I was asked by a niece to review my teenage years, this is what came out

1: How do you remember your teenage years? The best year of my life was 12, because at that time I was in full possession of faculties, I had no insurmountable problems, relationships were easy and simple. As I moved ahead life became more complicated, but I remember my teenage years as being an incredibly wonderful period of my life with very few negatives in it. I had good friends; my parents were not too involved in my life because frankly they had their own dark secrets. I also was forming a philosophy of life that has stood me well over time. There is no god, killing others is wrong, I control my destination, others control my destiny etc.

2: When you were a teenager, what age did you consider old? Honestly, I thought 30 was old because I had friends of that age who seemed to be moving into a weird twilight of marriage and responsibilities.

3: Did you know your grandparents? What do you remember about them? I had little to do with them, they would parachute in and out of our lives and were from a foreign culture and time. It was only much later, in college that I realized what a hypocrite my grandfather was and how tyrannical my grandmother was. At no time did they appear as parents of my parents.

4: What are the three greatest pleasures at this stage of your life? The three greatest pleasures of my life at this point is simply the wonder of seeing what will be coming at me next. The sheer wonder of developing the skills of a lifetime and putting them to their final test and the ability to remain full of wonder at this incredible world. There is nothing specific, there is only the joy of living.

5: What are the greatest hardships at this stage in your life? The one’s we impose on ourselves. The fact that I am not the person I was five years ago and that I can now look at the end of my life with the certain knowledge that I cheated death at least three times, and that it will get me eventually. Also the realization that as time shortens, some decisions should have been different.

6: What is the key to good health? There is only one key to good health and that is to stay healthy, once you head down an unhealthy path, it’s hard to get off it. All the good stuff is on the unhealthy path, drugs, food, alcohol, cigarettes, etc.

7: In general, does our society respect or ignore seniors? My society respects them with a sense of awe that your generation will never understand, my seniors saved our asses from Hitler, and your seniors may have screwed up the world. Put that into the proper perspective if you can.

8: What is the biggest issue facing seniors? Staying alive and relevant.

9: How could have better prepared for this stage of your life? More money, it is shocking how badly we are entering into our older years.

10: What advice would you give young people today? I have one simple piece of advice to every member of your generation, and you take it as far as you can. Always multiply your options. By that I mean the more options you have, by either learning a skill or a way of life, the less chance that you will be stuck in a place you don’t want to be. By reading about foreign cultures you will realize that you can actually go there and be that. By working on cars I learned that anything that has been built, I can repair. By keeping up with music I learned to listen and progress. The day you feel that you are running out of options is the day you know that you are dead.
One other thing, and this I learned from two heart attacks and a brain hemorrhage, never ever give up on life. Whatever happens to you is a happening, when you die, you are not happening. There are lots of dead men walking on our planet, people who would be better off admitting that they died a long time ago, and never woke up
Final note, never accept another person’s philosophy without taking it apart, that means deny god if you cannot explain his presence, deny politics if they make no sense, deny anyone the right of life or death on anyone else because the only certainty is being dead, and lasts for a long time.

Lest we Forget
It was a quiet dinner party, a few friends, some family, even people I had never met before. It was a comfortable evening in a small Belgian suburb of Brussels where ideas were exchanged, experiences shared and discussions coming and going with no particular direction. It was a nice time, good food, impeccable wines bred from good taste, solid dependable upbringing, good breeding and decent schools.

Into this quiet and tranquil pond suddenly a large rock hit the surface and rippled out, and continues to ripple in my mind, three years later and an ocean and continent away.

As I recall, the conversation went from what does an American do when he returns to Belgium with his children, in my case I always took my daughter and son to Fort Breendonk between Antwerp, where I was brought up, and Brussels, the new capital of Europe. Breendonk was where the Germans assembled the Jewish population of Belgium before sending them east to Auschwitz, Bergen Belsen and other extermination areas. It is a place where political prisoners, resistance fighters and harmlessly insane people were sent to die. It is a small piece of a puzzle that all Americans should know about.

