UNCLE ERIC

UNCLE ERIC"This story may, or not be, true depending on who you talk to." My brother Phillip. My father was the last of six kids, all boys. He grew up on the North Shore in a town called Beverely Mass. His father was Welsh English and his mother was Canadien. They made a lovely couple.
When my grandfather was not working seven days a week he would be drinking and/or argueing with my grandmother on his drinking or working all the time. My grandmother took the traditional roles back in the 1930's. She spent all day washing other people's laundry, cooking for six kids and grandpa and tending the still they had behind the coal stove in the kitchen.
They made everything in that still. Corn liquor, Moonshine,White Lightning; they were all derivatives of the same mash they put into the kettle.All the kids chipped in come chore time. Peeling potatoes or shucking corn or cutting up apples; all by the buschel. After homework, the final chore was clean the table from dinner and prep the still. Uncle Eric was the oldest of the six kids. There was never any one else in our family like Uncle Eric. My father would tell us the stories of him about how he would pull of scams since he was a kid. It was all petty stuff really but Eric could always turn an illegal buck somehow and never get caught.
That didn't always hold true for future generations of our family. Case in point: There was my cousin Bobby who used to sell dime bags of weed to his friends. He was doing ok, staying under the radar until one day some joker talked him into driving to Florida to take a couple hundred pounds back up I-95. Bobby jumped on this idea and tooled off to Florida. The whole thing went off without a hitch but cousin Bobby forgot two basic rules of drug running. The first rule is that anyone with a Mass plate crossing the Mason Dixon line is bound to draw the attention of the Georgia State Police. The second rule is that if you have any outstanding speeding tickets..You would be best to pay them off. Cousin Bobby got 10 years.
Then there was my nephew Jeff who served in the Army during the Gulf War while stationed in Korea. He used to go to the PX and buy TV's and stereos at dirt cheap prices then sell them on th street at a mark-up. He met up with this Korean girl who fell in love with him. My nephew told her all the right things she wanted to hear and started shacking up with her. Six months before his discharge he told her that he was not going to take her back with him to America as he promised. They had a huge fight and he stormed out of the apartment leaving all the PX stuff still in boxes. He went out, got drunk, staggered back to the base and passed out. When he woke up there were two MP's standing over him, one was twirling a set of handcuffs. My nephew got two years and a dis-honorable discharge. But I saved the best for last. I have another nephew; Tim (my sister's kid). He was in love with some girl who took him for a ride. She went through him and his money like a hot knife through butter. Never satisfied she talked him into robbing the very bank he worked for. This dolt walked into a branch of said bank with no disquise, still wearing his nametag and waving a handgun as he demanded money. He, actually, managed to escape with just over five thousand dollars. For the next three days they holed up in some side-of-the-road, seedy motor in where they proceeded to snort. smoke and drink their way through the five thousand dollars. When the Feds finally kicked in the door there was my nephew, back up against the wall buck ass naked. His face covered in coke like the scene from Scarface. The love of his life's face buried in his crotch. The District Attorney purposely made every arresting officer take the stand to recount the scene much to the delight of the jury and the audience in the back. Tim got five years in a Supermax prison. You see? That is what was different about Uncle Eric. He never comitted a quote, unquote "crime". He was always a ghost. He would "pull jobs". No one could ever pin anything on him. He was always several steps ahead or several layers removed from. .Uncle Eriic was the oldest of these six kids. My father was the youngest and was full of stories about his brothers and my politically incorrect grandparents. For instance, each week Eric would take his allowance and paper route money to Tommy's soda shop and pharmacy. on Dean Street and pop pennies into this arcade machine. The game was simple. Pop a penny into the top, the penny bounces down sideways over a series of pegs and falls into one of a dozen slots at the bottom. At that bottom were all the pennies people had put in before. Hit the right slot at the right time and a handfull of pennies would fall out. Eric was a natural at this game. He knew exactly wich side to drop the penny, wich slot would pay off and when. He got so