What Matters Most!

If I were born with cataracts in both my eyes and all I could see were my dreams,  would life be worth living?  And I were deaf and I never heard Mozart or Beethoven would my life be in vain?  Who among us would trade painless breaths of fresh air for the illusion of power and contentment when that peace is laced with acrimony?

’Tis the perception of the beautiful, A fine extension of the faculties, Platonic, universal, wonderful, Drawn from the stars, and filtered through the skies, Without which life would be extremely dull.   Lord Byron

So what is life all about?  A collection of cars, rings or shoes?  What is beauty and who is allowed to possess it?   Can the simplest childhood memories be more profound than a hostile takeover of someone else’s business?   Can a breathtakingly beautiful woman be more beautiful than majestic snow-capped mountain?

Insurance save me moneyBaaabyLacey1

Well for me one of the most memorable moments was a huge letdown.   As a young boy coupons from box tops was a source of fond anticipation.  It was a toy model of a Studebaker.  But that disappointment was one of the more gorgeous moments in my life.   It gave me the knowledge that heartbreaks are going to happen as that toy never arrived.   I lived for the moment and did that a lot.

Studebaker

Sometimes our joys are more transitory but none-the-less equally profound.   In sixth grade,  we used to get milk breaks in the afternoon.   The milk was cold and sweet and the chocolate milk was Vitamin-D (Whole Milk).   Seemingly a trivial moment or moments could be so valuable but to a young kid in love with sixth grade,  those moments give me hope.

Our teacher was simply remarkable. Mr Earl Ader made school so much fun.   He was tall youngish man with a love for his students and nothing that smacked of anything controversial.  Kids fought to do classroom chores.   The Socratic Principle was amazingly on display and when it failed we remedied our issues with decorum and class.    We learned about adult life in a way that simulated the adult world.

SRA 1973

We raised chicks from eggs and actually saw the chicks hatch.  It was a hands on approach and I loved the SRA reading programs and progressed through so fast that I was reading in the top percentile.    I loved the reading and grammar exercises, a task that most kids hated.  The spelling tests were fun and I had a string of 100s that went from west to east.

During an autumn play and dance,   I was a pumpkin that me and my parents constructed from paper machete and metal hangers as a frame.   I was often called ‘Carrot Top’  though Carrots tops are green,  right?   But that night was awesome and a bit unsettling as every parent was wanting me to pose with their daughters as they took pictures.   I remember having a unilateral love affair with what turned out to be my first girlfriend., Cheryl.

One of the best things was when Mr. Ader decided to skip a lesson and play dodge ball in the gym,  the place of that same play and dance.   I had so much fun at that sport and doing this was one of my favorite times in my life.   I also got to be a hall monitor.   I was ruthless and sick with power.  Okay that part is not true but I did love the safety belt which I wore proudly.

wrest

In Junior High I was harassed in my first day of school and by the grace of God and Providence,  some big boy fired back at my tormentor and most young teens would not mess with him or me.    As a wrestler I stunned my coach,  teammates and other wrestlers by beating a state champion in my first match.    That night was magic for this shy boy when the coach made me the wrestler of the tournament.

I also made an unassisted triple play which was announced over the PA system and I had a mixture of pride and embarrassment and with the hope that the pretty girls would take note.  Sadly it was until my senior year when I got one of the beautiful girls and we went to the Senior Prom.  Long flowing black hair, a rather innocent beauty and my first hands-on girl and that was so cool.

Pinay

From losing my one baby David who weighed sixteen ounces and the kidnapping of my daughter by her mom,  I have had more good moments than those bad ones.  There was a time when I felt that I was unduly burdened but time rectified my apprehensions and salted them with a bit of that thing called reality.

