Category Archives: Reblog

TNW – Day 46

Originally published on March 16th, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.

All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t. 

The Nudist War – Day 46

Her skin was smooth and slightly freckled, bronzed with a healthy tan. She had long red hair that hung down, encircling his face. Her deep green eyes studied him intently. They were like pools in an oasis in the middle of a parched, arid desert.

• • •

Jess rolled over, looked at the clock and sighed. “2:00 AM. Maybe some fresh air will do me some good. Can’t be any worse than lying here staring at the ceiling,” she mused. “Maybe a walk on the roof?” She reached over and grabbed the notebook computer on the nearby table and brought it into bed with her. Deftly she opened the lid and scanned the stairwell security cameras from the garage level up to the roof. Seeing nothing amiss, she disarmed the motion sensors between the lab and the roof so as not to wake anyone. “I doubt that they will be coming down from the roof tonight. I don’t think the Zs are capable of scaling the outside of this building,” she chuckled to herself.

She had been cooped up in the lab far too long and desperately needed to get outside, even if it was just on the roof. She grabbed a raincoat from the closet, a pair of binoculars, and her favorite Russian made 410 semi-automatic shotgun. What it lacked in gauge, it made up for with its 15-round magazine. Eddy was asleep in the next room while Tom, Cindy, and Maxine were sleeping soundly in their makeshift accommodations in the break room. Wolf wagged his tail as Jess passed him. “Want to go for a walk?” Wolf whined and wagged his tail excitedly. “Okay, okay,” Jess answered.

She looked through the small window in the stairway door to make sure that it was safe, then quickly unlocked the door with her key. Once in the stairway she immediately relocked the door. She and Wolf quickly climbed the stairs to the roof door. She looked out the small window, but it was too dark to see anything. “We’ll fix that,” she thought and threw the switch that turned on the massive roof floodlights. It was now brighter than daylight on the roof with no shadows in which to hide. She then unlocked the door, let Wolf out, and silently stepped outside locking the door behind her … just in case.

Wolf immediately ran over to one of the floodlight supports and marked his territory. He then ran back and forth across the roof looking for just the right place to poo. With his immediate needs taken care of, he proceeded to inspect the area, stopping here and there to further add his scent. “All clear,” she noted mentally.

The door opened onto the roof next to the backup generators. At this elevation the possibility of flooding was nil and there were no known hurricane force winds that could damage them. Jess stepped out from under the helicopter landing platform and looked up to see the full moon ‘sailing’ through the low scudding clouds. Every so often a wave of light rain washed over her, pushed on by the wind. Jess did a quick inspection tour of the roof herself and then climbed the metal stairway up to the helipad above the generators. Wolf bounded up after her. There she opened the weatherized control box to shut off the flood lights and waited for her night vision to return. “Down, stay,” she commanded. Wolf lay down and proceeded to lick himself.

The wind was cold and damp blowing in from the Gulf. The salt smell of the sea was full in Jess’s nostrils, clean and fresh, unlike the filtered and re-filtered air of the lab. Jess walked over to the edge of the railing and scanned the beach with the binoculars. Nothing. She scanned the streets surrounding the lab building, following them back to the beach. Nothing. “Wonder where they are sleeping tonight?” she mused. The fact that Zs had been in the parking garage the day before was cause for concern. After several minutes, Jess heard a distant wailing cry. It sounded like it was several miles away. The shrieking grew as other voices joined in. It rose and fell in volume as it was carried along by the wind. Wolf picked up his ears and began to whine. It could have been a pack of coyotes or wolves, but these were all too obviously human voices. The chorus of voices slowly increased in number of voices and intensity. The sound sent a chill up and down Jess’s spine. It was suddenly too cold to be outside.

Jess turned, descended the steps back down to the roof, and walked briskly back to the stairwell. “Lets go Wolf. Enough fresh air for tonight,” she said as she closed and locked the door behind them and descended the stairs to the lab.

Interested? Read the >> entire post <<

The Difference Between Men And Women…Very, Very, True!

Oh yeah … this is bang on


couplegfLet’s say a guy named Fred is attracted to a woman named Martha. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner, and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.

And then, one evening…

when they’re driving home, a thought occurs to Martha, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: “Do you realize that, as of tonight, we’ve been seeing each other for exactly six months?”