good at this game that all his buddies would gather round him and place bets on the outcome. In a couple of months Eric was no longer using his own money. He would take the bets, collect the pennies and drop them in. If you lost the bet you owed Eric money, if you won the bet he skimmed a hefty 25% of the winnings. Either way, for a fourteen year old kid in the 1930's he was clearing almost ten bucks a week all in pennies. My grandparents always knew when he was coming in for dinner because they could hear his pockets jingling as he came up the back stairs. My grandmother always told him to never go swimming with his trousers on or he would drown. My grandfather always stopped in the shop during his lunch break. With a wink and a nod (plus a deposit) he could slip into the back of the kitchen for a pint of home brewed beer. Everyone in town knew about this, even the local cops could be seen in a corner with a couple of pints from time to time. If you left them alone, they left you alone. After his beer my grandfather would take a seat at the counter and check out the racing form and eat his lunch. Eric would be in the corner hustling his friends. Slowly, people would appear from the back kitchen and take up seats. The cops took a corner stall to keep an eye on the place. There was this one Irish cop (there is always one) everyone knew as Dusty.I have no idea how he got that name. Dusty Sledge was his name. Anyway, Dusty began noticing Uncle Eric and his buddies a little too much this day. My grandfather noticed it also. It wasn't like Eric was being loud or a nuisance. If fact the arcade was located at the end of a back hall separate from the patrons. Tommy could have cared less. Eric brought in soda business and besides, Tommy would buy grandad's bootleg liquor. It was neighborhood shop and everyone knew each other or was married into a family or two some how. Not Dusty Sledge. He was from out of town and was the stereotypical crooked Irish cop of that time. No one liked him. All the cops were known to take a bribe now and again. A pay off here, a forgotten ticket there. Dusty made a living off of other people's misery. In the Depression era 1930's there was plenty of that to go around..
Dusty got up from his seat and sauntered over to my grandfather. Grandad put the racing form away into the newspaper.
"Eh Cunliffe." That thick Irish lilt. "Seems yer boy's got a goin' concern ova theya."
Grandad looked over and sipped his coffee. "Just kids havin' fun."
"Thats not what I'm-a talkin'-bout you Limey bastard."
Grandad put his coffe down. "What'dya want Sledge?"
"I'm talkin' bout your little bootleg operation. You and your spawn griftin' the neighborhood. Think I doen know what your dealin' in?"
Grandad sat silent. He taught all his kids to sit silent when questioned under duress. I teach my kids the same rule. Say nothing. Offer nothing. Let them do all the leg work. Sledge leaned into him. He looked over at the newspaper and slid out the racing form.
"Little numbas game ya got goin' heya? Ya kno' bettins' illegal in this state. Could take you and yar' kid in right now. Would be a shame. Cops searchin' your home, all your bootleggin' customers brought in. No need to bring them poor families down with ya."
My grandfather sat silent and said nothing. Sledge leaned into him some more and put the racing form back into the newspaper.
" Tell ya what I'm gonna do heya Cunliffe. Your gonna pick up my tab heya from now on and cut me in on 40% of your bootleggin' and I'm gonna take my 50% of the boy's winnins' today just to teach-im a lesson."
The waitress brought out Sledges's meal and put it on the table. Sledge watched her.
"Doen want it to go cold now do I?" Sledge patted my grandfather's back and sauntered off back to his seat. Sledge was as good as his rotten word. After his meal he got up, dropped his napkin on the floor and walked over to my Uncle Eric. He told the waitress to give the cheque to my grandfather. He walked up to Uncle Eric and pulled him against the wall.
"Hey!"
" Shut up ya little bastard!" Sledge reached into Eric's pocket and pulled out a large handfull of pennies, then reached in again and pulled out more. Sledge put the bounty into his pockets. "Lucky I doen put ya' into reform school."
Sledge went back to his table and grabbed the last of his sandwich.."Be seein' ya Cunliffe." Sledge walked out of Tommy's soda shop and pharmacy..
Tommy came over to my grandfather.
"I got his meals Bob."
"Then all your pints are for free." Said my grandfather. Tommy nodded and grimaced.
Tommy spoke up. "It's not going to stop there you know." Grandad just sipped his coffee.
Tommy kept going. "Ya hear what that Mick did to the Doherty girl last week?" My grandfather came back to focus.
"Alice? Michael's girfriend?"
Tommy nodded. My grandfather put down his coffee "What the hell happened?"

