tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85678248719965303252024-03-08T05:50:53.310-05:00Brain SiloBelieving and knowing are not mutually exclusive, but they are not the same...Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-22345560085695366432018-02-04T11:33:00.000-05:002018-02-04T11:35:05.316-05:00The Specialest?The relationship between professional athletes and their fans has changed a great deal over the decades. As recently as forty years ago, and maybe more recently in some cases, it was not at all uncommon for Philadelphia Eagles players to work off-season jobs in the Philly area. They'd sell cars, or construction equipment, or men's wear, to varying degrees of success, and the companies they worked for would relish the clientele the hired fame brought through the doors. And in the process, the players were all the more integrated into the community that rooted for them so ardently on Fall and Winter Sundays.<br />
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It's unnecessary to speak at length to what the team, and its successes and failures, meant to the Eagles fan base. Suffice to say, hundreds of thousands of avid fanatics based the outlook of their Monday mornings on what the Eagles did the day before. But by Tuesday, those same fans were wiping the slate clean and looking forward to the next game with at least a glimmer of hope, chatting optimistically about the ways to come out on top this time, even if in the next breath they were deriding coaches like Joe Kuharich and Ed Khayat, or quarterbacks like Pete Liske and and Johns Reaves.<br />
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But there's a big difference today. How many players, right down to the 53rd man on the roster, are working second jobs in the Philadelphia area? Sure, you see them on ads city-wide, and for the biggest stars, nationally. And yes, there's a great deal of community involvement through various organizations, but even that is a small drop in time, as the players today have to work well past a forty hour week year round in order to stay in condition and remain mentally and emotionally prepared for the coming season.<br />
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The fact is, it can at times be pretty tough for Average Joe Philly to relate personally to a multi-millionaire just because he's wearing an Eagles jersey. Often, because of the money they make, the players are under an intensely invasive microscope, with the fans critiquing every play, and often to the negative, made worse by the perception that someone pulling down that kind of scratch shouldn't be making those kinds of mistakes. We cheer with reckless abandon their successes, but we revile them for their failures. We've always taken poor performances personally, but it's at a new level today, because how dare Moneybags blow that coverage or fail to haul in that pass?<br />
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So here's my point, and this is in no way a dig at those fans who celebrated so deliriously in 1960, or suffered ignominiously through some of the worst seasons the NFL has offered over the last fifty-odd years: This Eagles team is at least as special to the fans, and maybe more so, as any in the past. The players have to be the kind of people we want to root for, 24/7, because the media doesn't miss a thing anymore. In fact, they have to be the men both on and off the field that, despite their hefty pay days, can still inspire a relationship with fans from a wide but bottom-heavy socio-economic spectrum. Yes, the coaching staff has a role in the overall image, but in the end, it's all about the players.<br />
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I don't know if Carson Wentz sees the Eagles and the fans as anything more than a splendid payday waiting to happen. I'm not sure if Fletcher Cox cares one whit about Philadelphia beyond his role on the football team. I can't say if Malcom Jenkins is truly and deeply invested in the city and its football fans. But even if they don't (which I highly doubt) they've done a fabulous job of making us all believe they are as fully sold on us as we are on them.<br />
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I believe they care as much as we do. And I believe that at least the majority of them understand what this game means to the fans and the city. And they are thankful and happy to have us along for the ride. They have to work harder than ever to keep us dedicated and rabid. They've done that.<br />
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For that reason- and the old timers can shoot me if they must- this just might be the most special team this city has seen since Super Bowl became a thing. Win or lose, they've captured our hearts.<br />
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But if they want to own those hearts forever?<br />
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Win.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-711114664719042232015-07-08T11:51:00.001-04:002015-07-08T11:55:57.979-04:00Stop. Just, stop. There's a disturbing trend in our country, one that thankfully exposes much hypocrisy, but also shamefully highlights at least as much ignorance and bigotry. It's the increasingly more common fact that so many American citizens profess to revere and stand by the U.S. Constitution, while using it as so much toilet paper whenever it clearly dictates against personal preference, or when it's interpreted by the highest court in the land, The Supreme Court of the U.S., to say something that gets one's panties in a sweaty bunch.<br />
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I'm going to spare you an in-depth analysis of the myriad topics and rulings that have, over the last several months, resulted in this post. Instead, I'm just going to make some points, as briefly as my admittedly excessive verbosity will allow, and then step away from the keyboard:<br />
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1) If you think a state government should fly, or if you choose to fly, a flag that has come to represent a cadre of states that openly and violently committed treason in order to maintain the status quo regarding the ownership of and commerce in human beings utilized to perform uncompensated labor under dire conditions of imprisonment and torture, you love neither the Constitution nor the United States of America.<br />
2) If you feel that your religious beliefs should be used as any sort of template for public education, civil rights laws, or election funding, you are operating under a gross misinterpretation of at least a very crucial part of the U.S. Constitution.<br />
3) If you believe that "freedom of speech" means that you are permitted to say anything you damned well please, no matter the lack of veracity or irrationality of said speech, and that having done so, no private person or business can do anything to hold you accountable, via restriction of interaction or criticism, for what you've said, then once again, there's an important part of the Constitution you simply do not grasp, and you'd be well served to consult someone who does understand so that they can explain it to you, thereby having yourself set at least somewhat straighter.<br />
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So please, if only for as long as this post sticks in your memory, stop with the fallacious cries of censorship, restriction of rights, reverse-racism, persecution, or whatever other imagined crimes your pathetic little martyr complex has you feeling victim to at the moment. You're wrong, and you're whining more than an adult should.
Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-86598396940791608122011-06-29T19:17:00.001-04:002011-06-29T19:17:32.944-04:00Governor Christie Under Investigation?<p> </p> <p>If not now, when?</p> <p>That’s what many people are wondering in the face of New Jersey Governor Chris Christie’s continued refusals to announce himself a 2012 Presidential candidate. </p> <p>Granted, his approval ratings in-state are inching steadily downward, no doubt a result of NJ residents’ intimacy with his various lies and hypocrisies. But nationally, he could find himself at the top of a heap of thin, deeply flawed GOP candidates. And even in the scathing glare of the national spotlight, Christie could take a page from Palin’s playbook and simply lie, lie, and lie again until he got the necessary number of fools and sheep to believe him. </p> <p>So why has he not declared?</p> <p>Well, perhaps there’s something going on, behind the scenes, that would not survive such invasive scrutiny. </p> <p>It seems there are rumors afloat all about Trenton, as well as various other satellite dens of power, that there is an investigation afoot. These rumors speak of federal involvement, targeting Christie, and others. </p> <p>Now, the charges rumored to be investigated number as many as the rumors themselves. Likewise, other parties rumored to be in play are varied and plentiful. </p> <p>Granted, these are just rumors at this point, but would Christie likely decide to run for president if they were true? The answer to that would be a resounding no. He could survive his deceptions and misdeeds if he said and did just the right things. But a federal investigation- for anything, really- would torpedo his candidacy instantly and render him damaged goods for the future as well. </p> <p>Oh, and did I mention these are just rumors?</p> <p>But there’s something for all of us to think about. Yes, there are rumors now, and that’s all they are at this point. Either there is an investigation ramping up, or there isn’t. But none of us know one way or the other, not yet anyway. </p> <p>So there are just rumors. And so often, rumors end up being so much hot air. </p> <p>But then there are the rumors that accurately presage the future. </p> <p>Stay tuned. </p> Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-52235800899035257742011-05-21T12:11:00.001-04:002011-05-21T12:11:38.073-04:00Be Sure to Insure<p> </p> <p>Auto insurance is a fact of life in our country. Currently, only one state does not require some form or another of insurance for automobiles, New Hampshire, and they require insurance in cases of some past infractions. As well, a resident will have driving privileges revoked in the event of an accident that involves uncompensated costs. Wisconsin requires either insurance, a $60,000 deposit with the DOT, or a bond filed with the same department. California follows a similar procedure, with the deposit or bond amount at $30,000. <br /></p> <p>And why is insurance mandated? It’s pretty simple, really. It’s to eliminate unpaid costs that would eventually be passed on to the taxpayers, via state and federal funds supplied by taxes, as well as state and federal fees and surcharges.</p> <p>Strangely, or not, the Teabaggers and other self-appointed conservative enforcers have little to say about this form of mandated insurance. Perhaps the fact that the insurance saves billions of dollars in uncompensated costs has something to do with the silence. </p> <p>And yet, they can’t seem to follow the same sort of logic when it comes to mandated healthcare. </p> <p>Uninsured medical costs topped $200 billion last year, and have been over $100 billion since 2000. Of those costs, fully a third are ultimately uncompensated. The primary source of funding for those uncompensated costs are the federal, state, and local governments, or more accurately, the taxpayers. This pays 85% of the payment shortfall, to the tune of over $56 billion dollars last year. </p> <p>And of course what cannot be calculated monetarily is the insufficient or nonexistent care for those who carry no insurance and either get subpar treatment, or forego it altogether. </p> <p>So maybe it’s not about the money. Maybe it’s about who proposes the healthcare plan. After all, Mitt Romney got it through in Massachusetts, and contrary to what many talking heads insist, the plan actually has worked quite well. But then, Romney looks like the average ultra-con, and our President does not. </p> Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-58701265571079585322011-05-19T10:07:00.001-04:002011-05-19T10:07:40.434-04:00The End is Nigh!<p> </p> <p>Are you ready for some rapture?</p> <p>Yes, it is being predicted, and not just by the usual evangelical lunatic fringe, that the rapture will occur this Saturday, May 21. Of course, the rapture is that special time when “the dead in Christ” will rise up out of the earth and ascend to heaven to be with god and his son. Then, shortly after the corpses have gone, those who are alive and saved will follow upward. This will leave those of us who are heathens, pagans, heretics, or generally just non-Christian , here upon the earth to suffer five months of the end times. It will be a period of hellfire and brimstone and consummate suffering, culminating with the actual end of our existence on October 21, also of this year. </p> <p>This cataclysmic event is not to be confused with the Mayan doomsday scheduled for December 21, 2012. But the number 21 does seem to be significant, doesn’t it? Wonder why…</p> <p>Anyway, the speciousness of the prediction aside, something like this will  break us up into three basic groups. </p> <p>First, we have the True Believers, the evangelicals and devout, as well as the paranoid and panicky who are getting serious now with this impending End. They’ve bought into the scenario, and are going to spend Saturday waiting to be swept up into the sky. Though, only after the billions who are already dead make their ethereal trip, of course. I don’t know how they’ll spend their days. Maybe there will be church gatherings and Bible readings and euphoric celebrations. But they will be chaste and orderly. </p> <p>Second, we have those who believe but just don’t care. As well, there will be a few non-believers who use this as an excuse to act out. The bottom line is, this group will become disorderly, riotous, larcenous, violent, and generally felonious. They will see themselves as unsaved, unworthy, and as usual, untouched by earthly guidelines of good sense and good taste. And they figure if they’re going to hell, why not get their money’s worth before the journey? Thank fully, we can expect this segment to be a distinct minority. </p> <p>Third, we have those who simply do not believe but are every bit as good and decent as the most devout believer, along with those who are Christians but don’t cotton to this apocalyptic nonsense. These people will go about their business on Saturday as they would during any other weekend, happy to be free of work, seeing to chores and kids and recreation. Maybe some of those who are teetering, or strongly curious, will identify a true believer and keep an eye on them, to see if they end up going POOF and leave a vapor trail heading into the sky. But overall, they will live their lives, obey the law, be honest and forthright, be loving and caring, and shake their heads at all the silliness they see around them. </p> <p>Into which group do you fit?</p> <p>Me?</p> <p>Put it like this: I’ll see you all on Sunday </p> Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-29601757401070778872011-05-16T16:14:00.002-04:002015-07-08T09:27:06.804-04:00Games People Play<p> </p> <p>Over two decades ago, Osama bin Laden decided he was going to take down the Great Satan, aka, The United States. Despite what is in retrospect some pretty inept security, it took him and Al Qaeda until September 11, 2001 to make the big splash they’d been working toward. His goals were based on some central tenets: he needed to morally confuse and befuddle America, he had to bankrupt the American economy, and he wanted to diminish America in the eyes of the rest of the world. </p> <p>Now that bin Laden has taken  a bullet to the eye courtesy of Navy Seal Team Six, it’s become popular to sit back and gloat about how America has won it’s personal battle with ObL. You just know he died scared, wishing for a few more moments before his brain was turned into a gray and red slurry, don’t you?  But things aren’t really as rosy as all that. And while bin Laden certainly cannot take credit for all our continuing ills, they’re no less real for that fact. </p> <p>Consider the moral aspect. </p> <p>While I am not judging, America greeted the demise of bin Laden as though Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck just exploded a world-killing meteor. We displayed a bloodlust, perhaps justifiably, but one that parallels that shown by many of the fanatics who oppose us so vehemently. Fat talking-heads gripe that Obama won’t show pictures of bin Laden postmortem, then complain that talking about his porn stash compromises national security. Senators decry a president’s adulterous inclinations just hours after getting oral sex in the back of their cars from mistresses. And even the most religiously zealous among us go blind to the WWJD billboards and cheer torture, revenge killings, and covert assassinations. </p> <p>Now look at the economy. </p> <p>We were already on a careening  crash-track before bin Laden ever signed off on the 9/11 attacks. Unfettered, and unregulated, greed on Wall Street led to exotic mortgage instruments and a runaway real estate bubble that doomed the economy the day the first NINJA loan was funded. We deemed many companies “too big to fail” and handed them billions of dollars to stay afloat. We sank over $3 trillion into a “war” in Iraq that was misguided, based as much on a son’s attempt to validate his daddy’s past aggressions as it was on a desire to strike back at an Axis of Evil. We continue to bankroll a similar debacle in Afghanistan, the mountainous Killer Of Empires. And we’ve forked over more than $11 billion to Pakistan alone in the name of fighting terrorism. Pakistan, of course, has done little toward that end, in fact harboring bin Laden for several years, and has instead used the billions to build hundreds of nuclear warheads to likely one day strike at India, bringing on a very real slice of Armageddon. Oh, and to keep things interesting, we continue to subsidize oil companies with billions as they record record revenue and profits perfectly well on their own. </p> <p>And how do we look to the rest of the world?