Now I spend my time trying to help as many people as I can and the fruit of that labor is a loving regard for the intrinsic matter of self worth and the recognition that everyone is imbued with talents and love.

http://youtu.be/J9icvbdLEbEhow-prepare-humanitarian-mission-2

Autumn Whispers

I exploded into existence,  as cells merged,  divided and took form.   Two entities morphed into one in what would be me.  I became part of a yet larger world that I could not see a waxy,  bubbly and energetic orb wheeling across the borders.    It was as like a radio station where inside of my universe I heard the strain and the laughter from beyond.   The giggling sniggling breaths and then strings of symbols like a song wafted across the room and into my very essence.

I radiated outward inside my world and was stretching it to the limit.  The sense of uneasiness collared me as another change was moving my world.    Head first I plunged into a galaxy of lights and emotion.   The feelings cascaded from every corner and I too felt the sting of awareness and extremity.

My release was as a virtual shock as light and confusion mixed into a grainy panorama that was cold and now my tiny extremities began to flex,   as I nearly passed out from crying,

I met the personality that housed me,  first with joy and then as puzzlement as her pain signaled the start of life itself.  Me.

As any kid I would play.   Touching everything and experiencing consequences and learning to cope.    Strong emotions shot across the room and bouncing into the foyer where they simply passed like the sun’s.  The two monoliths separated with jagged edges as I grew up.  Towering infernos of irreconcilable differences.

I felt a strange urge, to do what those two did with me,  and it was kind of like those feelings to each other but I vowed never to get to that end.    I was wrong there too.   No easy instructions,  study and toil and consummate joy,  I had matriculated past fading masters with new ideas.   Thoughts that would be born into greatness in one of us.

But even as the power of the Universe slowly fades,  I began to fade.    Others fell too before me.   Like welched up hope cleaving to the sides of sand and then sailing into the aether,  I too surfed to a place unknown.   Quantum stairways without rails.   My steps were sure and my gait tenuous and strong.   The place of lights and mirrors established my footholds and I took a seat,  reverently.

As my life left as an Autumn leave,  I found harmony,  whatever the name.

What would you do?

Love is a BATTLEFIED,   by Pat Benetar

We have all tripped on a few landmines in our lives and then justified it as being human.   And there is nothing wrong with that,  except when you forgot about your own errors in judgment.   Do we need a remembrance to keep us straight or do we just pile on and let the chips fall where they may?

Now,  there are abusers out there and many are women!

{. Everyone quotes the statistics given by the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence: 1 in 4 women will be victims of domestic violence at some point in their lives, 1.3 million women are assaulted by their partner every year, 85% of domestic violence reported is against women. However, in a conflicting survey taken by the CDC in 2010, it was found that 40% of the victims of severe, physical domestic violence are men}

Okay ladies,  we need to gloss over that and for sure men do not want to seem like wimps but there is a time when someone is going to jail and if you deny that you were abused after being abused,  then it could be said that not all attacks are being reported! 

As usual the media loves to stir up the hornet’s nest and then leave a pile of manure in it’s wake.   And sadly,  the issues are buried as the next best story avails itself or some development where more accused surface and so the claims go on and on and on.

Men, as well as women, are victimized by violence. Sexual abuse and rape create substantial physical and psychological harm to male victims and perpetuate the cycle of violence. Men and boys are less likely to report the violence and seek services due to the following challenges: the stigma of being a male victim, the perceived failure to conform to the macho stereotype, the fear of not being believed, the denial of victim status, and the lack of support from society, family members, and friends.   This according to the National Coalition to Domestic Violence.

For more information or to get help, please call:  National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE   National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE  National Child Abuse Hotline at 1-800-4-A-CHILD

So my friends there you have it.   People like that idiot James Brown (the announcer) is just as guilty and pathetic as the NFL and other media who purport to be about women and knowingly commit this felonious rendition of so-called social justice!

Of course we expect an open mind when we fail.   Presumably because ours was not so bad,  not really.   You don’t know me!   So,  it goes.    Then a scandal breaks and the media feeds the feeding frenzy by storming off stage in a fit or rage and letting you know where they stand.

