Chapter III –Bottoms up Schooling [BUS] aka The youthful mind wars

I have no polished certifications, a university chew-tT

O-or who at age 20 failed to achieve lecturer status, not sticKING around long enough to be capped with a B.COM[1] degree from the University of Natal, South Africa.

Certainly, less said the better but more important is to get one’s light message across to as a broad a spectrum as possible which means one needs to first watch what one says, chew on the words and only be prepared to spit them out if willing to put them down on paper other-weiss

to throw the thoughts into the waste paper basket.

Second, one needs to turn up the frequency until we all stand as one and ride the Cc:rest of the wave negatives in tow. Two birds in the hand may at first blush appear right but it will eventually block out the sunlight as one keeps grabbing for more, grubbygrub.com the start of great things to come.

Unless one holds one in the left hand keeping the right in check never allowing either to feed off those in the center by teaching the kids right from wrong that begins with what we write DNA say encouraging the bright lights limiting though artificial light which naturally includes the square root of negative numbers including that of negative one, toes to boot unless we all begin to sing the same tune, “The problems of the word …”

Putting aside my military obligations to fight a war where the pheasants were having a field day feeding off the peasants, I flew the coop for the freeze of a late Chicago snow-flurry that cost a mayor her woolies as she ran out of gas, snow removal equipment and hot seats to boot.

Prior to immigrating to the United States on March 17^th 1978, one week before turning 21, I demonstrated not only that I could hold down a job for a period of almost 3 months butt I could do so while stirring the pot constantly on the look out for who is buttering the bread feeding the physicians who simply practice medicine at our expense.

Besides for good surf my birthplace, Durban, South Africa, was known as one of the best pot-growING spots on the planet. Durban Poison, better known on the streets of Amsterdam as DP, was a staple diet of the underprivileged needing a break from the monotony of the nonsense promulgated by the ruling elite, “Apartheid protects your native culture.”

The question of needs and wants lies at the heart of most peoples’ discontent especially when the tTOo get confused. I concluded fairly early in life the need to be conscious of one’s needs and wants, weighing words carefully, aware that there will never be enough gold to cover all one’s wants especially if all one wanted was to give everyone a fair shot at the brass ring, ring of truth</