And then, there is silence in the car.To Martha, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he’s been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I’m trying to push him into some kind of obligation…

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TNW – Day 45

Originally published on March 9th, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.

All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t. 

The Nudist War – Day 45

And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and were not ashamed.

~ Genesis 2:25, King James Bible

• • •

Jess awoke to the sound of thunder. She opened her eyes and turned to look at the alarm clock. It’s luminous face showed 6:30 AM. She reached over to her laptop and brought up one of the outside security cameras. The video and audio indicated that it was raining heavily. “At least the weather is still normal,” she thought before turning off her alarm, rolling over, and going back to sleep.

In the next room Eddy was snoring heavily. When he got back to the lab the night before, they both agreed they desperately needed a good night’s sleep. After several medicinal scotches, they both retired for the night. The DNA sequencing could wait, besides they were making no progress anyway. A good night’s sleep was the least they were due.

• • •

It was close to noon when they both finally got up. Jess was the first one to arrive in the break room. She was drinking her coffee and watching a security camera feed on the wall display. Eddy staggered in. “Is it ever raining out there,” Jess commented. “Are you really sure you want to go back to MAN’s today?”

“I’m sure that I don’t want to go back to MAN’s today, but I’m not sure I have much choice.”

“Why don’t you call him?” Jess smirked.

“Very funny. Why don’t you call him?” Eddy retorted.

“Hand me the phone.” Eddy handed her the phone. She autodialed the Seaside Hotel. “Hello, this is Jessica Munroe, is MAN there? I’ll wait. … Hi MAN, it’s Jess. How are you?”

Eddy stared wide eyed and silently mouthed “What the f…?”

“Glad to hear it. We’re OK. Just hangin’ out at the lab. Ya know, savin’ the world and all. What?” She laughed. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Say, Edward and I need to come out to talk to you about something. When is a good time? Yeah, that’s what we thought too. OK, tomorrow at 10 AM it is. See you then. You too.” She hung up the phone, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“What just happened?” Eddy asked sheepishly.

“MAN said it was too dangerous to be out in the pouring rain. He said to come out tomorrow at 10 AM.”

Eddy was speechless. “I mean, how …?” Then it dawned on him, “EDWARD? You called me Edward again.”

“Go back to bed. I’ll wake you if the rain stops,” Jess offered.

Interested? Read the >> entire post <<

TNW – Day 44

Originally published on March 2nd, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.

All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t. 

The Nudist War – Day 44

He rounded the corner only to see Jess on the ground, covered in blood … As Eddy moved toward Jess, a crazed naked woman came running around the corner and lunged at him. Eddy didn’t wait for introductions. He unloaded two shotgun rounds into her, but she kept coming. A third shot to the face dropped her at his feet.

• • •

“Urrrrargghh glurrrppp … urrrrargghh wrrraccch.” The sound of vomiting came from the behind the restroom door.

“You okay in there?” Eddy asked. It was 4:00 AM. Dr. Edmund Hillary had been up since midnight after getting a much needed six hour nap. He had just come out of the lab to get some coffee and empty his bladder (not necessarily in that order).

“Urrrrargghh … yeah … urrrrargghh.” A few minutes later Jessica emerged wiping her face with a wet towel. “Need more Ondansetron.” she muttered and staggered over to the medicine cabinet. “May as well take more Ibuprofen while I’m here.” She opened both bottles taking a pill from each and washing them down with a swig from a freshly opened water bottle. “I’m going back to bed,” she muttered and headed back to her cot. Eddy was used to this by now. The main side effect of the Interferon was nausea and vomiting, hence the Ondansetron.

“External power is back up,” he said. … No reply … “I’ll tell her later,” he thought.

• • •

Eddy’s relationship to Jess was like that of a kitten to it’s mommy. He was full of energy. She was mellow. He was always pouncing on her with bad puns and good natured verbal jabs. She was long suffering and tolerant. Early on they had developed a special bond. Now that it was just the two of them rattling around in the empty lab complex. He doted on her constantly.

Earlier that morning, just after 2:00 AM, the external power had come back on. The complex had been running on its standby generators for about a day and a half since they lost power. “Good to know that someone is still working at CenterPower,” Eddy thought, not sarcastically – more of a “thank God someone is still alive at CenterPower.” These days one never knew. With the power back on again, the generators shut down automatically to save fuel. Jess had been fretting about running out of fuel, so this would be very good news.

