To be right is to…
…give more than empty words.
…understand chaos in the universe.
…live long past the point of no return.
…transgress popular culture and get to the root of the mater.

You become pop culture as a by product.

I have spent a life of procrastination
to escape the rigors of a desk job.
I never wanted a profession that weighted on my life.
Occupation, like marriage, is a prison sentence.

To be right comes with…
…a set of skills of it’s own.
…no remorse or hard feelings.
…the understanding of why you are right.
…the bottom of a bottomless heart.

You only appear like an asshole.

Of all the ways one can live their life,
There is none better than being right.
Which of course takes in to account
more than the ignorant notion of being right.

To be right takes into consideration…
…the truth.
…the humans.
…the environment.
…the change.

A universal view can see the big picture.

Neo-cons wouldn’t know the first thing about being right.
Nor the punch drinking liberals.
The truth is not pretty,
but it shall set you free.

Which is where I have been for the last year or so. Could be more. It’s hard to tell when
One is out there having fun in the warm California sun. However the real issue is the golden idol sized case of writer’s block.

Though even as I type that statement, I’m in full knowledge of how stupid an excuse it sounds. Writer’s block is what my friend calls “White Problems”. No one cares if you can’t place words on a page. No one but your overactive super-ego.

The small tiny voice that drones on and on, like an over-protective mother. Yet procrastination comes on strong like a good drug. Dopamine flooding into the context of the cortex.

Television, the New Age Nanny, becomes visual junk food where everyone is a clown or king with big pearly whites, all the better to eat your soul with, my drear.

Though one comes back to the place where it all started. A chair, computer, desk, and an Oxford comma for good measure. Speakers turned up to 11. Elton John belting out homogenized tunes through a lisp.

Outside the world falls apart bit by bit. Predicted and prescribed entropy for a rapidly decaying society on the cliffs of time.

You want meaning, You won’t find meaning here. We’re all tapped out and the bunghole is dry. Inebriation gives way to realization. It’s better to have the bottle in front of me than to have a frontal inspection at the airport.

There is no depth, no substance. We are all only skin and knee deep in a river of shit. Tempering our resolve. There are two ways out of Shaw-shank, five hundred feet of feces or the body bag.

The choice is yours to make and suffer the consequences. The decision becomes, at least in part, the story.

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.” ~Constitution of the United States of America.

The first sentence of The U.S. constitution contains what appears to be a grammatical error. When the published copy of the Constitution was hung up for the world to see. The union of politics and words became further interlinked, as they have always been.

Thomas Jefferson’s use of “more perfect” has sparked the literary mind. One school of thought offers perfect is total unison, nothing could ever be more perfect. To be more perfect would mean what ever was perfect was never perfect until the point it was perfect.

Another school of thought offers “more perfect” is correct grammar as perfect is an exaggerated word. Nothing is ever perfect and to have the sense of entitlement to use perfect invites the use of “more perfect”.

No matter which school of thought you fall into, we learn about the nature of grammar from our constitution. The laws and rules of grammar are debated, changed, and tangible.

A writer must understand why he uses one word or another, as a politician must understand why he votes for one bill or another. When a writer goes to print, his job is to defend his word. When a Politician goes to vote, his job is to defend his vote.

If a writer’s grammar is weak, he will look like a fool to the literary world. If a Politician is uninformed, he will look like a fool to the televised public. We can see many places were the life of a politician and a writer have intertwined skills sets.

Grammar has politics of its own. One filled with strange rules and amendments.

In the beginning, there was “I Am.” The prefect sentence with a noun and an action. “I”, the noun, states a person place or thing and “am” ,an action, denotes a state of existing. “I am” means I exist, only with less letters.

The job for a writer is to explain themselves in a way that pays tribute to the first sentence. Writers pay tribute in many different ways. Hemingway was known for his understated use of words, while Twain offered verbose alternatives to “I Am.”

Both authors are debated and they both could defend their use of words. They knew the politics of words.

In the coming installments, we shall explore the politics of words. No system is free from politics. The infusion of free will leads to interaction and inevitably to politics.

Politics are the process by which people choose to make decisions. Similarly, grammar is the process by which people choose to communicate.

Grammar and Politics are subjective and we all fear the day when acronyms like “TTYL” and “LOL” find their way into our spell check as the day when a politician’s abuse of our freedoms finds its way into our law.

How would such a change occur? Through the debate of people who understand the subtle nuances and it’s time for us to join the debate.