But there is a letter missing.   A letter that adds clarity and truthfulness and is a humbling word that is fast becoming a desiccated symbol of  a metaphorical and geopolitical hell .   Bereft of logic and reliant upon emotions,  the best and the brightest (self-aggrandizement at it’s worst) declare to us unwashed,  trailer trash adults as intellectual deadbeats.

I want to buy the vowel ‘E”.   And adding this one small letter is to completely reframe humanity  as  more ‘humane’.     Fed by a narcissistic media and spin-meisters our society resembles the Catholic Crusades or Islamic Jihad.     But the most pernicious fly-in-the-ointment is ‘Political Correctness’.   By using this tactic the vocabulary becomes constricted like the Orwellian language of INGSOC where more is less or less is more depending on the current translation of the words.  Or the King’s English?

To many,  the News is a TV dinner full of political preservatives and false calls to justice and action.   They are probably the most guilty,   the Ken-dolls waxing euphemistically at over their own cant and hyperbole.   As a person with a severe anxiety disorder,  finding calm and relative bliss can be a chore.   Now couple those obstacles that everyone else shares is beyond me.


What Tiger Woods did is none of your business aside from the smarmy details and since I do not care about such things,  it is of no interest to me and it shouldn’t to you.  Find a hobby,  pick your nose or find your Ouija Board.    Don’t tell me they deserve it because they are celebrities.  I am no fan of celebrities but I do not get carping on others what a lot of you have done.    Yes, some of you do these things or worse and that includes a few woman as well.

I have never understood the logic behind  that or worrying about Janay Rice unless you care about her  predicament and help her now that Ray Ray does not have a job.   That’s none of your concern either but a matter which involves their family and they have the right to privacy.   They did not sign a waiver to make a lot of money thus forfeiting their rights to a bunch of truncated vigilantes with severe boundary issues.

Ray did very wrong and needs to learn that he can never do such things and then gets .   To say it is all abuse of women smells of sticking your hooked nose and split tongue into matters which have no bearing on your own life.    And anyway,  who are beating these drums?  The feminists see a chance to intervene with the end game being only their opinions.   Cause and effect  but the underlying issues are painted over with peace signs and slogans.

The dogmas are so entrenched and accepted that it seems any aspersion cast upon Republicans is true and means you hate the poor,  favor the rich,   etc.    One of those bits of hyperbole would be that a person is greedy if they are a Young Republican.   This is a common depiction and is accepted.


In a related report by the Inquisitr, ESPN’s Hannah Storm was almost teary-eyed as she described how she had to tell her three daughters about the Ray Rice video and the circumstances behind it. Furthermore, she called out the NFL, saying that the organization needs to draw a hard line on NFL players when it comes to domestic violence. On the other side of the issue, Michael Vick claims everyone, including Ray Rice, deserves a second chance.
Read more at http://www.inquisitr.com/1483368/ray-rices-wife-janay-rice-lashes-out-at-nfl-commissioner-roger-goodell/#iYCeljxi1cKMWwCQ.99

People have to stop piling  on to people for sport or a good story.     Many players still support him and the fans who returned their jerseys did so,   because they can get a new one.   Hopefully their is a commissioner’s dunce cap for falling prey to the pressures of hypocritical genuflecting idiots.

My blogs are relatively obscure because I go out of my way not to as popular with the wrong crowd.   One individual said my lack of followers and comments invalidate my opinions!  Really?   That’s like throwing spaghetti against a wall,  some will stick.   Truth or Consequences?

Now let’s look at some things that go entirely not commented on.    Look at any young lady/woman who makes it big and you get the eventual playboy cover.   Many of them will be featured in a movie in short shorts or panties then are slain by some sociopath or horny alien.   The same media that harps on treating women right, but do you EVER see them doing anymore than that?  No, never!   The best you get is still all about them.  (The media).

Wait that guy hit a horse.   I should protest protesting is cool.

