Let's get a few things straight about my dedication to Babygate.

You know the internet is a big place, and there is no way I could possibly know what is happening on every corner of it.  In fact I often don't even know what is happening on the blogs in my very own blogrolls.

I just don't have the time to read all of the posts, and I especially don't have the time to read the comments. (Hell folks sometimes I only have time to skim the comments on my own blog.)

However occasionally I receive an e-mail, or a comment on IM, asking the most bizarre questions imaginable. And I have to wonder if it is a serious question, and that they are really that ignorant, or whether or not somebody is just fucking with me.

Usually it turns out that it was the result of a conversation that was started, or even an apparently definitive statement that was made, on another blog.

So let me address a few that have cropped up recently. (And no folks this will NOT become a regular feature.)

1) Have I stopped working on Babygate?

Seriously?  Somebody actually suggested that, and people BELIEVED them?

Why in the hell would I have put so much time and effort, and suffered such attacks on my character, if I was not determined to stick it out until the end?  Does THAT even sound like me?

You know that same meme has come up before.

It was being bandied about right before my "Tale of Two Babies" post, it was being talked about right before I introduced all of you to Fred, I remember hearing about it right around the time I posted the new pictures of Levi, and I even heard about it right before I wrote the "No Longer a Conspiracy Theory" LESS THAN ONE MONTH AGO.

Now ask yourself, do I REALLY seem like somebody who is no longer working on Babygate?

And then ask yourself this, "What would be the motivation of somebody making such a claim?"

2) Has Gryphen been paid off/threatened/convinced by Sarah/Mercede/Levi to NOT reveal things he knows about Babygate?

Number one I CANNOT be paid off. Period.

And nobody has ever even tried that approach with me, because I am pretty sure that even somebody as arrogant and ignorant as Sarah Palin herself realizes that I would be writing the next day's post in my head the entire time they were providing me with the material.

As for threats, well you know what they did, and you know how I responded. Does anybody really think my defiant attitude has changed in these last few years?

Did Mercede convince me not to tell some terrible secret about her family?

Well that would be the most reasonable of the unreasonable assumptions, because I would do just about anything for Sherry and Sadie. But NO that is not accurate either.

It IS true that there are things I know concerning what is going on with the Johnstons that I am not talking about, but it is not babygate related, nor is it a "terrible secret." And besides much of it will be revealed in the coming months, just like Sadie's Playboy shoot which I kept silent about until the news broke elsewhere.

3) Is Gryphen the mysterious "Anonymous" commenter from the "Nick Broomfield" post?

Wrong again. And I am a little unclear as to what my motivation would be for posting comments anonymously.

For the record I have NEVER posted anonymously on my blog, or any other blog.

I really only know of one blogger who did that regularly, or used a variety of screen names to hide their identity, but he was never a truly legitimate blogger, only a parasite. (I am sure that most of you will have little difficulty unraveling this particular mystery,)

4) Is Gryphen "Fred?"

Nope.  In fact I have never even met Fred.

However hopefully very soon all of you will have a much better idea of who Fred is, as well as his progress on the babygate book. There is even talk about a website, and I will gladly post the link when everything is up and running.

I am sure there are other questions and imaginative suppositions out there, but hopefully this will keep the conspiracy theories down to a low roar for at least a couple of weeks.

Let me add a few more bits of information.

It may not seem like it, but I actually DO have a real job.  In fact I am never NOT on the job.

Therefore I am not always able to sit down and write a long post, such as this one, and may only have time to post a link and jot down a few thoughts, before being called away to do what I am actually paid to do.

Writing about babygate requires new information, time to research that information, and time to write out the post that best utilizes the new data.  And often while that is going on there are other important stories that I feel should be addressed, so it may take me awhile to get a babygate post ready for your consumption. (I actually have just such a post on the back burner right now.)