</p> <p>This is certainly subjective. We will always have our fans, and our detractors. For every England, there’s a France (Ungrateful bastards, right?), and so on. More importantly, though, how do we compare with the rest of the world? Well, we hold our own in racism, but that could be considered subjective as well. So let’s consider metrics such as life expectancy, infant mortality, literacy, and math comprehension. We crack the top ten in one of those, life expectancy, and fall woefully short in the others. Infant mortality comes as little real surprise, as we’ve never given much more than lip service to those not yet of voting age. But it still speaks pretty poorly of us. And the other two, based on our obscene failures in education, result from two fundamental miscalculations. First, we can’t seem to understand that it <strong>is </strong>possible to correlate one fewer $4o0 ball peen hammers bought by the Pentagon to ten additional textbooks given to our schools. Second, in the wake of leaving our economy in the hands of those who had the highest incentive to abuse it, we’ve decided to make public services, including education, the illogical scapegoats, gutting funding and guaranteeing that we won’t be reading or adding numbers any more effectively in the near future. </p> <p>American companies hire almost 80% of their technical professionals from other countries because, in the words of one staffing chief, “they’re smarter.” Since 2001, we’ve increased the anti-terrorism bureaucracy to the tune of three whole Pentagons worth of new office space.  And we kill, abuse, marginalize, and hate people different than us, all while holding some holy book that, at least in some parts, tells us that’s exactly what we shouldn’t do. And as one final stake in the heart, Conan The Barbarian is divorcing his Kennedy squeeze. </p> <p>So no question, there’s no way you could say bin Laden was a winner in the end. But pending further review, it’s not clear what we’re winning, either. </p>Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-80594489957472575312011-05-14T08:29:00.002-04:002015-07-08T09:39:37.220-04:00Liar, Bully, Hypocrite…What Else?<p> </p> <p>New Jersey Governor Chris Christie is many things, most of which, it seems, aren’t especially admirable. </p> <p>He said he was in touch while in Florida during last December’s snowstorm. He said public-sector unions regularly pressure the state legislature for things they fail to win through contract negotiations. He professed to be a Trenton “outsider.” He attempted to explain why the state lost out on $400 million in federal education funds. He claimed to balance the state budget without raising taxes.  And in every case, he was less than truthful. So Christie is a liar. </p> <p>When presented with his blatant falsehoods, he and his likeminded staff bombastically cry foul, claiming hidden agendas, hair-splitting, and misrepresentation. He attempts to demonize police officers, firefighters, and teachers to all who will listen. So Christie is a bully. </p> <p>During his campaign to become governor, and early in his term, he berated past officeholders for shortsightedly mortgaging the state’s future by borrowing so far down the line. Since then, he’s floated over $10 billion in longterm bonds, all set to come due after his term will be completed, and some due even after a possible second term (shudder!) is past. So Christie is a hypocrite. </p> <p>So what’s next? Well, recently Christie was asked about his views on evolution and creationism. His response boiled down to “It’s none of your business.” Well, I beg to differ. </p> <p>The governor has the ability to present a bill to the state legislature. It generally carries considerable weight, and with a sympathetic legislature, can be pushed through rather quickly. And therein lies a very real and frightening problem. </p> <p>Just look what the neo-neanderthal Bobby Jindal has done in Louisiana with a bill that allows teachers to teach creationism in science class. Elsewhere, in Texas, Missouri, Oklahoma, Tennessee, and Kentucky, along with other states, loosely-veiled policies allegedly allowing free discourse on the subject instead permit creationism to be presented as science. </p> <p>Let’s understand this first. Evolution is science. It is a theory, just like gravity, and only the misunderstanding or deliberate ignorance of the definition of a scientific theory can attempt to render it as less than fact. And in some ways, we understand evolution more clearly than gravity, Yet, who is questioning the veracity of gravity?</p> <p>We’ve conjured up countless equations that will accurately predict the effects of gravity, but we still can’t say exactly what it is. Is it some sort of magnetism, or curvatures in space time, or invisible rubber bands, all acting in step with our mathematical proofs? On the other hand, we’ve identified many of the drivers behind and influences on evolution. From top to bottom, there are fewer gaps in our knowledge of evolution. So why aren’t more “believers” trying to cram a god into the gaps in gravity theory?</p> <p>Now it’s time to circle back around. Evolution is science. Creationism is mythology. Evolution is to be taught in science class. Creationism is not, no more than civics or English Lit or any other subject should, or should not, be. Heck, you can start a class on world religions or mythology or theological philosophy, and talk about creationism till the cows come home, but at no time should it be elevated to the status of science. And science class is no place to point to the gaps in the total understanding of evolution and shout “Goddidit!”</p> <p>So, Christie, when someone asks you your views on evolution and creationism, it <strong>is </strong>our business. You have the power to earnestly attempt to thrust New Jersey back into an anti-intellectual Dark Age. Teabaggers and other ultra-con neo-fascists would certainly love such an attack on reason, logic, and rational thought, but this is New Jersey, not Louisiana or Texas. So come clean and either relieve those of us who actually think, or give face to one of our basest fears. </p> <p>You’re already a Liar, Bully, and Hypocrite. Now enquiring minds want to know: Are you a Moron as well?</p>Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-62929423920560903462011-05-12T17:43:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:48:04.702-04:00‘Tis the Summer of Our Discontent…<p> </p> <p>So gas prices are playing leap-frog with the $4.00 per gallon mark, one week over, one week under, though at least in New Jersey it seems to spend more time under than over. Still, we’re hearing doomsday predictions of $5.00 prices coming our way, perhaps right in time for the grand summer gas-guzzling extravaganza kicking off Memorial Day weekend. </p> <p>And of course this means a corresponding increase in costs for anything touched along its given way by petroleum, which happens to be just about everything. Food, power, service industries, manufacturing; they’re all accordingly corrupted and priced in part by oil. </p> <p>And yet, strangely, while we’re paying an absolute premium for our premium, oil companies are raking in record profits. No, we’re not talking about gross, but net numbers here. But why is this, since you would think that the rising prices must be coming from rising costs closer to the source? Surely there’s a shortage, or concern about stability in some oil-rich part of the world, or some sort of disaster that would seriously impact production, right?</p> <p>Wrong. OPEC says there is no shortage, and in fact, there is even a surplus at this time. Other oil-producing countries and consortiums are expressing the same sentiment. And sure, the geopolitical stability in most regions is, as usual, tenuous, but actually no more so than at most other randomly selected times in the past when gas prices were a whole lot lower. And unquestionably, the Gulf debacle of last year is wreaking havoc still on fishing in the effected areas, despite our pitifully short attention spans shuffling this disaster to some fog-sheathed back-burner. But the economic aftershock on oil prices should now be a pebble’s ripple in the sea. </p> <p>So this means the oil companies are gouging. And while all the Randian idealists are trumpeting Free Market Or Die, we’ve never operated under any sort of true, pure capitalism. There has always been governmental involvement in the country’s economy. Ask the banks borrowing short term at insanely low interest rates. Ask Microsoft, Bell, or major league sports. The government has always had a hand in what goes on with our dollars and cents. What’s varied over the years is the degree of hands-on treatment. </p> <p>This country has been struggling to recover from one of its worst economic disruptions. There’s been no definitive cure to the illness, but some of the symptoms finally appear to be improving. There is hope for the first time in some time. </p> <p>Cry all you want, you ultra-con naïfs, but if there has ever been a perfectly valid reason for the government to investigate an industry, the targets would be oil companies, and the time would be now. </p> Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-63397098448455871782011-05-11T16:07:00.001-04:002011-05-11T16:07:25.928-04:00Chillax…<p> </p> <p>They say stress can kill you, and with what stress seems to have heaped upon me recently, I don’t find that hard to believe. </p> <p>One day you figure that