My Neville Persona

January 22, 2014

I have created various Twitter personas, one of them being “gay bachelor raconteur Neville Snidermannington III.” For your delectation, I’ve posted these comments as my first round of “Neville,” totalling 34 bon mots in all. In some cases, the context is not clear without also including the tweet that inspired my pun. Enjoy these satirical repartees that have brightened up the Empire of Twits beyond any previous tweets ever twold.


I’d Sooner Buy Hitler A Pony

April 29, 2011

Sometimes I get a little mischievous with Youtube comments. Just look for my handle “pewterbot9” at the bottom of a post, to find a particular declaration by yours truly…33 all told. (If my handle appears above a comment, it indicates someone responding back to me.) Please note this is an image of the comment page, so you can’t jump-search my handle or click on any links…you can only scroll either up or down.

Though to simplify your perusal, I’ve marked each of my posts with a red arrow “<,” so they’re hard to miss.

To view the actual video, or to add your own comment, click here, or anywhere on the comment page below.



Holiday Soldier Spirit

December 4, 2010






I am glad to suddenly have possession of some excess money (parents inheritance), in order to donate to certain causes. So far, I’ve received $2,900 from Dad’s refund of car insurance, fireman’s retirement, etc. My brother is collecting on all these loose ends, giving me 50% of whatever he gets. This is not part of the trust fund set up for me…which will not start for a while yet, maybe as long as three years from now. Trust fund should get me anywhere between $5,000-35,000…we just have to see. This includes the sale of their mobile home in FL, which will take at least a couple years to process (in light of this horrid economy).

So the money will not even be enough to repair my mouth, and get a set of dentures…considering how expensive it is in this country. Therefore, I feel good about donating some of it to worthwhile causes (which in my case are mostly gay causes). Two days ago, my favorite talk show host, Karel (the only gay one on the airwaves, who is doing a fantastic job) has announced he is in need of financial support to keep his show rolling…so he set up a “Karel Klub”, rather than start charging for his podcasts. You can donate $25 or more, per year. So I donated that amount…and will donate more later on, via his online store. See:

http://www.radiokrl.com/radiokrl/The_Klub.html

You can listen to him live BTW, Mon-Fri 3-6pm PST at:

http://www.green960.com/mediaplayer/

Karel’s a hoot and a holler; you’ll relish every moment of his show. Plus, you’ll get to see the world through queer eyes, to boot! (Don’t think for a moment that–in spiteof his success–he doesn’t put his life at risk each and every day, in our tragically homophobic culture, by being such an openly gay, radio celebrity. Send this dude some love and gratitude, to counter all the email and cell phone hatred.)

This morning I donated $25 to Wikileaks, in order to support the very brave whistle blower, Julian Assange:

http://wikileaks.ch/support.html

Notice this is a new URL, as gov’t and corporate pressure (via US, Sweden, France, Australia et al) is forcing closure of Wikileaks’ original site, as well as any other alternate sites that pop up. I plan to donate another $25 or so, later this month.

And tonight, I just donated $50 in cash, plus another $50 purchase of a “Courage to Resist” hoodie, to support Bradley Manning (another Wikeleaks activist BTW). He is the gay soldier who exposed the deceit of our war in Afghanistan…and may have to serve as much as 35 years in prison, for his courageous act. See:

http://www.bradleymanning.org/

It’s rare that I ever have enough money to donate to causes I believe in. This time around, I do. And it feels wonderful. I believe my Randolph’s spirit is behind this (his upcoming birthday is smack dab in the middle of the holiday season: December 30).

So, happiest holidays to all true liberals and pro-gay patriots!

Sinqueerly yours,

Ezekiel J. Krahlin (Jehovah’s Queer Witness)
http://www.gay-bible.org

Picture of the hoodie


Homeless Hacker Turns Snitch

October 13, 2010

Photo of Adrian Lamo

John, this is just an update regarding “homeless hacker” Adrian Lamo (or should I say “Lame-O”). As you already know, I met him back in 2001 at a 2600 Hackers gathering by Embarcadero Plaza…after which he visited me at my humble abode, to exchange some computer hardware. He was then 20 yrs. old. I found him to be an unpleasant sort, rather high strung, the “faggoty” type, so to speak. I later learned (through the news) that he is a Jehovah’s Witness, which only adds to his unlikeability. So he eventually becomes the notorious “homeless hacker” and his reputation skyrockets in the global hacker community.

