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Top 10 Gems from the Misfits

Valentine’s Day is coming, you best get on it:

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Top 10 Gems From the Misfits

The 1980s would be the best of times, the worst of times a pivotal decade of transition between the 1970s free-loving hippies discovering what truly matters most in life: Money is everything, greed is good, nothing is free.

It was during the 1980s that the yesteryear hippy would find their authentic yuppy selves. Apparently, the hippies only wanted “free-love” when they were high and did not have the money to purchase top-shelf poontang. Once they got their youthful fill of drugs and “free love” they would enjoy their right to play hard on their earned yachts, which could only get upgraded by taking the “fair share” from future generations. A “war on drugs” would conveniently begin to fill the increasing for-profit prison systems, a liveable minimum wage would grow into an unreasonable demand, and anyone that dare complain against such systemic greed would be easily shouted down as spilled milk of whining “socialists.”

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The eighties would also see the phasing out of the bell-bottom pants and the Burt Reynolds/Ron Jeremy/Magnum P.I. bear-hair man rug chests. The classic handsome fur-man would be overtaken by the pretty headed mulleted chap showing off shaved dude breasts and tummy tums by wearing their far too comfortable cropped, half shirts.

Do not laugh ladies, for the 80s woman was no better.

It was all too common to see the 1980s matrons in active competition to grow their towering hair of Babylons to the sky, kept in place, with so much hairspray that it broke the Ozone layer. Plus, a typical sight from the eighties lady was the pancake of so much makeup, one would often be left to wonder if she was either on her way to a costume party or on her way home from some kind of freakish Crayola gangbang (yeah, that was not a typo, you read it correctly).

Throughout the decadent decade, a wall would fall, significant explosions would occur, and the omen to the 1990s kids would be seen by the 1980s death of a dreamer.


The music of the day was a fine representation of the era metamorphosis. The 1980s saw a vast explosion of music with the invention of something known as MTV.  Video would kill the radio star, with an explosion– a new music revolution was everywhere, to even include the cartoons. The reconstruction began as a “Celebration” as everything was all Kool and The Gang… but by the 1990s, only those to expect the roses were those that also held the guns. The newest generation of youth would learn along the discovery to Nirvana, a harsh lesson of an “I Hate Myself and Wanna Die” reality.

Money Killed the Nihilist Dream

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One of the better known “rock” cartoons remains the 1980s Jem and The Holograms.

Jem and her crew were supposed to be the stars of the show, but let’s be honest, their songs were weak, pretentious, and lame fluffy tunes meant for a mindless group of sameness. With songs such as It Depends on the Mood I’m In, Believe/Don’t Believe, Beat This, Truly Outrageous, and I Believe in Happy Endings, Jem and the Holograms reveal the nature of their soulless rah-rah lyrical blandness.

NOTE: Believe, don’t believe, I too believe in happy endings far more truly outrageous, so J & the H-grams can beat this.

To further solidify how terrible the band is, what kind of group calls itself “the Holograms” when it features blood and guts people? Oh, perhaps the Hologram label is a clever way to say– it is all about Jem, the bandmates do not matter as they are all the same, so who cares? Jem, Jem, Jem, she is the one star, Jem is the gem.

Anyone familiar with the show knows Jem’s “rock” group was anything but. Their songs were pop at best, and hell, the Jem “theme” song featured verses such as:


Jem (Jem is excitement)
Ooh, Jem (Jem is adventure)
Ooh (glamour and glitter, fashion and fame)
Jem (Jem is truly outrageous, truly, truly, truly outrageous)
Whoa, Jem (Jem), the music’s contagious (outrageous)
Jem is my name, no one else is the same
Jem is my name


Jem and the Holograms Theme Song Lyrics

Thankfully, a trio would save the world by refusing to remain silent as they would interrupt and save the theme from Jem’s narcissistic self-glorification by announcing, straight up:

But we’re The Misfits
Our songs are better
We are The Misfits, The Misfits
And we’re gonna get her

Jem and The Holograms Theme Song Video

Unlike the “heroic” self-absorbed, Jem, the Misfits made it clear; they are a group. A collection of outcasts hell-bent on defeating the fake, phony, pretentious, good girl fraudster known as Jem. True to their word, through lyrical honesty and diverse melodies, the Misfits songs are better than Jem’s.

Need a second opinion? Well, here are 6-reasons WHY THE MISFITS WERE THE REAL STARS OF ‘JEM’ 

Unlike the fluffy-lyrics of Jem, the Misfits songs had attitude, real lyrics, and most importantly were honest. The Misfits were the same hard-edged, bad-ass chicks off stage as they were on. Like Michael Bolton on Michael Bolton, that’s how TheDR.World celebrates the entire musical catalog of The Misfits, so, there is no way yours truly can list only 10 great songs. Therefore, TheDR.World will utilize someone else’s list… without further ado:

Top 10 Gems From the Misfits

Honorable mention: I Love A Scandal

10. I Like Your Style

9. I Am a Giant

8. Top of the Charts

7. You Oughta See the View From Here

6. Listen Up

5. Designing Woman

4. We’re Off & Runnin’

3. How Does it Feel?

2. Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

1. Free & Easy


11 Great Songs That Prove The Misfits Were Better At Girl Power Than Jem (Videos of each song included on the link)

There it is, the list of 10 best songs from the Misfits. Please do not be shy to share your opinions on Jem, the Holograms, the Misfits, and the Top 10 list.

To anyone disappointed the list of Misfits in this writing is not the punk band from Lodi, New Jersey– do not fret, do not fear, TheDR.World is going to hook ya up too. However, the next list will not be just a straight forward top-10 list. Nah, that’d be too easy, too bland, and frankly, some bullshit a Jem-type writer might try to pull on the reader, just like the Misfits over Jem, theDR.World’s writing is better.

Speaking of better, either get to finding something for V-D or learn to BangGood. Enjoy

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Do You Even Science, Bro?

It’s almost V-Day, dude, best get on it, bro– or else… you probably can expect not to be getting on it, bro:

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Do You Even Science, Bro?

Do You Even Science, Bro?

An old saying states one should avoid talking about politics and religion. No matter how many reminders of such a statement, way too many are going to ignore the sage advice. Therefore, please consider before engaging in such “friendly” political or religious banter asking:

“What am I trying to achieve by convincing someone else that my views are right?”

Envelope Printing

If one does not have a satisfactory answer, then, why bother to engage others within possible inflammatory situations– without any good reason to do so? Furthermore, a battle of uninformed opinions is a waste of time for there are no viable solutions. Even agreements of ignorant views within a group may seem acceptable or as “right” but still remain an untruth.

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If one wishes to have a sincere dialogue, then, do so.   However, if one only wants to prove someone else’s position or ideology is weak or inferior– you’re likely an asshole, so stop, do not do that– it’s not nice.   Instead of engaging in an empty debate that goes nowhere or turns into a low-level philosophical brawl, how about refocus and try something new?   For example, consider the following hypothetical conversation between a creationist and an evolutionist.  

