An interesting thing happened on the way the way through life this month. Learned another good lesson about things and the way things are. I have learned that you do not see with your eyes. The eyes are just a physical lens through which information is filtered through to your optic nerve, which sorts through all the electrical impulses and makes some sense of the physical world around you for your brain to tell your hands and body how to respond. You really can’t see with your eyes any more than you can read these words on a monitor detached from a hard drive. You have to be connected.
Now, I found this out because one fine day, my nerves decided to take a sabbatical. No vision, upper right eye. No pain. Vacation weekend…hmm. Probably a migraine – let’s forget about it. Go on to have fantastic getaway up north, albeit on ¾ vision. However, having to drive in the dark in the rain on the way home was terrifying, not being able to see, and with the lights doing funky things in my remaining vision, and it was decided that we should probably get some medical input on the situation. Sunday evening, then, after arriving home and getting Phil in bed, we head out to the local ER.
Detatched retina. That was the diagnosis that evening. It was after midnight, and so they set up an early morning appointment with an ophthalmologist in Milwaukee. Upon arrival, it was pretty much agreed that this was the problem, but upon exam the evidence turned up otherwise. My retinas a fine. Field of vision test. MRI with gadolinium. Fifteen vials of blood. Yes, I’m making a long journey short.
After looking at the MRI, the actual diagnosis is optic neuritis. Apparently there is some inflammation on my optic nerve, causing shorts in the system. While my vision is a complete field again, it’s cloudy at times, too bright at others – kind of like a flash went off in your face and you can’t see real well? Sometimes there are very interesting flashes of light and bouncing balls. The fun part, however, is when my perfectly healthy eyes are taking in information, and my nerves decide to scramble the information coming in from each eye. Some information goes this way, some goes that way, and some just disappears from the screen. Signals are sent to the brain and body that register as spinning and twirling. My hands will drop what they are holding in a vestigial response to falling. If I am talking, my words begin to slur, as it feels for a brief time that I am in a centrifuge, and the gravity is pulling my tongue and brain off to one side. I figure it’s best just to shut up,because I sound ridiculous. Much easier if I just close my eyes and let it pass. Which up to this point it invariably does. And then I recompose, pick up what I dropped and carry on with my regularly scheduled life.
So the treatment for this is a three day IV cocktail of methylprednisolone, followed by an oral prednisone taper for 8 days. Wonderful stuff! (not). After the fun of an IV, you get a burning pain in your arm, a mouth that tastes like you are sucking on a penny, a response in your gastric system that is completely foreign, fatigue you have not known since childbirth, and night sweats that have you waking up with your fingers pruned up like you’ve been in the tub and sheets that need to be changed before you can go back to bed. Throw in a spinal tap mid-treatment and call it a week. When will this end?
So, what exactly do you do when your nerves decide to take a holiday? Or get inflamed?Go on strike? Not perform as expected? Suddenly I’m on the shocked side of what I take for granted every day. Nerves are supposed to WORK right. How dare they not! I mean, whose side are you on, anyway? Where in my control center do I tell my nerves to knock this shit off? Get back to work and do it right! I’m giving you all you need, I’ve got a clean bill of health, I eat right, I exercise – all the good stuff. I can still dead-lift 120 pounds out of a wheelchair for heavens sake. Carefully at that. What’s with the slacking off?
As I interrogate my nerves, my poor eyes are like, “Hey, it’s not our fault!”. And I realize it’s true. Got great eyes. Yeah, they are nearsighted and farsighted, but they are 100% functional. It’s that pesky nerve. And so I’m standing in the kitchen, washing dishes. Cleaning out the pan I cooked the granola in, scrubbing the bottom of it. Suddenly the dish soap bottle doubles, as does the scrubbie next to it. But instead of just stopping, I begin to think: This is NOT as it seems. The room is not, in fact, spinning. Gravity is still functioning the way it was just a second ago. I am still in an upright position. There is only one bottle of Dawn sitting in front of me. My eyes are seeing things the way they are, but my optic nerve is telling me lies. So I take these thoughts, and I close my eyes against the false information, and I concentrate on my hands. I can feel the crumbs and debris of the baked on wheat germ on the bottom of the pan. I can feel the warmth of the water. Despite the fact that my hands want to drop the rag and wait out the spin, I am forcing little bits a pieces of my brain to focus – focus - focus – on what I am doing, and how I am doing it. Slow down if necessary, but push forward. Make other parts of your brain connect and put the pieces of information in the correct context. And in a few seconds, it’s over, and I feel like I’ve just taken a tiny bit of control back from my impish nerves. Wait until it happens again, and practice – maybe I don’t need my eyes as much as I think.