Eddy pulled up the CenterPower website on one of the laptops and discovered: one that the website was actually up, and two that their section of the power grid was back on line. “Thanks for thinking of us,” he thought. As an afterthought, he clicked over to the “Contact Us” page and sent them an email. “Thanks for getting the power back up to the CDC Special Circumstances Complex on Galveston Island. We were getting worried. How are things with you? (signed) Dr. Edmund Hillary, 555-438-9355.”

Interested? Read the >> entire post <<

TNW – Day 43

Originally published on February 23rd, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.

All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t.

The Nudist War – Day 43

A novel influenza virus has been discovered in several bats from Guatemala. This virus is highly divergent in sequence from other known influenza A viruses, and has thereby designated as a new influenza subtype of H17N10. Nothing is known about the capability of H17N10 to cause human infections or its putative pandemic potential.

~ Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, February 2012

• • •

The room slowly came into focus. Jessica rolled over on the cot and hit the intercom button. “How long have I been asleep?” Silence. Once again, louder and with more authority. “Yo! … Edward! … How long have I been asleep?”

“Hold your horses! I’m starting another run,” replied a voice through the speaker, “… and how many times do I have to tell you? … It’s EDMUND, not Edward!” Pause. “You’ve been asleep just over twenty-four hours.”

“Thanks, Eddy.” Jess rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She knew well and true that his name was Edmund, but she loved pushing his buttons. Calling him Edward was a sure way to do it. This had been going on ever since Edmund joined her team two months ago, not long before the first reported case of HZV. Back then she had a team of over two dozen scientists and technicians working under her. Now it was just the two of them rattling around in the empty complex.

• • •

Dr. Edmund Hillary was not related in any way to the famous mountaineer, but this never stopped him from using this similarity as a pickup line. Most of the girls he met were too young to have ever heard of Sir Edmund Hillary, but that did not stop him from regaling them with tales of his famous “ancestor’s” historic first ascent of Mount Everest. As pickup lines go, this worked surprising well most of the time.

Eddy, as he preferred to be called, was the youngest member of Jess’s team, almost two full decades younger than Jess and most of the other team members. He had been hired directly after receiving his Doctorate from the University of Texas, where he had been researching the DNA sequence of the H17N10 bat influenza virus. At the time, Jess’s team was studying the epidemiology of bat viruses, funded by a growing concern that bats could become a vector for cross-species flu transmission. Eddy’s research on H17N10 made him a shoe-in for Jessica’s team.

• • •

Eddy had now been without sleep for over four days. The supply run took longer than he had expected. There had been … complications. Life seemed to be overly full of complications these days. He had told Jess to get some sleep while he baby-sat the lab equipment. He just hadn’t expected her to sleep for twenty-four hours. “Jesus,” he muttered. His eyes felt as if someone had been sanding them with an emery board. His mind was on autopilot. The fact that he was used to running samples day after day, night after night, the same steps over and over and over again, was the only thing that kept him going. “Day 43. Had it really been only forty-three days since this nightmare began?” he wondered.

Interested? Read the >> entire post <<

TNW – Day 42

Originally posted on February 16th, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.

All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t.

The Nudist War – Day 42

They awoke from their slumber and they were very, very hungry.

~ St. Giorgio Romeo, Il Risveglio Morti, circa AD 978.

• • •

“They got it all wrong,” Jessica muttered to herself as she loaded the samples into the DNA sequencer. Safe within the Level 4 Biohazard lab on Galveston Island, Jessica Munroe pushed on for a third sleepless day. They got it all wrong.

• • •

The they in this case was the media, the entertainment industry, the press, anyone and everyone writing about the Zombie Apocalypse. The facts about Zombies had been pretty well established by decades of books, movies, graphic novels, and TV shows. Everyone knew them:

  • They went by many names: zombies, the undead, walkers, biters, etc.
  • They could not be killed by normal means – only a direct hit to the head would work, either severing the head entirely or at least destroying it.
  • Without the de rigueur head shot, a zombie would live forever, regardless of the amount of otherwise traumatic injury it had sustained. A zombie with half its body gone was still a threat.
  • Zombies were immune to circumstances that would kill the living, such as drowning. Zombies could wander the bottoms of lakes, rivers, and other bodies of water indefinitely, posing an ongoing threat.
  • Zombies, although chronically hungry, did not eat each other (perhaps out of professional courtesy). Only the warm fresh flesh of the living would suffice.
  • Zombies were slow and mindless. They shuffle along, stumbling after their victims.