First, realize the usual creation vs. evolution argument is both unreasonable and unnecessary. These concepts have nothing to do with each other; they are two different things. So, instead of engaging in an irrational conversation destined for nowhere, refocus the dialogue.

Step two, the easy step, understand that effective communication requires truth, fact, and a coherent concentration to express an idea or information. As such, in our creation/evolution case, the evolutionist may wish to describe real, provable details about environmental evolution. Consider the following as a few of the many diverse intrigues found within the animal kingdom.

***A frozen Alaskan Tree frog.

Did you know there some frogs, that freeze, their bodies shut down as they enter into a suspended animation state? Once their environment warms, they will eventually thaw and come “back” to life. This ability is not common among most frog species; it is a derived function of necessity. The frog species that live in colder climates have gained this genetic superpower by evolving to increase their survivability. Freezing frogs are just one fascinating example of environmental evolution. In the name of fun, how about another tale, a little more frightening, than that of the cute frozen frogs?

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Imagine a land where every 3 feet one would encounter the deadliest of vipers with venom so toxic– its bite, is not only lethal, it melts the human skin.

Such a frightening reality does exist, just off the coast of Brazil is a place known as “Snake Island.” Estimates claim that for every one square meter (that’s a little over 10 square feet which is roughly equal to a three by three-foot square) there sits at least one of the world’s most deadliest snakes, the Golden Lancehead viper. To those wondering, how the snakes came to rule this island, well, the answer is through a simple stroke of shifting luck.

Snake Island also is known by the given name of Queimada Grande is believed a result of rising sea levels which cut off the area to the Brazilian mainland. This disconnect created a problem for the newly island-dweller viper population. Since there was no substantial land prey, the snakes had to, and still must, rely upon the native bird population to sustain their livelihood. To meet the new environmental challenges, the Golden Lancehead would have to adapt too.

Over time, the snake’s venom would become five times stronger than it’s closest genetic relatives. Unlike many vipers, the Golden Lancehead does not inject, release, and then track its dying prey. Instead, this snake injects and does not free the victim. Therefore the snakes’ powerful toxins are essential to rapidly break down the tissue to allow digestion of the meal-to-be. For this reason is why the snake’s venom had to intensify far beyond its closest, non-island, relatives. However, there are still a lot of scientific-mysteries surrounding the Golden Lancehead of Snake Island.

Snake Island is off-limits to most humans, only open to a few select scientific specialists. As for why the island is off-limits, some may claim it due to the deadliness of the Golden Lancehead. But, that’s only a half-truth, at best, for the human remains the most deadly creature on the planet. The snake is deadly to humans, but humans are a bigger threat to the snakes. Remember the island’s given name is Quiemada Grande?

Quiemada means “to burn” in Portugese.

The island’s original name is a result of humans trying to burn the snakes into extinction. It was once guessed there lived nearly half a million Lancehead on Snake Island, but most recent estimates, believe the population ranges from 2,000-4,000. The Golden Lancehead is only found on this small island, as a result, the Brazilian government maintains strong control over visitor access to save the critically endangered snake species, not to save the overabundance of humanity. A few scientists are allowed on the island as they seek to answer numerous mysteries about the vipers.

Some of these questions include the snakes struggle to maintain their thin numbers due to fierce competition for food, along with problems associated with massive inbreeding. With such a small population, the inbreeding becomes so rampant that it leads to a high number of hermaphroditic offspring. Unfortunately, the dual-sex Golden Lancehead are usually sterile. Just like years past, the rare species must continue to adapt and overcome evolving environmental challenges if its lineage is to survive.

In summation, there is no point in arguing with others in a non-constructive manner, right? Instead of doing the normal verbal kung fu that goes nowhere, try sharing useful or interesting information with your fellow humanity. Oh, and remember– please try not to be a Dick Nixon, yo’.

*** Not to put in any undue fear into the heart of the fragile but here is to science never discovering one those severely inbred rare snakes have stumbled upon a bird and the pair accidentally made sweet love. Then, somehow the magical interspecies entanglement led to the creation of a super poisonous flying inbred snake-bird that is desperately in need of food. Just kidding, that is probably not possible.

Don’t forget, since, I was able to think of the possibility, it would stand to reason some creepy scientist dude could very well be working on making that crossbreed happen… right now. As noted earlier, humans are the most dangerous creatures on the planet.

To learn more:

*** One final note, a warning– the picture above of the Alaskan Tree frog, is certainly cute, but it appears to be phony. There is no Alaskan tree frog, that is not a real thing. According to Snopes:

The viral photograph displayed above does not show an Alaskan tree frog (since no such animal exists), nor does it show a wood frog. This widely-circulated image appears to be simply a garden ornament that has been covered with frost. 

Fact Check: Can These Frogs Survive After Freezing in Winter

Sorry, my friends. There are species of frogs that do freeze and unthaw back to life, that is true. The reason for my trickery to include a phony frozen frog species that does not exist is to serve as a reminder to check and question everything you read, see, or hear as a means of verification. In a disinformation world, one must never grow complacent.

‘Tis the season to stay inside and get your McLovin’ on yo’– check it out:

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Still Alive: New Creations

Greetings and salutations, friends, foes, and strangers alike.


Gabriel & Co. fine jewelry

It is good to be “back.”   Yours truly never actually went anywhere,  my absence can best be summed as being due to a lesson in humility offered via a swift kick to my reality… yadda, yadda, yadda…  now, I’m back.

As a means to re-establish our connection, enjoy a few new random “art” creations.

Slayermas Greetings: 

Slayermas

Slayermas  Greetings is a dedication to everyone celebrating (or not) whatever works for them.   The whole purpose is to highlight the absurdity around the over commercialized “holiday” season.   The only rules of Slayermas is there are no rules and one should remember to listen to whatever music that floats your boat.  Yours truly came to realize, too many folks let arbitrary societal rules, norms, and mores dominate their existence leading them to be seasonally depressed.  F*ck that, one can be happy, depressed, high, or low– any time they choose, do not believe the hype.  

Along that line of thinking, here’s to enjoying the XXXmas Season’s Pornog:

This “piece” is not going to play well with everyone. Yes, yours truly does celebrate both Slayermas and XXXmas. The purpose is the same as Slayermas, just with a different emphasis. As for the rules of XXXMas Season’s Pornog, there are a few to note. First, the holiday is not dependent upon watching adult films, per se, but to those that do watch such “skin” flicks, it is imperative to watch something different than your status quo.

The legend behind the discovery of this new celebration holds origins within an accident. Once upon a time, a DR was watching a golden goddess by the name of Brianna. Ms. Brianna was kind enough to help a fellow release his inner frustration, as the man seemed relieved, out of nowhere, a fist from the goddess lands square to the man’s proverbial sack. Upon such an unforeseen conclusion, the DR was mortified. That is the whole purpose. XXXmas is not about discovering the new, no, it is all about appreciating what one already is fortunate enough to already have. Appreciation is a good, but often, taken for granted quality among humankind. Be appreciative.