And another thing, this blog is not JUST about Sarah Palin and babygate. In fact when I started the blog in November of 2004, I did not even know Sarah Palin existed. So even though the work to reveal her lies and obfuscations have often dominated my posts, I fully intend to continue on well after Sarah Palin is nothing more than a $100 question on Jeopardy.

Anyhow I hope that answers some of your questions, and puts some minds at ease.

As always thank you for visiting my humble Alaskan blog, but do yourself a favor once in a while and step away from your computer and enjoy the last of this great summer.  It will be winter soon enough and I don't want any of you blaming me for keeping you inside while the sun was waiting for you to come out and play.

Namaste my friends.

Critical Thinking: Questions 101

* * *

-=[ Questions ]=-

You see things that are and say 'Why?'
But I dream things that never were and say "Why not?
-- George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)

I have learned that questions are the very substance of who we are and what we do. I have learned that almost everything we do, every decision we make, is a response to an inner question. It’s unfortunate, I often think, that “Questions 101” is not a regular feature in our classrooms. But then again, does the status quo really want to create critical and questioning human beings?

One of my favorite sci-fi novels, Douglas Adams’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, deals with this very issue of questions. In it a massive supercomputer is designed to give the ultimate, the absolute answer, an answer that would explain “God, life, the universe, and everything.” But the computer takes seven and a half million years to come to an answer, and by that time, everybody has forgotten the question. LOL So, nobody remembers the ultimate question, but the ultimate answer is: 42.

This is amazing! Finally! The Answer! So wonderful is the answer that immediately a contest is held to see if anyone can come up with “The Question.” Many profound questions are submitted, but the final winner is: “How many roads must a man walk down?”

Reflecting about “God, life, the universe, and everything” is pretty much what my life has been about -- the unexamined life, in my book, is an unworthy one. Of course, the answer may be not as clever as “42.” Perhaps the answers deal with matter, life, mind, and spirit, and the underlying evolutionary currents that seems to unite them all in a pattern that connects. The “Web with no Weaver,” as the integral philosopher, Ken Wilber, puts it.

For some time now, I have tried to embody this spirit of questioning. I guess part of my personal mission is to prod others to question, to look for the unasked questions and to try to understand who decides what questions will be asked and why. I think that’s part of my motivation -- I want people to ask, to question, to investigate their lives. If I were to die today, I would like to believe that I made some difference in the lives of the people I touch. I would want people to say something along the lines of, “He was a crazy motherfucker, but he cared, and he touched my life (or some private parts ::wink::) in a special way.” Or something like that.

In this crazy world all we can be sure of is the punch line to this grand Cosmic Joke we call life -- death. In the midst of all this uncertainty, we grope for meaning or something that gives us a foundation of sorts. Sometimes this clinging is the core of our pain, sometimes having no meaning in one’s life is a key component to pain. So then, this is my meaning -- my mission: to rattle the cage a wee bit, to ask the unasked question and to ask you, dear reader and friend:

Why not?

My endeavor is to be part of a an ongoing process where the curious, the apathetic, the wounded and fragmented, the lonely and the happy can meet to create meaning together. Where we can all come together and tell our stories without censure and to ask the questions that need asking and then support each other somehow when the answers are too harsh or too painful to bear.

I remember a time when that was called community…

Love,

Eddie

Questions 101

¡Hola! Everybody,
It’s still cold here! LOL!

I’m experiencing a huge issue with my exec. director who now wants to hold more meetings while expecting more production. It has to stop. We either meet and talk caca, or we do the work. We can’t do both! One of the reasons I'm resposting today is that I have several meetings throughout the day! She's cutting me off at the knees.

SMDH

BTW, I’m going to disclose something though I know I will lose readership and any chance of sex with some of the loveliest women on my list ::grin:: But I can’t take it any more! I’ve been living a lie!

GAWD!! I can't take it anymore!!!

Okay. Ready? Here goes:

AMY WINEHOUSE SUCKS!

There! I said it! Whew!