Maybe this is the concrete example of what it means to walk by faith and not by sight. It’s more than a little disconcerting to realize that all may or may not be as it seems. That while your eyes cannot deceive you, your nerves sure can mess with you and your whole concept of reality. It can distort and twist and bend your perceptions, and cause you to make decisions based upon what is not, in fact, happening or true. To what do you turn when you realize that what you are seeing could all be a lie? What, then, is true? Where then is your faith, and what exactly is it in?
Here’s a personal interest question: How many of you have ever played Monopoly to the very end of the game? I’m currently running a poll to find out just how many people have ever done so. If you have never done so, here’s how it works.
Everyone gets allotted the same amount of money at the beginning of the game, and a token to represent themselves. You then roll the dice, cruise around the board, buy up as much property/assets as you can, proceed to build on it, screw the next guy who lands on it with rents that keep going up and up until people can’t afford to stay on your property. They then go into debt, mortgage off their properties, until they are totally out of money, at which time they auction off what’s left, pay what they can on the debt, and are declared bankrupt and leave the game.
No, really – this is a GAME, and it’s called MONOPOLY…it is not, in fact, a brief run-down on American economics.
While I am supportive to an extent of the protests on Wall Street, might I make a gentle suggestion that you pack up your torches and tents and go home? We really need to think about this.
Travel with me, if you will…way out into space and time and take a good, hard, objective view of what has happened here. It’s all been a grand game of Monopoly. The whole American Landscape is littered with the slums of Baltic Avenue and the opulence of Boardwalk and Park Place. You have all the properties in between, including the Utilities.Despite the fact that you are not supposed to get anything on the “Free Parking” space, we have integrated a Lottery into the mix, too! Keeps you in the game a bit longer, that’s for sure!
Sound familiar? Now bump it up a notch or two – fast-forward and guess where we are sitting? Yup – close to GAME OVER. Look around the American Monopoly Board.There are the haves – the few left playing the game. I believe they are referred to as the 1%? And even though the banker (The Fed) has had the freedom to print the money they are playing with, the fact is, when someone has ALL the money, then the game is over. And according to popular statistic, we are down to 1%. That means 99% of us are now the have-nots; out of the game, sitting on the sidelines with nothing to show for our efforts but debt.
So what happens next? Well, you tell me? What DOES happen next? I’ve played Monopoly to the end many times. Sometimes I’ve won it all. Sometimes I’m out of the game fairly early. But I do stay and watch, having a morbid fascination with it. But here’s what happens next: The Game ends.
The money only had value as we were squabbling over it. As soon as we were all out of the game, Uncly Pennybags ended up with all the money and suddenly, it was worthless.
Yes, imagine that! After all the cut-throat wheeling-and-dealing, now that someone managed to get a hold of everything on the board…no one wants to play anymore. We want to put the paper bills and tokens back into the box, put it on the shelf, and walk away from the debt that was so important an hour ago, and enjoy the rest of our evening.
I have realized this by sitting down, looking at my financial life closing up over me and swallowing me whole. Holy Shit! I feel like DeCaprio on the Titanic as she goes down for the last time…”THIS IS IT!!”. Wise instructions follow in the monolog: Take a deep breath, hold it, keep on kicking, and don’t let go of my hand.
So, say it with me: Money only has the value that WE ASSIGN TO IT, both collectively and individually. Think about that for a minute. Supply and demand. When everybody WANTS it, the value rockets up. Think Cabbage Patch Dolls. When nobody wants it anymore, watch the value plummet to the point where you can’t give it away. Think Beanie Babies. Imagine 99% of us not wanting the paper dollar anymore. Just imagine that.
Survey Says 1% of the folks have most the money. Why the hell do the 99% still want it? At this point there are surely more of us who have been evicted from the game – our lives, actually – and yet still place value on this paper shit? Why? Isn’t it about time we start a new game, with a different valuation system? Perhaps one which is a better reflection of the 99%?
I know – (all too well) – the immediate “whys”, like I’m kind of fond of living in a home, with heat and electric and eating food…little things like that. Things which we are all trained to believe we have to pay for…rather than do for ourselves, like our grandparents only a few generations removed had to do.