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Did I Bear Enough Today?:

A friend of mine put down an open challenge to all of his artistic buddies. His request was for a bear sitting in a chair, drinking tea, with a human rug. In prompt fashion, the challenge was accepted and Did I Bear Enough Today? would be the end result. Keep in mind, yours truly is down to take a shot at producing special requests– just contact me with the details and maybe something can be worked out.

We’re Going to Build it (THE WALL):

Relax, “Build It” is not so much a political statement as it is a comment on absurdity. The quote mentioned within the piece is 100% legitimately real and authentic quote. The underlying message within centers around understanding one’s inner child and how adolescence frequently holds the mystery of understanding a person after they have long entered into adulthood. In short, one might be able to understand others by looking deeper with a realization that what is commonly seen today– is likely an evolution from yesterday.


Please, remember it is ok to chuck a buck or two as a means to show your grattitude. Also do not forget to tip your waitresses, bell boys, or other service providers generously (as applicable).

To see another new creation, titled: NO Dick PIcs, check out it, along with a few select prints available via Deviant Art.

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Vulgar Display of DR: Celebrate

Welcome to a celebration of previous writings.

Since October 2017,  TheDR.World has gifted the universe with over 100 posts (this makes number #115).  So, it stands to reason one or 12 posts might have slipped by even the most dedicated followers and readers alike.  Relax, it’s not your fault.

Lessons learned, lessons to share

Yours truly has learned a great deal over the past year, not just about writing, but also insights on things such as ego, high hopes, crushed spirits, coping with great articles left unloved and unread.  Experience is often a cruel, sweetless, and lovelessly cold bitch. Thank you, experience.

 

The first worthwhile lesson to review comes via To Serve Man.

The moral of the story, it’s all about perspective.  Besides, where else is one going to learn how unethical psychological “tests” would play a role in horrendous consequence?

As fans of The Twilight Zone may recognize, the title comes from one of my personal favorite episodes of the old Rod Serling TV show.  To those that have not seen it, check it out on Netflix.

Please note, like Michael Bolton on Michael Bolton, when it, comes to The Twilight Zone, damn near every  production ranks among “one of my personal favorite episodes.”

To Serve Man:

To Serve Man

As for Rod Serling, despite not knowing the man on a personal level, his words serve as an inspiration.   Moreover, Mr. Serling’s life journey, along with his shared wisdom assist as both a friend and a muse.  It was Serling that helped me through the lack of support of both family and “friends” alike, or as I refer to it as “my darkest hours of writing.”

As an unmet friend,  it was a real privilege to pay homage to Mr. Rod Serling… a writer, in There is More to…  Not That: That’s Too Much.

 

A couple of favorites

Respect and appreciation are essential aspects to living a non-a-holish life.  Reverence, admiration, and primitiveness are vital themes to a couple of the first articles posted on TheDR.World– the first is a love of natural art, known as A Tree and the second is about bravery as a refined form of art: The Tank’s in the Water is a Happening (Performance as Art):

The Tank’s in the Water

Additional respects would be paid to Shirley Jackson in

Rock, Paper, Scissors (a Literal Metaphor) and to Emily Dickinson in

War, Death, Religion:  A DR’s Truth on E.D.:

War, Death, Religion: A DR’s Truth on E.D. #3

Eye of the Beholder

In Comparison: Your Drawing Sucks highlights a lesson on appearance.

The visually pleasing may not be as beautiful as it seems.   Conversely, that which looks like worthless crap might hold more usefulness and a superior value than the rosy overrated alternative.

Common wisdom

“They” say a webpage must have a “niche” to build a following.  Sure, the time-tested conventional thought has been proven to work.   Yet, the niche of TheDR.World is not based on one given area of expertise about growing a splendid garden, or how to browbeat one’s children into conforming to the rigors of parental and societal demands. NOPE.

TheDR.World’s axiom, the niche, is to write about any topic, at an any given time, in both a unique and insightful way.   In a style one cannot find elsewhere, as there is nothing similar or like it, that’s the niche.

Furthermore, a great emphasis from numerous works aims to dispel and remove the stigma of various everyday life experiences.   These include my personal struggles, along with the battles of other’s I have encountered throughout this lifetime.

Thus, it is with greatest of hopes that the following writing on phobias, along with information on how phobias affect women at a higher rate than men ends up being read by at least one person that needs to know they are not alone.

Also, to whoever you might be, PLEASE understand:

  • You are not weird.
  • There is support and help available.
  • Please take care of yourself.

Life is a struggle, but keep putting a foot forward one day at a time, okay?

Phobia: Nothing to Fear

The greatest lesson of all

As a writer, the most critical part of the feedback process is not flattering praise nor is it empty insults.   In full disclosure, yours truly does get a chuckle out of many cases of abuse– especially those that claim something such as a simple, “You suck” or “Your dumb!”  (That’s right– “Your” dumb, intentional or not–that line slays, it’s a zero to laugh your ass off moment, true story– KEEP it up!)

The best part of being a writer is to produce a work that captures a reader’s emotions, attention, and sometimes, praise or ire.

Most of the responses = blah, boring.

On one of my proudest writings (it is on Quora), some dude took the time to state:

“Ok, thank you for explaining. Your work isn’t very good if nobody “gets it.”

FYI, I love that dude’s insult attempt.

To which, as a sign of admiration, yours truly took the time to respond to said dude:

That is one way of looking at, I do suppose. Another view could be that some readers seem to have a willingness to pre-judge without even bothering to absorb the written words. As for what classifies as good, bad, boring, exciting, etc., well, classifications seem to be within the eye of the beholder. However, if telling me how terrible I am makes you feel superior or something, by all means, have fun at my expense, it’s cool.  Just as long people take the time to check out anything I’ve created, they have the right to judge said works anyway they choose, that’s their right. Yet, in truth, I only take constructive feedback personally to heart. Also, it is my hope that you will check out TheDR.World, read more of my stuff and tell me all about how terrible I am. Thanks again for taking the time to voice your opinion, sir.

Yet, it would be one of my responses to another fellow that took time to tell me how much I suck that, in part, reads my greatest truth, which is:

Sure, it’s easy to criticize, but if I’m such a chump, why not just write a better answer?  Apparently, to some, such an achievement should not be all that difficult.

I do appreciate your time spent reading my answer.

My view, as a writer, the best part, is that I write to satisfy the feelings within me. Honestly, one person enjoying, learning, or thinking with a different perspective from a writing equals, again to me, a success.  Based on the feedback, good and bad, this particular answer has given some people in the world-at-large something to think about. So, I’ll take whatever comes my way, because I achieved my given goal. If the writing was perceived or called boring, I would then feel a tad bit disheartened, otherwise, I’m cool.

  • Writing is not about popularity.  
  • Not everyone is going to “get” or understand a given work
  • AND that is okay. 

What really matters, what defines a “good” writer is to possibly help another human being out or to give the world something new.

 

 

To the reader that has made it this far, a few insider gifts:

The name, TheDR.World derives from yours truly making fun of all the insert team name NATION!

