceiling.
I climbed stairs looking for the leak, then leaks, as one became stopped, and
then another began. A bedroom would have a pipe up through the floor, while a
bathroom would have no pipes at all. All this in the middle of the night. At
some point, I am on a couch, with "her". I am tired from being up all night,
she is sympathetic, as well as empathetic. We smoke, we lay close. And then we go to a house, maybe her house... There are many people there, a
guy that I think is her brother. It feels like an elaborate family house,
complete with tenants with habits of idleness and excess. The brother is
brokering some sort of deal with me, that changes, I can't remember what I
denied, but agreed to an amount of hash for 20.00. Unbelievably, I think it was
an ounce. ( Okay, I was watching documentaries about the drug trade in
Afghanistan, and my rate of exchange might have been afffected ) There are details of keys, hers, hidden in a bowl above the kitchen cabinet, and
a glimpse of her brushing her hair. Her hair was long and tapered, down past
her hips, and curled... tighter than banana curls, yet looser than corn row
braids. And each evenly curled band of strands was colored in stripes of brown
and red. The effect was marble come to life, and I just see her, casually
running the brush through it, form her shoulder, to her waist. As she got ready, I was back with the brother, and others. The house began to
fill, and I notice a woman in a very formal dress, silks, pink and purple, tight
to her body, but a huge puffy back. I remark to the brother, " Is it prom prep
week?". More people of similar dress arrive, and the group I am in recedes. I
walk through the main room, and about thirty young , eight, nine ten years
old all dressed in their Sunday best start tap dancing and singing a song...
to across the room a young girl, also dressed for a prom whose birthday it is.
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metallurgy
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Posted:Feb 13, 2012 12:38 pm
Last Updated:Mar 21, 2012 2:03 pm
5648 Views
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a people... are but like metal heated beaten and bent on an anvil that in the end imprints it's curve upon them...
At times the people's metal is resolved so much that they resist and shine or more often... shatter... Either way sparks fly
the anvil then and the hammer are the constant... and the smithy...
for he has no destiny but to change you... met all, all oy
shall you submit? allow be alloy?
Which matters more how we come to be? or how we come to believe that sea ... of me see you prophesy past, of flood... is us... our blood? sparks short fly in anvil's shadow.
elemental parts no matter where and always thrust, parry... aggressive, wary which are we really, now?
We born of pain, living long twinkie lives ignoring decay... fearing the peace of passing... fearing a life well lived well earned and passage. PEACE
FEAR the g-nome PROJECT that takes toll from us under bridge OF TRUSTING the total all our years.
The first bells were not foundered but pounded surely, and we hear their peals ever after souls atoning ripples waves
as if our own bodies dove in water leaving only rings of promise that we did indeed exist... passed
What comes of us really??? lest we play it ourselves only amongst ourselves? truth a posty note from someone else...
for surely any audience is made of those either not yet knowing or those already choosing to never know.. who ever asks?
we are pack animals and we bay louder or not, determining obeisance...
at his anvil arm and hammer passing unalloyed steel as sword.... has the smithy condemned Knight to his last day...
no longer artisan nor partisan he that delivers less rationalized he by geld but no eyes... for value,
hammer and tong heat, sweat, a longing but for what?
ancients practiced what you perfect yet you challenge the chalice with adulterous imperfection only because it passes the purse's hunger opening unperceived
unlike the holder of the sword... the holder of the truth is not up front...
He stands behind. Only the true sword and smites lesser swords and stronger hungers for truth... willing to die for it.
He alone knows the weight of a good sword for he carries it almost always and offers it seldom as an end of challenge.
He, who owns the anvil that you are ally alloy to.... cares not.
only the unalienable defy the anvil and only the allied defy alloy
I apologize... to the dead.. the unalloyed... for even deaf only they understand...
those that hear choose against.
You can live forever for naught
but you can only die well once.................................................
truth is never convenient and it never needs your lips yet seeks it always.
when it is easy They come \with their hounds their horses and their whores
and you what do you bring?
What have you?
What keep you?
What defend you?
from bending ore the smithies iron?
In a smart world
there IS A BALLAST a lung breathing without heart hearth without heat none could occur
May the breath of truth on the anvil of justice forge your sword....
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star food
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Posted:Jan 31, 2012 12:55 pm
Last Updated:Feb 2, 2012 11:49 am
5410 Views
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When I was young, I was a shooting star. And what people saw of me was where I had just been... my tale... longer than my memory...
...as they told me later in their recollection, I allowed my reflection to be amusement, or truth whichever leveraged endeavor I favored... until such time as speed no longer ruled.
inevitably, inertia wanes... gravity wins.
I found a "map" of an orbit the other day. It was an early map one that showed the initiating gravitational pull that captured me for a spell... a procession of equinoxes.
Unlike schematics of random legs of a long long journey I can still remember, ...feel the attraction, each semantic segue and segment of arc still precise... still precious... as I bent to core aurora borealis...