And as far as younger females go,  they are off-limits until they reach 18 (The Olsen Twins,  Molly Cyrus) and just about legal team becomes fair game.    The song Plush by Stone Temple Pilots depicts the sense of urgency to deflower purity and to scandalize,   so is it any mystery that the message gets out and it is largely media of some sort that perpetuates virginity is some kind of weirdness that MUST be slain.     The confusing scene of sexuality and violence seem to correlate into a seamless package of adolescent dynamite.

These same architects of depravity will deny any part of the malaise that helped to foment.   Of course they could blame us or blame Ray Rice for his stupidity but you sure want to bury him and his career.   The unintended consequence is family security but all of that is out the window now because liberal progressives are unrelenting and are mission first.   The party of tolerance is anything but.     The thing with Adrian Peterson is even more personal as his reputation will never recover!   This is NOT about football,  this is about cleaning your own attics and basements.

Some of the fervor does not match the rhetoric nor offers any solutions other than castrating all men and do away with all sports.   Yeah that’s you.   You have no suggestions outside scarlet letters and editorial denouncements.    Editorials means ever having to say you are sorry,  even though you might be.    James Brown of the NFL.   Do not condescend to me or other men.     Those bad guys (gals) deserve redemption, even if you do not agree.

Outside of Christmas and perhaps Thanksgiving they help the needy but do they do this behind the scenes or with a microphone and a fake smile?   No,  because this is a playground where actors and media dress up like us and pretend to be us.   Only,   we know it is a ruse.    Like an errant preacher,  police officer or a teacher,  they are all about chances.   Chances they did not give to others!    Their misfortune is not any sort of vindication sought,  but that their perceived holiness is not assailed.

Janay’s life was miserable at times but how could I know that unless she said so?  And those people who are falsely accused remember the gallows of judgment that is worn as white sheets endorsed by grand-standing politicians.      A chief of police with dozens if keyed up rabble-rousers with hopes of becoming the next big thing.

Erstwhile Barbies with faces meant for Halloween and the sad slow march into an old folks home where the deer and the antelope roam, with visions of scrapbooks and compliments lost in favor of denizen of new generations.   The pretty little womanlettes garnering the drools and slanders of a hungry set of ravenous coffee-stained dentures and a deer rack in your garage.   This is the backdrop to the great witch-hunts.    Only you you .

George W. Bush did not serve  a fake turkey to troops but that  Urban Myth was grudgingly admitted to.   With the media they do it with roaming bands of rich,  out of touch sociopaths with cameras and an agenda.   Stop the hate!!!

I love that speech and admire the kind words about President George W. ush and if for no other reason,  because we should respect the office and their decisions and stop trying to ruin each other.   Because in the end,  we all fall short and my attempt is to get people to  stop being ruthless to each other.   Diversity is gift.   Trust me on that.

Ray Rice had a very bad moment! But so have you! Some things never change.

“I won’t insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said.”
William F. Buckley Jr.

So now we have yet another controversy (Ray Rice) because men and women alike to ply controversy as along as it does not indict them or their perceptions about themselves.    A trio of cases has made the news and those ready to capitalize on them,  will.  (Ray Rice,  Adrian Peterson and Ferguson)   But like any person who benefits from these kind of cases are not about solutions.   These kinds want to feeled vindicated over something that has no relevance to their own lives.

They are just lazy haters with no plan.   The longer this goes on the less time there is to judge their own missteps and that includes me.    They have a belly full of self-righteous indignation and no one to blame.  Except for the vulnerable who they CLAIM to care about.

Those who wish to bash Janay Rice taking her longer view of this situation,  I want to slap!   Sure Ray Rice has done the unthinkable and their indeed needs to be consequences.   But the most strident critics are those with things to hide or some other agenda.     Or you have the guys who like to present a virtual dialogue,  accusing others of racism, sexism,  misogyny or whatever their minds decide.

These decisions are born of haste,  arrogance and the unfetter cacophony of a lynch mob.    Like the Salem Witch-hunts come in various arrays,  finding some niche in which a person can ruin another.   It is that simple.   People do because they can.  Just like those dysfunctional sex bombs on Jerry Springer.    What is most fascinating about that ‘trainwreck’ is how old flash me some boobs Springer is like a prurient slinky in Chinatown offering some sage advice to people who wantonly exploit each other.

