ANY OTHER QUESTIONS?

to ed in our nation's capital:

saw it,

got it,

blogged it

http://whodaguyhawaiicom.blogspot.com/

check time posted.

"media today," my, my,

was like some fucking EVENT,

bigger than the NFL draft,

the british royal fooozle-doozle,

breaking news, back to the snooze.

i've seen the real deal

from pearl harbor the fire

on the radio, headlining papers,

"coming in on the wire"

like JFK, MLK & RFK

(bobby was bigtime local news)

or woodstock news feeds

small step for mankind

tear down the wall

stand down the tiananmen tank.

"live" on CNN

like discovery disaster or kuwait blaster

or obama's inauguration itself.

trapped miners, bubbling gulfs, nukushima death waves,

gasoline price makes slaves to the the pump

like brothers and funk

like addicts and junk.

so give thanks to trump

who can now go fishing for the next red herring

on which he will hopefully choke himself to death.

rj, 4.27.11

Same as my daughter's. Mine is from the Territory of Hawaii.

FEAR OF ISLANDS: MANIAS & MEDIA

Oahu

Ah, the inferiority of those of us born on islands. Donald Trump popped out in Manhattan, for God's sake, where even a sterling silver post-circumcision cocaine catheter can't keep away that isle's bad vibes if they swim in family karma and DNA.

The most astute Australian I know believes the whole lot of them born there feel doomed to a circular nether destiny. They get off, runaway from the island and dream of how Sir Rupert Murrdoch is portrayed, him with his money, media and misuses.

Then there is England itself. In analog pre-globalized circumstances, set at a latitude that defines the word cold: “a temperature that is uncomfortably low for humans,” to quote one of Britain’s favourite sons, William Shakespeare: “But this place is too cold for hell," protests the porter to begin Act Two, Scene Three of “Macbeth.” “I’ll devil-porter it no further. I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire.”

I personally have displayed and been diagnosed with many phobias. Beyond the common type that cost thousands of hours and dollars for psychoanalytic consultations and the dispensation of pills and living with agateophobia itself—fear of insanity (or small type fonts)—there remains rooted in all island bred brethren the Big One: Insulaphobia, the fear of being isolated, or fear of islands.

It is tempting to add heft to text by extrapolating concepts by simply Googling facts. Besides how does Obama and Trump being born on islands determine aspects of their psychological nature sufficient to compile a humongous list of famous and controversial figures born on islands and draw certain conclusions based on the relationship of their offshore birth to the behavioral characteristics of the persona involved? Polished sufficiently, and given the function of the Internet to swallow and retain all data like a garbage disposal or paper shredder, any conclusion can be drawn. (Or at least until the Internet itself blows up.)

Baez

A slight obsessive detour yielded this fine example, an online data base listing Famous Gay, Lesbian & Bisexual People Born in Staten Island. There are three such folks, apparently, the most celebrated of which is Joan Baez, 1941.

My only play in this makahiki is to awaken and back the true Hawaiian -- be they keiki o ka 'aina or dug-in kama'aina committed to live and die here. Yeah, to awaken all with eyes and brain — awaken all to the INSULT to those of us born in this state or who have chosen to call Hawaii home.

On April 15, 20011 in Chicago, back in full stump mode, eye on the prize, Barack Obama killed them, striding out with the gait of an NBA player who’s waited too long for the playoffs. (Cameron Crowe having met Obama in a White House walk-and-shake describes the dude’s movements, looks and use of space, “Like Reggie Miller.”) Thursday night he called Chicago his “hometown.” The crowd inhaled it all and blew back blessings to the brother in the Chicago Bulls hat (and who wouldn't wanna see them surprise some folks?) But the President stated straight out and un-fucking-equivocally in American English that he was born in Hawaii.

Miller

What if "they" claimed Duke Kahanamoku was born in Brazil?

What if "they" claimed Daniel K. Inouye was born in Japan?

What if "they" claimed Don Ho was born in China?

What would Virginians do, how would they feel, if "they" claimed

George Washington, Thomas Jefferson,

James Madison, James Monroe, William Henry Harrison, John Tyler,

Zachary Taylor and Woodrow Wilson were all born in AFRICA?