Uncle Eric and his buddies walked up to the counter.
"Dad?"
Tommy leaned over the counter. " Hey, you guys get outta here and go straight home. Cut behind Grayson's Funeral Home, out my back door. Be quiet, they may have a service on now."
Eric looked at my grandfather. " Do as Tommy says." He ordered..."Mind your mother!"
The kids bolted out the from the kitchen door. Tommy pulled a bottle fom under the counter and spiked the coffee. This is something children should never hear, let alone experience.
Tommy continued.
"You know those two have been sweet since grade school?"
Grandad nodded
" And you know Mike is in basic now? They're gonna get married after he gets back from camp."
Again my grandfather nodded, this was all common knowledge. All the families in the neighborhood had invitations. In fact, my grandmother was chosen to bake the wedding cake.
Tommy swallowed his spiked coffee. "Yeah, well, they drove over to the point at Salem Willows a week before he shipped out and they..Well..Ya know.." My grandfather was not shocked. He shrugged.."And?"
Tommy continued. " So, Sledge pulls up behind them. Catches them doin...." Now my grandfather was concerned; he put down his spiked coffee.
" What the fuck did he do?" Asked my grandfather.
"Sledge pulls them both outta the car. Mike is pullin' up his pants and poor Alice is in her all-together. Sledge is ready to haul them both in! Goes on about Alice underage and Mike's career in the Navy bein' shot to hell! These two love each other..Hell Bob, we both watched those kids get Christened!"
My grandfather was beside himself. "What the fuck did Sledge do?"
"Sledge put his hands on her! Told Mike he would ruin his Navy career cause Alice was still underage! That damn Mick pulled out his gun and took that poor girl into his car!!"
My grandfather shoved his cup and saucer. Tommy was almost in tears.
My grandfather spoke. " He didnt....?"
Tommy shook his head. " No he didn't, just put his hands on her. Least thats what I hear. Hell, Bob, these are our kids. Here in the neighborhood. Who the Christ is this Sledge to think he can do as he pleases?...Those poor kids."
Tommy pulled the bottle onto the counter and they both drank straight from it. I would have also, having heard that story.
You see, even though pre-marital relations were shunned in those days. It only pertained to casual relations. Young love was something different. In fact, your grand-parents most likely knew each other since they were kids, maybe even, your own parents. Things are different today. We want to keep our kids from those relationships (and for good reason). In the 'old days', as I shall call them; this was a sacred line you never crossed. Dusty Sledge crossed that line.
What niether Tommy, nor my grandfather knew during that conversation was that my Uncle Eric did not obey his father that day. After his friends took off across Grayson's back yard he snuck back in and propped open the kitchen door and heard the entire conversation. Mike's little brother was Eric's friend and Alice had babysat for the family and would let them stay up late listenning to the radio. There were more lines crossed than even Tommy and grandad knew that afternoon at the soda shop..