But as it turns out, he is now being vilified as a gov’t snitch, and I think, rightly so. I have learned a long time ago, that these faggoty types (as opposed to non-stereotype or non-“drama queen” gays) are prone to stabbing their friends in the back. He also describes himself as “bisexual” which is not likely, as bisexuals do not have that faggoty trait.

I only discovered, today, that Adrian is the one responsible for snitching on that gay soldier who released secret military documents to Wikileaks. Here are five news reports on this matter (3 text, 2 videos):

Former Grey-Hat Hacker Adrian Lamo Turned Snitch

WikiLeaks ‘Snitch’ Hacker Faces Wrath of His Peers

Adrian Lamo: hacker who betrayed Wikileaks mole

CNN – ex-hacker ‘adrian lamo’ exposed wikileaks suspect

Guy who snitched on Warlogs leaker gets trashed by hackers

Which reports only affirm my conclusion that the Linux groups here in the Bay Area have all been usurped and infiltrated by right-wing and/or Libertarian scum…as have most other progressive groups of any stripe.

Hmmm, might be interesting to check out again (after a 9-year absence) these 2600 gatherings at the Embarcadero. They meet the first Friday of each Month starting 5pm…so the next meetup is Nov. 5. Hopefully, no one will recognize me…I’ll loiter around the fringes. It’s an outdoor event on the ground plaza, so that should be easy.

–Finally, this excerpt from Wikipedia:

Wikileaks and Bradley Manning
Main article: Arrest of Bradley Manning

In June 2010, Adrian Lamo reported to U.S. Army authorities that Specialist Bradley Manning had leaked classified information to him. Lamo also claims that Manning confessed to him having provided the video footage of the July 12, 2007 Baghdad airstrike incident in Iraq to Wikileaks. Lamo claims that Manning also leaked thousands of pages of classified data and diplomatic cables to Wikileaks, though Wikileaks claims otherwise. Lamo told Glenn Greenwald in an interview that he offered Manning protection under both journalist shield laws, and the clergy-lay confidentiality tradition, and said that Manning declined.

According to German newspaper Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, a reporter from Forbes has published information, according to which Adrian Lamo works as a “security specialist” with “project Vigilant”, a private security institution which also works for the FBI and the NSA.

Lamo has been criticized by fellow hackers such as at Hackers on Planet Earth 2010.

–end of excerpt

Video of Adrian Lamo


Good Riddance, Alternet!

May 12, 2010

Alternet logo.

As a gay activist and blogger, I really appreciated Alternet’s equal and frequent inclusion of gay rights topics…something which way too many progressive organizations continue to ignore, though things are gradually improving. For that reason, I finally decided to create my own blog on Alternet. Then one day, after, oh about two months of blogging, I find that my blog site has been utterly wiped out! No warning, no explanation as to why. Now, I am accustomed to this or that homophobe attacking me on the Internet, in their sometimes-successful attempts to shut me out. It just goes with the territory…and often, I have absolutely no recourse, suddenly made invisible and silent against my will. My blog here was:

http://blogs.alternet.org/hobohomo

Now, my articles are often blunt, aggressive and/or stridently anti-heterosexist…but no way are any of my articles worthy of being censored by any truly progressive venue. See for yourself, at my other blog, where I publish the same articles I have on Alternet:

http://zekeblog.wordpress.org

I’m afraid that your service has caved in to one or more homophobic ranters…or even perhaps, you have one such in your ranks! I am sorry to say, I will no longer participate in your forums, as I have for several years, nor will I bother to read anything more from your site. Your gay support leaves some things to be desired, I conclude.



Date: Wed, 12 May 2010 17:20:20 -0700 [17:20:20 PDT]
From: beta_feedback@alternet.org
To: Zeke Krahlin
Subject: Thank you for your feedback

Dear AlterNet Reader,

Thanks for your sharing your thoughts and impressions today.

We very much want to know what you think about our new site. Our staff will read every comment submitted — every single one. We’ll do this because we want to build the best possible website we can. You are the reason we exist; over the years, we have incorporated valuable reader suggestions and comments into improving our organization.

Thanks again for your feedback, and especially for your support.

Sincerely,

The Editors
AlterNet.org

P.S. – AlterNet is reader-supported, independent journalism. We’ve been at this since 1998. As we transform to meet your evolving media needs, we’ll need your support more than ever. To make a tax-deductible contribution to AlterNet to support our work, please go to https://www.alternet.org/donate/ .


