Tainted Wisdom - Latest Blog Entries

Healthcare, Fear Mongering, Disinformation and Stupid People

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 14:03:00 -0500

Will the fear mongering and disinformation ever end in the Healthcare debate? Probably not as long as Special Interest Groups control our politicians and the vast majority of Americans remain ignorant of the issue. People cannot take politicians (Republican or Democrats) on their word. They have their own agendas that they follow first and formost reguardless of our needs or interests. You have to research important issues like this yourself from both sides if you really want to know what's going on. Unforunately for all of us, stupid people will never do this. When it comes to Healthcare, Republicans take the cake on fear mongering and disinformation. They are all lined up spewing crap for their Insurance Company Lobbyist buddies. Listen to this interview about the Horrors of the British Healthcare System. It's only about 5 minutes long.

I can’t believe Americans are so gullible… but we are. The vast majority of the American people are idiots. Their idea of researching issues is to watch Rush Limbaugh or Michael Moore. IF they even do that! And these people vote!!!! Most just believe what their party and politicians tell them without question. A perfect example is the Obama's Birth Certificate issue and the Death Panels issue by Sarah Palin. How can people believe this stuff??? Good lord people are stupid.

8 HOURS A DAY - A Rant on My Weakness and Failure

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 12:00:00 -0500

This is a response to an email from a friend in which he argued the virtues of the 40 hour work week. I had a hangover when I wrote this response, so go easy on me.

I have come to recognize that my 40-hour workweek is a product of my having failed to live my life the way I should have lived it. So I serve as an ant in an anthill, running around with all the other ants back and forth on the highway, to the grocery store, the gas station, to work. I feed the queen fat bugs, but I only get a taste of the carcass. Work does suck when the benefit of your labor isn't yours but ends up in someone else's belly. That's why I most envy the artist (sans compromising with an editor). Your entire work product is yours. I don't think there is anything innately good about being a drone working the 40-hour workweek, as if the gods have put the necessity of it in our sinews. The 40-hour workweek is punishment. It is something idle slaves are forced into by the whip master because if they weren't made to work, they wouldn't work. I'm saying that the only people needing a 40-hour workweek are the ones that couldn't get off their feet and live life differently (or should I rather say work toward their self-defined purpose with passion from an early age?) than all the other ants, or slaves.

If I were to do it all over again, I'd live by 4 rules, and as a result, this day I'd be unshackled of the curse the 40-hour workweek, and of women, both of which devour the benefit of a man's labor:

1. Never marry or share finances with anyone.

2. At 18, enlist in a government job that pays retirement after 20 years service, and get as many college degrees as you can during this 20-year service.

3. Never borrow money, not one penny.

4. Save 1/2 of everything you earn, and put it in dividend-paying stock portfolio, and never sell what you buy, unless the payout is insane.

If I'd done these 4 things, I'd be traveling the world on a vacation that never ended, and writing my stuff every evening at my hotel in France, or Rome, or Moscow. Yeah, there is still a period of servitude and perhaps risk of death in battle, but at least you have a time-certain payout on your investment of the very years of your life, your flesh and blood, and your soul.

If only my friend Bud had instructed me on women when I was in high school. His words won’t leave me and it is a tragedy my ears first took them in at age 38, 20 years too late:

"People are always trying to set me up with these women looking for relationships. I tell them I don't need a relationship because I feel whole as I am. I don't need another person to complete me. I'm not that insecure. Of course they respond with 'you're gay, aren't you?' because they have one-dimensional thinking. I reply by saying, 'I'm not gay. I love vaginas. I just don't want to own one.'"

Abandoning the 20 definitive steps

Sat, 07 Jun 2008 11:57:00 -0500

This was my introduction to the definitive 20 steps, but I am abandoning the attempt because I am an idiot and no one should listen to my crap:

“I have decided to write a self-improvement guide consisting of 20 steps. Granted I am so far from perfect it isn’t funny, but I am in a lot better shape, make more money, have obtained more education, have traveled more places, and have otherwise done many more things with my life than most of my middle-aged peers. I am even an aspiring writer. My greatest weaknesses are in relationships and family, so in good faith, I cannot make these things part of my 20 steps. In other words, my proffered 20 steps will be solely focused on improving the self in ways that are solely in your control. And here are THE DEFINITIVE 20 STEPS:”

STEP THREE: MAKE A LIST

Mon, 02 Jun 2008 21:46:00 -0500

All I should have to say is “make a list.” Actually, it’s more like “make a list and do the shit on your list.” There is no certain formula for making your list, but it helps to specifically state what you are going to do and when you are going to do it.