April 15th Worcester Tea Party Rally

April 15th Worcester Tea Party Rally

I waited patiently for this day to arrive. My taxes were already filed so April 15th was just for observation on my part. The Worcester Tea Party was gathering on Lincoln Square that day and I needed, no, wanted to be there.
For a small central Mass city there must have been over one thousand people there gathering on that memorial site. It was an appropriate site where past Patriots are memorialized and new Patriots gather, to keep alive, the staunch independence of the American citizen. I saw for myself the reality of the Tea Party Movement. It is a reality that is lost to the detractors, anti-protestors and the State Run Media.
In the crowd was a cross section of Americans. On the stage was mix of speakers from a Russian immigrant, who’s English was flawless, to a black Republican woman who did not apologize for being a Conservative. Across the street gathered the candidates who worked the crowd for signatures to get on the ballot for 2010. They stayed out of the way of the speakers and the main body of Tea Party supporters. I thought this was great. Unlike the Tea Party Express, which is quick to grab the coattails of Republican Candidates, the true Tea Party wishes to have no direct link to any one party and/or candidate. This policy preserves the independence and the mandate of “grass roots” that is the foundation of this movement.
I also think that this separation of both forms of Tea Parties confuses the left. I truly believe they think both parties are one and the same. Good, the better confused they are, the more they will get everything wrong each time one of them opens their mouths to talk about it. Far be it from me to shatter some one else’s disillusionment.
The left was present there and remained across the street. I saw one sign, simply drawn, that read; “I (heart) Socialism”. As I said, simply drawn with a mix of average and symbology exemplifying the precept that is Socialism. Another sign pontificated the need for taxes to pay for schools, roads, etc. We know this. As has been stated by many people I have spoken to over this past year we do not have a revenue problem, we have a spending problem. There was even the argument about the loss of healthcare from a lost job. The concept of Massachusetts Universal Healthcare never came forth in this individual’s argument.
I am not going to worry anymore about what is said on the State Run Media about the Tea Party Movement. The more people who attend each event and spread the word, the more the media will alienate their audience. The only worry is the power of the Socialists in Congress today. They may deem this movement too powerful and enact laws preventing it from gathering. Constitutional right of assembly be damned, they have already relegated the document to the status of “an artifact” in a museum.
All we can do is hold on and keep up the pressure. Never allow complacency a foothold. Stay focused on November then ramp up the pressure for the long haul to November 2012. I do not believe the party that gave birth to public protest in the 60’s is going to do everything in it’s power to discredit, denigrate and, possibly, outlaw the Tea Party Movement. The Secular Progressive Socialists will.