Years ago, I thought the oversaturation was, well, frankly lame.   My first joke meme creations would be labeled with the “DR World.”  The way I saw it, there were too many nations, and the WWE had the term universe locked down, but World?  Never heard anyone use it, so… why not?  I stuck with using the name, and the “THE” was a natural addition.

As for my darkest writing experience, so far, the harshest period stemmed from the personal desire to impress one person.  Needless to say, said one was not much of a fan of my writing, nor apparently, me as a human.  This struggle for approval was the closest I have ever come to quitting.

Well, sort of.   

It was not my intent to quit, but the distress of rejection was so strongly overwhelming, yours truly temporarily “lost” my creative ability and confidence.  As for “the story” it does not end well.  Frankly, it sucks, but the hollowness of the experience did toughen me up.   Since then, no longer do I care about impressing anyone with my writing.  Turns out, that freedom equals total liberation.

My sincere thank yous & dedications to the following:

25 Nov Cover DR

Thank you, Dan, Dana, William W., and Leslie.  My appreciation is limitless, THANK YOU ALL!

  • Infinite praise to the platinum-tongued “Dickish” Damn Yankee for the elite crash course in Chinese fluency:  谢谢
  • Props to the 1959 Mike Wallace Interview featuring Rod Serling.
  • Mad respect to Pantera’s Vulgar Display of Power.  One of my favorite jams from the album and a personal life motto remains– Unscarred by trials– A New Level.  #DimeForever
  • To my friend Debbie, not a day passes without thinking of you.  You shall never be forgotten, my friend AKA “baby.”

Here’s to another year, I promise to keep on keepin’ on– Until it Sleeps… So tear me open but beware

Check out ALL the friends of TheDR.World which include:

The Devil You Know by Evie

and

Phoebe M.D.:  Medicine and Poetry

As Xmas approaches, remember it’s the thought that counts, as such, do yourself or any of your friends a solid and give the gift of “Sleeping with The DR”:

Sleep with DR Pillow Case

Also, consider doing me a favor– if any of TheDR.World articles are helpful, interesting, or worthwhile to you– by all means, share ’em far & wide to friends, foe, and strangers.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

Darrell

One final puzzle

As Xmas approaches, Did Santa F*ck Charlie Day’s Mom?  Yes or no?

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Life Interruption: A Letter to a Queen

This week marks the second anniversary of another call that changed my life forever.

In November 2016, I was notified of the death of my only sibling, my younger sister, Lisa.  The exact reason for her death remains a mystery, her autopsy report confirms this fact.  Nonetheless, what is not debatable, certainly no mystery is the grim reality that misery and loss surround us all.

The truth is, our finale, no matter who we are nor how we live– will result in the same end, an identical result– death.  To most, the fear of one’s eventual doom may overwhelm– but so what?   There’s not a damn thing one can do to avoid the inescapable, so why bother?   A more terrifying focus of one’s energy may be better spent facing the reality of never having been alive.

What was that excuse again?

Not enough money?   Not enough time?  Don’t wish to miss this week’s episode of a favorite show?   Whatever it is that might occupy one’s livelihood, understand– each and every trade-off has consequences.   Also, understand, if one trades everything to be a vagabond, a world traveler, a rover of great curiosity to explore and chase a dream, well it too comes with a unique price.

A lifetime of choices, decisions, and actions that one hope will ultimately lead to somewhere wonderful, fantastic… and perfect– but, face it, pal, there is no “perfect” life. There is no one right way to live.  No matter what one does, at some point, there will be a realization, a moment of regret, a strong desire to have a “do over.”

I get it & come to know  

When facing death, looking the end right in the eye, most folks will not think to themselves, “Damn, I wish I’d have spent more time in the office, worked harder, and enjoyed life less than I did.”  Nope.  What matters in the end, is to have been more available, to not have lived a life traveling one definitive road, to have been more impulsive, while at the same time, not overly impulsive.  So, please, remember– perspective.

In full disclosure

There is a distinct difference between me, Darrell Roberts, the human and the writer.

Me the human

The “real” Darrell is guarded, low-key, and protective of my relationships, my experiences, my shared secrets, and the day to day life operations of my world.   As I see it, if someone wishes to “know” the real me– take the energy, the time, and interest.

Those brave or intrigued enough to do so will likely learn a whole lot about the life and times of a simply complicated person and his beautifully ugly tragic feel-good life story.   However, most people, at least in this day and age, are more interested in doing other things.   As a result, they don’t worry about the likes of me, I can respect such a choice, no problem.

 

Me the writer

First, as a writer, few people believe you are any different than all the other wannabe-jamokes trying to be a success in something you definitely suck at.   Blah blah blah, words– who gives a f*ck?  Get a “real” job, you lazy dick.   Or something along those lines, it’s easy to see that look on their face.  Certainly, to an extent, they are correct– many people overestimate their uniqueness, their talents, and ability to do something they are not cut out to accomplish.   I get it.

Yet, here’s the thing, one either has something to say and is constantly gifted by a muse to write something uniquely different, wonderful, and provide a gift to the world or they do not.  Those that do not, they flame out, they end up moving on to doing something else.

After writing over 200 published works in the past year and a half, the challenge of one-upping your previous works is one that seems improbable, impossible, but also a test to find out and prove your endless divinity to produce a work that is even better than before, this time will be your “best.”   That best… well, it never comes, so the process continues onward.

Over time, some may give into the easy pressure of popularity– just write some easy, oversimplified, popular motivational words, tales– that although welcomed and lauded, are really just empty bullshit.   These writers do not feel it, they just write what they know will play well as a means to make money or to stoke their ego.

That’s not me.

My muse is a struggle, there are stories to tell, there are those that need my assistance, need to hear my words, they need my help.   To me, what defines a writer is not money, not fan followings, it is not being told how great you are, it’s all about making at least one reader feel something they did not feel before.   Whether that “something” is anger, happiness, sadness, or inspiration– well, that’s not ultimately my decision, but at the same time, it is.

More times than not, my creativity or muse is enough to tell a story effectively, as there is just enough, a glimpse, of my inner being injected into my words to create a remarkable written product.   It’s a struggle within me to battle and conquer the fear of bleeding on the page.  Some writings, such as this one, require a guarded, low-key fellow to expose his true self– to be vulnerable, to be a possible subject of ridicule, and perhaps, whether fair or not, to face judgments, and prejudices.

As a writer, sometimes there is no choice, one must be authentic, truly an open book, to be effective, to reach the ultimate goal, especially when trying to help others.  Why would anyone take advice or feel inspired by someone that lacks the guts to be honest and truthful?

To the would-be writers,  if one thinks superior cleverness wordology aided by deception tactics will dupe readers into buying fake authenticity, good luck– because that BS ain’t gonna happen.   The master reader sees right through a phony, they also can spot the exceptional, the original, the genuine writers.

A true story

Recently, in a relatively impulsive moment, yours truly would decide to take a visit to one of my favorite places that remains determined to kill me– upstate New York.  For whatever reason, from Syracuse and areas northward have to ALWAYS go out of the way to fuck with me, it’s just how it is.   Odd enough, upon my arrival into Syracuse, the overcast skies gave way to the sun making a for perfect New York day.