For instance, if you want to lose weight, an item on your list, “lose weight,” isn’t likely to work as well as “don’t eat any bread from January 2008 to February 2008,” or “don’t eat snacks from January 2008 to February 2008,” or whatever. I once went on a diet and lost 10 lbs in one month. On my list (an electronic spreadsheet), one of the listed items was: “don’t eat sugar, bread, rice, potatoes, or pasta from January 2007 to February 2007.” Every morning I’d read my list, and I’d read, “don’t eat sugar, bread, rice, potatoes, or pasta from January 2007 to February 2007.” Guess what? I lost weight. I lost 10 lbs in one month.

Another example: I learned to type as an adult. I did it by putting on my list:

“LEARN TO TYPE
Buy typing program after work on Monday, at Best Buy, at 6:30pm.”

When Monday at 6:30pm came, I was at Best Buy and guess what I bought?

I then changed my list:

“LEARN TO TYPE
Install program after work on Tuesday at 6:30pm”

And finally:

“LEARN TO TYPE
Practice with typing program every day from 6:30pm to 7:00pm.”

In two months, I was typing 60 words per minute without looking at the keyboard.

In summary:

You are more likely to do something if you write it down and read it daily.
You are more likely to get something accomplished if you specifically spell out how you are going to do something, one small step at a time, and exactly when you are going to do it.

Finally, I’d recommend you start with one thing, get into the groove, and then add the next thing to your list, and then the next thing. Don’t overwhelm yourself or you might lose motivation. Four “must do” tasks per day are about right for me. Any more, and it is too much given the requirements of my day job.

Right now my list says:

Walk the dog from 5:00am to 5:45am
Go to gym from 5:45am to 6:45am
Write 1000 words per day from 6:30pm to 8:30pm.
Don’t drink more than a half bottle of wine per day.

I’m doing it all. I don’t put anything about my day job down because I have to do that. Whether I list it or not, I will show up at work at 8:00am and stay until 5:00pm. Actually I’m not doing it all. I admit my failure to follow #4, if ever, but nobody is perfect, eh? #4 is a joke anyway. At least I’m writing and keeping the dog and me in shape.

STEP TWO: GET UP AT 5:00AM AND TAKE A SHOWER

Mon, 26 May 2008 22:59:00 -0500

Throughout my life, I’ve never met an unsuccessful person who always woke up early, even on weekends. The people who don’t succeed are usually the ones that like to sleep in. They are the ones who will sleep until 9:00am or noon if given the choice. They are often the ones who are complaining about not being able to sleep enough, or how tired, fatigued, or whatever they are. In college, I woke up at 5:00am every morning, took a quick shower, and was studying at my desk by 5:15am. My friend Jim slept until noon because he could get away with it. He’d schedule his classes so he never had to be in class before 1:00pm. I graduated in 3 years. He took nearly 7. The first words out of Jim’s mouth always pertained to his lack of sleep.

“Hi Jim,” I’d say.

“Hey,” he’d reply.

“How goes it?”

“I didn’t get enough sleep last night…[insert another 5 minutes of boring sleep details, even though the bastard had slept until noon. Add to this something about not being able to fall asleep…]”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, how are you?”

“I got up early and studied for a test, wrote a paper, went to the gym, and then went to class.”

“I don’t know how you do it. You did all that already and I just woke up.”

“It’s easy. When my alarm goes off, I get out of bed and take a shower.”

Jim didn’t believe it was so easy. I believe he had so much trouble falling asleep and sleeping because he was obsessed with whether he had gotten, or would get, enough sleep. His obsession just made things worse. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe his mind was too active when his head hit the pillow. Drinking a glass or two of wine before bed, or taking a sleeping pill, could easily have solved his problem.

Bottom line: Go to bed on schedule and get up at 5:00am. You know how much sleep you need. If you need 7 hours, go to bed at 10:00pm and get up at 5:00am. If you don’t manage to sleep the full 7 hours, due to insomnia, anxiety, or whatever, too bad. Get up at 5:00am anyway. Eventually you’ll adjust. Drink a cup of coffee to wake up. Don’t bitch and moan about how little sleep you’ve had. No one wants to hear it. Tough it out. Before you go to bed the next time, pop a sleeping pill or drink a few glasses of wine. You’ll be fine. You’ll adjust to your new schedule with perseverance.

I’m sorry I can’t make Step Two more complex, but only redundant: Set the alarm for 5:00am. Don’t hit the snooze button when it rings. No matter how agonizing it is to abandon your warm blankets, you just need to put your feet on the floor and stand the hell up. These instructions are no more difficult than reaching down to pick up a quarter in the street. When the alarm goes off, put your feet on the floor and stand the hell up. There is no telekinesis involved.

You may still be asking the question: “But why get up at 5:00am every day?”