How I Acquired The Cloak Of Invisibility, And The First Thing I Did With It

April 21, 2010

Actually, I’m not really sure how I acquired the damn Cloak, but it must have been a reward for one of my Odyssey adventures, which the gods have deemed to erase from my memory until a future time. I believe it was woven from Ariadne’s thread tossed aside in a forgotten ball, once Theseus made his escape from the Labyrinth.

But who wove it, and who gave it the power to make one invisible? And who presented it to me, and for what accomplishment? Alas, these truths remain hidden to me for a while longer…thus I must proceed with my tale without the benefit of any history. (Perhaps it was my spill in the River Lethe, battling some sort of beast or another, that washed away these memories.)

The Cloak itself is velvet black, with a honey shimmer to it…as if a lock of the Golden Fleece. were woven into its threads. It BELONGS to me…it KNOWS it belongs to me…as whenever I fling it about myself, it always falls upon my body in the most artful manner. It complements, it embraces, it cherishes me with dear caresses, and never clings! Yet it slides off with not a moment of pause–once I release my grasp–and falls graciously to the floor with a pleasant “whoosh”. Neither static-y nor clingy, no dirt or dust ever gathers upon it…for which I conclude the unknown existence of some Polyester-blend goddess (perhaps the offspring of that rotten cyclops Polyphemus, who once chased after some lovely trifle of a mortal named Esther. Perhaps the Cloak’s power of invisibility came from the blinding of this cyclops by Odysseus).

So I stand on the banks of the River Lethe, contemplating all the delicious adventures that will be mine, as the invisible voyeur of others’ adventures…when along comes fickle Eros. As I am presently concealed beneath the Cloak, he would pass right by me without knowing I’m even there…except for my stepping in his way, for which he is unexpectedly knocked over. After gathering his arrows, Eros stands up, stares at my new gift of the Cloak of Invisibility…and after a few moments says, “Dude: I have a great idea where you could use that Cloak.” (And where could that be?) I think.

“The Bedrooms of the Gods of course,” brags Eros, “why, you could write the steamiest novels the world has ever seen, by merely recounting what you witness! You’d be an overnight sensation, a romance novelist par excellence, and a multi-millionaire to boot!” (I would also know what tickles Apollo’s fancy) I muse, as one mortal who is very hot for a particular deity or two.

“Oh, yes, why, the benefits to your personal life would be enormous,” admits Eros. “You would have ANY God you want by the balls, and caress them whenEVER you please! I must apologize for tempting you
with mere lucre, Ezekiel…as I know you value the immaterial over the material, as should any seeker of truth. Now, just think what all that money could do for the poor, the lame, and the downtrodden!” (Then let’s go! You need not convince me further…I’m hot to trot.)

We arrive at the Bedroom Palace (teleportation? flight? memory still hazy, try again later) somewhere on the eastern slope of lofty Mount Olympus…which contains secluded chamber after chamber, to satisfy even the most finicky demands of privacy for which any goddess or god could wish. Solid, thick oak doors trimmed in eggshell white and 24 caret gold-plated brass fixtures, are so sturdy not even Hephaestus‘s mighty hammer could batter them down.

“Let me show you the bedroom where Apollo and Zeus do the nasty”, Eros leads me down a long, long hallway until we reach a room whose door he pushes ajar. I hesitate.

“Go right in, no one’s home. I’m right behind you” whispers Eros, nudging me through the entrance. We stand amid silken tapestry and drapes of purest white, purple, and gray that grace tall windows and a ginormous bed against the far end of the room. Rose-scented candles in sconces and on small tables lend a soft, gentle light to the entire room. Eros guides me into a closet large enough to fit a banquet table and all its guests. “You can hide here, in their wardrobe,” speaks Eros. “That, plus your Cloak to shield you, will make you completely secure from their finding you.”

I am about to ask some pertinent questions–such as how long do they partake in their love making (knowing that a single minute to a god is a century to a human, and that I could easily starve to death, or grow old and die in this closet, long before they’re even done with foreplay…thus you can understand my concern)–when Eros suddenly jumps back, says “I hear them coming”…then quick as a flash disappears.

I am left standing amid all the masculine trappings of war gods: the musky scent of leather and rough cloth soaked in godly sweat nearly puts me into a heavenly swoon! But I stand determined to witness what no mortal eyes have ever witnessed before: Zeus boinking the daylights out of Apollo! (Or is Zeus a bottom? Or are they more egalitarian in bed, than elsewhere? Do they like to french kiss? How much foreplay? Or are they rough and ready from the get-go? These juicy details, and much more, I am soon to find out!)