A short drive later, I would be meeting my daughter for a few days of Popz/Queen time.

The time spent together was wonderful, meaningful, and worth the risk of once again facing the ‘Cuse curse.   A few non-intrusive highlights include me and my baby watching some of my favorite and still morally relevant episodes of The Twilight Zone.

Inside a common dollar story, we would even encounter a really pissed off lady yelling at an old dude attempting to operate the cash register.   “Faster you old jerk, I’m late for work, scrub,” Ms. Pissy yelled.

Proud me would talk the fiery dame down, even getting her to lighten up a little bit.  Odd enough, the angry woman was my kinda bitch (if you know what I mean).   As I told Ms. Pissy, “If I was from this town, I think we’d be friends.”

The fortunate days shared with my daughter were needed and appreciated.  However, due to previous commitments, on the day of my departure, I had to fly out at Zero-way too early in the AM dark thirty.   Therefore, I chose to take a brief evening nap, then enjoyed a few hours final hours of my Queen’s company.  When she went to bed, I chose to remain awake, packed up my stuff, and then sat thinking a bit before hitting the road back to the Syracuse airport.

During the stillness of the final night of my visit, an overwhelming sadness would course through me.   I was already beginning to miss my daughter.  Still, even worse, the years past of rarely being able to see her all came crashing down.   My chest tightened, anxiety grew as it became difficult to breathe, the moment was a sad reminder of regret, remorse, and wishing to have a “do over.”   Recognizing the emotional significance, I pulled out my pen, paper and wrote my daughter a letter.  This letter would await her when she awoke, after my departure.

With her permission, I will share that letter.  Honestly, per our conversation, I felt my baby girl would be more disappointed if I did not share the note from her popz.

Ladies and Gentleman, again with her permission:

A Popz message to a Queen

 Dear Andrea,

My Queen.  You are & will always be my Queen, the love of my life, the greatest love of my life.  Thank you for your time, it was great seeing you, being around you.

It makes me sad to leave.  It makes me sad to have missed so many days of your life.   For that, I will always be sad, always be sorry.   It was never anything I wanted, every day hurt, made me sad.  I would give anything to have done everything different.  You are a fantastic young lady & I am proud to be your popz.

Unfortunately, time only moves forward, as such, I wish for you to know– I would do anything for you, I love, I adore, & I cherish each & every day I’m lucky enough to be your popz.  You are a beautiful spirit living in an ugly world; please do not let the world get you down, always keep being you– the beautiful spirit, the most wonderful Queen.

Andrea, I hope you find the happiness you want & deserve in this life.  Never give up on yourself or your dreams.  I love you most of all, my Queen.

Forever & proud to be your popz,

I love my Queen– Popz

 

The moral of the story is– nobody is perfect, not you, not me, none of us.

We all make mistakes, have regrets, and deal with our remorse, pains, and struggles in various and likely different ways.   What matters most is not the past, it’s the now, it’s tomorrow, the following tomorrow, and the days after each of us are lucky enough to have until our grand finale.   This moment, RIGHT NOW, is within our control.   Sure, there will likely always be barriers and outside influences, but each of us should choose our own attitude and personal desired destiny.

So, as Thanksgiving approaches, do yourself a favor– take the time to forgive someone that may have wronged you in the past.   Even if the offender is not sorry, or if you cannot or choose not to contact the forgiven-to-be– still pardon them inside your mind, heart.   Do it not for them, but for yourself.

Nothing is guaranteed, take the time to tell those that matter most how you feel about them, while you still can.   After all, life is short, the days are numbered, the passing of each day is one step closer to the end.

Thank you for your time.

Popz loves his Queen.

A DR plea:

Attention one & all. Tis the season to feel good about yourself.

Please consider doing me a solid & helping out one of my favorite people, a lifelong friend, and a wonderful human being. Obviously, I understand some might not be able to make a monetary donation, but every little bit helps. As such, you can still spread the word, far & wide, just by spending a few minutes out of your day to treat someone the way you’d like to be treated. Thank you for both your time & consideration.

linda

To read more about my plea or to donate

 

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Grievances & Inspiration: From a Buddy

Just when ya think there are too many memes in the world, well here…

Have some more, eh?

Out of personal frustration of seeing an infinite number of no-talent assclowns post someone else’s memes and somehow believe themselves pseudo-geniuses, a decision was made.  Why not produce my own unique concept– as a means to encourage people a) to recognize their own creative potential and b) to show a distinct difference between the ability to read, identify a funny picture versus being able to actually produce your own?

Ironically, the someone else’s meme imps still receive far more credit than they deserve while the original productions are largely ignored.  One must understand, to me, this fact is absolutely hysterical comedic gold.   As a neighborly critic, few things are better than being proven right about the given society one critiques.

To wit, the cultural basher, such as myself, still serves a necessary function– to evaluate, analyze, and offer scathing commentary on the plight of the contemporary times.

The only bright side of the internet meme comedian is– well, at least their attention whoredom centers around making others laugh– not like those internet meme political experts, right?  Those poor derps, those that pass along, half-truth, easily disproven political ideologies written in a simplified meme format, you know, just because they agree with the words equal the worst.  Political memes do not make one a highly knowledgeable legislature-to-be and please, PLEASE, start fact-checking before sharing bullshit, yo’.   Thank you.  #SadButTrue

End of grievances.

“Buddy” DR

There is a back-story to “Buddy” DR, a script has been completed detailing the whole legend.   However, yours truly is trying to figure out and decide what format would best serve to share the tale.   If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, please pass them along.

Currently, my self-debate choices are between using an article, a comic, or maybe a video platform, but time will tell.   In my biased opininion, the story is well-developed, entertaining, and has potential– hence, there is no reason to rush into a premature release.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, Buddy DR:

*Note, most of Buddy DR’s humor comes from old, commonly told and shared jokes, that have been around forever.  A few are original, but most are not.  The reason being, in truth– Buddy DR, just like all the other meme comedians, is not a professional humorist, not all that great at making up or writing great jokes, again, that’s the whole point.

Bingo:Buddy DR Last Thing

Buddy DR Bat

Introducing the YOLO Messiah: Buddy DR Sammich

A small spoiler from the Buddy DR story, the YOLO Messiah might resemble Shia LaBeouf, but he’s actually, among other things, the world’s #1 Shia LaBeouf impersonator.

A famous 69’er once claimed everything he did he did for you.   Sadly, even then– she still broke his heart, buddy.

She said he was just a friend, she said he was just a friend.   But, oh baby, you know– she screwed that dude– that she said was just a friend.  #SadButTrue  #GetThatSammich

“Not me, I’m different, baby,” said the platinum-tongued he-man vag-slayer-to-be:

Buddy DR Not Like Other Guys

***Note, in the beginning, Buddy DR did state, “The last thing I want to do is to hurt you… but it’s on the list.”   Well, his “humor” is not always meant as a joke.
Thank you for putting up with such ridiculousness, it was fun.