Monte Cristo

Two thick bits of Holla
Two Slices of Turkey
And two thin hunks of ham

Two melted Holy swiss
One on top and bottom
Served with sugar and jam

2

Monte Cristo

Two thick bits of Holla
Two Slices of Turkey
And two thin hunks of ham

Two melted Holy swiss
One on top and bottom
Served with sugar and jam

3

Monte Cristo

Two thick bits of Holla
Two Slices of Turkey
And two thin hunks of ham

Two melted Holy swiss
One on top and bottom
Served with sugar and jam

Sam's Your Uncle

I start by asking you to imagine your wedding day. Loved ones gathered around a white building to celebrate the love, you and your spouse share. A minister stands proudly at the alter to join a pair of pew members in holy matrimony.

Certainly the mental picture of Marriage is a part of the American dream. Though that dream continues to be little more than pipe illusions for many Americans. Yet that utopia is not entirely up in smoke.

This week, the Ninth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals ruled Proposition 8, Eliminates Rights of Same-Sex Couples to Marry, to be unconstitutional.

Judge Stephen Reinhardt said “Prop 8 serves no purpose, and has no effect, other than to lessen the status and human dignity of gays and lesbians in California, and to officially reclassify their relationships and families as inferior to those of opposite-sex couples,”

And while a portion of us might be outraged, his step marks a giant leap for the intent of our constitution.

Many of us appear to forget the intention of our constitution and the glory of our country. We are the land of the free! Free to decide which church we decide to worship at and who that church considers for marriage.

Far too often we see the image of Homosexuals taking their marital vows on the steps of city hall or in Vegas style chaplains. We are quick to forget that many homosexuals are active members of congregations. Their religion, outside from your opinion of their faith, is of equal importance under the law.

“All men are created equal.”

The United States’ Declaration of Independence states that all men are created equal, whether they were born on our planet or another. While We, as the American Government, can only dictate the laws of the people who are born within the boarders of the U.S.A.

Marry them soon

Therefore our Constitution was written with the intent that all American Men, as meaning humans, are equal under our laws. To further our understanding, a Bill of Rights was added to further protect the intent of a free land.

Our first amendment states that congress shall pass no law against religion or prohibit their free exercise. In the first amendment we can see how the “Defense of Marriage Act” is unconstitutional.

US Citizen -N.- A person born in the United States, or naturalized, holding a US passport.

Now these people make me mad enough to eat my Star spangled top hat. And don’t even mention the problems Ellen and JC Penny are having with the One Million(rounded to the nearest million) Moms.

Though the sad spice in the mix of happiness of this week’s news becomes that homosexuals continue to be denied their religious right to get hitched in the eyes of their God and Government.

As long as this continues, the American Dream is only that. A factious facade granted to no one. Not only for Gays but for the rest of the population who may one day want to live a life that is different from our social norms.

The good book says “Treat thy neighbor as you would be treated.” Do you wanted to be told your religion is stupid? Do you want to be told your relationships are inferior?

The correct answer to both questions is no. Yet so many of the bible thumpers are quick to limit the freedom of others. A great paradox is their religion is based upon free will.

To further our perspective of these crimes against humanity, those who support actions to limit civil freedoms from their fellow countrymen are dividing our country’s unity.

In a time of this depression, we are constantly asked to bring unity and those who divide us are the true terrorist. I, as a symbol of your faded glory, believe we should do everything in our power to restore the rights of all Americans.

Americans be warned. You are for the rights of all Americans or you should be on the first buss to Guantanamo.

Until next time, talk about united civil rights with someone.
Uncle Sam

After a night drenched in liberated spirits, some people say the worst part is the hangover. The pound of gray matter against the skull. The explosive reaction to sunlight reflected off white walls. The ache from every joint in the body. Surly, each aliment is hell but nothing compares to the guilt.

“No, really. What did I do?”

The answer to this question turned Bukowski dark and left Ireland sedated by the British. The real curse of the Irish. Not the limp of a dink, as if a fault of the phallus is a curse to the over populated. Nothing compares to the conjured ghosts of shot glass past, summoned forth to reap their havoc in slighted mental shows. Lamp shade nightmares bubble to the surface and join the heart upon the sleeve.

“Really? Am I that daft?”

Children learn by one burn from the stove’s hot top. I do this every weekend and add mental retardation to the list of my deficiency. Doubly so as the splintered bits of recollection are collected from the editing floor. A strip here, a segment there, drama displayed in a 50 foot horror show, “Attack of the Drunken Boob”.

“I am never getting out of bed.”

Doom and Gloom are kiddy rhymes in the bed of shattered memories. Broken conversation take demonic faces and laugh with a Jackal’s jowl. Worst than a bad acid trip, the flashes flood back to the cortex in uncontrollable spasms. Watch thy own self fallen down the bottom of the barrel.