The answer is simple. When you rise early, you are giving yourself more time to do more with your life. I can’t answer what you should do with this time. I believe we each have a subjective, self-defined purpose. You have to decide what yours is. Mine is writing. So, in my case, by getting up at 5:00am, I give myself 3 hours to write each day. Everyone else is in bed and can’t bother me. On the other hand, if I plan to sleep in and write my next chapter after work, there are too many potential obstacles to navigate, like having to work late, dealing with family or social obligations, or being less motivated because working all day is an energy drain.

5:00am can be a holy time if you seize it. By being an early bird, and assuming you don’t have to be at work until 8:00pm, you are giving yourself as much as 900 hours per year to devote to your sole, self-defined purpose, whatever you choose it to be.

As far as taking a shower right after the alarm rings, I recommend it because it helps reset you. I’ve had a lot of nonproductive 5:00am to 8:00am’s because I didn’t first shower. For some reason, by being unwashed and undressed, I end up sitting around in my underwear, surfing porn instead of writing.

Go set your clock for 5:00am!

STEP 1: GIVE AWAY YOUR TELEVISION

Sat, 17 May 2008 16:38:00 -0500

Let’s face it. If you are not successful, or if you are not as successful as you’d like to be, it is because you have not put enough time into succeeding. Granted, you are probably able to conjure up the old excuse that you are too limited for time to find time for you to grow and self-improve, but let me challenge you to be honest with yourself. How many hours do you spend each week in front of the television? When you have the number, ask yourself what you could be doing with this much time each week should you spend it doing something other than watching American Idol. Have you learned to paint or play the piano yet? There we have it. Most likely the television is robbing you of becoming an improved person. It is an evil hypnotism box. So, go to your television right now, unplug it, pick it up, and carry it out to the curb. Now you have more time for self-improvement. Don’t make excuses. Who cares if you can’t watch FOX news anymore? Get a newspaper. Reading stimulates the mind more than watching so-called journalists yell at their guests all day, promoting ridiculous political agendas. And by the way, I challenge you to apply this time-before-the-television test to your Internet usage. And just think. How much money would you save if you got rid of your cable and Internet bill? I agree we need to write emails and do online transactions these days, but most coffee houses have WI-FI. Go have coffee for 30 minutes while you write your daily emails. Leave the coffee house and the Internet connection behind so you don’t spend the entire evening, every day after work, surfing porn.

Shrooms

Mon, 28 Apr 2008 07:38:00 -0500

Shrooms

I just returned from Amsterdam. In Amsterdam, it is legal to purchase raw shrooms, hallucinogenic mushrooms. They cost about $10Euro or $16USD. I purchased a small plastic box of what were called Thai Shrooms. Inside were 10, 2” to 3” long, white shrooms, and as instructed by the lady working the shroom counter, I went back to my hotel and ate half the container. I sat back on the bed in front of BBC news. Other than the television, all that was significantly available to me was the room’s large window, which overlooked a grassy garden filled with many well-manicured trees, flowers, bushes, and footbridges. A canal with its several off-shooting rivulets flowed through this garden and under the footbridges. In the background stood the city of Amsterdam in the light of a full moon. Clouds intermittently concealed and uncovered the full moon.

After about 40 minutes, the hotel bible on the end table next to the bed began to come to life. It appeared that its leather was breathing. I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My nose and ears had grown to 3x their original size and the figure in the mirror became a separate entity: it was and wasn’t my reflection anymore. The distorted me began pointing back, laughing at me, blowing kisses, and winking. I closed my eyes for what seemed to be an instant, but after returning to the bed and checking the clock, I realized I’d been in the bathroom for about 30 minutes. Nevertheless, while my eyes were closed, I was given a vision of all the errors I’d made in my life, all of my imperfections, and failings. I was also given a gift: a realization of how fragile and short life is, and how I needed to use the remainder of my days diligently writing the novels and short stories I have been foreordained to write. Long story short, Vincent van Gogh appeared to me in this vision and offered me his ear.

In any event, I feel I have become a better man by taking shrooms. I have a better knowledge of my faults and failings and have become better focused on my ultimate purpose. Whether I will change my ways and focus is still up to me, but at least now, when I choose failure and misery it will be a choice I make with my eyes open.

About the rest of the trip: I turned off the lights and stood at the window, looking out. The trees turned into an army of treants and trolls going to war against each other, while the bushes and flowers turned into gnomes and dwarves joining in the foray. In the clouds mixed with the moonlight, the face of Zeus appeared to watch the battle from the heavens. Every once in a while, he’d open his lips and exhale wind that caused the battle to ebb and flow based on which side’s clerics most diligently prayed to him for favor.

I woke up the next morning feeling great. There were no side effects but an enhanced imagination and a better knowledge of my self.

