Category Archives: english

TRAILER: America’s Guilty Plea Problem

Founded in 1992, the Innocence Project is a national litigation and public policy organization dedicated to exonerating wrongfully convicted people through DNA testing and reforming the criminal justice system to prevent future injustice.

Across the United States, Americans caught in the criminal justice system are regularly presented with a stark choice: pleading guilty to a crime and accepting a lesser sentence or chancing their freedom at trial at the risk of lengthy prison time.

For those many innocent men and women unjustly sucked into the US criminal justice system, this reality presents itself as an unbearable dilemma which inevitably leads to wrongful conviction and shattered lives.

https://youtu.be/yg8WXrXUGrs

It’s time for us to acknowledge that America has a #GuiltyPleaProblem and stop wrongful conviction.

https://www.innocenceproject.org/understanding-crime-victim-perspectives-on-wrongful-convictions/

Here hear. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dt1w9HoVw0o&feature=share

Your semi-daily bog

Consider the characteristics or conditions of all the substance in your intrinsic perception, such as the entities which one can identify as a solid state or a liquid state, (or even a gaseous state), and you believe you know by the very nature of the “subject,” to be just what it is, because that truth is fundamental. Now, suppose these primary dimensions of your reality are permuted, a metamorphosis which transforms every element, transcending everything so that it is the not only opposite of what it may have once been perceived as but the same in it’s lack of form and no law of the universe has any law or harmony, (the gaseous factors would really be astounding) and everything is nothing, and all that is or is not, is a contradiction of the same problem.

The concrete is now the abstract.

The trivium is equal to the empty paradox.

The continuum is now part of absolute zero.

The phone buzzed and I saw two new messages. One was a tangible items requiring some thought and input from certain people involved.

The second message was clearly meant to test me although a immediate result was void of reason and consequence and was disguised emptiness. Support of an broken statement that was neither  subjective or objective. 

Alright, you lost me – I am off the trail of interest; you may kindly fuck off. I can shake off the pixelated perception you painted me. A blank canvass of nothing.

This cognitive action led to my next transitory side-effect which was after quickly reviewing the causal theory of epiphenomenalism (physical events have mental effects, but mental events have no effects of any kind) how very useless it was to philosophize at this time, how tired my mind was, then snip-snapping right on back to my strenuously draining brooding of the undetermined unknown and how that unknown was always about to increase in conscious life.

There are the places at which you are not, or perhaps where you would rather be, not be, won’t be, the list within the list within the list is infinite, but my point is that the location of where you are (or where you ain’t) is probably the most important place you could ever be. Where you’re not is: any, some, or everywhere you could be, certainly, of course when you have but a critical amount of “time” remaining to reconsider every place where you ever were which led me to this last circumstance in which I was currently entangled, where I was not was anywhere but where I was, at a condition labeled as the end of one’s lifetime; this is the place where you last were, and your mind works itself backwards, instinctively and recklessly, and flashes these excruciating images, words, colors, lines and limits, gaps and speculation, theories, people, pets, regrets, media, motions, accidents, mistakes, recoveries, tastes, dreams, nightmares, mischief, games, fame, humiliation, embarrassment, acceptance, awards, rewards, faith, apathy, remorse, anxiety, true faith, true love, true sex, true blueness of the purest skies, waters, and eyes; good fortune, good graces, all those artistic creations….

The worst part was always there: The realization of having to contemplate how anything could be even worse than the worst realization you can contemplate. To me it was feeling that I was departing without saying goodbye; abruptly leaving the party early, sneaking out irresponsibly and silently, the one who didn’t even say, “later on,” and never came back.
During these mangled, mingled conjunctions of deliberation, I disappeared.

Writing Exercise #117. Mas o Menos?

I had made an important decision that drizzly December lunch hour, a choice that might have been a major turning point, or one that made me realize I couldn’t trust myself, control molecular mutations that were implanted in my DNA, but were fertilized by the irony of life and made me older, smarter, and a riddle unto my own psyche.
I left the office promptly at 11:45 am and it took the usual 3 minutes to get from my desk to the elevator to the front door and down the dozen stairs to the front green and I swiftly broke right up Maroon Hill two blocks west, slushing hurriedly up to the garden gates, and then made haste past the goat petting zoo.

Temporary images whirled past me as I lost more seconds of my hour and tore down to the Landing, the hillside slanted toward sea level and my spine started to burn as my speed increased, the spring humidity filling my lungs with heavy water and my terror elevated to a state of shocking horror for that which broke so many on the same journey to the ends of the earth, the beginnings of the ends of the furiously confused souls who came before me, live amongst me, and will be as unclean with sense of extreme compound awe, as we run past the calm, self-controlled, the composed egos whose filthy poised smirks made our thoughts race faster than our throbbing hearts as we stole away from the sun and found ourselves caught between the past and the future, between the land and the sky, the true and the false, not by choice, but by the means in which we ran though life with desperation and glory. We were born running, we choked on our conscious intensity, and eventually we realize would all die running.

I just wasn’t sure where I was going, but I had to keep on, or let the world stop and close me in its carriage, the cradles of the casual, the place you stop to take a breath is the last exit on the last highway.