“Or ever drink again!”

More promises to break in the weeks, days, hours, and minutes to come. The hair of the dog eases the pain and temporarily breaks the lycanthrope curse. I can stand on my hind legs and walk like a man. Free to take one down, pass it around, and wake to more horror in the morning.

The Lost Goddess By Tom Knox

From the Author of “The Genesis Secret” and “The Marks of Cain“, comes a thrill ride adventure through the sordid nooks and crannies of our academic world.

“The Lost Goddess” is the story of “civilized” travelers and their journey to discover the truth from the villages and governments who want the world to forget.

The story opens in a remote part of France, where Julia Kerrigan, a young archaeologist, is at the end of a what seems to be a fruitless journey to find a reason behind her prolonged sabbatical. Though even as her hopes dwindle, her tools uncover what could be the find of her life. A trove of undiscovered skeletons, many with strange holes in the heads and ancient arrowheads riddled through their bones.

And in Cambodia, an equally lost soul Jake Thurby, who has been traveling the Jungles as a Photo-journalist, teams up with Chemda Tek, an American educated returning native, as she seeks to uncover the mysteries behind the Plain of Jars, where Pol Pot had knowingly sent many of his educated citizens into a live mind field. To discover the reason behind his motivation, the pair are set upon a deadly course.

Though it’s not long before tragedy strikes all around. Jake and Chemda arrive at their hotel to find a body hung in the doorway over a pool of blood. Back in France, Julia’s mentor is also viciously murdered. A demonic killer, born and breed on vengeance, lurks in the background and weaves the loom that threads together a history of violence that continues to their present.

Tom Knox, is the pen name of author and journalist Sean Thomas. And “The Lost Goddess” is a fictional narrative eloquently spiced with real life events. Knox has spent a career traveling the highways and byways of the Globe and collected more than a few story-ready gems along the way.

In the depths of Cambodia and Laos, Knox gained inspiration for his newest release from his fascination with the history of the communist Khmer Rouge regime, where one of the worst holocausts in history occurred. And of the curious impact of Pol Pot, years after his passing.

The dictator was the head of the Khmer Rouge organization who sought to stomp out religion from their country. Though when Knox returned to Cambodia, he found Pol Pot’s tomb had become a shrine. Thus the man, who intended to stomp out God, had become a deity himself.

Such is the theme that carries Julia and Jake through an unyielding adventure to question the very nature of religion and it’s effect on the human condition.

The Lost Goddess, Tom Knox’s new page turning thriller, hits shelves today. Don’t be the last one on your block to explore the world’s violent history through the eyes of a man who has seen the results.

Somedays, you wake up with a nicotine headache and computer eye strain. You haven’t shaved or showered in a day, maybe two, and your face shows it. There are new pains in your knees, wrist, and vertebrae. John, Paul, George, and the Shining Time Station’s Conductor start to sound groovin.’ NPR has become entertainment. You open up a newspaper, magazine, and the occasional book of nonfiction. You are old, but there is no way to stop it.

Somedays, you should have got a Brooks Brother’s suit and become a social vampire. You should have went to an institution of higher education and allowed yourself to be molded into the cookie cutter. You could have been a marketing executive and set your mind to swindle the general public. The infusion of graven images to public icon is big money, if you can bare to sell a little more of our soul. You could have been something or made something out of your life, but you didn’t.

Somedays, you come to the full realization this is your life; the cluttered desk, bathroom, and kitchen. This is the thing High School prepared you for and you find yourself to be ill equipped. You wake up. The calender says it is Monday. You know Monday is a day, but have fuzzy logic beyond that. Mondays used to mean something, like the start of the week. Now, you cannot fathom Garfield’s frustration.

Somedays, you wonder if it all worth it. You haven’t seen the Ocean in two months Two months is eternity to a sea side life. You miss the small stretch of beach at the end of Winnacunnet Road. Over the seawall and beyond the street light view, where the stars dance to an ocean roll beat and fog horn tune. Celestial bodies collide in meteorite showers to her lullaby.

Somedays, you are faced with the question “So what’s wrong with you, why no significant other?” and you have no answer. You can’t comprehend how someone would want a common face in their life, yours or theirs. Your distrustful of the ones who will have you and you want the ones who won’t. Every horoscope you ever read says work on your craft and the rest will play out. The advice appeals to your Virgo logic and you put trust in the cards.