I recommend everyone go to Amsterdam and try shrooms.

Slavery in America

Sun, 06 Apr 2008 13:52:00 -0500

Slavery in America

Egypt had slaves. They built the pyramids under the lash until Moses. Early America had slaves. They picked cotton under the lash until Abraham Lincoln. Today America still has slaves. We are the slaves, white, red, yellow, black, and brown alike.

You likely disagree that we are slaves, but bear with me. Let's first talk about what slaves do and what they get for it. The slaves in Egypt built the pyramids and in return for their labor they received whippings and just enough food to survive. In short, they received a lot less than the value of their labor. The Pharaoh enjoyed the real fruits. In Early America, the cotton-picking slaves benefited no more from their labor. They too received lashings, just enough to eat, and lived in shacks. The plantation owner reaped the reward of his slaves' labor. That's why he had the big house. He made a lot of money selling the cotton and keeping it all. So, the premise is this: a slave gets back a heck of a lot less than he earns, and he is forced to work for another person that lives the good life off the majority of his labor.

So, are you a slave? Are you forced to work to subsist? Do you receive little benefit from your labor? Do you answer, "yes," to a few or all of the following questions?

Do you rent rather than own your house or apartment?

How much of your mortgage payment is interest?

How long could you go without working before you went hungry?

How much do you pay in taxes?

Are your cars paid off?

Do you save any money?

How much debt is on your credit card?

If you had invested all the tax, interest, and rent you've ever paid in your life, would you be substantially better off today?

We can rationalize away the idea we are slaves, but we can't deny the fact that the bulk of the wealth we create ends up in someone else's pocket. I believe the Slavemaster is still alive and well in Modern America.

What are Superdelegates?

Thu, 27 Mar 2008 06:52:00 -0500

What are Superdelegates?

If neither Obama or Clinton get enough delegates to win the Democratic nomination, the Superdelegates vote to break the tie. The majority vote of the delegates can be ignored.

In a recent nasty letter to Nancy Pelosi, a bunch of bourgeoisie Democrats with lots of elite ties and money explained:

"Superdelegates, like all delegates, have an obligation to make an informed, individual decision about whom to support and who would be the party's strongest nominee…"

In other words, Superdelegates know better than the delegates because they are smarter, have more money, more vested political ties, are the backbone of the Democratic good-old-boy network, etc.

Superdelegates are pure bullshit and their very existence runs afoul any concept of Democracy I’ve ever known. I’m sick of power politics designed to give an edge to wealthy, established, power holders.

Fuck the Superdelegates. They appear to me to be secret members of the Communist Party. Either that, or they are more Republican than Republicans at heart.

Hillary and the White Male Voter

Mon, 24 Mar 2008 08:46:00 -0500

Hillary and the White Male Voter

I am a white male voter, and if I must choose between Hillary or Barack, I shall vote for Barack. Why? Because Hillary is a white, middle-aged woman with an attitude and white, middle-aged women with attitudes are symbols of sexual denial for white male voters. Every time I see Hillary on TV, thoughts of sexual repression immediately enter my mind. I know this is psychologically wrong of me, but I can’t help it. Let me state the facts in support of my unfair stereotyping of this well-achieved female politician:

Bill did cheat on her. Can you say Monica Lewinsky? I have always wondered if Bill would have cheated had Hillary been softer and sweeter to him, had given him all the sex he needed? I don’t know the answer, but my gut tells me she could have been softer and sweeter.
White, middle-aged women are anecdotally renown for denying their husbands the sex they need. I’ve been friends with a lot of married, middle-aged guys over the years, and the majority have admitted that sex with their wives has been on a downward slope since getting married. They all seem to claim that sex was a daily thing while dating, and then came the kids, the daily stress, and all that. They are left yearning. This is why, in my opinion, white, married, middle-aged men are always being caught visiting prostitutes.
Hillary radiates the anger and vindictiveness that is stereotypically part of the psyche found in a woman that has lost her youth and beauty. For some reason, there is so much similarity between Hillary and the witch that gives Snow White the poison apple.

I could go on with additional points, but I won’t. I think I’ve made my point. Just imagine if Jennifer Garner ran for President and was debating against Barack. Now contrast this image with Hillary debating Barack. Get my point? It may not be fair for me to feel this way, but I’ve got to tell you I’m not alone. A lot of white male voters have agreed with what I am saying. It is a sad truth, but Hillary represents sexual repression to us white boys. Granted there is still some fear of black males in us. Black males represent the theft of our white women in our collective subconscious. But, we have come a way towards overcoming this prejudice.