Donald Trump has chosen to become the mouthpiece for "Them." He inspired a dude who emailed me rather than post a Comment on my previous musings about Trump The Liar: http://whodaguyhawaiicom.blogspot.com/

Since I, Ron Jacobs, am the first Hawaii-born author of an Obama biography—Hawaii’s best-selling non-fiction book of the decade, which shall go unnamed lest I be accused of hustling all 145-pages of it—I have been personally perplexed by four odd omissions by and about Obama since he was elected president in 2008, twenty-nine months ago.

First, why has no one in Hawaii (not to mention the rest of the U.S.) produced a popular song about Barack Hussein Obama, be it for or against him, reggae, rap or rock? Considering the thousands of "hits" that have assailed the citizenry's ears over the years you would think so, no? I can only speculate, no time or energy for pursuing that but I'd love to hear something. Maybe all the wars, revolutions, take up all the good "name songs." And they've been songs about the Gulf of Mexico long before BP blew its lid, just the kind of thing that inspires awesome "folk songs." And Fukushima tsunami's apocalyptic radioactive residue among that pain and suffering perhaps inspires a Woody Guthrie-san anthem to raise spirits, The most heart-stopping sounds are rousers like the rampant roars of chauvinism in contrapuntal vuvuzela at the World Cup last year in South Africa, but something better has to come along since it has been fifty-one years since Frank Sinatra sang "High Hopes" for Jack Kennedy.

Vaughan

The second concern is the lack of Hawaii’s ha’aheo—PRIDE—in their most accomplished and influential native son. Brother Palani Vaughan taught me the meaning of the word ha’aheo in the 1970s, when Hawaiians died for pride, fought for their lands, preserved their culture and left many brothers, sisters, and the kapuna with slogans. Like EDDIE WILL GO. I know. The legendary Eddie Aikau sang a song called "Hokule'a" on my show the day before they sailed. We talked about the looming voyage, it’s rewards and its dangers and I hold him in my heart forever.

Hawaii people possibly “Remember Pearl Harbor” but some forget warriors of the 1970s. The most Hawaiian man I ever knew was George Helm. Never was a song more right on than Jon Osorio and Randy Borden's "Hawaiian Eyes,” composed in honor of George and all that he proved in his young life before being swallowed by the sea between Oahu and Molokai. More than a fiery-eyed activists who walked the walk, George Helm was a splendid musician. He sang and accompanied himself on guitar, full-on ki’hoalu (slack key.) He left a single soulful album behind, “George Helm (Live at the Gold Coin)”. The venue was a club where he did weekend gigs across Kapiolani Boulevard from what was then the News Building.

Yeah, back then, when Hawaii had newspapers. A one newspaper town means living in darkness, scuttlebutt, disorientation and suffocation. In fact, if Donald Trump wants to invest further in local crap, perhaps he'll buy up the flimflam thing now peddled as a daily newspaper. It comes with a website that seems to be operated at times by chimpanzees.

The Honolulu Advertiser dated back to 1856. Those of us who lived here in the twentieth century read and most times depended on the Honolulu Advertiser. The beginning of its end began when the paper was purchased by Gannett in 1992, ten years after that company launched USA Today.

As it has evolved with time and technology, USA Today represents the corporate success that the Advertiser squandered away with the arrival of “parachute editors” who didn’t know the territory and share price-dictated policies that eroded the objectivity, quality and high standards upheld at the paper by generations of dedicated journalists. It all came down on May 3, 2010, biggest thing to hit the new room since the Space Shuttle Challenger, a tragedy that hit Hawaii hard since Hilo's Capt. Ellison Onizuka perished with the rest of the crew. Then, a new company set up by Black Press--nothing to do with African American journals; it’s the name of the CEO David H. Black’s family, Canadian publishers--took over operations of Advertiser and merged it with the Star-Bulletin on June 7, 2010, shrunk the staff, dumped a printing press and formed the slim and shallow, Honolulu Star-Advertiser. Honolulu Advertiser Lite.

The third thing about Obama since he’s been president that I find perplexing: He has never used the word “aloha” much, if it all, in any of his speeches outside of Hawaii. This fact gratuitously tossed in for the TBI (Trump Bureau of Investigation) gumshoes looking for non-birther proof.