Please understand, the underlying intent of yours truly, TheDR.World, or Buddy DR is not to enlighten the zombified mind of the collective mass groupthink crowd, life’s too short, and that is not a battle worth fighting.   The purpose, what it’s all about is to that one “kid” or “nobody” or even if you’re 85 and still alive with a dream to think different, be different, then as Shia might say, “Just do it!”

Stop listening to the naysayers and be a do-whatever works for you type of human-being.

As a final reward, words of wisdom from Kenny “F*cking” Powers aka KFP:

“Enemies can appear in our lives out of nowhere. A stranger who cuts you off in traffic. A dude who looks at you weird in the men’s room. Or treasured friends who betray you out of jealousy. But when enemies do rise up, they must be dealt with decisively, on animal instinct.

Mortals falter. Kings act.

And the mortal who acts, well, that mother f***er becomes King.”

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The Zero Probability = P(More Than Nothing)Sq.

Binomial.JPG

Mathematically speaking:

Nothing from nothing equals nothing.

Nothing times nothing equals nothing.

Nothing plus nothing equals nothing.



In a math-based world, this concept is correct (nevertheless, for the sake of nerd sanity (self-included), it must be noted ‘nothing’ should technically be zero).

Probability summation

In uncomplicated terms, a probability must be greater than zero, with the sums of every outcome tallying to a perfect 1.0.   A fairly easy principle, right?

For example, consider all the possible explanations to the following true story (swear to deity 100% real).  Recently, on a sloppy, rainy day, I placed my garbage can by the curb.  No surprise, but later, when retrieving my empty refuse bucket– what do my eyes behold?   An equally sloppy as the day “rubber.”   One that at a quick glance, looked to have been used and somehow this dong cover found a way into my yard.  But, it’s not mine… trust me, I would know.   So, whose condom, eh?  More importantly, why does it look used and why is it on my lawn?

Sample Space

Let’s examine several plausible explanations.

Perhaps, said man-cover fell out from a neighbor’s trash can, then, magically would end blowing, being carried, or flung into my life– seems unlikely, but possible.

Or, maybe it was some dude’s way of asserting his dominance over me after finishing pounding my ex’s snootch to smithereens?  Why?  Beats me.  In full disclosure, any fellow that turned that coldish prude hot deserves applause.  Bravo, Mr. Slayer, sir.  Carry on, stud.   The feasibility of this explanation seems low.  Now, that does not mean it did not happen, (who knows?) because people are weird, no?

Conceivably, the case of the rubber may have been a random staging area of a comedically childish prank, ya know… just ’cause.

Another believable hypothesis might center around a wild animal (or even a domesticated critter) stumbling upon the man-dong fun wrapper.  Reasonably, the jizz sack ensnared an unidentified creature, tighter than an octopus on a cockle Clinocardium Nuttallii, so, the then-terrified mammal ran faster than Forest Gump to escape and finally shake it off, doing so conveniently, in my yard.  Sounds completely believable and highly doable.



***Note to self, keep an eye out for future condom wearing vertebrates.

There are also a billion other reasonable explanations to reveal how the testicle nut seed catcher found a way into my life.

The preceding was just an illustration of how difficult statistical analysis might be, but one that clearly got carried too far (kinda like the rubber on my lawn).

Back to Business

So, let’s narrow the focus to reduce infinite down to just two, a bi-choice, between achieving success versus the agony of defeat via failure.  To accomplish this goal, just ask the right question.

To prove questions do matter, please answer the following:

  1. Regardless of one’s deity preference, is there a supreme being, an omnipotent higher power, a god?
  2. Do all humans die?
  3. When you fell from heaven did it hurt?
  4. Does a bear sh*t in the woods?

 Answer key:

  1. Who knows for certain, but in the end, the answer is either yes or no.
  2. Human death equals, up to now, yep, 100%.
  3. Yes or no are the only possible options to whether the freefall from paradise hurt.  However, let’s not kid ourselves, most of ya(s) were more likely to climb from the pits of hell– obviously, there had to be pain involved– ya filthy demons.
  4. Yes, bears do sh*t in the woods– but they also use Cottonelle toilet paper. According to a number of commercials, bears will use all your toilet paper too– if you don’t keep an eye on the prickly ass-wipes.

All the above yes or no enigmas, no matter how clever or well-thought out the response would end up the same on a data scientists clipboard, either as a superior one or as a mere zero.

In the coldest reality, all of us are reduced down into either a zero or, if fortunate, elevated to a one.  In a world full of billions, how special did you any of us truly are?

Go on, mull it over.

People Math

Certainly, we’re not all only mathematical calculations… NO, NO, NO.

If that were the case, we’d be lucky.  Here’s the deal, the reason mathematics works is that everyone, far and wide, old and new, eventually accept the same exact formulas and agree upon the results, based on then-universal truth.

Thus, in the billions of people on people probabilities constantly calculated around the globe, there are random assignments of 1s and 0s.   However, there are no agreed-upon rules nor formulas, and as for universal truth?  Haha, with humanity?

That shit ain’t happening.

There’s nothing worse than being a happy 1 with your 1, only to become a zero– to your 1– damn.   Few things result in overwhelming pain and anxiety as the questions grow and swirl:

What went wrong?  Was it something I said?

Something I did?

Did a new 1, maybe a genuine 1.5, come along?

Please answer.

The sound of a Chirping Cricket 

There are some things more detrimental in life than trying to talk to the living, only to receive the same response as if one is trying to communicate with the dead, but the list of superior misery inducement is small.

Who does not know the overwhelming feeling of anxiety?  Just my learned view, but the worst distress stems from the power of the unknowing, the uncaring, the realization of a hope lost and lingering puzzles unsolved.

Then again, if those enduring mysteries were explained– would they be clarified with honesty?  If yes, would that really be a good thing?

More shall follow…

Prob writing Part 1 11 Oct 2018

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Random New Creations #3

Please enjoy, or don’t, some random new TheDR.World creations.   All creative folks looking for an outlet to expose your voice to the world– please, contact us.

Let the journey begin with a solid tip from Buddy DR & THE Truck Nutz of Truth:

Buddy DR bat

First up, a personal favorite:

“My Third Suicide will be the Best.”

My 3rd suicide
My Third Suicide will be the Best

The inspiration for “My Third…” came in an unusual manner.  Late at night, yours truly was on my way to bed– when “POOF.”   Suddenly, an idea for a short story popped in my head.  As anyone that has ever written anything knows, inspiring ideas must be written down when they come or else they will likely be lost.   However, the easiest way for me to remember the newly formed tale– was through creating the above picture.  It was imperative to adequately capture the emotions that the story stirred within me.  The artwork did just that.

As for the written story, it’s still in process and will be exceptional.  In full disclosure, the tale is in the re-writing stage and there’s no rush to finish it.  I’m torn between publishing it on TheDR.World and having it being read by a few vs. submitting it for publication or a competition.   It’s imperative to have as many eyes read the finished work.