Somedays, you think Steve is right. We live in 50 years of The Beatles and wonder if the band should still cover the face of pop culture. Every year, new bands are spawned and new voices take the scene. Yet, you hear no love on the radio dial and the Beatles remain important. The music is adapted, while the message is unperceived. No voice to broadcast the meaning and music lost its soul, but its face is printable a million times over. You could be that voice, but there is glitter and pretty lights to distract you.

Then somedays, everything works out. The birds chirp out a tune and the universe begins to make sense. You fear the other foot’s fall as calm waters lead to stormy weather. In this moment, you reach for clarity. You strive for perfection and keep back it’s ugly form of self molestation. You keep in mind your choice to get out of bed, your choice to become responsible. The streets are littered with the humans who gave up or gave into a holy life. You could be one of their numbers and the choice is your only freedom.

The introduction of cable into my own home drove the final nails into the coffin of my procrastination. Flesh of living dead burned by the light of day.

Yet, the fall happened much earlier in defeat, a white flag waved and aimed at an unjust world view. Far too large to fail and broken at the core. Life intrudes upon intentions and reality dissolves into wavy, hazy, tones of acid colored chaos.

The hounds chase the fox in patriotic colors. The Pied piper leads the rats past the sewer and into the great race, for God, dog, and country. Blind leaders storm the valley of Cyclopes, where the two eyed man is destine for striped shirts and cafeteria style meals.

The point shines as Tinker-bell’s light, it scurries from here and there. Avoiding, escaping, and always just beyond reach. Rain falls upon the windscreen, as the wipers bolt too and fro. Miles to go into pitch blackness with drivers asleep at the wheel.

Veering into on coming traffic, back to the point shone brightly through the droplets of water splattered over a plane of glass. Words and metaphors collide as warriors clash across a battlefield.

Stand not far from the fray. A slow jaunt back into the swing of axes and ring of swords printed across the front page in thick black fonts. No direction maps out the path and wooden signs point in all directions.

The mighty stand at the way side, with eyes of hawks and motivations of greed. The meek walk in the shadows with eye pointed down and feet kicking rocks. History revolves as planets move around a bright ball of heat.

Souls cast into a fiery pit of third-world, cracked, baron earth. Green is the color of the Emerald city where the grand Wizard is nothing more than the long con played out on a city of Dwarfs. More than hot air fills the balloon that carried him over full spectrum of color cast against tones of blue sky.

Past the mirrors reflection and into the wonderland of tea parties and games of croquet. The hand cover the face and spin, in a race with one constant turn. Daylight blinks nighttime and a traveler sits.

Though every ride reaches a destination in the form of conclusion. Change become the fulcrum stationed at each set of crossroads. To ponder, to plot, and on to a path.

In the modern age, we have a multitude of choices on how to acquire the food we crave. However through the many choices of flavor emerges two categories that encompass the whole.

Delivery or Drive*?

The question is simple and reflects a crossroad of choice. Do you have the energy or will for a trip to the grocery store or would you rather have someone else drive to your door? While the question may invoke lazy regrets, both options are perfectly reasonable.

The option of delivery is a simple no stress, no mess solution. You can pick up the phone, call up your local restaurant of choice, and gladly tip the delivery driver for his time.

The option of drive is a bit more active and takes up more of your time. However the added amount of activity upon your part is shown through a lower cost to your budget and more objects placed into your pantry.

While a trip to the supermarket can easily total hundreds of dollars, in the constraints of this article we shall keep the example drive option relative to the cost of delivery. We estimate the cost of most delivery to be about 20 dollars for a household of 2 or fewer.

Below we will explore a couple of recipes than can result from a trip to the supermarket for about $20 worth of groceries.

As a mini-disclaimer, the area which I live has some of the highest grocery prices in the county and the numbers are estimated from my own Hollywood experience. Keep this in mind as you may be shocked at the price difference from your own region.

Grocery List

1 Whole Chicken – $7 pre-cooked $6 cooked
1 Bag of Baby Carrots – $2
1 Bulb of Garlic- $ .50
1 Onion – $1
2 Bags of Frozen Vegetables (mix of corn, peas, or whatever your preference) $3 for both
1 Package of Bay Leaf $2
1 Box of Dry Noodle Soup Mix $2
3 Potatoes $1.5
1 Bottle of Italian Dressing $2
1 Roasting bag $2
Total -$23

While our shopping list is not an end all be all, it does assumes a couple things about your pantry. I assume that you may have a semi-filled spice rack, with at least salt, pepper, maybe even some Thyme.

There is also no room for drinks in our example budget. However the cost of liquidation amounts to no more than $2. While this brings our total to $25, the extra $5 is about what you might pay in tip to the delivery driver.