Independent thinking and American exceptionalism are the antithesis of what Socialism promotes. Besides; there are as many Democrats within this movement as Republicans who are not going to budge simply because of party affiliation. They are as fed up, disillusioned by Obama and the left, as you or I and are valued allies against the onslaught of misrepresentation by a government and media that has become dangerous and oligarchic in it’s zeal to establish Social Justice, Wealth Redistribution and Political Class Warfare.



….And That Is The Diatribe….

Jesus Freaks

Jesus Freaks


I always run into these people. I have met them several times throughout my life. Now, the Fundamentalists would say that Jesus is trying to speak to me. He always speaks to me, don’t worry. I, simply, cannot get on board with a fanatical group of people who have chosen an addiction to Jesus.
A recent posting on FB was on the subject of what one person should read and if that would be in conflict with their religious convictions. Most responses said; yes it would be, others said something to the effect; no, as long as you do not live by those words. I have read countless material and books, I live by my own words0 regardless of what I read.
We live in an America where God is routinely scrutinized and removed from all facets of our daily lives and the history of this nation. This is wrong and we see the results of such Secular promotions in society. Children are lost with no spiritual foundation, schools dismiss students of religious convictions (unless they are muslim) and tell them to be quiet so as to not offend others (Liberals mostly).
Recently in the news there has been a dust up concerning the Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas over military funerals and protests about gays in general. From what I can ascertain a father buried his son who served in the military and these idiots protested the funeral because the son was gay. In, fact, I am not even sure if that is correct..Doesn’t matter..It’s these idiots I am talking about here.
These meat heads are just as dangerous as the fundamentalist muslims who want to blow up everything Western to promote islam. It has nothing to do with God or religion but rather a mental condition in the heads of the leaders who are able to convince and convert stupid people into believing the cause these leaders foment. It is that simple.
I just finished reading a book entitled, Crusaders, Criminals and Crazies by Doctor Frederick J. Hacker. The book was first published in 1976 and is a collected medical/criminal/historical record of terrorism, fanaticism, serial criminals and religious zealotry that devolves into bombings, cultism and political strong arming that has rocked the 20th Century and, well, continues to this day.
It was a hard read to get through. It was full of medical terms, historical back rounds, geo-political shifts and the resulting anger and frustrations of various people who became the star players in these activities we have come to know so well. Many of them were religious based, or so they used religion as means to and end.
Every one of the groups or individuals mentioned were religious zealots and a little tapped in the upper quadrant of the cranium. They were able to employ various techniques of public persona, popularity, propaganda and an iron hold on followers who were not the brightest bulbs in the box.
You only need to look at any news footage from a muslim country and see the mindset that pervades that society. It is formidable, unstoppable and totally ingrained into the DNA of every man, woman and child. To them, all there is and all there will ever be are the dictates of the Queran and the local mullah. To many Western Bible thumping Christians, all there ever is and all there ever will be is what is in the Bible or what the Pastor tells them to do. The Bible (as the Queran) is the ultimate truth and the words are to be taken verbatim and never wavered from lest ye be smote.
I think of the various groups I have witnessed. David Koresh, Jonestown in South America, Scientology, Heaven’s Gate, the recent arrests involving Christian Militia who wanted to bomb Police Funerals, even that idiot Moon guy in Japan who bombed the subway with Sarin Gas (total fruitcake).
There was a documentary on HBO about a version of American Idol in Afghanistan. A woman was voted out and so she sang her last song. She made one horrible mistake, she danced as she sang. There are death threats on her life and interviews conducted on the street from the film crew proved this.
Death threats? All she did was dance? Are you fucking serious?
It is because of these religious precepts that a nation, like Afghanistan will never (mark my words) never be a viable, productive, member of the world community. I am not talking about “adopting Western ways”, or becoming a secular society..How about we just get with the program folks!! This obsession and addiction to living under the thumb of religious dogma is the antithesis of evolution and those people and nations who choose this path will (and should) fade off the path to human growth. They are modern day Neanderthals. That goes for Western uber Christians who believe that everything is Jesus and all there is is Jesus. It isn’t!
Fundamentalist Christians reject the Genome Project, reject the theory of other planets and possible life elsewhere, reject that God set into motion laws of physics that created the universe and our own Mother Earth. Early Christians and Missionaries raped the spirituality out of Native Americans who believed that The Great Spirit was everywhere, had always been and always would be and was in everything including rocks, trees, water, sky and air. That God was owner of the land not man. Christian schools still deny ancient customs and prayers.
The Taliban are notorious for stoning anyone with a cd player or records and charge them with idolatry, yet they love those modern weapons to kill infidels (go figure). School are routinely burned and bombed and women are raped and stoned because they dared to educate themselves or their daughters. They set dynamite (a modern western invention) and blew up one thousand year old statues carved by ancient Afghani’s because they deemed it an offence to Allah! These people are fucked in the head!
The nation of India still holds onto old religious ideas of the “caste” system and segregates it’s people into classes that deny them equal opportunity to a better job and a better life. We Americans whine about ‘gay rights’ while half the world still executes homosexuals. Where are your Liberal ideas now?
America has an invasive Social Services Agency that tags all parents who spank as ‘abusive’. Countries in Africa still practice clitoral-ectomies because of a religious order, force marriages, force feed girls to make them attractive to men in Mauritania. Where are the Liberal Child Rights advocates now?