Then are the raucous and indecorous sniggles at a woman objectifying herself by showing her boobs.    This diminishingly embarrassing behavior in encouraged.    Some of these very same people are cheering while teenagers are deemed sex offenders by showing their bodies to their friends and classmates who get an eyeful.    So who made you God?   You cannot even run your own life as the song so aptly put it.  Now, you wish to destroy Rice,  Peterson and Tiger Woods.   I can bet my life that some of you have done worse.

You talk about helping women?  You lie!  Aside trying to ruin the lives of the guilty the world has not changed one bit.    You are part of the problem as long as there is clamoring and no one is listening.  How else can anything ever get better?     Aside from the punitive actions and laws you offer no change in the patterns of abuse.

Hillary had one thing right,  that is literally does take a village to make things like bullying,  abuse and terrorism abate.   Not even a plan just demands of justice.   Taking on the victim like Ray’s wife and making it all about you!  You are complicit in bringing more pain to the world.   You have made the victim’s life harder whilst you munch on Doritos and beat your dog.   Yeah,  I know you did this!

or there is this!

Let’s take charge of our own and stop letting disinterested parties decide our fate and I mean us all.  We all go around not trying to effect change as practically as we can and bomb aspirin factories and tell everyone else how nice we are.   We are never as good or as bad as we want others to believe.

I have lied and have stolen things and have deceived and maybe they may or may not have been crimes but I do not go around giving everyone else a scarlet letter or accuse of them of being a witch,  child molester or a serial cheater of some kind.

It’s like the show (movie)  ‘Mean Girls’.  A revealing look at the innate nature of us all and even those who we thought were incapable of such things.

I like ‘House’.   Does that make me an abuser or a victim?    Does calling a peaceful church goer affect you?   And why do you think anyone owes YOU an apology?   Everybody hurts some times.

It is hard enough to make it in this life without lighting another fire and while we may not have this particular tragedy over our heads we can assure others than there are those who really do care.

Cops and Gumdrops – Stars and Stripes

What a trifling minion of gadflies,   They flash a badge bark an order and expect respect.    Sheriff Andy Taylor and fellow crime fighter, Barney?   Oh,  I wish.   Now Barney is Robocop with a stun gun and a can of mace.   If the cameras are not rolling or have been confiscated and disposed of,  the evidence flitters away like October leaves cascading down their erstwhile perches.

This were images and the sense of the times.   Far be it for most cops to even act condescendingly towards a ‘suspect’.  You know that little known and respected caveat named ‘rights’ and ‘respect’.  What happened?   Have the Veteran’s respect by common people stole a bit of their glory?

Remember that picture when you body slam and 88 year old man who fought for pansy-assed self.   You act like Barney with malice.  You screw with adults aged 18-20 and you know better.    Probably some sexual arousal with you toy around with people (young adults) have been labeled as kids because now they are your kids and you cannot reconcile your own mortality,  so you pin suspects with your knee to their skull and they die.    And of course with have damage control and outright lies being perpetrated on unsuspecting people and why?   Do you have a set of handcuffs attached to a wall placard?   Do you need to terrorize,  never-mind the damage you do. Huh?

Come now,  any of you apologists justify it?   Cops need to say;   “Sir,  will you please sit?  84 and 95 years old and this is not too mention the abuse of blacks in their community because not all are gang bangers!

Cops need Personal Reliability Assessments and a lawyer and a media type following around and acting as a mediator to prevent this kind of abuse.     It is really heartbreaking that more and more people distrust cop and it takes just incident like these or bashing the girl into a cement bench in a cop station or strip searching a female without cause by  MEN And Women!!!

If  you don’t believe,  check out Youtube where officers ruin lives because they can.

 

One veteran died at the hands of an officer,  another innocent man shot in bed 16 times.   Cops need to lose this hate and start being respectful.  Or this nation is in big trouble.