“But Peter that is such old history, why would you impose such horrors on your children?” asked one of the guests. “You have to understand the context, the times were different, the Jews owned everything and they were resented. It is no wonder that they were rounded up and killed.”

The year is 2008, the place Belgium, a small country. Belgium is a small country with a big heart that fought like tigers in the First World War, and put up a stronger resistance than their neighbors in France during the Second World War. And yet in this living room, a gentleman who was too young to have been in the war, a product of twelve years of Catholic upbringing by the Jesuits and university studies at one of the top Belgian Catholic schools calmly mouthed an explanation for one of humanity’s greatest crimes.

Being an invited guest and in the absence of any negative reaction from the rest of the guests I did not react at the time. Later I had the opportunity to revisit that moment with some of those who were present. They all agreed that it had been an appalling statement, and we all agreed that something should have been said or done, and yet none of us did.

This could be why, forty years after the holocaust, with Pol Pot, Tutsi, Darfur, Burma, Serbia and countless ongoing genocides, no one still has the nerve to just stand up and tell his friends and relatives that it was and is wrong to kill people. I certainly regret to this day not opening my mouth.

The Gay Victim.

Welcome to a shadow world, a world where children walk in fear of their parents trying to confront questions to which they have no answers. A world that will ostracize them, bully them and eventually even kill them. They are trapped in the cruel reality that their bodies are not what everybody else's bodies are. They crave what others fear and loath.

Welcome to the world of gay America, a land that forces its citizens to perform incredible mental, psychological and physical gyrations just be allowed the right to exist. It is a world where they are advised to lie and dissemble, that in the pursuit of that most precious commodity, love, they sneak around in fear of their own feelings and lives.

These are normal people, they are your family, your friends and your business relations. They are the ones who cannot defend themselves because in many cases they are not comfortable with who they are or what they have been told they are. They do not live in a closet so they cannot come out of a closet. They are already out there but often wish they had a closet to hide in.

Most are grateful to live in more enlightened times and places, but vast parts of the world, most organized religions, political parties, the Boy Scouts of America, schools and countries ban them. No wonder, with so much unfounded hatred, very often they die not for what they do but for what they are.

Hitler routinely put them to death, so do Muslims, Ugandans, South Americans and other primitive cultures. In America we are more subtle, don't ask don't tell for the gay warrior who will put his life on the line for a country that in reality abhors him or her. In California, with Proposition 8 outlawing gay marriage, the least attractive aspect of our inhumanity was given the right to bray its ignorance. The proposition passed with a slim majority, funded by that Utah based organization that encourages well dressed men to travel together in suspicious community.

Again, there is no argument here just the usual hatred of those who are not like me and probably not like thee. In Germany jews, in America and around the world, gay people.

My advice, as usual when you are being singled out for attack, lay low, make noise and wait for enlightenment, take heart in the fact Zeus is gone, can Christ and Allah be far behind? With religion dying, your day will come.

Muslandia for Women

In the mythical land of Muslandia women hold an honorable place. They have come from further back than the men,faced greater adversity in fighting slavery and subjugation and recovered so much of the space taken over by their "betters"; males from all over the world.

They have also developed a fine sense of irony aver time, an irony that translates into keen insights on how Muslim women in the rest of the world see themselves. The simple wearing of the head scarf has, in and of itself, become a benchmark. In Muslandia you wear a headscarf because of the cold because they know that only the kept women of the dead prophet wore the scarves so as not to be bothered by the demands of the followers. Muslandian believers, and yes there are true believers in this make believe land, know that the wearing of the scarf is really a vast act of arrogance since the wearer truly believes that she is one of the dead prophets wives, concubines, mistresses or just plain whore.