stress is supposed to feel like a set of eagle talons clamped onto your neck and shoulders, and the next you’re passing out at work, ending up in the hospital, and within 24 hours being told that you have an irregular heartbeat, high blood pressure, and high blood sugar. No, sir, you’re not going to die, not yet anyway, but there are some physical peculiarities that need sorting out. </p> <p>You get an echocardiogram, and it shows that your heart muscle is up to the work it has outlined for it, but the elderly cardiologist tells you you’re fat, too young to be putting so much stress on your systems, and get some blood work done, thank you. Oh, and see you in a few weeks for a stress test, after we’ve dealt with that hypertension, of course. </p> <p>You’re out of work until things make a little more sense, and meanwhile you’re taking pills for the blood pressure and anxiety, just to keep all the metrics where they belong. </p> <p>You need to stay active, not just give in to the nearly debilitating right hook of mortality socking you smack in the jaw, but at first it’s an uphill battle. Then, after a few days, you come to grips with the fact that you’re a stone’s skip from fifty, and getting a wake-up call this cheaply is actually a pretty decent bargain. </p> <p>Your wife loves you, despite your various failings, and you have a chance to make sure she continues to do so. You can lay out a path to better health, for yourself and your relationship. You see your children as treasures, the kind you need to stay around for a long time to admire and cherish. </p> <p>This is when you realize you need to relax, make the changes that keep you on the right tracks, and enjoy the ride more often. Find reasons to say yes, not no. Don’t begrudge, be giving. Take the chance you’re given, and turn it into smiles, not scowls. </p> <p>Because even when things don’t work out exactly according to plan, it’s still sunny on the inside. </p> Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-68550446986204014352010-11-11T08:53:00.004-05:002010-11-11T10:02:42.763-05:00Amazon Reverses CourseLast night I'm watching the local news, and it includes a story about a book written by some miscreant in Colorado titled "The Pedophile's Guide to Love and Pleasure." And of course, because they are the media, the story focused not so much on the abhorrent subject matter of the book, but rather on the fact that Amazon was selling it on their mega-website. Apparently there is no story that can't be bastardized into a news sensation. <br /><br />Don't get me wrong. Amazon's decision to sell this vile screed can be seen as at least questionable, and they must be willing to take any public relation or commercial hits as inevitable consequences. But as a long-time opponent of censorship, I do not have an issue with Amazon's right to sell the book. They sell books about racist supremacy, religious fundamentalism, and various other nasty, exclusionary, bigoted topics, and they are allowed to do so. Still, there comes a time when doing something just because you have the right to do it is counterproductive to doing what is right. Yes, there is often a difference between exercising your rights and doing the right thing. <br /><br />And so, Amazon has now apparently made the decision that selling the book is not the right thing to do. Granted, the over 3000 one-star reviews (the site review minimum), anguished expressions of disgust, and countless calls for boycotting Amazon likely played a substantial role in determining this course of action, especially heading into the free-for-all holiday spending season. But regardless of the reasons, Amazon, after coming to the realization that their anti-censorship policy could in this case cost them untold millions in revenue and reputation, made the right call in making the book unavailable on their site. <br /><br />I have more to say about the author of the book, one Phillip R. Greaves II, but that's a special topic for the near future. For now, I'm thanking Amazon for doing what is right. It's not often a large company has an admirable corporate philosophy that it actually stands behind, and rarer still when such a company comes to understand that said philosophy, while well-intentioned, can also work against morality, ethics, and sensitivity.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-18617358390706672402010-05-14T16:01:00.002-04:002010-05-14T16:11:50.814-04:00You Don't Look Like MeOn top of all the other shenanigans going on, now Arizona is banning all ethnic studies courses in its public schools. It's okay to teach American History, or European History, but no Black or Hispanic History. And this because some shitheels decided it would be appropriate to teach an Hispanic Revolution course, allegedly advocating the overthrow of Whitey and The Man. <br /><br />This blanket-bombing mentality is just beyond me. Rather than target the specific offending course, the state is saying no to all ethnic studies. And then they'll act all self-righteous when their motives are questioned. <br /><br />This goes well beyond the Illegal Immigrant law, which at least has the benefit of motive behind it, even if it does impinge on the rights of citizens as well. <br /><br />So gird your loins, America, there's more to follow. It's just a matter of time until Walter Mosely and Maya Angelou are banned from the public libraries.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-6775310258920615112009-08-15T07:52:00.003-04:002009-08-15T09:14:16.829-04:00On the Road to Vicktory...1) The Eagles signing Michael Vick is not about grand ideals such as redemption or forgiveness or second chances. It is about green, and not Eagles green. It is about money. <br /><br />2) It's time for all the wannabe social workers to shut up with their psycho-babble. Enough about Vick's "rehabilitation." First, prison in this country is NOT about rehabilitation, it is about parking the nightmares someplace far away from where the righteous among us sleep. Second, what Vick operated was a vile, systematic process of torture and death, with money as an additional motive. To do what he did requires a complete fracture inside, a total disconnect between right and wrong, humane and inhumane, benevolent and malevolent. He is broken, and prison cannot fix that break. So shove this rehabilitation angle up your asses, you naive, bleeding heart morons. <br /><br />3) Vick did not make mistakes, unless that's what you want to call getting caught in the first place. If he was driving down the road and a neighbor's dog ran out in front of his car and he failed to hit the breaks in time and he hit the dog and killed it, then he would have made a mistake. But what Vick executed was a premeditated, organized, ruthless business plan that just happened to involve the torture, fighting, and various other abuses of dogs. That is not a mistake, that is a state of mind. It is a way of life. It is a life-view. <br /><br />4) Far be it from me to attempt to judge the worth of Vick's alleged remorse, but on referring back to #3 on my list, I'm not sure that a man with the psychological and emotional warping needed to do what he did is actually capable of what most of us would consider genuine remorse. <br /><br />5) To those pointing to Vick's involvement with The Humane Society and other charitable organizations and noting how it evidences his moving away from The Dark Side, allow me to call you a clueless cancer on the organs of society. Vick is following this path for one reason only: it is the path mandated as part of his sentence for the heinous crimes he committed. It does not spring from generosity or care or regret. Anyone who really believes he is speaking for these organizations because it's what he'd really rather be doing than lounging in his crib with his doting posse is simply too stupid to live anyplace except Utah.<br /><br />6) I want to ask a few questions of the bleeding hearts and those who see the Vick signing only in the context of how he can help the Eagles win. Do you have a dog? And if you do, would you want a man convicted of Vick's crimes living next door? And if you saw the man hooking battery cables to your dog, or beating him with a bat, or bashing his head with a shovel, or hanging him in the air with a chain by his neck, would you be thinking about redemption or forgiveness? No, not if you have a metaphorical ball in that metaphorical fleshy sack between your legs. But hey, it's okay to have the guy playing for and representing the football team for which you profess to bleed green, right?<br /><br />7) On the flip side, can we stop using Vick's name in the same sentence, paragraph, or even chapter as misanthropic monsters such as Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, bin Laden, and even Manson? What those men did, in varying degrees, defies the most basic tenets of man's tolerance of his fellows. As twisted and, sure, even evil, as Vick's actions were, to compare them to the atrocities perpetrated by history's most infamous, demonic screwheads is disingenous at best, and dangerously unperceptive at worst. <br /><br />And so...<br /><br />Michael Vick committed some damned horrible crimes. He was caught, and sent to jail, and served his assigned sentence. And in fact, he is serving it still, with post-release conditions being followed, and to a tee, I'm sure. And now that he is out, he has a right, like every other felon who has spent time in prison and then returned to the outside, to earn a living. <br />But here's the thing: what Vick did, and the crimes and horrors he undertook, illustrate just who and what Michael Vick is. He is a man priveleged to have experienced the best of what celebrity offers an individual in this country and morphed that sense of entitlement into the perceived right to plan and execute systematic breeding, training, torturing, fighting, and killing of dogs. <br /><br />Vick can have his second chance. There are thirty-one other teams in the NFL that I would have been perfectly content to deride as misguided when they signed him. The fact that it is the Eagles, the team I have cheered and booed and cried about and thrilled about for over forty years, who signed Vick makes me realize that there many, many things more important than watching grown men playing warrior games and making millions of dollars on a Sunday afternoon. <br /><br />Just like I wouldn't want Vick living next door, I don't want him playing for the Eagles either. But then, the callous effetes running the team just don't understand that comparison. They're forcing people to make a choice. And for a good person, the choice can mean compromising your principles. But then it is all about the green, right?Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-1699165909494878832009-08-07T20:50:00.000-04:002009-08-07T20:52:00.760-04:00Tableau on a TrainMost days, on the train, I read, head down, concentrating on the words on the page without much thought to what’s going on around me, at least until my stop arrives and it’s my time to move on. <br /><br />Today differed, though, and not for any clearly discernible reason. Maybe I was just paying more external attention than usual.<br /><br />Today I stepped into the car and turned right, toward an unoccupied outside seat, at quick notice the only one vacant. As I walked by, a woman sitting in the seat in front of my destination looked up and smiled cursorily, an unusual happenstance, but I smiled back as I strode past her and settled into my own seat. <br /><br />I took out my book to read, a novel, somewhat dense of style but entertaining, the sort that would usually keep my eyes on the page digesting the content with a reasonable amount of dedication to the words in print. But before I dug in, I noticed the woman in front of me holding her newspaper, with its congenital crease, and then she added an additional fold to quarter it, allowing a crossword to lay claim to one surface, and a Sudoku the other. I was curious as to which puzzle she would choose, and she responded to my unspoken query by taking out a red pen and inking in a numeral on the virgin Sudoku grid.<br /><br />I’d pretty much just worked into a zone with the book when, in a veritable whirlwind, an entity spun into the seat in front of me, to the left of the woman taking on the numerical challenge, flopping heavily into the padding, shaking the structure of the seat bracing and pressing the woman against the window wall of the car, either by physical invasion of her space or by a leading shock wave brought on by the frenetic motion of the bulk slamming inward. And the truth is, he might have chosen the seat next to me, had I not unthinkingly plopped down my briefcase on the upholstery instead of my lap, as I usually do, though, in my defense, the hour at which I was taking the train this day generally never generates enough ridership to mandate doubling up, and especially never on a Friday. And so…<br /><br />He was a man, maybe six feet tall, and on a glance wider across the buttocks than his upper half might indicate. A poignantly protruding, hawkish nose, pale complexion, and slightly graying brown hair, cut in a fashion better suited for a young lad, sprung from a head which itself sprouted from the collar hole of a blue checked button-down shirt. As well, he could have used a more recent, or more thorough, shave. <br /><br />I looked back down to my book, after noting just how scrunched the woman now appeared from behind, and began again to read, when I soon noticed a series of odd, jerky motions in my peripheral vision. Looking up, I noticed the man’s right hand flicking, seemingly randomly, as though shooing away an imaginary gnat or some other more profound illusory ephemera. The hand stayed within what might be considered his personal space, but if it was distracting to me, it was certainly more so to the woman, as I could see her head turned slightly to her left, as though glancing sidelong at the spastic manual ballet that had entered her world. His fingers were long and as pale as the skin on his cheeks and neck, and they wiggled gratuitously at the terminus of each spasm. <br />Before long, the flicking and fluttering waned and he took from the case in this lap a worn yellow legal pad. After subsequently producing a blue pen with a chewed and flattened non-ink end, he started to write rapidly. And so I hope you’ll forgive me my voyeuristic license when I tell you what happened next. <br /><br />His script was barely legible, but after seeing a few underlined headings and following entries, I was able to decipher a majority of what was being scrawled. First I decoded the word Vacation, and next to that /Packing, which lead to subheadings such as Socks, Linens, Pants, and Shirts. But these led further to Chargers (cellphone, Blackberry, razor), Pens (blue Bic, black [no Bic?]), Laces (black, brown, white [it pays to be prepared?]), and other minutiae. It conjured suspicions of OCD as I read surreptitiously over his shoulder. But a new wrinkle soon arose, as he flipped pages back and forth, from one list to another, more rapidly as the gyrations stretched forward in time, the pen racing across one page, flip, then another, flip again, then another, more this time, more letters and lines and even a couple exclamation points for those items demanding greater attention and less likelihood of being forgotten!!<br /><br />And I have to say, it was fascinating to see those hands move in blurs that seemed to streak and illuminate like lights at night in a long exposure photograph. But what never ceased were the intermittent hand flicks, and always the right: he wrote, flicked, flipped, and wrote some more, then flicked at what must have been an opportune moment to stop writing and flipping. And when he took a break, perhaps to ease a cramping in his hand, he tented his fingers into a gable on his head, with his thumb on his right temple and the fingers wrapping around to and across the forehead above his brow, which was furrowed as though in concentration or discomfort, or maybe from some building internal pressure, an increasing impetus, because before long his hand alit from his head and lashed out, but now with the gnawed-upon pen crooked in the web between thumb and forefinger. And I will say that I feared slightly for the safety of the woman next to him, who now seemed to be cowering as his movements brushed and impacted on her space-bubble and hesitant to undergo an inadvertent eye-gouge or tracheotomy from his manic writing instrument.<br /><br />Eventually, and not after very long, he slipped his pen away someplace unseen to me and produced a Blackberry, thumbing through various screens and items. Next came a flip cellphone, which he fingered open and checked through screens for calls, I guessed. <br />And then he reached down and back and unearthed a wallet, worn and brown and swollen with cards and papers, and at least the top edges of cash, checking the stashes there for who-knows-what. After replacing the wallet under his rump, while jostling the woman still trying valiantly but vainly to focus on her puzzle, he commenced slipping his fingers through his hair, plowing furrows and crests across his ‘do in patterns changing with each gesticulation. Then, at last, motion ceased. <br /><br />I do not know much of what happened next, except that he turned and asked the woman, who wasn’t cringing but was rather compressed in her corner, if the next stop was hers. She answered in the negative, which apparently meant her stop was the same as his, so he asked where she worked. To my surprise, she replied with her place of employment, which was too muddled for me to hear clearly, but I wasn’t really trying to understand what she was saying, my eavesdropping not extending to words spoken, but rather only to the movements and train-bound physical undertakings of the man, and even then, only things seen. Maybe I was drawing a line, as though listening in on a conversation was crossing an ethical delineation that observing visually was not. But as the train decelerated and I rose to depart at the approaching station, I did hear him mention that he was a lawyer. And in fact, he said lawyer, not attorney, something that in my experience was not the norm, but was in no way out of the realm of the expected or accepted. And at that moment any guilt that I felt about acting so that he had no choice but to propel himself into her quiet world some twenty or so minutes ago vanished in wisps of inevitability, because it was then I heard her express interest, in a tone not likely to be feigned, and then ask him where he worked. I left them to their devices, conditions, issues, and hopes. I was out. And for the first time in months, I’d read not one full page of my book on the train.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-19739778339060844652009-06-14T10:12:00.005-04:002009-06-14T10:30:42.728-04:00FootprintsI'm not a selfless philanthropist building and donating and helping future generations. <br />I'll leave the world no volumes of profound literature. <br />No monuments will be erected in my honor. <br /><br />But I have my legacy. <br /><br />I am often a contrarian. I am blatantly opinionated. I feel no compulsion to suffer fools quietly. And I conduct myself thusly not because I want to stir the pot for the sake of reaction or attention, but because I just happen to be passionate about some things. <br /><br />So maybe not in a grand fashion, but I am the sand that irritates the oyster. And the result has been the three pearls of my life: my children. (My wife, of course, is my diamond.)<br /><br />Three more different beasties from common loins there might never be. They're brilliant, caring, willful, and astonishing, all in their own manner. I could not be more proud of who they are now. And I could not be more excited or hopeful for the incredible adults they will one day be. They energize me, fulfill me, and justify me. They fill my heart to the point of bursting my chest. They give me the best of all reasons to be a good man. <br /><br />So when at last I've shuffled off this mortal coil, I will go with pride. <br /><br />I have my legacy.