Wrong, wrong WRONG!

Interested? Read the >> entire post <<

We need Iphone



If America had closed its doors to Syrians, there’d be no Steve Jobs and you wouldn’t have your iPhone

It’s well known that the biological father of Apple founder Steve Jobs was a migrant from Syria. If Jobs’s father had not been barred from enterring the United States by a proto-Donald Trump, there would have been no Steve Jobs, and thus no Apple, and no iPads, etc. To illustrate this point, the artist Banksy has created a mural in the French town of Calais that depicts Steve Jobs c. 1985 as a migrant. Calais, which is a collection point for migrants attempting to sneak into the UK, is one of the places in France where support for the anti-immigrant Front National has surged in recent months.

The mural is essentially a rebuke to anti-immigrant politicians in France, the UK, the US and other advanced economies who fail to realize…

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The Nudist War

Originally posted on February 9th, 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Christian Bergman, All rights reserved.

All people, places, and events are fictional … except when they aren’t.

The Nudist War

Would real Zombies wear clothes? The answer could go either way. But depending on the circumstances surrounding the Zombification, the answer could very easily be no. If the Zombification occurred to a hospitalized subject after a period of illness, the subject would be wearing at most a hospital gown. Anyone who has worn a hospital gown knows how easily they fall off. If the subject turned at home, they might be wearing little or no clothing. Either way, once an item of clothing fell off … or was ripped off … it is unlikely that it would be replaced. It is even possible that a newly turned Zombie would preferentially rip it’s clothes off because they were foreign and unnatural.

Start from the  >> beginning << 

INFERNO! Update #8


Someone donated $100 (Anonymous) to the gofundme site for Inferno! The Cocoanut Grove Fire after my post. Thank you so very much.

Additional updates:

Both my sister and I have been in contact with James Prince.


James told us that he wants Goody Goodelle to have a bigger part in the play when he presents it in Boston near the original Cocoanut Grove lounge. I have agreed to scan photos of mom (and I) when I was young to include in the lobby to show that she went on to have a happy life after the fire. My sister will be digitizing some of mom’s old records to also play in the lobby. Who knows, depending on the level of hassle, we might even put them up on iTunes (no promises). 

This has all turned out to be very exciting and unexpected for my sister and I. 

I wish mom were alive to see it, although maybe not as I am sure that the memories were painful.

Eduardo sighted in the Bahamas

Eduardo, that suave and sophisticated Company Man, has been spied (excuse the pun) in the Bahamas

What has he been doing since he was last being seen frequenting a New Mexico brothel … who can say? What brings him to the haunt of that other famous Company Man whose name must be withheld for security reasons Bond, James Bond … business or pleasure?

When interviewed for this story, a local barkeep admitted to serving a patron fitting Eduardo’s description, but said he did not catch his name. “He was cool, that one. Cold blooded. Bit of a spook if you ask me. Wanted his martini shaken, not stirred, with a twist of cricket. His eyes kept darting around as if he was expecting trouble, then without as much as a by your leave, he flicked out his tongue and caught a fly in mid-air. Threw up up a bit in my mouth, I did. Not much of a talker. Left me a good tip though. He’s  welcome back any time.”

Photo Credit Tom von Kapherr

The Deadly Artistic Tightrope of the Peacock…Spider

Some color for a drab pre-winter day …


We are entering the Yule season, the darkest time of year here in the northern world.  Of course we have Christmas and Kwanza and Saturnalia to distract ourselves from the endless cold gloom, but it is still a bit early to write about those topics.  I need something colorful and splendid…perhaps from the other hemisphere where everything is beautiful late spring majesty.  Behold the stupendous color and masterful dance of the peacock…spider.  I feel this jaunty little spider is a perfect spirit animal for artists.