Stop talking to me about religion and God and how all is easy and welcomed under the guise of ‘Jesus”. Religion is a bain on the human condition and has kept us locked into this gerbil wheel of never growing outside the box. Spirituality is the only release. Being a spiritual person is a transcendence above religion. One goes beyond dogma and truly sees the revelations of God. Study, education, reading, experiencing, moral compass are the tools to take us to a higher plain. You couple that with a foundation based on Providence, that God is your Master and loves you and will guide you and wants you to explore and be the best person you can be; there, there you will find enlightenment alongside the science and magic of life and universe that God has created for all of us to be a part of..


….And That Is The Diatribe….

The Congressional Candidate Interviews

The Congressional Candidate Interviews


Over the past two months (and, continuing through out this year) I have had the honour of meeting and speaking with some of the people who would shape the future of this nation.. Through hard work and downright being a pain in the ass I have arranged as guest on my radio show Congressional Candidates running in this year’s election season. These interviews have spread to include the two co-founders of the Worcester Tea Party, a few individuals who have started Second Amendment Advocacy Groups and some one, I consider, an expert on this health care debacle: hell, I may get to score a Gubernatorial interview before the end of April.
‘Big deal’, you are thinking. ‘These blowhards always get to talk to anyone who will give them a soap box’.
True, absolutely true; so what is making these interviews so different? The difference is in the nature of the interview and the medium that affords that condition. This example now dominates and has supplanted the once reigning king of media known as television. I am talking about two media. Believe it or not, the youngest one of those media will turn over thirty by the end of this year. The other is my show on radio.
This is not a cheap, exultation of The Meat and Potatoes Show (ok, yeah it is in a way. Stay with me, you’ll see the connection) nor is this the usual historical gnaw of how revolutionary the Internet has become. We get it, it’s great. It gives us something else we have to pay for and maintain. Move on. What changes this card game is that this media is able to have a conversation with someone and lay down substance to the person interviewed. The guest is no longer bridled by a thirty second soundbite which, for almost sixty years, has been the defining moment of all candidates from City Counsel to the President. One goof and you are toast.
I have two friends, that I could only have met here on the web, who have interviewed several candidates already and the impact is astounding. I actually get to read, watch, and partake in a conversation that allows me to actually get to know the person. I cannot remember seeing any of that on television. Oh, sure, there would be those times on a Sunday talk show where some one was the ‘special guest’. Made me feel as if I should be humbled to be watching that segment of Lame Stream Media. These two friends have created these sites and arranged these interviews all on their own with little or no connection to any major network and no apparent connection to any party ideological bullshit. The impact of these interviews has been phenomenonal and will affect the outcome in November.
Steven Tucker, creator and owner of The Small Business Insurance Services (sbisvcs.com) and John Feeny, author, teacher and writer for the blog America’s Right. One has been a past guest on my show and the other will be coming on later this spring. Both have been pivotal in garnering support for the candidates poised to overthrow the Manchurians who have taken over our government.
The Tea Party Movement cannot be overlooked and branded anymore. Rachel Maddow, Keith Oberman and Chris Mathews can continue sticking their feet in their mouths. Thank you, keep up the good work folks, see you in television history. This movement has galvanized this nation more than 9/11 could have ever done. The multi party, the multi ethnic, cultural, pro life, pro choice, for the war, against the war events have created an entirely new concept in political protest. These protests are organized, funded and are the most moving and uplifting public forums I have ever seen (and may never again see) in my life.
Two of the founders of The Worcester Tea Party; Ken Mandile and John Niewiecki have been guests on my show also. John invited me to speak at this past January event. Ken has worked tirelessly to create a formidable, local movement and John is the one I call the moral compass that keeps the movement honest and non partisan.
Something like this has never existed before. Our collective notion of a protest movement has been defined (again) by television. The hippies and anarchists, flamboyant homosexuals and anti American Panther and Nation of Islam groups have only managed to frighten the public and strong arm government policy. Neither of those groups have done anything to better this nation as a whole but rather promote an agenda and legislation that is strictly their own.

Three years ago I was at a crossroads in my life. I stepped outside one late night and walked to a local 24 hour store for a coffee. I met up with an old ‘townie’ friend who was there. His name is William LeBlanc. He is better known as Capt. PJ to the locals and on his radio show at WCUW Radio 91.3 fm, in Worcester Mass. His show is called the Rockin’ Revolution and has an overnight slot Wednesday night at midnight. Simply, by chance, he invited me to come to the show with him the following week and asked me to help and maybe get some time on the mic.
I have never looked back and I am eternally great full to that man for all he has done for me. I truly believe that at that dark moment in my life God picked me up and sent me to get that coffee: for what has resulted is the birth and growth of my own radio show and it is here I make the connection I promised the reader earlier.
In February of 2008 the first solo broadcast of The Meat and Potatoes Show aired and with it came something never before done at that station. In fact, I regularly cruise other stations during the day and am hard pressed to find any others with my unique formula. That formula was to include a deep love of music that has been lost at other stations and replaced with rules, edited music and worn out hit songs (That is my main beef). I also decided from the opening to do a ten to fifteen minute piece called “The Diatribe” where I would brazenly call to the carpet the sickness of Socialism, Liberalism, Political Correctness and decay of our great nation. I wanted to talk to people on my show openly and without edits who shared my feelings.
I decided to include myself in the electoral process. From politically charged interviews on various subjects I have grown to encompass and focus on the candidates who will shape the scene in Washington next January. I have been called to service by something, or some one to play a part and help change those dynamics I have watched erode this country over three decades.
There must be something I am doing right because I am often in trouble with the management at the radio station. I post copies of “The Diatribe” on the large bulletin board in the control room and get a chuckle from the hand written ‘hate’ scribbles in the margins. I have been censored and almost fined for my disregard of the status quo. I will try my best to live up to my reputation.
I have interviewed candidates from Massachusetts to California. I have interviewed Democrats and Republicans. I have had hour long conversations with candidates from Larouchepac.com about economic policy and rebuilding the scientific foundation of America. I have laughed with and dug deep into the ideas of the Tea Party Movement. I have had ‘gentlemen’s bets’ on the health care debate. I will be at the April 15th Tea Party Rally in Worcester Mass conducting taped street interviews amongst the crowd.
None of this could not have been done had the development of the internet and the freeing up of media not occurred. The old walls have fallen. There is a reason why many network news organizations and newspapers are going the way of the dinosaur. They are dinosaurs! They can repackage all they want. The public sees right through it. They are sick of it. Everyone is mobilizing and everyone is taking a stake in the game.
Never again will the landscape of the political process be familiar to those who remain committed to the policy of partisanship and a media formulated of bias. This swing back to the right is no longer some cyclical, political trend. I believe it is a revolutionary turn for the course of this nation. A turn that will last well beyond the next election cycle. This Conservative movement will include Democrats and Libertarians and Republicans and Tea Party. It is, quite simply, an evolutionary process born not of ‘adaptation’ but of old fashioned growth.