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-67344766664326723052009-06-12T09:31:00.002-04:002009-06-12T09:50:42.825-04:00Do As I Say...I have come to believe that one of the keys to a happy life (or at least to eliminating a submerged but powerful source of stress in one's life) is coming to grips with the various hypocrisies that make us who we are. <br /><br />Yes, we are all hypocrites. The problem is, somewhere along the line, we came to associate hypocrisy with some sort of moral or ethical turpitude. And that's a shame, because every one of us harbors several of them within us, like spiritual hazards we have to navigate around and past each day.<br /><br />This overly-PC wave under which we find ourselves swamped has further pushed the concept of hypocrisy deeper into the moral muck. And we really need to get past this limp, lame, counter-humanist perception of what has always been a very real part of mankind, like it or not. Simply, we need to stop couching our hypocrisies as something they are not. They are not, and never will be, conflicting judgments, paradoxical choices, or moral conundrums. Those are bullshit PC labels. It's called hypocrisy, Mr. and Mrs. Doublethink. <br /><br />I love animals and support their ethical treatment, to the point of abhorring fur, but I wear leather and eat the shit out of meat: red, white, and seafood. <br /><br />I want the parents of criminals to stop whining about how the system is oppressing their criminal children, but know damned well I'd likely feel the same if it was my son in that system. <br /><br />I look askance at parents who raise their voice to their kids in public, while being quite aware I've done the same myself, and likely will again one day.<br /><br />I know, they're not heavyweight examples, but they are the kinds of things we all hold inside us. They are the things with which we struggle during our more introspective moments (or with which we don't if we're too insensate to give two shits), and as such vital parts of our compositions, we need to accept them as what they are: hypocrisies, pure and simple. <br /><br />And if you don't like them, change them. Take a shot at more consistency. But you're never going to eliminate them all, so give yourselves a break and take solace in the fact that, despite what the PC pussies would have you believe, we all have them, we always will have them, and accepting them is half the battle in making them less the drains in our lives. In other words, you're a hypocrite, get used to it.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-59833020835112044382009-03-19T20:44:00.002-04:002009-03-19T20:48:18.485-04:00FacebookosisNow I'm confused, because I see all these people on Facebook constantly, telling me how they feel, what they're doing, what they ate, what they want, and here I thought that's what blogs are for. Silly me. But of course, some people are so bent on self-promotion that they will spend inordinate amounts of their days advertising their every thought, or whatever it is they process that passes for thoughts in their brain-worlds. <br />Maybe there should be more for people to actually LIVE and less for them to POST about. <br />And yes, again, with my simplistic hypocrisy. I'm nothing if not consistent.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-57319825871309742242009-03-09T11:50:00.005-04:002009-03-19T20:44:19.492-04:00Twitter?So today I finally got the scoop on this phenomenon called Twitter. <br /><br />I gave in to the Facebook peer pressure, creating my own page, and actually interacting with people. It's been fun. It's been different. And catching up with folks from my distant past has been intriguing and surprisingly satisfying. <br /><br />But this Twitter shit just baffles the hell out of me. <br />There is NOBODY with whom I am so fascinated that I feel compelled to maintain a running tab on their whereabouts and activities. <br />And you know what? I hope like hell there's nobody out there that wants to know what I'm doing, not only because the whole idea is frightfully pathetic, but because they'd be disappointed with just how boring and unmotivated I am when it comes to informing people that, hey, guess what, that sauerkraut I ate just twenty minutes ago? Well, it's out of me now baby, and I spray painted me a porcelain-based masterpiece!<br /><br />So while it may seem ironic to read coming from a relatively narcissistic blogger and Facebook participant, you can lose that Twitter shit, post-haste. Unless you're a celebrity, which renders you dismissible in my eyes, you're very likely boring, and if you're not, you're likely lying about not being boring. And if I want lies, bullshit, deceit, and self-righteous self-importance, I can listen to Rush Limbaugh.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-32272031406896660482008-12-28T14:50:00.003-05:002008-12-28T14:59:58.773-05:00Warm ThisIt's December 28, and it's a breezy, windy 65 degrees. <br />Sure, it's grey and damp, but it still feels too damned warm. <br /><br />I say fuck the tree-huggers and their global warming horseshit, but I still don't like this unseasonable weather. It should be in the 30's, or at least the 40's, and any gusts should feel like icy razors drawn across exposed flesh. Instead it feels like temperate mid-winter tropical breezes out there. <br /><br />This is not the kind of weather that compels me to stick up for New Jersey when outlanders comment on what a dungheap it is. I want the four seasons. I want the easy access to big cities and coastal playgrounds. I want smothering snow and I want blistering heatwaves. But I want them when they're supposed to be here, not as temporally displaced aberrations. <br /><br />Oh, and fuck Hurricane Schwartz too. He said this should be a colder, icier, snowier winter than we've had in some time. Look into my eye, Glenn. You're a dork and a scam-artist like all the rest of the weather-clowns. Now go get your fucking shine box.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-21303884315466136732008-12-28T10:49:00.002-05:002008-12-28T10:51:54.429-05:00Resolution #2I'm losing weight. <br />No, really, I am. I figure about forty pounds should do it. <br />I'm not committing to any particular fitness regimen, but I'm going to do it by Labor Day. Maybe even sooner. <br /><br />And I'll likely talk to my boy Rob about some running guidance. Yes, I hate running, but I love the occasional patch of solitude. That makes running an alliance between the bitter and sweet. I like the sounds of that. For today at least.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-61361603817413122112008-12-28T10:45:00.003-05:002008-12-28T10:52:34.552-05:00Order NowI'm curious, actually, if I'm the only person who has an automatic prejudice against any product packaged with the red and white logo bragging "As Seen On TV!"?<br /><br />And how about the Snuggie? I mean, don't we all want to look like Friar Tuck in the comfort of our own homes?<br />But really, as soon as there's one available with the Eagles logo, I'm ordering up so I can wear it to the next game I attend. I shouldn't get too many comments on that from the upper-level thugs.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-940434000811118142008-12-28T07:56:00.002-05:002008-12-28T08:00:54.347-05:00Resolution #1I've come to the conclusion that I'm a bad blogger. <br />I'm so erratic and so irregular, that even if someone wanted to read what I have to say, they could go months without anything new to ingest. And that's me failing to hold to my part of the Blogger's Compact. <br /><br />And so, going forward, as of January 1, 2009, I resolve to blog more regularly. And yes, it's a very subjective concept, this regularity thing, but rest assured it will be more often than once every five or six months or so. <br /><br />And Resolution #1A is my vow to become considerably less wordy. <br /><br />Believe that I will find #1 much more accessible and viable than #1A. But I will do my level best. <br /><br />Thank you for your patience.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-39954522629675838592008-06-23T19:39:00.005-04:002008-06-23T22:16:37.251-04:00Strange Days Indeed, Most Peculiar MamaGeorge Carlin is dead. <br />He died yesterday, which was a Sunday, which is apt in a way because he held Sunday in no higher regard than any other day of the week. <br /><br />In one of the true ironies existent in human nature, he became an icon by excelling at being an iconoclast. He tore down with what seemed to many uptight assholes to be wanton disregard and recklessness. In reality, he tore down with a focus and insight that very few individuals in the public spotlight have ever possessed. And when presented with his spot-on, poignant social commentary, the knee-jerk response of many was to attempt to denigrate and insult. And blissfully, their impotent attempts at both served only to make him all the more relevant. <br /><br />I got a kick out of the attempt at Faux News to trivialize his demise. They basically said he focused on drugs and obscenity. I have no doubt that's exactly how the tight-assed, hypocritical, ego-maniacs under Murdoch see it. Many of the readers as well. But what sums it up best is the interview from Hannity and Colmes. Not surprisingly, Hannity got nowhere near Carlin. He left it up to Colmes. And while I'd have given a pinky toe to have seen Hannity eviscerated by George, I was at least somewhat surprised that Hannity had enough sense to let his survival instinct keep him safe. On the flip side, Hannity was once again shown to be a sackless pussy shill for the Demonic Right.