Eliot Spitzer and the Hooker

Wed, 12 Mar 2008 08:48:00 -0500

Eliot Spitzer needs a taste of his own medicine. That pompous bastard made a career out of prosecuting others for crimes that really shouldn’t be crimes: namely those involving drugs and prostitution. Don’t get me wrong, I think dope and hookers should be legal, but as long as they aren’t, lets sock it to this son of a bitch for his hypocrisy and cold, sadistic heart. Let him feel society’s wrath and torment from the other side now, just as he has wrongfully dished it out to others for committing victimless crimes. Let him know what it is like to be punished, scorned, fined, and imprisoned for doing something like paying a willing girl for intimacy because getting some at home isn’t enough, or isn’t at all.

On another note, I thought that Roe v. Wade was about a woman’s right to do what she wanted with her body? If she can murder an unborn fetus, why can’t she sell a man the right to thrust his penis into her vagina, or anus, or mouth for that matter? It would seem that the right to sell one’s body for prostitution is but a minor subset of the right to have an abortion? And what is prostitution anyway? What if a woman marries a man and stays at home, doesn’t work, and lives off his earnings? Is this not an example of a man paying a woman for sex? Is this not prostitution? Don’t get me wrong – I don’t think prostitution is wrong. It is an admirable profession, provided the provider of sex is willing and is not stigmatized for her work.

Saliva, the new Drug?

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 08:45:00 -0500

I just read the news, and apparently there is some new drug out there called Saliva. You can buy it in herb shops in states where it hasn’t yet been banned, or over the Internet. Rumor has it the Mexican-grown plant, when chewed or smoked, gives you a short-term hallucinogenic experience akin to that of LSD.

Of course the lawmakers are rushing to ban the substance. Why? Because we live in a society that doesn’t believe we are entitled to the freedom to partake of anything that might give us any temporary joy or permit us to see the world through new lenses for just a moment. We might rebel and make them share the money and leisure they have misappropriated.

We must toil and suffer to make ends meet, and often do it on borrowed money and time. No drugs for you unless they are prescribed by a doctor, and going to the doctor will cost you. If you don’t have health insurance, it will really cost you. To have health insurance, you must be a full-time worker, in a company somewhere, or with the government. Only then are you privileged to go sit in a cold room with hard chairs and used magazines, wait for an hour with a dozen sick, coughing people and screaming kids shitting in their diapers, offer your health insurance card when the time comes, make the co-payment, get a prescription, go to the pharmacy and offer your drug card. Make another co-payment. Funnel all your money, time, and happiness into the pockets of big business, which controls the politicians, which take away our rights to happiness and leisure because they are dirty mother fuckers. All of the politicians and the businessmen partaking of the scheme are dirty mother fuckers. They all feast upon our incessant labor and unhappiness as if we are at their picnic, on all fours, with a tablecloth thrown over our backs, the big business and political mother fuckers feasting upon us as if we are gladly the tables upon which their gluttony is supported.

Don’t give us the bullshit, mother fuckers. If you wanted Saliva out of our hands for safety’s sake, you’d also ban booze, and banning booze doesn’t work. That is a lesson from Prohibition, if you need the reminder of something you didn’t learn in school because you are a fucking knuckle head. That is why you are a politician or an executive.

The Mindless Generation

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 11:52:00 -0600

I hear that for the first time in the history of America, children are not going to be as prosperous as their parents. Whether this is true or not, I have recently taken it upon myself to begin testing the youth to see if their education might be the problem. In fact, I've been testing the elite of the youth with disappointing results.

At work, a bunch of twenty something accountants, all CPAs, were auditing the company's books, and I had to answer questions about selected contracts. I digressed from the matter at hand to ask the group of them, "Who is the father of accounting?" None of them could answer, "Luca Pacioli." The origins of their own discipline, they knew not.

At the gym, two young law students I often work out with asked me question after question about how they could become a corporate counsel like me. I answered their questions, but digressed by asking them, "How did John Locke influence the law?" I thought it was a simple question for law students, but neither dared offer an answer. John Locke's philosophy is an integral part of the US Constitution.

At a writers group I attend, I had a discussion with a young college couple. Both had aspirations to become great writers. "I'm hope to bring back the classic novel," one said. "I want to be known for great poetry," said the other. I digressed and asked them, "Who did Hector fight at the end of the Iliad?" "Achilles!" they both blurted out. "We have the movie at home."

It may just be me, but it seems we are losing track of the meaning and origin of things, even within our own disciplines. Perhaps we are becoming a culture of robots performing immediate tasks with great efficiency, but never stopping to think or understand. I'm not sure how this ties into children not out earning their parents for the first time, but I have a hunch there is a connection.

And for you young computer programmers out there, have you heard of Bertrand Russell?