 

 

Is it any wonder why people are getting upset.   They pick on the weak,  the elderly and girls.    They should have the 14 year old go.   They have options but they use excessive force.

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=one+tin+solider&FORM=VIRE3#view=detail&mid=D05A6C817D8C1DA261EED05A6C817D8C1DA261EE

 

So all you dicks who hurt innocent people pox on you.   If your families were treated this way you would have hate for those individuals..

 

 

Tic Tac Dough – They’re tryin to Build a Prison

 

I went a System of a Down Concert a few years ago.    Their music is right in many ways and on many issues.    For example,  they had a song called,  The Prison Song!   Not only was the music and program awesome,  but the song became personal.

At the end of the event as people were exiting a few decided to climb over railings and beat the crowd out of the Sun Dome.   But one of the police/guards,  whatever they call them decided to say get down or they would be arrested!   These young people need not to be threatened but they were!

Being a renown smart-ass  I  shouted,  “They’re trying to build a prison!!!”.    Hails of laughter swept through the crowd as a response to the scene and to the police’s actions against the students.

 

 

I was watching the News and saw the many dirty conditions in Africa and the threat that poverty has become generational in so many places.     Africa, who lives there and do they have faces?  The easy answer is,  YES!

Now what happens to Gwyneth Paltrow when there is another crash in the stock market?  Like one day she will  be that actress who did not garner many fans and her natural beauty fades?   There is so much hunger and poverty in the world and yet she looks down on others?

Too many people in Hollywood find their best gucci shoes and sunglasses to mask the ugliness in their hearts.  Sad too,  because many people look up to that wandering cesspool of self-righteousness robots until they too become frail and then want to have someone to care. I would but then again only because she is in need.

Are we better than these,  Gwyneth?     Could you tell her that her children do matter?  Do they need to make 100,000 dollars per year and will cry over the graves of the starving,  sick and homeless victim of circumstances?

Go to work as a volunteer as a support group facilitator.    That nation also suffers this damnable Ebola breakout.    And the headline below:

Ebola cases appear in DR Congo; doctor given promising drug dies in Liberia

http://www.cnn.com/2014/08/25/world/africa/ebola-outbreak/

 

And these people tell us how it is?    And sports are no better!

And just so true.   I have a seizure disorder and I know how it feels to be a soup line,  sleeping in my car with a cat.    I know of two more veterans,  one who has terminal cancer and the other a 78 year old who car is full of “Stuff” and he goes to places where he can to get out of heat or cold,  such as the case may be.    I have an  entrepreneurial idea that I plan to share to those woe begotten cardboard box souls.

Cops showed him,   didn’t they?

Warring with virtual corpses in a mad dash to nowhere and regardless of petty crimes,  we acquiesce and even endorse their actions against the unfortunate.   There are people who have Asphasia,   tri-geminal neuralgia (tic douloulreux ).   Many are bi-polar,   poorly educated and not too cogent.   Cops know not enough to attend them properly but rather do what you see above.

Bill Maher: “This country is becoming a police state, it is very troubling to me”

 

 

Mediating Reality and Politics.

One of the more frustrating aspects of dealing with people is that they read a book on let’s say, ‘Physics’.   They read just enough to have an opinion and then can’t be bothered.   In essence, that becomes their politics.   They fancy their notions but do not engage with them.

The first principle is that you must not fool yourself and you are the easiest person to fool.

Science itself is still in it’s veritable infancy.  The things we will know later will dwarf us in the here and now.   And the climate change debate will crystalize.    Not an answer driven by political correctness but we will have done ‘real due-diligence’.   Not throwing talking points as real science.

People want everything gift-wrapped into tight little packages that are easy to explain but when you get beneath the dogma, there is nothing but that dogma.   Logically then or rather illogically they go back to their default position as with the topic of ‘Climate Change’.    They refer back to the experts,  whatever that might be.   Many of these same people then refer to the religious as deferring to fairy tales.