<br /><br />So he became notorious for his Seven Words. And like a bunch of good mindless, right-wing sheep, the establishment took him to task for what they saw to be senseless obscenity and vulgarity. In reality, though, what he did with those words, and the way he presented them, was establish that the words themselves carried no more power or significance than what we attributed to them. Without archaic, puritanical sensibilities, those words were no more offensive than any others. We, as careless communicators, attached the nastiness to the words. He felt they were nothing more than the product of silly religious superstitions. They should no more be banned, in total, than any other words in the language. Indeed, the obscenity of those words paled in comparison to the inherent obscenity of war, which was brought on not by some obsolete hang-ups, but by the very commission of acts to which we seemed unable or unwilling to attach due significance. It seems his message was on-point. <br /><br />He felt that humanity has lost its way, that we, as a species, have become more concerned with property than people. And in this, at least from a non-third-world aspect, he is quite correct. <br /><br />He stated clearly that he was not happy with his homeland, the USA. He felt it had become one huge, capitalist mall, with everyone trying to sell everyone else cheeseburgers, laundry detergent, drugs, and cars. <br />He felt that the American people had willingly become duped, and that they based their perception of freedom and liberty on false, meaningless choices. We feel free not because those we put into power are going to offer us something different when all is said and done, because let’s face it, they won’t, but because we can get dozens of flavors of jellybeans and ice cream on a whim. <br /><br />He felt that the only things the people in this country truly had any absolute right to were the ability to eat, have decent shelter, and the capacity to be able to work to provide and maintain those first two things. And unfortunately, those things are regularly trod upon by those we put into power. And we deserve the revocation of those rights for as long as we allow those assclowns to remain in their fancy leather chairs in whatever capitol they are serving. <br /><br />No man has ever been right all the time. But I think George Carlin might just have one of the highest percentages of correctness seen in modern times. He could cut through the bullshit and lay open what most would rather not see or speak of. And in so doing, he created, in essence, two camps of people who listened to him. There were those who heard what he had to say and professed outrage and indignation. These are the souls who fear the mirror like field-mice fear the hawk. He spoke of what was inside these people, and they were terrified to the point that nothing other than strident denial would allow them to maintain the illusion of their lives. <br />Then there were those who heard him, and realized that the mirror was a best friend, that it could be used to identify those places that needed the most work, the dark recesses that, once illuminated, held the secrets that could do the most good. <br /><br />I was a fan from the time I was allowed to listen to such comedians, pretty much the early 1970’s. I never got to see him live, because I always found a reason to say, next time, I’ll see him the next time he comes around. But I didn’t need to see him in person to appreciate the treasure he was. <br /><br />We don’t become better by pampering ourselves and making believe all is well. We don’t improve our lots in life by pretending that we will be rightly served by the people we elect, the gods we believe in, or the relationships we undertake. We need to stay on top of these matters, not only because the others aren’t always acting in our best interests, but because we are often guilty of the worst things of which we accuse them. And so I would like to thank George for being the harsh mirror that too many of us shun, but that we all need in a real bad way.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-87674632835474574602008-04-01T22:26:00.002-04:002008-04-01T22:37:40.811-04:00Don't Fear the Reaper, and more cowbellPeople are afraid to die.<br />No great shame there, of course. Death represents the most inexplicable and profound of unknowns. It casts questions that cannot be answered. It’s the final, ultimate darkness at the end of what has been, hopefully, a long run of light.<br />And so it’s no wonder that people want to attribute some grand meaning to it. It’s not an end, but a beginning, the gateway to some ethereal plane, a place where all is always well and kindness and pleasure are eternal presences. And what better place to meet up with those who went before us, those we miss so acutely it hurts in our core, there to reunite and reminisce and celebrate?<br />But somewhere along the line, we saw the need, or someone did, anyway, to give credit for this splendid afterlife to the same god, or gods, who’ve become increasingly more obsolete by the decade. So if we’re watching the god-creators erode and decay, what does that say about their versions of Heaven?<br />Are the Fields Elysian? Are there seventy-some or so virgins awaiting our deflowering manhoods? Is St. Peter posted at the golden gates, checking his list once, and then twice, damning those naughty and admitting those nice?<br />Heaven might be none of those things. And it might be some or all of them.<br />Or, even more likely, but by no means verifiable, there is no heaven or afterlife beyond this one, and when your body ceases to function, your cells gradually and gracefully dance the slow waltz to decomposition that lands them back among the most basic elements from whence they primordially came. This would mean no dreams, no recollections, and no supernatural visits back to the land of the living to find out just how much your widowed husband is living it up now that you’re not there to crimp his philanderous style.<br />But no matter what our ultimate lot, whether this life is a way station en route to the next cosmic plane, or if it’s the be-all and end-all, the whole gamut snarled into one existential Gordian knot, the bottom line is, no matter how many SacredHolyDivine books and scriptures insist otherwise, and no matter how much I rant and crow to the contrary, we just don’t know.<br />Say that with me.<br />We just don’t know.<br />When we die we may have several dozen chaste young ladies crawling over us for a taste of our carnal hotness, or we may have several hundred worms and insects crawling over us to ingest us and excrete us into the earthly coil, that and nothing more.<br />But whatever it may be, whatever may await us, we just don’t know.<br />And yet, it seems that the majority of us live our lives with our eyes on the afterlife as some great prize, as though it’s a piñata that we’re lucky enough to hack at without the hindrance of a blindfold, so this word be damned, full speed ahead to Heaven, let me at what comes next, to hell with what I could do today with the time I’ve got.<br /><br />To call it a shame would be like calling a nuclear blast a bonfire. In fact, it is an atrocity, a slimy, dripping gob of phlegmy saliva spit in the eye of the processes that have plodded for millions of years to bring us to where we are today.<br />We are so intent in worshipping something outside us that we forget about the god inside us. We are so focused on getting to the Next Level and avoiding some heinous, evil underworld that we lose sight of the life we have now. And in so doing, we lose sight of what’s truly important and Holy in the world around us, the souls we touch and who touch us, and the personalized faith we need to keep churning in our spiritual engines.<br /><br />Yes, this intense fear of death helped create the need for externalized faith, and so aided greatly in the creation and evolution, not to mention the unscrupulous implementation, of religion. As we became more aware and cognizant and contemplative, we conjured up a need for a redeeming afterlife, one which somehow or another could only be magnanimously provided for us by a deity, assuming, of course, that we were aptly devout and duly cowed by said deity’s alleged greatness. And this afterlife helped make us less afraid. Or so the story goes.<br />Yet when the night is dark, and the odd noises creak ominously in our rooms, and sleep is found to be too damned distant, we might dare, perilously, to be more honest with ourselves than at any other time and think long and hard about the things that happen now, and why, and the things that happen next, and why. And in these moments, with the white-hot perception brought on by such introspective frankness, our hearts tach up and our souls grasp fruitlessly for a hold, and we admit to ourselves, with a teeth-chattering shudder, that when it comes to what happens after death, we just don’t know. We can hope, and pray, and desire and crave and need, but we do not know. And the fact is, if there’s no “after” after this, if our purpose here is nothing more than to be part of it all, to play a role, grand or otherwise, in this unbelievably intricate and complex production, then those who lived their lives with an eye on the heavenly prize will have wasted entirely too much time worrying about how what they are doing today will effect the judgment to come. They’ll have whacked the shit out of the piñata, hitting it square with every swing, and all that will have fallen out is broken hopes and shattered dreams.<br /><br />So damn you if your primary concern is with some heaven or another. Damn you if you enjoy one thing less in this life than you could have just because you were worried about your name writ in some mystical endgame book. Damn you if you worshipped some god without when you should have been worshipping the gods within. And damn you if you ever take one life in the name of this silly-ass concept of god and his heaven. May St. Peter be a toothless, paranoid schizophrenic with TB, may all your virgins be syphilitic crone-whores, and may the glory of this alleged god be shards of glass rubbed in your face with a chain-mail glove.<br /><br />You want goodness in this life? Love yourself, and love others, at least those you care to. Teach your children to be the best people they can be. Teach them accountability, that every action has consequences, and that those consequences are theirs alone to bear. Love them, endeavor to give them more than you had yourself, and try to learn when to protect them and when to let them feel the burn of failure.