Once You Turn 60,The Only Reliable Support Is Not Family, But These 5 Pi...

Appalachian American Ennui and Antinatalism

A man who lives in the next county over, and who does not even know that he is part Jewish, has taught his eight year old granddaughter the Nazi Seig Heil salute. Her mother is the eye witness and can do nothing about it because her production of offspring has hemmed her in to her the monster's home where she is stuck. Antinatalism should be taught in the schools. "Motherhood mean mental freeze." And I just learned that the ruining child called a little boy a monkey because of his race. The man in the next county over is grooming another monster in his trumpian image. This is AAE at it's worst. This is the rule, not the exception, in these Clinch mountains that lean in order to hide these snug pockets of sadness from the rest of most of us.

Miss Wallace, rethinking her career path

My Brother by Another Mother - Michael Paul Smith - Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone; and I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry

The link to his music appears below his picture. https://www.bandmix.com/michael-p-smith/

Michael Paul Smith: Fast Forward

My heart breaks for you, Michael.  When I look at this picture of you, my eyes try to play tricks on me.  They conspire with my consciousness to create the ostensible lie that whispers to me that you're always sad, constantly depressed, and steeped in continuous loathing, all based upon this almost incomprehensible visage of the countenance that prison has heaped upon you.  I have to remind myself that you probably smile, or laugh even, and that this photograph is a spark that was pitifully, sadly captured nanoseconds before you grinned out its proper opposite. I've heard the joy of prisoners as they discuss their retarded anecdotes, while coughing out loud.  It's what J.D. Salinger meant when he wrote of  the rocking back and forth "between the grief and the high delight."  I, too, am intimately familiar with both extremes, one more than the other. So we share that, and a cruel father and that's about it.

BETWEEN THE TEMPLES | Official Trailer (2024)

Check all the boxes. This is a great movie. Well done.

The Law is a Hateful Thing.

Ida Miller nailed it when she uttered these sage words: "Paul, the practice of law must be a hateful thing." Indeed it is, Ida Miller. I suppose that I inadvertently taught her this truth, which condensed this awful reality. It's no coincidence that she uttered the maxim when she did, like synchronicity in real time, because my recent experiences with my practice drew out hordes of hatred in me. Yes, I was successful, but this time I actually harmed another human being in obtaining my client's desired result. Her arresting officer was a young woman whose dream had been realized when she got her badge. I saw the bodycam and dashcam of her going out the arrest of my client, and, quite honestly, she did everything by the book. She was compassionate in the process of detaining my very troubled client. This is the exception. Please know that. Jenna worked her case like new recruits normally do; everything by the book. In fact, this was her first arrest. And well done it was. So my job began when I was retained. The matter lingered on the docket for months and months, as is the norm. We had hearings. Motions. I even retained the serives of an expert witness from the University of Tennessee. Our trial date was set. November 8, 2924, which was yesterday. During the course of my representation I was told that my victim had earlier been forced to resign her position as a police officer. With trial approaching, I did what I am actually required to do as directed by the sixth amendment to the constituion, and its state counterpart. To provide "effective" assistance of counsel. So I filed motions to reveal the undergirding reasons Jenna was forced to resign, and I subpoenaed her personnel file as well as herself. I was agressive through the agency of pure exploitation of the perceived weakness that I now saw in the State's case. As I am now old, this conduct on my part in pursuit of my practice bites very deeply into my conscience. I used to feeel practically nothing when engaging in similar strategies. But, in this case, which ultimately resolved to my client's satisfaction on account of the harm I did to this young lady in putting her in fear of having to testify about the mistake that cost her career, I got sick. I am still sick. Physically, I my stomach has revolted against me. I can barely eat now. And mentally, I have lost much of what I had gained in overcoming depression. I deserve this hell that has now had hold of me for a week now. My mind an body have revolted against me. I am sick and I ought to be sick. I think I should see this as a warning. So many criminal defense attorneys drink this away, or worse. I see it in their elderly faces when they come to court bloated and red. I honestly feel like I would welcome returning to the earth, but that is not up to me, so I suffer. Suffering is baked in to this life, and my time has come again to suffer and am left exsanguinated. I take solace in the justice that it has brought to the fore. I want the world to be underpinned with broad justice, so maybe this is evidende of that. I do thank god that I realize this. I am aware. I have a conscience. I am depleted, but still here. The moment this kicked in, I immediately felt my age. Mind, too, that I've been a professional keeper of secrets for 34 years. Thick folders, accordians, and bankers boxes full of them.