The fourth and final disappointment about Obama I personally find most egregious is the unfulfilled campaign promise he made several days before the 2008 election in which he pledged to reverse the Bush laws that made possession of medical marijuana illegal. If you spent a year researching and writing about someone, especially from your own neighborhood, such on-the-record promises being ignored as the clock ticks, well, that is something to consider of a dude who once claimed to Time magazine that he could talk anyone into anything.

Mahalo to some of my respected friends for their support and understanding of what it is I am trying to stir up beyond the totally obvious: Brother Bumpy Kealoha, the Rev. Dennis Kamakahi, Edward Ka'ahea, Rolf Nordahl, Sister Nalani Olds, the spirit of King Curtis Iaukea and the man who knows the story, David Maraniss.

TRUMP LIES: THE WAIKIKI EVIDENCE

The Royal Hawaiian Hotel, 1927

DONALD TRUMP'S PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED CONDO-HYPED-AS-A-HOTEL is not where you want to be in Waikiki. Take it from me. I was born in Waikiki when but two hotels operated on Kalakaua Avenue. Closest to Diamond Head stood the stately porte-cochère of the Moana Hotel (1891) welcoming guests with a view straight through its koa-lined the lobby to the beach and sea. With the twentieth-century came the truly world famous Royal Hawaiian Hotel (1927.) The famed "Pink Palace of the Pacific," de rigueur quarters for roving dignitaries of every description, engulfed its guests with instant Aloha. Tropical gardens launched leaping Bird of Paradise up from the sweet horticultural buffet through clusters of swaying palm trees casting shadows on Her Pinkness, ringed with a foliate green bouquet on three sides, leaving the magnificent makai exposure open to the sand and sea. Trade winds rustled the leaves but no one or nothing hustled visitors into the open-air-but-private velvet gardens, elegant Moroccan profiles, arching Asian interiors, and ice cold pineapple juice spurting from a stainless steel drinking fountain close by the main desk where arrivals checked in, more often than not trailed by luggage certifying the owner as a world traveler with the means to select any spot on earth to luxuriate, but having chosen the hanohano (glorious), hoʻohie (regal), hokele (hotel) pulsating at the heart of Waikiki. The Royal Hawaiian Hotel catered to one’s every whim and need with a loving touch provided by a caring kama’aina staff, no matter the social station of the guest, or the room rate, which included free parking for quests who owned a Ford flivver or a Rolls-Royce Silver Ghost. The original Royal Hawaii Hotel occupied sixteen acres magnificently situated at powdery white Waikiki beach. Everything about it, then and now, trumped the feeble footprint Devious Donald erected when he added another abomination to the neighborhood some eight decades later. Just another example of how ....

IN 2011 DONALD TRUMP PASTED HIS NAME ON A JOINT SITUATED NOT AT ALL "ON THE BEACH AT WAIKIKI." His eponymous cement heap squats on a street across from a U. S. Army base and a frantic branch of the U.S. Post Office, flanked by vendors peddling gewgaws, knickknacks, baubles, kitsch and tchotchke trinkets to tourists who can’t afford the $28.00 to merely park at Trump’s sorry showplace, let alone eat, sleep and swim there—albeit in the sixth floor Infinity Pool. A recent guest has this to say, as excerpted from the trumped up home page of this flawed faux resort:

“The additional services one would expect at 5 star location for leisure travel were at best mediocre. The pool deck is limited, and the pool attendant service was spotty. Some days it was easy to order food and cocktails, another day we actually had to and track someone down to serve us afternoon cocktails. AND he seemed put off by the fact that he had to come out there at all. There is also no “TRUMP” area on Waikiki beach. While the hotel has an arrangement with several beach umbrella/chair rental services to bill back you room, other hotels of the same caliber offer direct beach access for free. The cleaning service also left a lot to be desired. Frequently, they would come to service the room before 9 am and NEVER come back to clean it later even though we would be gone from the hotel all day long.