Tribute to Gary Gygax

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 08:21:00 -0600

I will miss Gary Gygax. Because of him, my imagination is what it is today. This is all I will say because an old Dungeons & Dragons comrade has summed it up so well:

Let's drink some mead and lift our flagons
To toast the passing of the fallen lord
Who blessed our lives with Dungeons & Dragons
Which we played shamelessly, smashing shield with sword

Fall mighty beasts and crash thee to Earth
No belch of fire, lighting nor ice
We'll rip ye guts out for all they're worth
And roll naught but 20's on our favorite dice

Shed not a tear for the great lord's death
His spirit moves among the dead
His Dragon with everlasting breath
Carries on his legacy instead

Rathgar the Gray - veteran D&D gamer
Copyright © 2008. All Rights Reserved.

The Suffering US Economy

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 14:42:00 -0600

The other day, I examined my checking account and was perplexed by how low my average daily balance had become. I went through my statement’s detail to figure out how and where I’d been spending more. I discovered I was being frugal as ever, but my utilities, gasoline, and grocery costs had gone way up. I wasn’t consuming more. Everything was just more expensive.

I’m starting to feel like I’m living paycheck to paycheck, which is something I haven’t felt in over a decade. I earn a respectable living and my mortgage balance is less than my gross annual income. The car I’m driving is 15 years old. I have no other debt and I max my 401k. Funny how everyone I know who is making half my salary drives nicer, newer cars, lives in bigger houses, and goes out to eat more often than I do. How do they do it?

I hear on the news we are not in a recession, but one might be coming. God help us when it comes, because it’s bad enough right now.

So, money is tighter. Sometimes we’re more prosperous, sometimes not. I can live with that. At least I thought I could live with it until I realized part of the reason I’m suffering greater financial stress. Until quite recently, everywhere I looked, I saw nice, shiny cars, SUVs zooming to and fro as if possessed with madness, and luxurious subdivisions sprouting up overnight in every direction. Credit card applications were stuffing my mailbox full, and mall parking lots were filled to the brim, teeming:

The people out there making less money than me, but living in bigger houses and driving nicer cars have been stealing from me by living beyond their means.

BORROWED MONEY. CREDIT.

It’s simple economics. Borrowing money puts more money into the economy. The more money there is in the economy, the less each dollar is worth. So, while I’ve been putting hard-earned dollars away, driving a used car, and living in a modest house, the credit pigs out there have not been saving a nickel, have been living high on the hog, driving Hummers, living in mansions, singing and dancing the ridiculous songs of the nouveau riche. Now I pay more for things because they have eaten more than their share on credit, leaving my fair portion much smaller. My hard-earned money has been devalued!

My only solace will be watching all the pigs slaughtered in the coming years of economic woe. Now that they are fattened up on my dime, it is time to meet the butcher.

The Sinner

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 21:19:00 -0600

“I don’t know how you can live your life without God. How do you know right from wrong, good from evil?”

“You have Faith, correct? And it is your guide in choosing your appropriate actions?”

“Yes. Through Faith, I am given the ability, by God, to know right from wrong.”

“Faith? This is something you feel, right?

“Yes. It happens once you are Saved. You become able to discern good from evil, once you are Saved.”

“And Faith cannot be proven with reason? The mind cannot know it? Only the heart can take it in?”

“That’s right. Your heart must be open to Christ.”

“And this Faith you feel – this salvation, being Saved. You cannot prove it to me with facts. You can only testify to me of its power?”

“Yes. That’s it.”

“So, you are telling me that there are things we know from our hearts that cannot be proven to our minds?”

“Yes. That’s what it is all about. When our hearts find God, we know how to live.”

“Without God, you wouldn’t know how to live?”

“No. Of course not.”

“I think I understand the difference between me and you.”

“What could that be?”

“I was born with a heart that knew good from evil, right from wrong. I have always had this Faith, which guides me, which I cannot prove to you through logic or reason, but only from my heart. Because you were not born with this internal compass, you needed to find God to fill the void in your soul.”

The Talisman

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 16:52:00 -0600

There is a secret to happiness in life and it the Talisman. Only you wield it. Its power is yours alone. No one can take it away from you. No one. And you will die with it in your hands, folded in your arms.

“What is the Talisman?”

It is a different thing for each person, but before we get to the practical discussion of this matter, let’s play with metaphor. What does every wizard possess?

“I don’t know, magic?”

Yes. That’s true, but what else?

“A tall hat with stars on it and a robe?”

Yes. But what is the symbol of his power?

“A staff!”

That’s it! Through the wizard’s staff, all his powers are manifest. The staff is the wizard’s Talisman. Though it he casts his spells, fights evil, slays dragons and witches, and makes the world a better place. Do you know what the most important thing about the wizard’s staff is?

“He has it with him all the time?”