Great people are seldom called to serve in times of need. It is that time of need that defines great people. All of the names mentioned here were just ordinary Americans carrying on in life and being good citizens. I was not being a good citizen before. I was selfish, addicted to drugs and very angry. I am sorry for that.
Thanks to everyone who has supported the Meat and Potatoes Show. Thank you to Capt. PJ., Troy Tyree Steven Tucker, John Feeny, Wayne Peter Campbell, Rachel Brown, Ema Rueter, Kesha Rogers, Summer Shields, Harley Schlanger, Dave Arthur, Reid K Smith, Chris Damico, Stephan LaPierre, Ken Mandile, John Niewiecki, John McKeag, John Dennis, Tom Wesley and Thomas Zaleski and Brad Marston. See you after the election when we all make history.
Thank you Rebecca M. Goodall. My friend, my love, mother and anchor who stood firm in all storms..I love you..

This has been the Meat and Potatoes Show on WCUW 91.3 fm and online at WCUW.ORG. By God’s will and only by God’s will shall I see all of you here next week..



….And That Is The Diatribe….

Fuck you--Scott Brown

So, he came in as an outsider, some one who would lead the Republican party to respond to the wishes of the American People.We were duped. As a supporter of the Tea Party, I watched this campaign draw out. Now I see the swooning of the media over him. We were wrong, do not make this mistake again America! Stop playing this age old political game!!
Once inside, he did what all politicians do... They play ball.
What America is looking for is a politician who does not play ball, but rather, one who changes the rules of the game. That is right! Change the rules. New Sheriff in town mentality.
"Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.." Guess what? We all got fooled again...
Scott Brown goes in 2012, I could care less if he cures cancer, he ignored his base and that stain is a stain on all free thinking Americans everywhere.
Are you candidates not listenning? Apperently not! You hijacked the Tea Party and spoke about being different and outsiders. You are moles. Nothing more, nothing less.
As a Tea Party Supporter and radio voice, I will expose all of you on my radio show.You all need to perform a.."Wait a sec!" Brown did what??..And he was elected by..Who?...Shit..I cannot make that mistake..That bastard is finished!
Listen to me America, Tom Zaleski, John Dennis, Kesha Rogers, Tom Wesley, Summer Shields, Rachel Brown, Christy Mihos, Tim Cahill. All of you.
This is not your seat! This is a calling from God and America's people. Our nation needs help and help fast!. Do your fucking job! I make no apologies for my language. I am an American and I will say how, what and whatever I want! Your salary is payed by me and other's taxes. You do what I/we say, not what you want!
So, get busy. Get busy actually solving the problems. Not just appointing some "commission": solve the fucking problems..Do the thing that no others have done in the past..Actually solving! Actually doing! Making the hard choice!
I stood up for Scott Brown and he fucked us! I will tear him down personally!. This is a warning! War is on the doorstep if you others do not do what we, America. wants!!


..And That Is The Diatribe..

Meat and Potatoes Soldiers Onward

Meat and Potatoes Soldiers Onward


I wrote once before in "The Diatribe" a piece entitled "My Catharsis". In that piece I wrote about gaining perspective on what I was called to do by fate, circumstance and (plainly) what God must have in store for me. No, I am not on some calling, just trying to say that I am at peace with what I am doing and my plans to make the best of what I am doing.

In fact, I have been waiting for that first roadblock, that first hiccup. It has arrived and I feel nothing but confidence and conviction of my course and what I will continue to do. Because, you see, I am better than my detractors. A detractor is nothing more than some one who has yet to become something better than themselvs and cannot stomach the existence of any one else who has discovered that very fact.