Gravity pulled me down the street and I lunged forward as hard as I could, fearing and seemingly unfearful of the fact that my little heart felt determined to blow up in its madness to pump blood into my pulsating limbs, but also my clear head, falling into the ground, falling before I could get anywhere, falling before I reached the new race, the next step to the next step, the next path that always awoke and stirred my soul.

I stumbled on the gravel and drove forth to the liquid at the end of the Landing, the people and children and dogs and boats were the same day after day with faces of security and familiar sanctuary.

I dove into the shallow water and cried the familiar war cry of the storyteller who finally realized to give up on ever ending a tale. Nothing ever ends anyway.


Posted by Wendy Clark at 7:55 PM

Wendy Clark band at Herman’s Hideaway in Denver 7/8/17

https://www.pscp.tv/w/bDGw0TM5NzU2MXwxZ3F4dmJqWXFqV3hCmNUD1VAEqPwavuZQ7PprFeWQz3–Xg48Kics5Zpcuyo=​​

Kierkegaard Post I.

Told to stop reading this once or twice — reluctantly, perhaps when my future self had peace of mind, universal calm — so I’ve been waiting for seven years and no one tells me what to do anymore. #sorenkierkegaard #visionary #paradox #inconsequential #decartes #aesthetics #words 

Notes about coping skills

After blinking involuntarily for the creeping recognition of the totally obvious, the most simplistic answers begin to noticeably affect our effect. This was the same lack of coping skills I was taught to overthink.

Fall: (noun) to pass from one condition to another.

“Tempting,” I said.

 Sadly, the most unimportant events usually crept into my prominent speculations when ever my current situations(s) demanded my excruciating attention. Important events called for one’s absolute focus, and fortunately, I enjoyed a scale of mental substance consisting of various intense predicaments as well as an grounded awareness of my presence and depth of my semi-chaotic habitat.

Things were starting to be looking up, that is, when they weren’t looking down.

Places

There are the places at which you are not, or perhaps where you would rather be, not be, won’t be, the list within the list within the list is infinite, but my point is that the location of where you are (or where you ain’t) is probably the most important place you could ever be. Where you’re notis: any, some, or everywhere you could be, certainly, of course when you have but a critical amount of “time” remaining to reconsider every place where you ever were which led me to this last circumstance in which I was currently entangled, where I was not was anywhere but where I was, at a condition labeled as the end of one’s lifetime; this is the place where you last were, and your mind works itself backwards, instinctively and recklessly, and flashes these excruciating images, words, colors, lines and limits, gaps and speculation, theories, people, pets, regrets, media, motions, accidents, mistakes, recoveries, tastes, dreams, nightmares, mischief, games, fame, humiliation, embarrassment, acceptance, awards, rewards, faith, apathy, remorse, anxiety, true faith, true love, true sex, true blueness of the purest skies, waters, and eyes; good fortune, good graces, all those artistic creations….

Your Semi Daily Blhag

When I have something bothering me, causing me pain, distraction, discomfort, or anger, I tend to Another Day at the Officetake it out on those close to me.

I learned that after being inclined to ride that ridge and I was stopped.

The problem is; that’s your damn problem. You can talk about it and maybe someone will listen or care or help, but they can’t fix your problem and that is now bothering you enough to behave negatively, speak harshly, disengage, and then make the point that you are miserable.

Well, hell; I am sorry you are miserable. But don’t tell me I am worthless or weak or easily stepped on.

Like, say it’s all about you: you don’t have to say so; let’s pretend you don’t have the mind or time to think about choosing your words because you are miserable and a loser.  You recite the reasons repeatedly to any person or people who will listen. That is, up to a point where you to demonstrate to the person exactly how manifestation of misery and self-fulfilling prophesy are created on a level that is fascinating, and how to know you are not that person and will continue to  in no way resemble that behavior and thinking.

When something is the opposite of bothering me, etc., I tend to take it out on those I am close to. Share your good side.

Friends are important.

Friends are people who can take you on a ride in their life and it’s up to you who gets to be those people. And same both ways.

BLUE

Published on Jun 5, 2017

Live from the Capitol Hill People’s Fair in beautiful Civic Center Park in downtown Denver, Colorado
This is Wendy Clark Band’ 21st appearance in a row at this fine festival!
Featuring:
Wendy Clark – Guitar & Vocals
Chris Coward – Bass
Josh Bell – Guitar
Janet Lipson – Harmony & more
Bill Crick – Keys
David Derby – Drums
Mark Hendrickson – Drums & Percussion
http://www.wendyclark.net
https://peoplesfair.com/
Video by Michael Kuhl
06-05-17

blue lyrics

i keep on falling for you, as you creep beside the moonlight
if i could not speak, would you tell me what to say?
you shine the bluest eyes and the dusk retreats to twilight
i don’t mind my misconstructions smiling as you let them ricochet
i’m in love with this afternoon
how good it is – right here with you
then time stands still in this empty room
but how good it feels – to be with you
i readjust my gaze as you realign my eyesight
i woke up running too soon under the milky way
i’m joyous every evening as you pull back the daylight
i scramble to the calendar and plead again for saturday
i don’t take for granted that you have mistaken me for stranded
as you take my cigarette and hallucinate my greed
i beg you to not imply why this is where we’ve landed
as we’ve long stopped complicating who should take or who should receive
i’m in love with this afternoon
how good it is – right here with you
then time stands still in this empty room
but how good it feels – to be with you

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