But realize this! Do you see the freedom in being let go from the game? You don’t have to play it anymore. You don’t have to think about it anymore. It’s no mystery to those who have filed bankruptcy in real life – the relief is palpable.
But what if 99% of us just decided that we don’t WANT that version of money to have VALUE? What if we just said, “Fuck it…you want it - you keep it. I quit.”What should we do instead? What would we place that VALUE ENERGY into, rather than money? Why wouldn’t we invest it into PEOPLE?Into PLACES for people?
I submit to you that as we approach GAME OVER, we can either change the platform we are standing on right now, or it will be changed for us when the game ends – and from the looks of things, it’s not going to end well either way.
Face it – 99% versus 1%?Great if you are 1% with a chance of winning the game. Not so great if the losers are pissed off. And trust me, 1% - they are very, very pissed off. And when the game is over, and your money is found to be Monopoly money – there’s a bunch of very disgruntled 99%ers who have not realized it was all a Game in History, and they will be gunning for your ass. Cover it well, my 1% friend...cover it well.
While this Food For Thought has been abbreviated to the very core and lacks detail, please ponder it. And while this may seem overly simplistic, to pursue such an objective is no more pie-in-the-sky than picketing Wall Street thinking that it will change the way things are.
While watching my boat sink into the cold waters of the North Atlantic of the American Dysfunctional Economy, I have had lots and lots of time to think about the nuts and bolts of how we can rebuild what will be left of this fragile nation once the gold turns to ashes. I’m not about the throw my ideas about it out there like pearls before swine. What I’m looking for is people who see this for what it is – and have something inside their very soul that says, yes…let’s do something about this. I am looking for those who understand that we need to think of a new “Game” to play – one that ends financial competition, and brings the inhabitants of this planet together in concrete, intelligent and tangible ways. A game in which all men are indeed created equal, and they maintain equality through the mutual respect which is fostered in a reciprocating, need-meeting energy system.
I’ve been plagued by a problem of late with which has stymied my doctors, as they can find no reason for it, so I just live with it. But because I believe that there are no accidents, and that life doesn’t happen to us – it happens for us…I have been in quest of the reason for this malady, and what message and gift it is bringing me. The problem is dizziness – everything from extreme, nauseating vertigo at times, to just a tilting sensation, that will occasionally send me walking shoulder first into walls, and knees first into furniture. Kind of embarrassing at times, as I think I must look quite like a drunk – which is not the way I want to portray myself at Wal-Mart at 10:00 in the morning!
So yesterday was not a good day in the whirling and twirling department, and I almost passed up the opportunity to walk our dogs down the railroad tracks beside our house on a crisp, cool, perfect fall morning. It would have been much easier to just stay at the computer writing, or puttering in the kitchen, whose 12 x 6 feet of space is far more forgiving than the wide open tracks. But I donned my walking boots and went anyway – feeling a bit like I was playing hooky from the three 5-gallon pails of pears that need to be put into jars!
I was listing starboard as we walked through the park and onto the tracks. By the time we reached them, however, I felt like I had a handle on the spins. It was a short-lived feeling of balance. As soon as we got onto the tracks, I realized that in order to maintain my balance and not trip and fall, I had to stare directly down at my feet, and the railroad ties underneath them. Some ties that were very old and in poor repair left treacherous shelves and ledges which threatened to send me tumbling if I took my eyes off them for even a step. Every now and again I would look up – after all, the colors on the turning trees and gatherings of birds were half the ambiance of a walk in the cool air! How could I enjoy this walk without being able to glance about?
I was, at first, more than a little frustrated by the whole thing, and almost decided to rain on everyone’s parade and suggest we put this off for another time. But all it took was to look at the dogs – tails wagging, tongues hanging out, smiling from ear to ear – to change my mind and tough it out. And I’m so glad I did.
As we walked slowly along, I had to content myself with the view at my feet. Stones, tie, stones, tie…over and over and over…one foot after another. The rails themselves seemed to collapse inward onto my scope as I walked along. When I would tire of the view, I would look up, and promptly start to lean in one direction or the other, balance myself on Mark’s arm, and look down again. So rather than be disappointed, I made the conscious choice to look upon this as a lesson in the learning.
I began to focus first on the railroad ties. How old were they, anyway? Look at the different ways they decayed or held together. What made some of them sturdy and strong, while others looked feeble and weak, and had you questioning their ability to hold the rails in place? Where did they cut them from? What kind of trees were they? What happened to the rest of them? How come some of them bled creosote and oil, while others appeared dry? In short, they became a source of interest – something to think about, to ponder, to notice.