This rectal sore that has put The Meat and Potatoes Show in jeopardy is an example of what exists on our society today. The world is full of self righteous, self appointed stool pidgeons who have been educated by the likes of divorced, man hating, feminazi Socialist school teachers, cuckholded men, Hillary Clinton's "It Takes a Village", Opra Winfrey with her imagined sense of reality, Political Correction freaks and the, " ..I find that offensive.." crowd. These people are convinced that every one elses' business is their business and they must tell some one about it. They are paranoid, insecure and lonely people. Even our Social Services are designed on that premise of "...you have to say something, call this anonymous hotline number!.." My mother used to tell me people like that should be pittied. I agree. It is sad.

Anything worth doing is worth the risk, and the losses associated with it. I have had other events like this in my life. I was younger then I was stronger then. I should be tired of this shit by now. I am, actually, I was hoping that with age would come some rest. However, I have found a strenght that didn't exist then. I have become more informed, educated, read, I have friends and help of others who are reading this and nodding their heads.."yes!".

Think I have been silenced? I would rather be fired and removed from the air than oblige these penis warts. I will return to the roots of M&P2010 until the mud settles and the air clears. Then..Then, I will launch the next, great phase of my radio show where I take it until the dawn with politics, questionable interviews, controversey, great fucking music, and the all important "Diatribe". So I leave you all with this...

Ladies and gentleman, I am Christopher Maider, I am "The Diatribe", this is and shall always be The Meat and Potatoes Show. By God's will, and only by, God's will shall I see you all here next week on wcuw radio 91.3 fm and online at wcuw.org..Thank you and good morning...


..And That Is The Diatribe..

The Existence of Stooges

The Existence of Stooges.

It was another wonderful episode of The Meat and Potatoes Show. My fans had joined me, my friends had joined me online. The music was mixing perfectly. It was me, the microphone, vinyl and digital. I had even shut the lights off because I like the warm glow of the board in front of me.
Little did I know that amongst the audience crept a cancer. This is probably the worst form of cancer because it doesn't have to exist. It exists solely because small minded people choose it to exist. They feed it, they share it with like minded imbeciles and inflict its damage upon others who are just trying to have some fun, or do a job, or share an idea.

This puke kept in the backround, so it wasn't any wonder I did not know about it. How long this fecal scraping had been listening to my show is anyone's guess. It doesn't matter. It (yes I call it..It), finally made it's move on Friday, February 12th.

I received an e-mail from the station manager informing me that some one complained to him in a separate e-mail. The complaint centered around three main issues. The first is that I was playing too many tunes from a particular artist in violation of some programming committee's decision. The second was that I was not calling out the station ID every thirty minutes. The third was that I was on too late and should have signed off at two am.

I thought to myself.."Is this moron serious?" That is his complaint? How small is this idiot's genitals that he would e-mail my boss about something as infantile as that? Again, it didn't matter how long this festering sebatious gland had been listening, it's actions have inflicted consequences.

My show is effectively cut in half. My west coast, late night audience is done. See ya. The music will be fractionalized. The interviews; I planned on making a foundation of my show for 2010. They now will have to be spaced out to allow weeks where I just play music or, possibly phased out altogether.I am not sure yet.

You see folks this stool is exactly what I have been talking about in The Diatribe. This abortion is obviously a Liberal. How do I know this? Because no sane minded Conservative or fan of my show would do such a thing. I know that because I have done whatever the fuck I wanted on my radio show since its birth in the late winter of 2008 and no one has said a friggen word until now!

You see Mr Stool. I only deal in facts on my radio show and one fact is certain. You are a pathetic, intellectual amputee with the integrity of a wet paper bag. If you have a problem with something I am doing, come to me. I may disagree with you but I will respect you for cowboying up. Your chosen method of dealing with me is to undermine me and go behind my back. Well, Mr. Candidate for Dipshit of the Week I do not take kindly to mental midgits behind me. I have a tendency to pull what sub mariners call a Crazy Ivan. Every once and awhile I turn around to check my back. Now that I have discovered you there, I will be certain to expedite a solution to your insecurity.

This idiot reminds me of the same genetic mistakes I used to see all the time in High School. You know the ones, the cowards who run to the teacher because they saw you smoking a joint behind the bleachers. Then you get ambushed by Principal Fartwater and you are banned from the Prom. You want to find out who squealed and make them squeal more, but in a whole new manner.

You quickly realize, at that point, there could have been other courses of action to take. Mature and gentlemanly courses of action. They are, either confronting you personally (like a man) or just plain minding their own fucking business.

..And That Is The Diatribe..