Male Peacock Spider (Maratus volans) via Jurgen Otto / Flickr Male Peacock Spider (Maratus volans) via Jurgen Otto / Flickr

The peacock spider (Maratus Volans) is a small jumping spider which lives in parts of Queensland, New South Wales, Australian Capital Territory, Western Australia and Tasmania. The spider lives like almost all spiders—by capturing and eating tiny invertebrates, while avoiding hungry predators long enough to mate.  However unlike most spiders, the male peacock spider is…

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[Why do so] many fundamentalists spend so much time in Leviticus and so little time in the New Testament, and I think that’s a remarkably cogent question. Indeed, it is so cogent that I would like to make the suggestion that there is an entire class of self-identified “Christians” who are not Christian at all, in the sense that they don’t follow the actual teachings of Christ in any meaningful way. Rather these people nod toward Christ in a cursory fashion on their way to spend time in the bloodier books of the Bible (which tend to be found in the Old Testament), using the text selectively as a support for their own hates and prejudices, using the Bible as a cudgel rather than a door. That being the case, I suggest we stop calling these people Christians and start calling them something that befits their faith, inclinations and enthusiasms.

I say we call them Leviticans, after Leviticus, the third book of the Old Testament, famous for its rules, and also the home of the passages most likely to be thrown out by Leviticans to justify their intolerance (including, in recent days, against gays and lesbians — Leviticus Chapter 18, Verse 22: “Thou shalt not not lie with mankind, as with womankind; it is abomination”).

To suggest that a Christian is actually a Levitican is not to say he or she is false in faith — rather, it is to suggest that their faith is elsewhere in the Bible, in the parts that are easy to understand: The rules, the regulations, all the things that are clear cut about what you can do and what you can’t do to be right with God. Rules are far easier to follow than Christ’s actual path, which needs humility and sacrifice and the ability to forgive, love and cherish even those who you oppose and who oppose and hate you. Any idiot can follow rules; indeed, there’s a good argument to made that idiots can only follow rules. This is why Leviticans love Leviticus (and other pentateuchal and Old Testament books): Chock full of rules. And you can believe in rules. That’s why they’re rules.

Source: Leviticans  ~ John Scalzi, Whatever

Cocoanut Grove – 1942

Today marks the 73rd anniversary of the Cocoanut Grove Fire.

It seems fitting to repost this … (very long post, but I hope you will read it to the end)

– – –

Originally posted December 2, 2012

So Ye Olde Kid Sister (YOKS) calls me up this morning to wish me Happy Birthday and informs me that they renamed the street in front of the Cocoanut Grove Nightclub from Shawmut Street Extension to Cocoanut Grove Lane.

In my mind I thought yeah that’s right, I am going to post a blog entry on … November 28 … oh ‘sh1+’. Well with the Mrs in hospital the week before Thanksgiving and the Thanksgiving holiday (where I did all the cooking), I suppose you can forgive me for not getting this out on time.

– – –


The Cocoanut Grove was Boston’s premier nightclub during the post-Prohibition 1930s and 1940s. On November 28, 1942, this club was the scene of the deadliest nightclub fire in history, killing 492 people (which was 32 more than the building’s authorized capacity) and injuring hundreds more. The enormity of the tragedy shocked the nation and briefly replaced the events of World War II in newspaper headlines. It led to a reform of safety standards and codes across the country, and major changes in the treatment and rehabilitation of burn victims.

It was the second-deadliest single-building fire in American history; only the 1903 Iroquois Theatre fire in Chicago had a higher death toll, of 602.

Official reports state that the fire started at about 10:15 p.m. in the dark, intimate Melody Lounge downstairs. A young pianist and singer, Goody Goodelle, was performing on a revolving stage, surrounded by artificial palm trees. It was believed that a young man, possibly a soldier, had removed a light bulb in order to give himself privacy while kissing his date. Stanley Tomaszewski—a 16-year-old busboy—was instructed to put the light back on by retightening the bulb. As he attempted to tighten the light bulb in its socket, the bulb fell from his hand. In the dimly-lit lounge, Tomaszewski, unable to see the socket, lit a match to illuminate the area, found the socket, extinguished the match, and replaced the bulb. Almost immediately, patrons saw something ignite in the canopy of artificial palm fronds draped above the tables (although the official report doubts the connection between the match and the subsequent fire).