I glow now, not as a streaking flame not as a comet more a deep ember coal... yet I know with pleasure that without preconception, as I streaked into orbit it all still makes sense...
having never yet been there I couldn't pass unpulled... yanked toward universe irresistible... a moment immortal...
star food
We who leave little have flared much
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oral fixation
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Posted:Jan 23, 2012 8:10 pm
Last Updated:May 26, 2024 12:46 pm
4545 Views
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What if information; not only "truth" but misleading public information... HEADLINES could be patented...
(and yes there have been efforts to patent headlines, and then, so forth, "news...)
What if you are not allowed to REPEAT the TRUTH?
What if WE can wash out your mouth with SOPA???????
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moon over my ami
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Posted:Jan 9, 2012 2:17 pm
Last Updated:Oct 18, 2012 3:50 pm
5067 Views
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watching... your sleeping countenance, the casual smile that keeps me company as I hear you breathing lightly in and out and I feel the pull of you my full moon.
I realize... I am grateful that I survived my battles; that I fought the demons I could and retired to find peace.
to find you.
my eyes greyed by fires of conflict ...hands calloused too long on the lance but my heart feels peace.
it courses in and out of me slowly like the tides as I watch you rise.
time leaves us in peace shadows slowly caress my shoulders as the sun and moon eclipse and soon the stars in your eyes come out...
"good morning..."
and I am young in timeless peace once more.
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all politics... are loco
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Posted:Dec 3, 2011 10:54 am
Last Updated:Dec 9, 2011 1:06 pm
5996 Views
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FIFTH WARD: NOT 'ROUND UP READY'
In this Technocratic age, where risk is no longer an acceptable fact of life to those who deem themselves "too big to fail" , a New Way of Life has emerged. It is the technological equivalent of the beliefs of one John D. Rockefeller, who professed that "Competition is Evil".
In Agriculture, we see this achieved chemically, whereby every living plant in a given field, is killed off with "Liquid Gold", and then, only these seeds engineered to grow within that toxin will ever bear fruit. There will be no grassroots, no organic growth. Only that preordained by the technocrats, to be 'round up ready'. ( or they'll evolve into "Superweeds )
In Foreign Policy we see it, when a whole nation is rendered asunder, its populace rounded up and turned out each night by armed parties searching for insurgents... where local War Lords are promoted to become corrupt Governors for the New Regime, theoretically to instill order, and allow for the "new seeds" that will grow in a toxic environment, and bear fruit. This too, results in "superweeds". Call them 'terrorists', or drug cartels. The C.I.A. calls them... "unintended consequences". That's long for "oops".
In Urban Renewal, we see the same formula. Neighborhoods rich with the social fabric of family, friends and future, but short on economic wealth and tax generation, are bladed from the field by bulldozers, and politically propagated blight. It is a slow poison, consisting of the stemming of public services such as police protection, public transit routes, and street lighting; vacant buildings left unkempt, as shelters for drug dealers, sex offenders and prostitutes; land banking, and bureaucratic deaf ears turned to repeated complaints and pleas from concerned parents and residents. Local Ward Lords and politicians are made immune to the spreading ills, to act as plow for the seeds of the New Crop, all patented and owned by the genetic engineers, the public trough fed developers, and the politicians that for a tithing, allow them access to private lands, for private gain.
Such is the scenario we find ourselves in, today, in the Fifth Ward. We have been designated 'ground zero' for a huge as yet unfocused $8.1 Billion Mastercard Plan. Redistricting, after the 2010 Census, follows the development plan lines more than it follows the City Charter, or any rhyme or reason.
The Ward is Not a 'Preservation Review District'.
And the "Democrat" candidate for Alderperson, in this City Hall created need for a special election, is the committeewoman for the Ward herself, who along with her father, the committeeman, nominated her to be the "only Democratic candidate on the ballot". ( Someone should look up the definition of the word "democratic", because two other candidates ARE running, both Democrats, but now Independents, ... being labelled "anonymously" as Republicans. ("competition is evil")
The father, the committeeman, is also, through his own organization, a partner IN the development company, that has been filling political coffers state wide for half a decade. Much of that generosity raining on candidates immediately able to shape his development's future. No surprise that the candidate's brother received political contributions... from this same developer, and family partner, as brother was delivering a fat tax credit from the State.
But it hasn't worked. There are still clean seeds left. It is THE right to life issue, that natural seeds survive. There IS organic growth in the Fifth Ward, and indeed all across the part of the city known as the North Corridor... North of Delmar. It is not enough to have the written accounts of lost neighborhoods, such as Pruitt Igoe and Mill Creek, where the intricate fabric of society, though economically challenged, was erased from the face of the earth, in exchange for a healthier tax base, with some pretty healthy money changing well manicured hands along the way.