<br />Don’t do anything to anyone else you would not want done to yourself.<br />You don’t need a Bible, or a Koran, or a Torah, or some marketing-driven, cash-cow self-help scheme to fill those empty spaces inside. Because, see, they’re not really empty. They’re just waiting for you to let the faith already there become ripe, to let it shine more brightly than the fear you have of death or the misplaced faith you have in some god. And hey, if there ends up being a god and a heaven of some sort, you’ll have lived a good and scrupulous life, so you should be good to go anyway.<br /><br />It’s a cliché, but truer words were never coined: Life is for the living. Not only that, but life is for living. It’s not for getting ready to die. Learn that, and believe in yourself and those you love and trust more than in any other specious concept, and you’ll be as full and happy as any book, seminar, audiocassette, or other religious trappings could never make you.<br /><br />Next we’ll address synchronicity and intricate balances.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-32749680930656084312008-04-01T22:23:00.000-04:002008-04-01T22:26:12.639-04:00Take your faith and shove it...deep inside.So, these Spiritual Systems.<br /><br /> First, let me say that it seems that the more fundamental one’s religious beliefs, the less likely a person is to be drawn into one of these new-fangled self-help schemes. The more immersive religions, like Islam, won’t likely lose many adherents to these programs. Allah is too unforgiving and demanding to let you have faith in anything except his word, and those who buy into the Muslim theology know full well that any kind of screw-up, even something as innocuous as momentary mental apostasy, could result in the loss of appendages, limbs, or the capacity to breathe without the aid of electronic medical devices.<br /> And among Christians and Jews, the more fundamental, orthodox believers will likely shun anything outside of their religion that requires any kind of faith that is even mildly redolent of spiritualism.<br /> So, these are the sheep, the believers being led by the snouts to do as they’re told, think as they’re demanded, and live as they’re directed. They, simply, are lost to the real world, the place where actions carry real-time consequences and no amount of prayer or confession or sacrifice will undo whatever wrongs they’ve done. And while I’ve only mentioned the world’s three largest religions, any follower of any religion who has muddied him or herself in the dogmatic quagmire of his or her given faith will also fall under this heading, denomination be damned.<br /><br /> Now, The New Earth, or The Secret, or any of these other nifty little systems, they’re now on the hot seat, at least for a few minutes. Because, I personally cannot understand how plunking down money for a book, or a seminar, or a number of audiocassettes, can fulfill me. But then, I’m not one of those breaking at least partially free from his religion, spiritually cast adrift by the burgeoning knowledge that the crap I’ve allowed to be funneled into my soul by those who actually know no more about the here and now or the afterlife than I do myself is actually toxic and unnecessarily self-deprecatory.<br /> And that’s what’s happening here. Life-long believers are finally coming to grips with the fact that we and our world have no more to do with God or Yahweh or Allah than with Zeus or Odin. They are finding that, no matter how many hours they spend numbing their asses in those ridiculously torturous church pews, and no matter how much time they spend in a closet grinding their knees to dust in supplication before some pederast saucepot, the empty spot deep inside, the place where they should be the fullest, is growing and becoming more and more unsettling. Indeed, that spiritual hole is threatening the very grounding of their lives.<br /> But rather than accept what they already know but have managed to tuck away in the dark corner reserved for all the things we inherently sense but are commanded to ignore, things like logic and common sense in the face of ridiculous claims, or the positive nature of self-preservation, instead they look to books and seminars and audiocassettes. Instead, they’re replacing one religion with another. And while I am so very encouraged by their partial breaks from generations-bred adherence to dogmatic idiocy, even if they don’t grasp that’s what this quest really is, they still don’t get who god really is, and they still don’t get who most deserves their faith.<br /><br /> People:<br /> <br /> You want god? Look in the mirror.<br /> Look at your spouse, or mate, or lover.<br /> Look at your teenaged son, or your toddler daughter.<br /> <br /> God is within you. God is within them. All the faith you have, all the reverence you carry, should be directed inward to you, and outward to them.<br /> Despite the outright disingenuous lies spouted by the theo-idiots among us, evolution is real. We are the current culmination of millions of years of biological tap-dancing and tangos. Ego is good. We need it to survive, to enrich ourselves, and to protect others. So when someone tries to tell you that ego and self-interest are bad things, whether it comes via book, seminar, or audiocassette, ask that person why their name is plastered all over their shit if ego and self-interest are such atrocities. Ask them why they aren’t marketing their wares anonymously, and giving it all away gratis.<br /><br /> Christ, people, we didn’t need a god to create all this! Considering the vast stretches of time we’re talking about, and the incomprehensible, nearly infinite oceans of space, a tidy little nook in the universe, such as the one we enjoy, is a statistical inevitability. Sure, we may not have all the answers as to how the universe was created or how the Earth came about or exactly how life formed here, but that’s no reason to give up and say Goddidit.<br /> So, first accept the fact that you’re here because you are. There really needn’t be anything more profound than that backing up your existence. This incessant probing into Grand Purposes and Universal Reasons may be the residual shrapnel of demanding, insatiable intellects drilling into everything they sense, but we need to get it under control. Seek answers, but understand that trying to personify or deify everything is a curse, not a blessing.<br /> And second, grasp the fact that no faith you could have will ever be more productive than the faith that’s directed inward. You should never believe in anything as much as you believe in yourself. And running a close second should be those who have earned or are inherently deserving of your faith. Your loved ones, all of them, those you trust and would do anything to protect, all need the light of your faith, just as you need theirs. So if you’re giving the most faith to some ethereal god based on some archaic, mish-mosh of a holy book, then you’re missing the mark, no matter what the people in robes and collars and funny hats insist in drumming into your head.<br /> And if you can’t find a way to turn the gaze of your faith where it really belongs, as stated above, go back to your religion and save your money. You don’t need a Spiritual System, you need an intervention.<br /><br /> Next we talk about how death comes into play in this passionate production.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8567824871996530325.post-67647823021490207292008-04-01T08:09:00.001-04:002008-04-01T08:12:09.025-04:00Thanks Oprah, now fuck off...I wish Oprah Winfrey no ill will.<br /> Really, I don’t. She can say and do whatever she wishes. Granted, I think her qualifications to play the role of literary critic and make or break books are laughably wanting. But it’s her show, her dime, and her time, so if people want to take her seriously, for whatever reason that might utterly escape me, then I say, hey, have at it, Hoss.<br /> But the thing is, now she’s pushing this New Earth thingie, by some Eckhart Tolle fellow, he apparently also of the Power of Now. And all this, along with the now-passe The Secret, actually encourages me regarding the spiritual integrity of all those who are seeking some sort of fulfillment.<br /> You see, people look to these Spiritual Systems because they’ve decided to exercise some independent thought and delve into just what empty spaces are not being filled by their current belief structures. They realize that their applicable Holy Books do not have all the answers, that no mortal man could possibly make the interpretations necessary from those writings in order to clearly delineate what was meant in those sacred tomes, and that the answers they’re seeking are muddied by all the theo-claptrap they’ve been force-fed all these decades.<br /> This means that people are- gasp- questioning the very underpinnings of their religions, even if they are not fully, consciously aware of their doubts. They are realizing that the millennia-old and obsolete tenets of their religions are incapable of seamlessly applying to their real-life experiences, and that the inconsistencies and fallacies are about as appropriate for their questing spiritualities as blood-letting would be for their winter colds.<br /> And so, for this, if for nothing else, I thank Oprah. She is providing a service, at least to Americans, and those of less devout, more intelligently thinking tendencies, by providing the conduit that will allow at least a trickle of new, experiential enlightenment to flow into their lives.<br /> I have much more to say on this. But one post just won’t do it, not without boring the poor reader to proverbial tears. So I am going to go off on this in installments, and not likely regularly, but rather as I am able to do so.Freashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07045792420167719150noreply@blogger.com0