Stephen Hawking has the Higgs-Boson to fall back on and considering the fact that he has beaten the odds,  doesn’t see the irony.  As if the fact that my friend died after a year after he was diagnosed.   He too,  had ALS.    The difference being that he was a professing Christian while the former must imagine some last minute intervention or like many unbelievers that his mass will not destroyed.  I  guess.

If I left the world being the most dissipated man of all time,  and did not feel the slightest compunction at being a  jerk,  then maybe I too could go on without asking the biggest question…..why?  Why in my honest evaluation of myself,  I could not even hint at being some kind of saint or above it all.

So maybe we fancy ourselves to be many things.   Perhaps an Opera Star, a Poet or maybe we were born to be a leaf.  One that has fallen during Autumn who is slated for a burn barrel of the compost pile.   We are even less than the worst of miscreants,  who we should assume ourselves to be.   This is not self-flagellation but simple perspective.   The nascent rise of real science can upset a lot of realities.   But is that Immutable Perfect Being really interested in “our take”?    And would it necessarily disprove anything of the nature of God?

This diagram shows changes in the rate of expansion since the Big Bang. The shallower the curve, the faster the expansion rate. There's a notable change in the curve around 7.5 billion years ago, when astronomers think a mysterious, dark force caused objects to fly apart at a faster rate. NASA/STSci/Ann Feild

At that point,  were we even cognizant of our plight relative to people,  what then?

 

Life is more than elaborate set of rules but the worst part of that is maybe no one really cares who good you think you are,  much less than a sentient being of unimaginable power.  The fact that such a being would ever even care is worthy of our consideration.

Ultimately God makes his choice and is the only choice ever truly made by anyone or anything.  God is not like us,  he would be in all ways better and once we get that if we were a plot of clay,  he could dash that hardened clay against the wall and it would be fair.


That we are sentient, ought to reveal something very important about us and even more about God.   In the final analysis God is so fair,  that he would consider all of our arguments and is the perfect parent because unlike us,  he is truly impartial.  Those conferred with greater gifts now,  are not among the elite in heaven, but those with a humble heart,  who imagines humbly to be so unworthy of him.

Conversely we are antithesis of modesty and our self-aggrandizement is really evident we get so mired into those shows like ‘American Idol’ and that is just one program that intimates that someone is going to find us and see how wonderful we are.    Afterall everyone has some measure of greatness.   Really?  How about those who just CANNOT sing or act or paint a picture?

There has to be a special for them!   And why again?  This kind of mentality is part of the infantilism of the world today.  A 20 year old woman (many called her a girl) remonstrated that her life was miserable because her parents embarrassed her when she was 10.   The crime?   Her parents made her a Halloween costume and that poor girl was traumatized.  Yeah I bet a lot of people would love to trade places.

That person who you and I shrugged off.   That person we may have done charity for with an air of insolent disregard,  perhaps imagining that we are better and he or she is there by choice.   But as I see it, we can be that little boy or girl,  combing through sewage and refuse hoping to eat that.   Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs at play here my friends.

 

Not dogmas,  not same-sex marriage or even that man/woman arrangement.   Today we confer some kind of special birthright based on sexual proclivity,  racial orientation or our beliefs in some obscure frog or farflung religion.

 

It is one thing to rebel against injustice because there is some intrinsic value in that.   However,  a lot of this is just rhetoric.

Pay a dime to a cause and sleep well at night.   Is that going to be our legacy?  Do we ‘really’  lose sleep over all this terrible stuff in the world?

 

We more than most rich people get it.   We are more likely to suffer more substantially than billionaires and because of that we can more relate to the hurting.  But our answer basically mirrors the tax write-offs of the uber rich.   So maybe we are not so swell afterall.

The good message and point here is that someone does care but to know him we have to set aside all presumption.   We have to look at ourselves being the one hurting and really understand our own inherent leanings towards wrong.   I am NOT exempting myself from this either.   We all must do apart from hyperbole and most of all,  do it not for accolades or some measure of self-satisfaction.   Let the words silently minister to the hurting.