There are grassroots left in the Fifth Ward. Not everyone was gerrymandered out in the Rorschach redistricting that banished the outspoken potential candidates past to the Third Ward. There are citizens willing to stand up to the technocrats, guided by heart, and not by personal gain. And there are voters. Granted, we lost 18% of them to the first "round up" of redistricting, but we are still more than may be suspected. Hear them answer YOUR questions in a public forum moderated by the League of Women Voters. Show the technocrats and the paid off politicians that this is a community of HOMES, whether we own or rent, and this is not a land bank that can be gotten cheap, for some wampum and a few beads. Nor by genetic modification... We live in a Ward. But WE are Not wards... not of the state, not of the city, nor of anyone else.
WE ARE... THE FIFTH WARD.
CHUCKtheFED
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the beats go on
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Posted:Nov 2, 2011 11:27 am
Last Updated:Nov 25, 2011 5:19 pm
4964 Views
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I have always been attracted to the outside the lines of a human mind...
later generations might call it graphic, and novel...
I have been allowed to meet minds without the bindings that civilization requires...
sometimes forever... some for just a time... some... well... let's just say there is always another outside...
it is why I am outside...
It can be postulated that all that "we" know was just an idea that someone took from someone else, and made "popular"
Now THERE is a term to consider
in your lonesome...
"popular"
From the vantage point of desire it usually requires a promise of some sacrifice....
you thought it, mouthed it, said it...
what I wouldn't give to lick the boot of "popular"
Most are too young to understand..
the "beats"
They were before the hippies and they understood that to belong you gave up
you were "beat"
it was never about music...
music was the remedy
"beat" was what you were... with our Pepsi dent, roll-on deodorant and dry cleaning....
Now? you are just occupied... pre-occupied... with being a part of the pack
and yet since you are here I will tell you a truth..
I will point to the true power...
and trust me
they mine the outside for it... just as I do...
a talent
You see when it works the most potent weapon is you... your lips...
you do it willingly, or you do it without thought...
but you deliver...
they aren't bullets...
we can trace bullets, we can discover where they are made
no these weapons strike even deeper than a bullet...
silently invisibly and no one thinks to trace them...
you... Occupied you... "Beat" you... poet you... posty noted you to each other...
they "beat" you WITH you...
because you couldn't stand to be outside...
and you mistake light for a path rather than a thieves device to save time... in the cloak of darkness...
welcome...
and thank you for still reading............
and not
righting.
It's getting easier to see... to read...
'Who's Who..."
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OCCUPY...yourself
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Posted:Oct 26, 2011 10:16 am
Last Updated:Oct 26, 2011 10:20 am
4356 Views
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Occupy Yourself...
with this...
No matter which path you envision. whether you see Keynes or Hayak ... Trotsky or Marx... Thomas Aquinas or Leo Strauss
you will need to define for your self the following
MONEY
DIVISION of LABOR
PROPERTY
IF you decide your definition and function of these terms you will argue to your own best interest.
If not you will most probably parrot someone you will never meet and live in a land you never imagined.
If you are a pawn you only know it after you are off the board.
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when gawd speaks to you
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Posted:Aug 30, 2011 6:18 pm
Last Updated:Oct 26, 2011 10:10 am
5546 Views
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there has been for ages a term "angel" ...patron of the arts.
And what this means is benefactor.
One who finances... which also means the one who picks and chooses.
I have no measure as to how many of you experience the desire to create.. or even how many of you recognize that this is what we all inhabit as result of our conscious existence.
We are bred to look up our faces wet by rain or feces...
and we smile at the rainmakers that result in our own success. It is not top down that drives us, cedes us... it is that all look up at the vanishing point of the top of the pyramid.
And why is this important?
Because it is the invisible hand that we never see that affects us everyday...
From the Borgia's and the Medici's to Disney and Soros those with the ability to pay to say yes hold the inevitable arrogance to say no.
As we approach yet another "lesser of two evils" election when will you ask who the FUCK set this table?
Who gave us this choice of chicken or something that "tastes like chicken"?
Now in America we await another "stimulus" This will be the 'angel" the Federal Reserve a PRIVATE CORPORATION deciding who shall gain from the new money that waters the coffee down in all our cups.
Who ARE the Borgis'a now? who the Medici's? Who funds what becomes and who denies all who thwart the dynasty?
And you? You do still choose yes? You shave in this assurance? That as you troop off to Disneying heights and posty note horizons.. that it is YOU now that decides?
I differ with your summation.
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Revolver
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Posted:Aug 29, 2011 4:46 am
Last Updated:May 26, 2024 12:46 pm
4426 Views
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Ego as a symptom is very real; but the debate over its significance universally accepts... Consciousness.
I do not.
.............
If I have a fault in the eyes of others, it is the measure of Will that I posses at varying times, and in conflicting degrees.
.....
There are more Truths in our own Consequences, than in all of recorded History.
.....
Chess is not a game... It is a talisman.
Those that play follow... those that conceived. And beyond that apparent conception, is true history.
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To link to this blog (lustmirror) use [blog lustmirror] in your messages.
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