That’s a good answer, and you have pointed out another very important thing. The staff must always be in our hands. However, I was thinking the most important thing about the wizard’s staff is that he shares it with no one.

“Isn’t that selfish?”

It may seem so, at first glance, but in movies and books, when wizards fight the powers of darkness, how often do they pass their staffs around?

“They don’t. Besides, there is usually only one wizard.”

That’s right. However, the wizard might fight the dragon or Orc horde along side an elf, dwarf, and champion, each of whom possesses his own Talisman.

“Yeah! The elf has a bow, the dwarf an axe, and the champion a sword!”

That’s exactly it! Each of them is self-defined by the Talisman he bears, and each would be absurdly reduced should he have to share his Talisman. He can share anything else, even die for the cause, and give up all he has but his Talisman. We can imagine at the funerals of our heroes, should they fail, each lies in his casket with has his arms folded over and embracing his Talisman.

“Ok. I get it now, but we can’t make our Talisman a sword or a scepter these days. How does all this fit in with us in the modern day?”

My talisman is the keyboard. I write. The words I speak are solely mine. No one can take this creative power from me, make me share it, or reduce it. The keyboard is my staff and my rod, my Talisman. When I die, I will lie in the casket with my arms folded over my keyboard. At my sides will be stuffed all the stories and novels I have written. When I am alive, as long as my scepter is in my hands, I can weather all but death, well, even death too, with a smile and a nod. The workaday money may not be enough, the women may abandon me time and time again, I may lose it all and live on the streets, be put on trial, sued for all I possess, but my Talisman gives me strength without fail. All may come and go, arrive and pass away, be born, rot and decay, but I will stand strong and proud through it all, long white hair and robe lashing in the devastating wind, but my staff I will hold strong before me. My Talisman shall light the way as the darkness descends all around me.

If You Are a Young Man

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 19:56:00 -0600

If you are a young man and are pondering what to do with your life, I can offer a few suggestions because I am no longer a young man, but a man on the verge of 40. I have made mistakes I hope you wont make, and am convinced that had I done a few things differently, my remaining 40 years would have been the time in which I spent all my time devoted to my singular and most important purpose: writing.

So, what were my mistakes? In a nutshell, I did not prepare for my most vital years, the years a man has from the age of 40 to 80. These years are the most vital because I am convinced that it takes most men 40 years to accumulate all the knowledge and experience they needs to be in a position to give the best of what they can give to the world. In my case, what I have to give is my writing. Perhaps it is not good writing, but it is leaps and bounds better writing than the words I could type out at age 20 or 30.

So, what is my predicament, and as a young man how can you avoid suffering the fate I am currently suffering when you are on the verge of 40? My predicament is that I am required to work for a living, and as a result, I cannot spend all of my productive hours putting the words onto paper that will change the world. I spent my youth borrowing money to go to college. In fact, I went to college and went to college, and went to college some more, all on borrowed money, student loans. Add to this the women that tricked me into marriage, spent what money I had, and then went their merry ways, and married yet other men to swindle. Mortgages, diamond rings, student loans, the plethora, the sundry expenses, the profligacy of youth has cursed me to be nothing more than a working man until social security kicks in. Granted I am a lawyer, and I am making a good wage, on the verge of 40, but being wasteful, and profligate, and easily fooled into trading my wealth for the right to enter vaginas, but only after wedlock, has cursed me to the fate of being a workingman the remainder of my days. My only hope is that I can muster the strength to proffer my words onto paper each day, but only after working 8 to 5 just so I can eat and pay the mortgage.

On the verge of 40 may seem a distance away for you, young man, but you must ask yourself whether you want to be looking back 20 years from now and wishing you had listened to my words set forth herein.

Here is what you should do: join the military or the fire department, or any other profession that offers a retirement package upon 20 years of service. Put in your 20 years. While you are working this 20 years, don’t spend any money on women, don’t get married or have children, and go to night school. Learn as much as you can. Travel the world and see all you can see. When your 20 years are up, you will have a pension you can live on without lifting a finger for the Man ever again, that is, if you don’t have women and children to support. Then, when you are on the verge of 40 and have finally gained the requisite wisdom and figured out what you want to offer the world from your mind, heart, and soul, you will be able to spend the remainder of your years, the next 40, devoted to your cause and nothing else but YOUR SINGULAR CAUSE.

Don’t get me wrong. I know you are worried about getting laid in the meantime. This is easy. Only date rich, older women and refuse to marry them. I’ll talk about this virtue at another time.

Go and do, young man. The next 20 years will be short. A blink of the eye.

That’s all.