 

 

There is one thing that I want to do today and that is to ask those who hear to respond.   You will know question to that answer and you will find harmony and perfection.

 

 

 

 

 

Gate Keepers

Gate Keepers

As we know more about a lot, we master nothing.    We toil and strive and then concede,  ultimately wallowing in the muck and mire of our own personal experiences.   We assume we are patently original,  suspiciously aware of our hypocrisy.    We claim we never lie and if we do then we do.

Sometimes in our youth,  we wish to cheat death or get as close as we can to that.  Impressing others of our bravado and recounting our glory years.    Like the song, ‘Those Were the Days My friend,   we thought they’d never end,   we sing and dance forever and a day.   We live the life we choose,  we fight and never lose,  those were the days,  oh yes, those were the days.’

There was a time in our life, when we romanticized love,  as if we were Romeo and Juliet,  or we might be Bonnie and Clyde.   We would make love as no one else could.   Like a Muse in a Xanadu,  we find our own reality,  as we move gracefully together.

But then something happened.  The Yellow brick road began to crumble and the house landed upon our love.   With a resounding thump and a crash of dishes,  our dreams faded like a late show re-run.

Those songs that inspired us,  were now a requiem,  sad and haunting.   Soon bitterness impaled our hearts and they become like stone.    And instead of skipping flat stones across a florid lake.

Florid Lake

So maybe we find a church ,   with a choir and we sing staid old songs,  as lifeless as a still-born dream.  We are reverent and judging,  but we judge others for their specks,  while redwoods roam in our eyes.

We can’t wait to leave and try to depart as soon as we can and we claim a god of opportunity to an end with no life,  like that old abandoned church.

We hear a knock from above,  wistful vapors of the unseen but our spirit consists of seeing images in an office building and tying meaning to a ship that never comes back.

It need not end this way.   In spite of unrequited love snatching us too early.  the knocks push upon us harder and the message is clear and unwavering.  Though all around are the indignant,  honest, godly church going people who flick ashes upon others.

We cannot find what we assumed was there until our hearts melt for the needs of forgiveness of our own missteps.   The harrowing nightmares we perpetrated on others,   while claiming some kind of victim-hood.

When we realize that we are there,  we will know we have arrived.   Our pretentions are like tumbleweeds drifting on a dusty road.   Yet in that abyss of faith,   we find ourselves trembling but more free.

Remember good is never good enough and if it will be,  it definitely be.  with no further side-slips on that precarious path.

 

A w0men

I am a busted clock in a busy airport.   A misfit with lucrative emotions and a mood ring made of platinum.  What does that have to do with anything?  Are you writing a book?  Look I just stopped at the behest of the Stone Temple Pilots and agree that they were just trying to smell her;   I would probably do the same only I would be the object of your desire.   I CAN rub sticks together and ignite passion.   I feed off wantonness and distress.    And I have a big appetite.

I am there when you cagily implore your victims to relent.   Then by rationalism exploit your very weaknesses and appeal to your zen.    Making Girl Scout cookies from play doh..  With that are myriad possibilities with a little fermentation and a whole and the shapes of things to come.   I will take credit for the good and blame you for the bad.   Yeah I will steal your hanging chads.   I will take those bits of contraband and let it disappear by my hand.

In my fish bowl are bubbles.   They signal life and resiliency buoyed by contemplation and a silent fomentation of our baser imaginations.   I am a double helix with horns.   A transient being breathing gold dust and harboring jaded souls.    I convince to bomb innocent people and then promise you a hit as long as you pay taxes and do as I say.

Don’t worry about watching your words because I’ve heard it all before that every hallways have a mysterious door.   Portals of evanesced fury languish in the heart and I cull resentment and foment chaos.

I am a product of my environment as the excuse often goes.    A person above me who wants to see me fail.   They are like a decaying frost,  a hydra with ethereal dreams and a constipated heart.