Continue reading Cocoanut Grove – 1942

Bitter Pushover Black Friday Giftures

Love these Friday Giftures

Ben's Bitter Blog

You realize that Black Friday is a crazy day filled with lunatics pushing each other out of the way for products that they are using to push their old stuff out of the way right? You know what else Black Friday is? It is the December holidays pushing Thanksgiving out of the way.  As soon as the turducken is digested, the Decembers are already pushing the Bitter Thanksgiving out of the way.  So in honor of pushy holidays, the Black Friday Giftures are about pushing people, places, things and holidays around.

This has been pushed…

lskdjf…by something that was kind of a cheetah.

Somebodies need for a job…

sfdf…has pushed him to find the right circles to run around in.

Somebody is getting …

sdfdf…a Happy Birthday Party pushed on them.

This pushy dog…

Df…should know not to mess with a guys food.

This bird was trying to get to…

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Wrestling with Worry

Current events prompt me to reblog this …


[Author’s note: This post is a continuation of the Welcome to the Future series of essays. If you haven’t read Welcome to the Future, I suggest that you start >> HERE <<]
Wrestling with Worry

I would really like to be able to say, “I vividly remember the night I couldn’t take it any more,” but I can’t. What I do remember is that it was during high school, I was really worried about something, and I was walking over to my best friend’s house thrashing it out in my mind. I was going over and over all of the various scenarios for the outcome of whatever it was I was dreading, and trying to formulate an action plan for each and every contingency. I remember stopping dead in my tracks and thinking … “[expletive deleted] Every time I plan for an outcome it ALWAYS turns out different…

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Cheers To the Passionate

I will add Elon Musk to your list.


This is an all time favourite video of mine especially when I am feeling disappointed and let down, uninspired, watching this would perk me right up. Yes, I might be misunderstood and labeled sometimes but so are the following passionate people who gave their all to their creations. Today, let me share some of the greatest passionate people in the world and hope that their passion, determination and commitment will rub off you too.


Thank you, Robin Williams for all the laughter and joy you have brought into our homes and our hearts. Even when you are suffering from depression, you did not just quit but you push on to bring the last bit of giggle into us. For that, I thank you.


Thank you, Michael J Fox for giving us superb performance and using your status to create awareness for your illness, Parkinson Disease. I believe a lot of…

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Syrian Refugees, Security Debates, Fear Mongering and General Stupidity

Norm 2.0

Note: I know this post is a little out of character for me. I don’t rant or use foul language often and I generally try to avoid political topics. So no worries; I won’t be insulted if you decide to bounce right now and go read someone else. I promise to be back to posting pretty pictures tomorrow.

The ridiculous amount of verbal diarrhea I’ve heard and read in the last week or so about the Syrian refugee crisis, in the both the mainstream media and on social media has left me pissed. I’m livid and I need to let it out.

Have we really all forgotten here in Canada and the U.S. that we are an entire continent of immigrants?

Remember, unless you have native aboriginal blood coursing through your veins, you (or your ancestors) came from somewhere else.

Over the past few centuries North America has become home…

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Bloggers Unite for Peace

Uncle Spike's Adventures

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil
is for good men to do nothing.”
Edmund Burke

Here are some ways to add your support to this message of peace:

1) Publish the following statement on your own blog
2) Post a link to Twitter and/or Facebook
3) Reblog this post or any post that replicates this statement
4) Request to be 
added to the signatory list below by adding a comment or mailing 


~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~
~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

We are normal, everyday hard-working people with a common hobby, blogging. We hail from far and wide. We reside in different lands, on different continents. We speak different languages, eat different foods, and are of varying ages, professions…

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Let’s pretend you are Black: Ty’Qwonne Blacksten (Part one) of short series

Reblogging Part One … if you want to read the rest then “follow” the Eddie Star Blog

Eddie Star Blog

What the F**k is this about! Who is Ty’Qwonne Blacksten?

Yes, you are imagining you look like this and your name is Ty’Qwonne Blacksten… Any coincidences are completely incidental, For fictional purposes only.

Let’s pretend you were born Ty’qwonne Blacksten. You just so happened to be black in a middle-to-lower class income household. You are 17 years old, do not commit any crimes. You like playing video games, smoking weed and flirting with girls. You are not in a gang – though your neighborhood is gang-infested – and you attend the local public high school. You have no tattoos, no idea what you wanna be when you grow up, you just are enjoying your youth. You stay with your mom and grandmother. Your father is not home because he isn’t a good father. He is in jail because he was at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

The Backstory…

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