In a way this is no different than those Christian ladies who wear a wedding ring because they are, in their minds and hearts, the brides of that other famous dead but undead prophet, Jesus Christ. Although Muslims as a rule have no problem with polygamy,as long as the male of the species is the bride collector, Christians as a rule tend to shy away from it. The brides of Christ appear to be quite comfortable with the idea of the unfaithfulness of their Lord.

In Muslandia, women are the equal of men in all ways. They have established that right through centuries of putting up with their oppressor to a point that even the oppressor had to admit that he was a dick. How many times have the actions of one side of society lead to the destruction of the innocent on the other side? How many times has it been obvious that there is always a better solution than bashing heads or planting bombs. As the Muslim world descended into the chaos of self immolation, it was the women, with their clear idea of how the world should be, who steered their sisters into Muslandia, and to their eternal credit left the doors open for the idiots to enter and learn and like.

But as we all know, Muslandia is a mythical land that exists only in the minds of of those who hope one day to transform their mythology itno the reality of the real world.

Welcome to Muslandia!

Muslandia is a mythical place, a place where Muslims can come and actually live as real human beings and not Prophet Surrogates or PS'. There are very few connections between Muslandia and the real Muslim world because the real Muslim world is not a happy place.

In Muslandia, for example, women are not required to cover themselves with bags over their heads, or tents around their bodies. On the contrary, women are treated as normal human beings with feelings, intelligence and respect. In Muslandia you will actually see Muslim women driving cars, treating sick people and talking to their male counterparts without shame. Muslandia is a dreamworld for Muslim women because it is so far from the reality of their existence that they dream of Muslandia every day.

In Muslandia no one feels the need to kill people in random acts of violence as dictated by the Prophet, and Prophet Surrogates do not take it upon themselves to tell others how to dress, what to read, what to believe and how often they have to bang their heads on the ground. Atheists are tolerated in Muslandia because we all have moments of clarity and doubt, and in Muslandia those moments are tolerated and even encouraged because humanity progresses on doubt, not certainty. The long list of people that Muslims have to detest and abhor is pretty much reduced to fairly normal groups such as assholes, dictators, over bearing preachers and anyone who invades your space. In Muslandia you are not allowed to kill these people, which is a big surprise.

In Muslandia education is an ongoing thing, new ideas are forever being brought forth, challenged and accepted or rejected. Really old books based on dictatorial dogma get changed, reviewed and adapted to Muslandia's time and not the other way around. Books are allowed to develop a life of their own and take on a life of their own. Small children read fairy tales and sorcery books and Muslandians approve and encourage reading.

In Muslandia, fairy tales like the Koran and the Bible are given as much credence as any other fairy tale because all words are born equal in Muslandia. How they string together in random thoughts is not a topic for debate or hate, just wonder. The paper they are printed on is the same paper used in Muslandia's famous toilets. And who is to say which usage is the most useful?

Yes Muslandia is a lovely place, it is a place so far from the reality of the real world that it has become almost the other Mecca, the Mecca we could all visit if the real Mecca was not such a closed shop.

STOPPING THE OIL SPILL NOW

EMT specializes in alternate fuels and has experience in environmental security concepts. The following is our best effort concept to prevent further damage from your oils spill off the Louisiana coast. Please don't hesitate to contact me or to pass this on. I sent a preliminary concept to your online suggestions email, but I am concerned that it may be overlooked. I have spent many years in PR and handled press relations for the Canadian nuclear group, Canatom, during Three Mile Island. I realize that your team on the spot is probably overwhelmed with just trying to keep abreast of the damage control efforts.

Please excuse the rather off the wall naming of the idea, but I believe that in the strange world of the Oil People, the name will at least give our ideas a 15 second recognition factor. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call me.

A way to arrest the oil spill from the BP Platform
The Kevlar Kondom Koncept
Summary: The effort to date have been aimed primarily at capping the well head without spending the time or effort to understand how best to recuperate the oil and pumping it back into the system. This proposal will allow for 95% of the oil to be contained in a storage facility as deep as the surface of the ocean to the wellhead floor.
Once contained within that storage it can be pumped out into large tankers who will deposit it directly into the Louisiana processing center.