With our grocery list from above, we will now show two recipes that can be accomplished from our choice of drive. The first is a roasted chicken, that I like as it leads to our second recipe. Chicken Soup for our Rockin’ soul, where we will turn leftovers into an all-day meal.

In our grocery list, there was two prices for the different chicken choices. Many supermarkets sell both a roasted chicken in their deli section and an uncooked whole chicken in the meat section. Why the cooked chicken is cheaper than the uncooked version, is beyond me.

If you chose to get a cooked chicken than forgo the onions and carrots. Bake a potato, simmer a bag of vegetables and you are good to go. If you enjoy cooking then follow along with us.

Roasted Chicken

Ingredients
1 Whole Chicken
2 Cups Chopped Carrots
1 Cups Chopped Onions
4 or 5 Chopped Cloves of Garlic
1 or 2 Potatoes
¼ Cup Flower
1 Roasting Bag
1 Bottle of Italian Dressing
1 Bag frozen Vegetables

Step 1: Preheat Oven

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Step 2: Mix the Vegetables

In a bowl mix the Carrots, Onions, and Garlic. Then shake the bottle of Italian dressing and pour over the mixture of vegetables to your own preference. I use anywhere from a ½ cup to a cup. This will be used to stuff the chicken.

Step 3: Stuff that Chicken

First unwrap the chicken and be sure to pull out all the innards, commonly found inside the bird in a plastic bag. Then use cool faucet water to wash off the outside and inside. Now spoon the vegetable mixture inside the bird until the cavity is full.

Extra bonus if you run a stick of butter over the outside of the bird and add a liberal dash of salt and pepper to the skin.

Step 4: Flour the Bag

Open the Roasting bag and add the ¼ cup of flour. Then close the bag and shake to coat the inside with flour. Then place the bird, stuffed from step 3, into the bag and put it all on a baking sheet. Use a knife to poke a couple holes into the top of the bag to release steam. Now you are ready to cook.

Step 5: Make the Chicken Roast

Place your ready to go chicken into the oven and let it go for 20 minuets at 425. After the 20 minutes, reduce the heat to 350, and let it cook for the remainder of the time noted on the cooking instructions that came with the chicken. Normally this is about an 1½ hours.

Step 6: Make the Sides

When you have about 40 minuets left until the chicken is done, grab a potato or two. Use a fork to stab into the potato three times on each side. Coat the outside with a bit of olive oil, with salt and pepper to taste, then place the potato into your oven. Next to or on a rack below your cooking chicken.

Also start the water to boil or simmer the 1 bag of frozen vegetables. Then follow the instructions on the bag to completion.

Step 7: Golden Brown Chicken Skin

When you check the chicken and the skin has turned a nice golden brown, you are ready to pull it from the oven. Let it sit for 5 minutes, carve, and enjoy with sides of Vegetables and Potato.

Leftover Chicken Soup

Ingredients
Leftover Chicken Carcass
1 bag of Frozen Vegetables
Remaining Garlic Cloves
Remaining Onions
Remaining Carrots
Remaining Potatoes
2 Package Noodle Soup Mix
3 or 4 Bay Leaves

Our second recipe is a nice next-day follow up for the leftovers from our roasted chicken. The soup takes hours to cook but the many hours are far from labor intensive as most of the time the boiling pot will do the work for you.

Step One: Fill the Pot

Place the remaining Chicken Carcass into a pot and fill with water. Add half the bag of Frozen Vegetables, half of your remaining Garlic Cloves, some onion, and Carrots to the pot of water. Place the pot on your burner at medium heat. Cover and let cook for about 2 hours.

Step Two: Strain the Bones

There are a couple ways you can do this. I have a stainer that I place on top of another pot and pour one pot into the other, letting the bones and stewed vegetables stay in the strainer. Place the pot, full of chicken broth, back onto the stove at medium heat. You may also season to taste, I even add a healthy dose of chili powder to give my soup a kick.

Step Three: Let it Cool, Daddio

Let the strainer, full of the chicken carcass and vegetables, cool. Now you can add the remaining ingredients to the recipe into the pot. Be sure to cut the potatoes into cubes. Once the strainer is cool, you can remove the bones from the chicken and toss that into the simmering pot as well. Cover and cook for another hour or two.

Step Four: Please Sir, May I have Some More?

There you go and ready to go. Fill up a couple of bowl and be pleased as you took one night’s meal and made it into two. Do you feel like Jesus? We know we sure do.

*Drive as in the inner core ability to commit acts and not a trip by car. We at ANF promote the use of Green technologies to propel us in this world.