I hear voices and the door creak open, then shut. The Cloak of Invisibility is fully flung over my frame as I stand, shaking, knees wobbling in anticipation of my daring plunder into the most personal aspect of the lives of gods! A deep voice booms: “I don’t remember leaving the door open, do you? Is anyone here?” I stand, frozen, barely breathing. “Check the closet.” Arms push around the voluminous robes sliding on their hangers, but fortunately pass right by the spot on which I stand. I cannot see who it is. (Apollo or Zeus?) Not that I can’t see through my Cloak (of course I can), but the clothes shielding me that cover the Cloak block my view! Drat! I need to move a little forward…well, let’s wait till they calm down and get to bed.

“Uh, hey stud…lock that door will ya. I think we should, uh, mess around for a time. Don’t you?” I hear them disrobe: the gentle “shush” of togas falling, and the rattle of buckles. Again, one (I can’t see who) approaches the closet and plunks a heavy sword against the wall…it slides and crashes right onto my foot! Ouch! I better hold my breathe! Ouch! Damn friggin’ sword…must weigh as much as a horse…my foot is throbbing, god, this ain’t so much fun any more! Egads! Ouch, ouch ouch!

I can’t help myself; a moan wells up from my throat.

“Wait! Did you hear that?”

“What? Who could hear anything after that sword crash? Deafening! No, I didn’t hear a thing.”

“Well, I heard something, and it came from that closet!”

“And just what do you think you heard, little missy? Sure it’s not your bat ears ringing?”

(Little missy? One’s a fem? I can’t believe this! Wait’ll I get my book published! Uh-oh, he’s coming back to the closet!)

“Huh, maybe it was just an echo.” Arms swoosh through the clothing once more, and I stand frozen in fear. “Wait, what’s this?”

“What’s what? Lemme see what you’re talking about.”

I still can’t see either one of the gods, though their very breaths warm the cloak under which I tremble.

“Okay, whoever you are, come out of there now…we see you!”

(They do? I don’t believe them, they’re calling my bluff. After all, no one’s grabbing at me.)

“We can see your feet, fool! Look!”

(I look down and lo and behold! The Cloak of Invisibility hangs its hem just inches above my toes. I am not completely covered! I sigh, and drop the Cloak, and all pretense…and step out from behind the
wardrobe, to see…not gods, but goddesses! A pair of uber-dykes! What the hell is this all about?)

“Who are you?” demands the busty platinum-blonde, now hastily robed in a bedsheet.

(Ezekiel, madame…Ezekiel Joseph Krahlin.)

“Madame? You call the great goddess of the sacred hunt, Artemis, ‘madame’? Just where do you come from, little Ezekiel?” speaks the other, a voluptuous nymph of seaweed hair and piercing yellow-green eyes.

(Ummm…San Francisco, planet earth…that is, in my waking life. At present, I presume I’m in one of my vision dreams.)

“One of your vision dreams? Ha!” mocks Artemis, “Tell us who put you up to this or I’ll flay your skin and feed it to the Harpies!”

I’m not about to reveal my source…not when I’d have the wrath of yet another god upon my soul. So I just stand there, trembling, but lips firmly shut.

“Eros, eh? I should have known! That little imp is always messing up Mt. Olympus whenever he gets the chance!”

Too bad, they can read my mind. (He told me this is the bedroom of Zeus and Apollo.) I plead.

That’s your excuse, mangy mortal?” hollers Artemis. “You were going to spy on gods? This amounts to hubris of the highest order. I hope you realize the consequences of your heinous act!”

(Ummm…being chained to a boulder and having an eagle pluck out my liver for all eternity?) I venture an educated guess.

Taken aback, Artemis first glances at the nymph, then at me, than again at her partner…and they both burst out in laughter. “Come here, Ezekiel”, Artemis gently takes my arm, and leads me to a chair where she urges me to sit.

“No harm shall come to you, mischievous mortal. It is Eros who should take the blame. I have a plan for vengeance, but it will take me some minutes to work it out. Please enjoy Sylvia’s company in the meantime…I’ll be back shortly.” And with a wide grin on her beatific face, Artemis departs.

Sylvia and I have a heartfelt conversation about the homeless lesser gods in Olympus, and what can possibly be done about it, if anything.

Finally, after the passage of a little time, Artemis returns. “Boy have I got a treat for you, Ezekiel!” And she tugs my arm in a wish to escort me to parts yet unknown.