Next Up:

One Day Closer

One Day Closer to the End
One Day Closer… to the End

“One Day Closer” is all about the fog taking over humanity.  Everywhere one goes, it is common to see folks more interested in whatever they are looking at or whoever they are talking to on their phones.  They’ll run you over, whether on foot or in their vehicles, they don’t care.   PS, after overhearing a phone conversation or 12– those conversations are not that interesting.

WAKE UP!

The real world still surrounds you.  As for the artwork, one might notice a few “trapped” people (such as the guy in the moon).   Are these folks truly trapped souls or are they the living trying to save the lost masses from the engulfing fog?

That is the underlying question.

Now, onto a mindlessly obvious piece:

Churning Butter

Churning Butter
Churning Butter

Look close, figure it out.  Although it may seem “hard” the underlying theme is no Davinci Code.

One may only die once, technically speaking, but emotionally?

Death = Rebirth

death equals rebirth
Death = Rebirth

My own personal struggle is to blame for Death = Rebirth.

Perhaps, I’m not alone in feeling torn between being a “nice” guy and a chump?   In this particular instance, no matter what call I made– it would have been the wrong one.   In truth, the whole thing was a set-up, I fell for the ploy, and ended up in a no-win situation.  But, there was nothing to “win” anyway.

In the end, what matters– I foolishly allowed circumstance and others to modify my attitude– that was wrong.  My being and life-posture is my choice, mine alone, and I should have never allowed anyone else to determine how my day goes or my attitude.

For every yin– there is a yang, or so they say.   Introducing the natural foil to Buddy DR & THE Truck Nutz of Truth–  “Dickish” DR & THE Blue Balls of Lies:

Dickish DR camera

 

Like TheDR.World on Facebook (or don’t, no worries).

Don’t forget to check out the products, such as the kick-ass cups & more at TheDR.Store.

Last go around, I suggested checking out an artistic treasure (if you haven’t already, or even if you have)– music video “This is America.”

In the spirit of true greatness within the Gambino offering, TheDR.World suggests an older video that most folks may not have ever seen.  Whether one “enjoys” the song, that’s not overly significant.

Ladies & Gentlemen, enjoy (if you dare) a video of a fictional war entirely seen through an eye’s reflection in Eyes of the Insane by Slayer.

As an additional final gift, you can check my various questions and answers on Quora (I’m everywhere & yet, nowhere).  As an example, here’s my offering to the challenge of

Can anyone write a short story in 5 words?

I wrote several.  Are they good or not?  Meh, judge for yourself:

One lived, the other died.

Momma said, “Don’t do that.”

Do I know you, friend?

Would you look at that?

Never even saw it coming.

Did anyone ever really care?

Menaced laughter frightened us all.

How? I was really drunk.

So, there I stood alone.

Undoubtedly, this is the end.

 

A sincere thank you for all those that read, like, share with others, make monetary donations, and purchase items to support TheDR.World. 

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Dude, You’re Bleeding on The Page

How does one accept the unforeseen gift of pain?

 

Certainly, the creative inventor can feel the spark of pain’s underlying muse.  Just as long as the cut is quick, but also deep enough to allow a nice gob of blood to drip down upon the page.   Timing is everything, it’s crucial to turn the internal torture into a splendid gift, a gift of suffering.

Maybe, in time such anguish will lead to gratitude.   If the scar bearer can conquer and capitalize upon a life of wretchedness, they might possibly yield enough fame and fortune to make the beautiful disaster worth it– as it makes, dollars and cents (or sense), right?

Then again,  such “success” could serve as a catalyst to re-open wounds, never allowing for complete healing.   The surrounding universe that loves to gawk at grand tragedy, may penetrate the old cut, seeping into the bloodline.   Left untreated, the synergetic combination of the world and wound slowly gnaw away the insides.   Eventually, all that is left is a shell, hollow within.   How sad is an emotionally empty elite suffer genius?

In the cruelest of ironies, the most formative years present the greatest opportunity to produce wonderous misery perfectly matched with passion, hormones, emotions, and enthusiasm only found during the youthful bloom.   To add to the spectacular potential,  in the young, the previously undiscovered misery and despair is mint, fresh, a virginal first, the purest of maidens.

If only a child or adolescent possesses the ability to verbalize, lyricize, or visualize these internal earthquakes– they could then capture and etch a disturbingly wonderful moment that endures for eternities to come.

Assuredly, all people experience, at some point or another (and again), an encounter with various life discomforts.  Like beauty, trauma, also, is in the eye of the beholder.

Under ideal circumstances, almost anything could damage the psyche.

you are bleeding large

Conceivably, when a first-grade child enrolled in a new school, a number of the little girls might think the new kid is “so cute.”   So, the little vixens-to-be grab the boy, hold him down, put their lipstick on, and smatter him with their glorious ruby red kisses.   Now, this is certainly a welcome experience to this particular lad, one which he will likely never forget.   He has arrived.   Then again, often the best dose of reality seems to randomly reveal itself via the hand of surprise physical harm.

In the case of the Rosie-spotted boy, it turns out, an onlooking gang of lads also had a  grand welcome in mind.   Not to be outdone by the girls, the crew decided to hand-deliver their hospitality too.   Yet, instead of bestowing sweet lips of innocence, the little troupe went with a disjointed effort to display their young fu, which consisted of punches in bunches, a little bit of spitting, gouging, twisting, and mocking.  Oh, the innocent taunts of the young, learning how to hate, how to hurt, and how to ridicule others with phrases they have heard but likely have not yet discovered the meaning.

“How ya like that faggot?”  Whack, boom, pow, bang.   “How you like when I beat it out the frame with my cockmaster, you little shit?”   Bang, pow, boom, whack.

Obviously, not all experiences are the same. 

Possibly, in the grand scheme of life, the adult version of the loved victim reflects upon such a wondrous tale with a reminiscence of glee– as those may have been, by comparison, “the good old days.”

Conceivably, life doles out a long list of character building opportunities such as all those times daddy had to let his fist provide parental guidance to his personal punching bag, his pride and joy?   Unmistakably, each and every time one gave daddy no choice but to administer closed hands to the head is memorable, but the surprise of the first time makes it… the tops.

Maybe, the kid’s mommy was also fond of doling beatings which featured fewer fisticuffs and more foreign objects?  Silly mommy, over the years, a boy grows too big, acquainted, and the luster of drubbings from a smaller foil lose credible impact.  Silly mommy.  Nonetheless, Mommy is no dummy, she may recognize evolution’s reality– turning from the cracking to verbal shattering.

Who could ever forget sweet mommy affirming, “I regret the day you were born, you son of a bitch,” right?   Such an exceptional long-lasting sting, for a momma’s boy, this could be a pivotal transition to a carefree and soulless life.   Of course, momma might have recognized the damage of her words and would always apologize– but to no avail.

If you love a soul, set it free, but don’t expect it to return.

Unfortunately, most youths are ill-prepared to cope with their new lifelong buddy, known as Mr. Misery, the tricky beast that yields emotional anxiety as if it was a strategic saber.  Misery does his business, to give a little poke here, a slight jab there, as he blandly whispers, “Oh, you’ll live, but this sh*t is about to get and stay interesting, my friend.”