Proof of God, or the Question of It

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 08:48:00 -0600

Does God exist? Isn’t this a question we’ve been trying to answer for at least 10,000 years? I have a number of problems with this question, though in my opinion, I don’t think it can be properly asked in the first place. We don’t yet have enough tangible evidence to properly form the question. Asking, “Does God exist,” is to make too many bold assumptions.

Why don’t we ask, “Does a god or a number of gods exist?” Granted paganism has fallen to the wayside in modern times, but paganism assumed multiple deities, not just one. However, whenever I make this argument among my Christian friends, they scoff at me. They ask how I can be so silly. Of course there is one God, and only one. It only makes sense. Why? It is in the Bible. Skipping over the problems with tautologies, I’ll just say that in asking of God in the first place, we have a problem with numbers. How many gods are we talking about? Where is the certain proof there is only one? I won’t even get into the issue of whether we are thinking of God as a woman or man, or as a black or a white skinned entity when we ask the question. Must the gods be anthropomorphic?

There are believers that agree with what I have argued so far, but still they believe. For them, we can ask the question, “Does God exist?” because they don’t have a problem with plurality or anthropomorphism. God, for them, is the supreme power and creative force in the Universe. God is everything and everywhere. To see God as an old man with a beard, a Santa-type figure, or as a pantheon of beings, is just a metaphor that allows us to better relate to the heavens. Do you see the slippery slope? Now we are asking whether an all powerful, creative force exists. From where does gravity come? What keeps the Earth spinning and revolving around the Sun? There is order here. There has to be! But then I must ask how we know there really is order? I’ve never seen another world or universe to which we might compare this one. So where is the proof of order? The answer might be Geometry! This is proof of order. With imaginary triangles and circles we can compare the real world with the ideal world! O.k. Maybe this kind of argument works for some of us, especially if we are ancient Greeks. However, how do we traverse the gap between geometric proofs and the question of God? I do suppose it is fair to ask, “What is the origin of our ability to conceptualize a triangle?”

We can go on, and on, and on. Not even the real scholars can agree on the nature of God(s) and haven’t been able to for 10,000 years, so why assume we can do it now? My answer is to just admit the absolute complexity of it all. Admit we don’t know enough to ask the question in the first place.

All you can do to convince me otherwise is to make a bold claim of faith. “In my heart I know God is real, for I have had a revelation!” O.k. I can buy it. I’m not pompous enough to assume that just because I’ve not had a true conversion experience they don’t exist and aren’t real. I try to keep my heart and mind open. On this note, I think I’ve suddenly changed my mind. We can ask, “Does God exist?” if we can speak these words from faith rather than logic.

Training the School Shooter

Sat, 16 Feb 2008 06:58:00 -0600

There appears to be a steady flow of school shootings these days. Columbine, Virginia Tech, and NIU come to mind. Each is another horrible bloodbath, and they keep happening again and again. The answer is always the same. The killer was mentally ill. The killer had a past filled with problems. The killer stopped taking his medication. The killer wrote naughty stories. But every once in a while, at least someone else gets the blame. That gun shop dealer shouldn’t have sold the killer the guns!

It is time for us, individually and as a society, to start accepting responsibility. We are the cause of school shootings. We are the sickness. I have no proposed remedy, but I can point out a few instances of the daily madness in our lives that we have all bought into. Perhaps realizing the cause is the first step.

We have become fast moving automatons, going to and fro at lightning speed. If a gas driven engine isn’t currently propelling us down the highway, buzzers and beepers, electronic sounds, are guiding our every move. Wherever I may be, should my cell phone sound an alert, I will shut out current company and answer it. Or I am typing and sending emails, plugged into a computer through a mouse and keyboard all day, inside while the sun is shining outside. In the evenings I sit hypnotized before a large screen television. Always am I tied to a machine, and it is guiding me. I am not using it. It is using me. Should I open my eyes and unplug for a moment, or get out of the car and start walking, I will get a taste of reality that requires I begin taking medication. Should I quit taking my medication, I will become a school shooter.

If we are strong enough to endure this mechanized beehive or anthill long enough to finish school, get a job, and make money, it will never be quite enough. The system is set up to squeeze every drop of blood from my veins. Women will prey upon me, seduce me with sex, and trick me into marriage. Then my money will not be enough, so I will start living on credit. It starts with car payments, then a mortgage, and then a second mortgage. I am pinched into a vice. Half my income goes to paying the interest on my debt. Paycheck to paycheck I live, though I have a two-story house in the suburbs, a Hummer, and a Honda Accord. If I can make it to age 65, I will get social security and can reverse mortgage my home. None of the money I’ve ever earned will be mine. It has all been sucked into the banks because I have lived on borrowed time and money all my life. Maybe the children will come home for Christmas.

And this is why there is madness. This is why we are the real culprits. This is why we have School Shooters.