Artemis, Sylvia, and I (carried in Sylvia’s strong arms, due to my injured foot) proceed down enormous corridors, to yet another heavy wooden door, through which we enter. There, tied by his four limbs to the posts of a water bed, kneels Eros on all fours, his nether end most prominent. Sylvia sets me on the floor, where I stand, staring in disbelief: I do drool. “He’s all yours for the next twenty minutes, Ezekiel. I’m sure you’ll know what to do!” says Artemis, and they depart.

I do indeed…for twenty of the most beautiful minutes of my life, in sheer Tantric bliss! And this experience has shown me why, when spelled backwards, Eros means “sore”! So this ends the story of my winning the Cloak of Invisibility, how I first used it, and how I lost it in the heat of the moment before I ever got to use it more than once.

ADDENDUM: Were those succulent twenty minutes, the minutes of a god, or of a mortal? I leave you to ponder, and eat your heart out.


Parable Of The Laptop Billionaire

April 14, 2010

Once upon a future time–indeed barely a few years from now–a man will become so rich that even the combined resources of Bill Gates, Donald Trump and the Russian Mafia, will not be able to buy him out! In fact, on paper he will pretty much own the world.

Yet because of the complex and vast web of gov’t restrictions and global treaties, no person, no business will ever “own” the world. On the other hand, even though any major changes in his stock options, bank transactions, political stances, or favorite line of underwear, will inevitably cause one or more 2nd or 3rd world nations to collapse into utter chaos and misery (again)…he will NOT be held personally or even morally responsible.

In other words, he will not be a benefactor by nature. So you can imagine how much pleading charities will go through, to even receive a single red CENT from this Wealthiest Man in The World AND All of History. Oh, did I mention he was born with a physical anomaly that looked like two little goat horns poking through his forehead? They were surgically removed in his first week of life. (I just had to throw that in. “Zeus ex machina” and all that good stuff, you know?)

So you can ALSO imagine how many charities dedicated to feeding the starving children of Africa, will come begging at his e-mailbox every week! Eventually, he will stop to consider their woeful e-plea bleatings…and after some months of deliberation, he will present his decision (quote):

“I do not want to help these troubled tykes in the way that YOU propose,” he will proclaim on worldwide satellite link-up, his face commanding every TV screen on the planet. “But I do feel as you, that their situation is quite urgent, and the sooner generosity comes their way–and in greater and greater portions–the sooner will their sorrows end.”

“So what I will do,” he will then pause and look up from his speech; and the world will suddenly become a blanket of silence for a few, eternal heartbeats.

So what he will do, is buy all the destitute in the world (not just in Africa, and not just starving children), a laptop. And not just any laptop, but a really high quality laptop with the latest technology. They will even have WiFi!

But how will he produce 2.5 billion (give or take a few tens of millions of) laptops in the short span of 24 hours? Actually, that’s none of our business; he OWNS the planet…er, I mean “patent”.

So here will be all these starving kids in Africa, without a roof over their heads (and many without any parent, sibling, relation or friend in the world), on the scorched savanna, perishing right before the lenses of first-world camcorders…as they bring into every home in Amerika and the world, those shocking images of freshly dead, emaciated bodies of darkling elves curled around a Thinkpad X-999. (Time Magazine, front cover 10 August 2013: For Every Grave A Laptop.)

Most unfortunate, this collateral damage…though unavoidable when transitioning from standalone to network. Computer jokes–that is, jokes rendered by AI systems–will be made about humans as nothing more than “dumb terminals”. Despite this ribbing, Underground Queer IT Experts (both digital and analog) will become the New Heroes, and little children shall learn to hack all of us into a better reality.

And when they start hacking the world, they will first redistribute all the wealth, so that everyone will be comfortably well off. Of couse, by then the Laptop Billionaire will no longer be a billionaire. Not even a millionaire. Or a thousand or HUNDRED aire! There will BE no wealthy person on the planet any more! Interestingly enough, the Laptop Billionaire will also be a very handsome gay male, who’ll discover a new career in tasting flavored birthday cards for Hallmark.

There shall become writ this New Law of Government (and the newest Amendment to the United States Constitution: number 482 to be precise), which will also be Moses’ ELEVENTH commandment:

“Thou shalt own a laptop by right of birth.”

Yes, the right to own a laptop provided FREELY by the government, shall become as much a birthright as the freedom to pursue The Angel Of Happiness. And eventually, laptops will become so INTIMATELY embedded in our lives, that this New Law, this Eleventh Commandment, shall finally be altered to read:

“Thou shalt be TRANSFERRED to a laptop at birth.”

–the end *** BEEP [sleep mode]


“The day will soon arrive when biological and computer viruses will become completely indistinguishable from each other.” – Mighty Mouse Virus


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