1) Concept:
Manufacture a Kevlar or other suitably resistant sleeve that will have an interior diameter large enough to encompass the wellhead as well as the surrounding ocean floor. We estimate a 30’ diameter should be sufficient, but are still waiting for actual dimensions of the project.
The bottom part of this sleeve will be in the form of a rolled up and sealed ring that when lowered will conform to ocean bottom, provide a flange-like extrusion and be flexible enough to shift as the sea bottom shifts. Heavy mud, such as pumped in the recently unsuccessful TopKill operation can be injected into the flange.
A one way valve of sufficient diameter will be placed at the base, but on the side of the flange to allow water to be pumped out as the oil pushes upwards
The sleeve will rise from the bottom to the ocean surface in a sealed and uninterrupted tube, with no leaks or openings.
On the surface, a large floating doughnut, for want of a better term, will rest on the surface with a retractable top to allow sealing off of the tube. It is believed that this may be required in order to optimize the ability of the oil to propel the water downward and ease the work of the water expelling pumps.

2) Operation:
The bottom flange is lowered along guiding cables anchored to the sea bottom in order to completely surround the wellhead.
The flange is filled with heavy mud so that it rests securely on ocean floor conforming to undulations of the floor. Mud is then pumped inside and outside the flange to completely seal off the sleeve and pin it to the bottom of the ocean and avoid the entrance of any water.
As the oil rises, it is rising in its own column and independently of the surrounding ocean. Although the weight of the oil is a delta factor, the volume displaced is not, so water can be expelled from the bottom of the sleeve as the oil rises.

3) Result:
You will have created a flexible storage tank about a mile high and 30’ in diameter containing pure oil at the surface which can be pumped off as it rises and shipped to the processing facility in Louisiana.

4) Why this will work:
It is pressure independent because it is a “soft” solution based on ambient pressure and conditions
It immediately isolates the oil from the water in its own environment
It allows the flexibility of increasing or decreasing pumping ratios
It will permit all parties enough time to review their options and come up with a permanent solution
It will allow repair operations to be performed inside the sleeve in a “sterile” environment
It is relatively inexpensive compared to other operations because it allows the recuperation of the oil for sale.
It uses existing technologies and materials that can be used should this type of disaster ever occur again.

Shit Happens, or does it?

It is a very old expression, something along the lines of Kismet or Inch Allah and it explains nothing and allows for horrors to be repeated.

Shit happens and thousands die such as the elections of George Bush. Yes the shit happened and its name was George. Shit happens, and the coasts of Louisiana, Florida and who knows where else the shit will happen, and yes here again shit happened and its name was Halliburton and BP.

You see shit has a name, and those names can be published and punished. Shit never just “Happens”, it needs a helping hand, a murderous incentive, a need for someone to come out on top, and as the other expression goes, shit floats. Yes, shit does float and who is floating to the top, usually the biggest piece in the toilet, here again that shit has a name, Halliburton and BP.

Make no mistake, when the dust clears, the shit will hit the fan, the guilty will be pursued, but not punished and how do I know that shit, because BP provides the majority of the petroleum products our government needs, that’s right. Our planes, boats and trucks that we send around the world to defend our way of life are doing it on BP petroleum. As we say with a hint of surprise and humor, no shit?

We all know that money talks and bullshit walks, and the money is on the big boys, not the little shrimp and crawdads. So when all the people who live on shit’s creek have lost their paddles, then we will know that BP and the oily boys will be there to sell them a new one. What the small fry should be seriously considering is ripping them a new one also.

But, again this is not new shit it’s the same old shit from long ago. This time it will wash up with the dead birds, fish and other innocent animals. It will be sucked up by plants and coat the bayous and the marshes. And once again BP and Halliburton will act as if their shit don’t stink as they say down there.