"Turn down service also occurred at 6 or 6:30 every evening, even though the concierge had made our dinner reservations for 7 or 8 pm. Leisure travelers are not going to be out of the room by 9 am, nor at dinner at 6 pm - at least not the way most people I know go on vacation. As for the room itself, it was spacious BUT there was no closet or armoire in which to hang up clothes. Based on the room description I was also expecting a full kitchenette. Our room, however, simply had a wet bar with an under counter refrigerator/freezer. There wasn't even a coffee maker, nor were there utensils or a microwave for leftovers. I wouldn't stay there again unless I was in Honolulu for business."

PUTTING POLITICS, POLICIES AND PUFFERY ASIDE, I ask you my fellow Americans: Would you rent a hotel room in Hawaii from this man? -- even if Barack Obama were born in an African tribal hut, which he was not. The 44th President of the United States was born less than two miles from 223 Saratoga Road, where Trump planted his hype of a hotel, in which I bet he himself has never set foot. The Hawaiian world for Donald Trump is Konala Kukae.

DONALD TRUMP LIES !!!

Donald Trump Lies

THIS IS THE TRUTH

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMBweS-uKaY

Donald Trump’s only connection with Hawaii is the condo he fronts in Waikiki. The Trump International Hotel™ Waikiki Beach Walk® is located on the short street that runs to the ocean off Kalakaua Avenue, that two mile Strip, one of those exotic special few trademark thoroughfares on the planet that brand international resort locations and draw the moneyed and media like magnets to come party, display and indulge their celebrity. To many, Waikiki is the most desirable spot on American soil. No trips to Guam are given away by Regis & Kelly. And when the free vacation wheel stops anywhere other than on Maui, Kona, Kauai or Waikiki the audience moans, no matter how exotic, comfy and delicious other destinations may be. As far as I know Trump has never been in the joint, though he sends his daughter to hustle the place, which is really a ticky-tacky wicky-wacky faux elite condo actually funded by a real estate cabal on the Mainland who pays Trump to slap his name on it along with his toiletries, beauty pageants, gambling dens and online university. To be continued . . .

If you wish to join in contributing with us to this new

website please contact Ron Jacobs: rj@hawaii.rr.com

I have all the FACTS, just need mighty volunteers.

Please forward this to like minded folks and watch this blog

starting today, 575 days until the 2012 General Election.

THIS IS A REVOLUTION OF THE REVOLTED

RADIO BREEDS IDIOTS

Thanks to the Radio Daily News, which arrives "the night before" here in beautiful Hawaii, I just read this story out of Ottawa. Appears to be a 2011 version of the teenage boy who gets afflicted by radio. The newspaper transcript is verbatim. My subsequent comments are in bold face. What else?

Death threat against radio DJ wasn’t serious, teen testifies

BY ANDREW SEYMOUR, OTTAWA CITIZEN. APRIL 5, 2011.

A 15-year-old Ottawa teen accused of running a pirate radio station admitted to threatening to kill a Hot 89.9 DJ Monday, but said he wasn’t serious.

“OK, kay, kay. I mighta said that he, uh, made me want to kill him, yeah, like the way he totally ignores Dabeez, man, totally ignores them. Have YOU heard Dabeez, huh? He is fuckin’ deaf and a bloody snob don’t know a CD from uh MP3. And he totally igornes Dabeez, too, gimme a break!"

The teen, who was then 14 years old, testified that he threatened Ryan Lindsay because he was rude when he called him and he was copying the songs the teen was playing on his own upstart radio station. “He talks like he knows everything or something,” said the teen, who admitted to phoning the DJ about 50 times between October 2009 and Jan. 15, 2010 to ask him about radio equipment and request songs.

“What do you think of the bass on the new Zaz 505 microphone, man?”

“When I listen to 88.9 on Bose it sucks? What is that? Do dose Bose speakers suck, or what? So why don’t you stop playing all dose Bose ads on Hotshit 89.9, huh?”

“He was saying ‘your station is stupid’ and making fun of the way I talked on the radio,” said the teen. “He was insulting everything I said.”

“You have reached the Hot 89.9 switchboard. Office hours are from 9 a.m until 5:30 p.m., closed Saturdays and Sundays. If you wish to by an ad, please call Ellen Kindle on Monday. Thanks for listening and have a nice day. CLICK' (TRICK VOICE #1:) “Uh, this is Irwin from Cleeves. Couldya please play “Atlas,” okay, Ryan?” (TRICK VOICE #2:) “Pick your bloody nose because you can’t pick music. You SUCK, Lindsay, man’

The teen testified he told Lindsay he would kill him.