I can understand Ms. Winehouse playing to her niche market of women who want to hear female angst as expressed through lyrics with throwaway lines such as, “What kind of fuckery is this… ” and titles like “Fuck Me Pumps,” but I find the whole Amy Winehouse phenomenon quite boring. Her interpretations of Jazz standards aren’t all that nuanced and her pipes aren't all that strong. In addition, that singing out the side of her neck thingee? Really bothers me. In fact the only song I can honestly say I enjoyed (however briefly) was that Rehab song. Her second album did very little for me, BTW.

I’ll have to say right out that the only way I would sit through an Amy Winehouse CD would be if there was some sex involved at the end of all that tedium. Yeah, Imma slut and would swear up and down that I love Ms. Winehouse and you were wearing a teddy and looking at me with that “come fuck me” look.

There! I feel sooo much better now!

BTW, I’m not “haten.” In fact, what I most like about Ms. Winehouse is her personal life because I can definitely identify with the obvious insanity.

* * *

"You see things that are and say 'Why?'
But I dream things that never were and say "Why not?" -- George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950)

Why? That’s an excellent question! It's a question I have been plagued with since as far back as I can remember. I've learned to ask other questions -- sometimes looking in the dark for newer questions, or questions not asked. I am a born skeptic, a doubter, a trouble maker by nature – “un mas que jodes, un travesio.” At various times in my life I have been deemed unfit to live among the free and a bit deranged, to boot.

But along the way I have learned that questions are the very substance of who we are and what we do. I have learned that almost everything we do, every decision we make, is a response to an inner question. It’s unfortunate, I often think, that “Questions 101” is not a regular feature in our classrooms. But then again, does the status quo really want to create critical and questioning human beings?

One of my favorite books, Douglas Adams’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, deals with this very issue of questions. In it a massive supercomputer is designed to give the ultimate, the absolute answer, an answer that would explain “God, life, the universe, and everything.” But the computer takes seven and a half million years to do this, and by the time the computer delivers the answer, everybody has forgotten the question! (Yes this highly recommended book can be extremely funny at times). So, nobody remembers the ultimate question, but the ultimate answer is: 42. (what did you expect?)

This is amazing! Finally! The Answer! So wonderful is the answer that immediately a contest is held to see if anyone can come up with “The Question.” Many profound questions are submitted, but the final winner is: How many roads must a man walk down?

Reflecting about “God, life, the universe, and everything” is pretty much what my life has been about -- the unexamined life, in my book, is an unworthy one. Of course, the answer may be not as clever as “42.” Perhaps the answers deal with matter, life, mind, and spirit, and the underlying evolutionary currents that seems to unite them all in a pattern that connects. The “Web with no Weaver,” as one of my favorite philosophers, Ken Wilber likes to put it.

For some time now, I have tried to embody this spirit of questioning. I guess part of my personal mission is to prod others to question, to look for the unasked questions and to try to understand who decides what questions will be asked and why. I think that’s part of my motivation for posting my rants -- I want people to ask, to question, to investigate their lives. If I were to to die today, I would like to believe that I made some difference in the lives of the people I touch. I would want people to say something along the lines of, “he was a crazy motherfucker, but he cared, and he touched my life (or some private parts ::wink::) in a special way.” Or something like that.

In this crazy world all we can be sure of is the punch line to this grand Cosmic Joke we call life -- death. In the midst of all this uncertainty, we grope for meaning or something that gives us a foundation of sorts. Sometimes this clinging is the core of our pain, sometimes having no meaning in one’s life is a key component to pain. So then, this is my meaning -- my mission: to rattle the cage a wee bit, to ask the unasked question and to ask you, dear reader and friend:

Why not?

I hope that I can be part of a process where the curious, the apathetic, the wounded and fragmented, the lonely and the happy can meet to create meaning together. Where we can all come together and tell our stories without censure and to ask the questions that need asking and then support each other somehow when the answers are too harsh or painful to bear.

I remember a time when that was called community...

Love,

Eddie