White Lives Matter rally in Huntington Beach Tomorrow

plasticbertrand

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Actually I did, I said that we should strive for equality of opportunity. #learntoread
Words are cheap.

You are always the first too screech if there's an even slightest perceived discrimination towards white men.

You're also the first to sh!t on BLM.

And to screech how important the property is while ignoring racial injustice.

Or defend Proud Bois and other garden variety bigots with passion.

You've made it pretty clear what's most important to you and racial equality is not it.
 
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Mr Doof

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This also reminds me that reading The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Kesey seemed to embody this. Ommmm. Kumbaya.... but I'll be the grand poobah dictating who can do acid. If I am feeling masochistic, I'll have to read that book again followed by Cosmic Banditos to decide who is the more pretentious asshole. :unsure:
The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby and Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test are a good pairing in that parts of each intersect

Or am I thinking of Hells Angels and Kool-Aid Test?

Been a long time since I read any of these three.
 

Kento

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The Kandy-Kolored Tangerine-Flake Streamline Baby and Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test are a good pairing in that parts of each intersect

Or am I thinking of Hells Angels and Kool-Aid Test?

Been a long time since I read any of these three.
Hells Angels is probably the one you are thinking of. I read it again after Kool-Aid and it was funny to have that alternate perspective as they both described the same event.
 
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grapedrink

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Words are cheap.

You are always the first too screech if there's an even slightest perceived discrimination towards white men.
Link?

You're also the first to sh!t on BLM.
Link?

And to screech how important the property is while ignoring racial injustice.
i can denounce both racial injustice and regressive behavior by mostly peaceful protestors, the 2 are not mutually exclusive.

Or defend Proud Bois and other garden variety bigots with passion.
i never defended their ideas, however I did defend their right to voice those ideas, and that those ideas do not automatically decriminalize acts of violence against them. You know, the whole "it shouldn't be a crime to punch a nazi, but saying nazi things should be" trope that you constantly parrot.
 

mundus

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The most obvious question did Ifail fly back to his home town for this?
 

enframed

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For the last sentence, a clear issue is that people will always try to make sure that some are more equal than others. Kind of defeats the goal of a collective society.

This also reminds me that reading The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Kesey seemed to embody this. Ommmm. Kumbaya.... but I'll be the grand poobah dictating who can do acid.
Beat and Hippie men were/are absolutely dominant types in general. Living in Santa Cruz for 15 years taught me that. Los Angeles is more liberal in every way than Santa Cruz, probably more so than San Francisco, too.
 
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ElOgro

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Beat and Hippie men were/are absolutely dominant types in general. Living in Santa Cruz for 15 years taught me that. Los Angeles is more liberal in every way than Santa Cruz, probably more so than San Francisco, too.
By the time you lived there it was mostly over, unless you were of age before say 1973. Kesey et al (Leary, baba rom das) were a different trip. The guy you’re looking for was Neil Cassidy. The true one and only true “prankster”. There are no regrets from when that whipdick AW passed through here. None.
 
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enframed

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The song "Neal and Jack and Me" by King Crimson is the song that got me into Beats, psychedelics, and going down that rabbit hole of then paper only literature about that time; and maybe a little micro-fiche. I had recently learned about King Crimson. This was 1988, I was 16.

One day I was at Tower Records in Fresno (I always took my tip money from Me -N-Ed's deliveries to Tower if I made more than $10 in tips) and saw some 'zine called The Golden Road. On the cover was something about Neal Cassidy and Jack Kerouac. I put two and two together (and got five), so I bought the zine. IIRC it was a 'zine dedicated to The Grateful Dead and their relations.


Kids these days have it so easy to know whatever they want. Back then serendipity was our internet.
 
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ElOgro

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The song "Neal and Jack and Me" by King Crimson is the song that got me into Beats, psychedelics, and going down that rabbit hole of then paper only literature about that time; and maybe a little micro-fiche. I had recently learned about King Crimson. This was 1988, I was 16.

One day I was at Tower Records in Fresno (I always took my tip money from Me -N-Ed's deliveries to Tower if I made more than $10 in tips) and saw some 'zine called The Golden Road. On the cover was something about Neal Cassidy and Jack Kerouac. I put two and two together (and got five), so I bought the zine. IIRC it was a 'zine dedicated to The Grateful Dead and their relations.


Kids these days have it so easy to know whatever they want. Back then serendipity was our internet.
So basically 20 years after me. I think Dr. Owsley was well done by then. King who?
 

enframed

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So basically 20 years after me. I think Dr. Owsley was well done by then. King who?
I don't know who is this King to whom you refer. Enlighten me.

Owsley was done, yeah. But he stopped making acid a long time ago.

"Although people speculated for years about how Owsley managed to conceal his stash, no one ever figured it out. He says his method was simple. He kept the LSD in an inexpensive footlocker that traveled constantly on Greyhound buses between Oakland, San Jose and San Francisco. “I could leave it for up to thirty days in the bus station and I would go to it wherever it was, take out whatever I needed, take it back in, and send it to myself in the next city. It was always in a safe place, and nobody had a clue, because I never told anyone I did that.”"

So great.
 
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ElOgro

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I don't know who is this King to whom you refer. Enlighten me.

Owsley was done, yeah. But he stopped making acid a long time ago.

"Although people speculated for years about how Owsley managed to conceal his stash, no one ever figured it out. He says his method was simple. He kept the LSD in an inexpensive footlocker that traveled constantly on Greyhound buses between Oakland, San Jose and San Francisco. “I could leave it for up to thirty days in the bus station and I would go to it wherever it was, take out whatever I needed, take it back in, and send it to myself in the next city. It was always in a safe place, and nobody had a clue, because I never told anyone I did that.”"

So great.
Crimson. Heard of them but never heard them. You brought them up.

There was no shortage of Dr. Stanley’s product in Laguna Canyon when I lived there in the early 70’s and especially before I lived there I the late 60’s. In 1973 with the right hookup you could still buy a jar (1,000 hits.) Or trade.

The last time I willing dosed was in 1975. The statute of limitations has long run out so here’s the story

Mammoth, 1975. A gram of lsd in the purple barrel form was 1,000 doses. In a bag with a thousand doses you’re gonna end up with some shake at the bottom of bag. Split that dumped into a bottle of OJ between three people. Ski Dave’s and the chutes all day. Done.

Unwilling, San Blas, Nay, 1979. There were some cholos that came down from Mexicali to buy a load of weed. They scored a couple of tons of some very good product from up in Cora Indian country. The sellers had taken some liquid lsd in trade for the load and dosed everybody at the going away party at the local bar. Heavily. Most of the pilgrims there didn’t know what was happening. I did and hualed my huraches home. And spent the night watching a hurricane move in.

Everyone’s mileage varies. Place and time.