“Someone should blow you up and your fuckin’ answering machine. Dabeez Rule!"

“Why did you use those words?” asked his lawyer, François Dulude. “I don’t know,” said the teen, who can’t be identified under provisions of the Youth Criminal Justice Act.

Annotator's Note: Where was THAT when I needed it?

Even though he wasn’t serious about the threat, the teen admitted he then showed up at the radio station in a vehicle driven by his father about 30 minutes later. They drove off because Lindsay wasn’t waiting outside like he said he would, the teen testified. He called Lindsay afterward to ask where he went, he added.

“Hey, Ryan, did you see that station wagon parked outside your station, yeah, ‘cross the street from the front door after you ended your show? By playing that stupid “Noodles Up The Stream” by Iraq Bounceback you did it man. You are dead meat in the street!"

The teen also acknowledged telling police he thought an Industry Canada investigator who seized his radio equipment earlier that day would be “better off dead.”

“The prick cop ripped off me radio, he did!”

But the teen was adamant he didn’t make any similar threats against John Mielke, another radio personality from Bob FM.

“Mienke sucks too! Never plays Dabeez! Fuckin’ never ever, man!

Mielke called police four days later after hearing the teen’s audio blog post where the teen allegedly threatened to kill himself. The teen ended up being arrested by police and spent the day in hospital undergoing a psychiatric evaluation.

(PODCAST:) “Hello. I am an unidentified teen wishing to make a statement for the you tubes. This is my suicide blogpast, uh, blog podcast speech for why Ryan Lindsay made me do this when I drinking this here. I do not wish to spend another day on this planet with a person so insanely stupid … and fucking DEAF … that he cannot get his mind around Dabeez. Has the dickhead ever even read what M. Norsel said about them in ROLLING STONE for Christ’s sake? Hey, man, Ryan, what comes around goes around. Like they sing in “Altar,” man … You can run around mountains and hide behind clouds, lie in the press, die in the shrouds, but when moment comes mon, it’s what he hears and what he strums mon.” I believe that, all you who may see this. And I drink to it. (HOLDS UP GLASS, SWIRLS LIME-COLORED FLUID AND BEGINS TO SIP. TRACK FADES: “Atlas” by Dabeez.)

The next day Mielke called police again after reporting that the teen was online again, this time posting a video asking if he should “shoot” the radio station employee who called police.

“Hey it’s me, asshole! Get this now! I’m gonna come over there in my station wagon to the station and shoot the bastard who called the fucking cops!”

The teen maintained Monday that his words were misheard. “I said ‘sue’,” said the teen, who admitted being angry when police arrived to arrest him.

“If you try to touch me I will sue you and call my barrister. Pig!”

Police officers have testified he had to be restrained with handcuffs to a paramedic backboard to be taken to hospital.

“Well then, asshole, try these on for size,” said the arresting officer after ripping the (audio) buds from the unidentified teen’s ears, pulling out his iPhone, and grinding his boot into the thing.

The teen said he was mad because the police claimed he said something he didn’t say.

By the way, who said what to the writer of this story, he who perhaps is himself a teen?

The teen testified he launched the radio station on Oct. 31 after buying transmitting equipment. He said he went off the air in December because he planned to get a licence, but went back on air on Dec. 24 when an engineer told him it was “impossible” to get a radio licence in Ottawa.

“I got this stuff at the mall, from Radio Shacke, and then I think it came on like at the end of October because Randall heard it online so I figured to get a licence (after I learned the British spelling) and play some Dabeez new CD. You know, the one that dropped on Christmas and then some engineer, maybe it was Ernie, said that you can’t get one here.”

The teen has pleaded not guilty to violating the Radiocommunication Act as well as four charges of criminal harassment and three counts of uttering threats. He is also charged with assaulting a police officer and obstructing justice.

I suggest the teen learn how to spell Radiocommunication Act and that he be excommuncated from the Ryan Lindsay Fan Club of Ottawa. (Secombe, out.)

© Ron Jacobs ~ Kane’ohe, Hawai’I, April 6, 2011