Such a struggle is already a problematic affliction, therefore, for most adolescents, trying to express an overwhelming generosity of rack’s substantial charity remains a tad bit out of their reach.  Such a mysteriously bittersweet tragedy.

Yet, by the time one reaches adulthood, the pains of yesteryear have come to define who ya are.   “Look, it’s just another weathered, beaten down, excuse making, wannabe king of pain.   Well, get in line, pal– behind all the other once celebrated f*ck trophies turned broken beings with their long list of grievances, hardships, and excuses.   Sure, you’re unique, just not all that special.   It’s too bad you didn’t bother writing down that really sadly cool story, back when you had the chance.  Oh, well, that’s how life goes, right?  Perpetually going against you, against me, we’re doomed, we’re damned, but weren’t we always?”

Well?

What?

Until the day of one’s death, it is never too late.  It can all be turned around, rediscovered, the pain let go– release, release it all.   Be shiny, be new.   Instead of being what “they” demand, what “they” tried to create– how about… you do you?

 

buddy DR last thing

 

 

 

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Howdy from St. George, Utah

Please be advised:

The previous article, John Wayne: An Iconic A-hole was meant to serve as a set-up to a discussion on a still unresolved mystery.    A tale that may come as a surprise– a wonderment stemming from John Wayne’s decision to take on a role that he should have passed.  In the mid-1950s, while riding high as a successful movie star,  John Wayne would actively seek to star in ‘The Conqueror.’

The film would feature The Duke playing a character based on a real guy, Temujin.   The basic plot follows Temujin as he seeks to avenge his father’s death.  While he’s at it, he will also try to save his lovely ginger dame love interest.   Of course, Temujin kicks ass, seizes the broad, and will be crowned by his more commonly known name, Genghis Khan.   That’s right, John Wayne took on the role of the Mongolian legend to create his own full Manchu myth.

Today, ‘The Conqueror’ is still viewed as one of the worst films ever made standing not so proudly with the likes of Glen or Glenda, Plan 9 from Outer Space,  Santa Clause Conquers the Martians, and who will ever forget, many folks personal favorite titles– The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies (enjoy the trailer… only if you dare).

 

An Enduring Mystery

John Wayne
Wayne and two his sons with a Geiger counter, St. George, Utah (1954).

If the Howard Hughes based project’s decision to allow a six-foot-four-inch white dude play the lead role as a Mongolian legend was not bad enough, Hughes approval of the location to shoot the film would say, “Hold my beer, buddy. I can topple that bullshit, not a problem, bro.”

Like many movie shoots, when picking a location based on real events– why actually go there?  Why not save some time, some money, and make your film in… let’s say, ugh– Utah, specifically St. George, Utah?

Not only did Hughes and Co. decide on St. George as an ideal location to make their movie, Hughes appreciated the authenticity so much, he would also have 60-tons of the most excellent Utah dirt sent back to Hollywood for Wayne and others to play in during any necessary re-shoots.  Some might wonder, “What’s the big deal?  Are you trying to say– Utah sucks?  Yeah, everybody knows that.  Ok?”

Yes, although Utah does have some beautiful scenery, anyone that has been through the area can attest that Utah, more or less, ranges from kinda to full fledge suck.   However,  the problem with choosing St. George, Utah as a location to shoot a movie in 1954– is due to the government nuclear tests conducted– in 1953.   That’s right.

The U.S. government conducted a series of bomb testings (eleven to be precise) under the label of Operation Upshot-Knothole.   The purpose of these experiments had to include the naturally cool art of blowing shit up, “We got new weapons, ya’ll!”   Also as part of this operation would be to analyze the impact of poisonous blasts on the troops.   Specifically, these series of shellings aggressively sought to examine the effect of radiation as a means to develop counter-defensive measures against nuclear weapon employment.

Don’t worry, the troops were kept at a “safe” distance and only received slightly elevated radiation exposure.   One must remember, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.   What goes up, must come down and vice versa.   Thus, when all those bombs were activated– the troops may have been kept at a safe distance… but the release also created a side-effect known as “fall-out.”   Therefore, the towns, cities, and people downwind of said tests would be exposed to far more radiation for a considerably extensive period.

St. George, Utah is slightly less than 140 miles from where all these government-curious massive bombings.   In other words, the film’s chosen location was a sandy, dry area that had just been exposed with radiation from a heavy fissionable arsenal.

During the 1950s, as a reminder, it was not a big deal for a drunk fellow to slap around his side piece, all because she chose to smoke his last Lucky.   Afterward, the classiest drunkard would jump in his seatbeltless car, pick up a pack of smokes and maybe drink a little more before finally heading home, at a way too late how, and entertain torture his sleeping wife and the couples 1.8 children with the high-class styling shenanigans of a mean drunk.

Again, 1950s classy.  

Cigarettes, drinking, and driving, without seat belts, were all standard practices– nobody cared about some year-old bombs– and why would they?   After all, Hughes and crew did ask the government if the area was safe– the government said, “Yep,” and that was good enough for these 1950s characters– because they still had something known as “trust” in their government.

In 1956, ‘The Conqueror ‘ would see its release not be a box office conqueror.  Hughes and others would work to stifle future crowds from obtaining, laughing at the miscast movie, and life went on.  It is safe to say, outside of obscure bad movie buffs, little to no attention was paid to The flippity flop Wayne Khan movie.

Nearly 25-years later, The Conqueror was back!

In a November 1980 People magazine article, the following revelation was made:

Of The Conqueror’s 220 cast and crew members from Hollywood, an astonishing 91 have contracted cancer, PEOPLE has ascertained. Forty-six of them, including Wayne, Hayward and Powell, have died of the disease. Another star of the film, Pedro Armendariz, survived cancer of the kidney four years after finishing the movie—but killed himself in 1963 at the age of 51 when he learned that he had terminal cancer of the lymphatic system.

Did filming a movie in a downwind nuclear radiation area really lead to John Wayne and 90 other cast and crew members developing cancer?   Was The Duke murdered by a curse of the truest G ever, Genghis Khan?

At this moment in time, nobody can say with high confidence one way or the other.

However, current wisdom holds that Wayne and crew’s various types of cancer were not likely due to their film shoot.   Yet, there is still a relevant and credible debate as to the impact the fallout may have had on past and present inhabitants of St. George, Utah.

The moral of this tale is straightforward– in hindsight, humanity is not as smart or knowledgeable as they may wish to believe.  The world has always been, currently is, and will likely always have questions and mysteries that are not answerable by then-day modern smart people also known as “experts.”   As a solid word of advice, be wary of the impact unknown technology may have when mixed or introduced into your surroundings.   Also, it should be noted, regardless of the circumstances– one should probably try to avoid overexposure to radiation and chemical fall-out.

PS, the purpose of this writing was also to set up another, but the next up will be a bit more of a creative surprise.

Until the next time, oh, there will be a next time, Buddy DR reminds all:

DR Buddy no matter what