Then I began to focus on the rocks between the ties. What a geological find! There were stones and rocks of every representation. Some of them were sharp, granite flakes that looked like chips off the old tombstone. Some were flaky lime with stratified layers. Some clearly had spent a century or two under water somewhere, and were as round and smooth as marbles. A whole new set of ponderings accompanied my contemplation of the rocks. Awesome.
And then there were my feet. Step one, left, right, a little longer step, a little shorter step, another step…over and over. Balance while looking down and calculating each foots safe landing became far easier.
And then I began to think about my life. How much this is just like that. I want a smooth path that is effortless to walk on, so I can gaze around and notice all the trees and leaves and flowers and fields. The blue sky; the full moon on a summer night; the deer grazing in the field at dusk. I want to look out over the horizon at the sunset, and not think about what’s under my feet and where they will step.
But my road is not like that. There is not much to be had in the way of smooth travels. It’s rocky and precarious. And perhaps because of a lack of balance, I am forced to look down – at my here and my now. At my each and every step. Not just to make sure my feet have a safe landing – but to appreciate and savor all the little details that make my road resemble more of an old railroad than a country lane – or even a super highway.
The path that I am on is paved with millions of stones – each one unique, with a history and story all its own. Each represents an incident, a person, a teaching, an experience – from the smallest of details to the largest of impacts. They all make my road what it is. Varied and diverse – old and new – together they form the road that is mine to take. All it takes is a consciousness of them to actually appreciate them!
The ties are my points of stability. It’s much easier to gain footing on them than it is on the rocks. Some have stood the test of time. Others…not so much. Some are the stability that makes me feel very balanced – but life is not static, and so I move to the next one, which may or may not have weathered as well, and may or may not be a place where I can rest my foot for any length of time. And so on to the next, and so on, and so on.
Which leads me to ask myself the question: Where am I going, anyway?
Today's answer was: Home. We were out for a short walk, and the destination was home again after some exercise and fresh air. And so at what we determined was the half-way point, we turned back around, and headed toward home.
Like a horse that sees his stable from the end portion of the trail, I really wanted to pick up the pace. I had food to can. I don’t want to look at anymore rocks or ties or narrowing rails. Just want to pick up the pace and get home to can my pears. But, like my life again, just when I think I have the greatest idea, the Universal brakes go on, and I am asked, “Where are you going in such a hurry? Want to see the coolest rocks ever? Slow down – enjoy your experience, and appreciate what it is I’m showing you. In this, there is balance!”
I look up one more time. I got smart this time – I stopped walking to do it! Up ahead about a half mile was the overpass bridge where we started. It symbolized HOME. And is sure seemed like a LONG way off! With a sigh, I bowed my head again, looked at the ties and rocks and my very own feet and started toward it.
I began to think of things I have heard over the years – inspirational things that pertained to our road of life, our faith, our beliefs – our quality of life here on the planet. I began to think that perhaps it was far better to spend my time this morning contemplating the meaning of rocks and railroad ties than it was to dwell on the bills I can’t pay, or the colds that are running through the kids and the house. Maybe today is better spent appreciating the fact that I have two feet that work quite well for all their aching and paining and despite the dizziness issuing from the head where the controls are.
I had recently heard author Jack Canfield point out that you can drive all the way from New York to California in the dark – as long as you have headlights to illuminate the next 200 feet or so. And I gave that quite a bit of thought. Here on the tracks, with my inner ears giving me grief, I couldn’t even see 200 feet ahead! But I was guided by the rails, I had the best companions I could have hoped for, and they could see clearly what was up ahead. The important thing for me now was just to maintain my balance – and have faith in the Universe and its laws – and trust my traveling companions. And I will make it HOME.
I thought about the beauty I missed on a daily basis, because perhaps I have been too forward focused – trying to direct the forces of the Universe, instead of allowing it to reveal its order to me. Have I been so busy trying to engineer my life that I am resisting the flow of the Universe? Have I been overlooking the very building blocks of my life’s puzzle because I’m too busy staring at the picture on the box? Have I spent more time complaining that I don’t have the birds-eye-view and the long term solutions to my problems than I have being grateful for all that I AM, and all the little things that make life interesting and rich?
I realized then that it’s not until I can maintain my balance reckoning the little details of life that I will be able to look up with steadiness and see that – hey…there’s the bridge! We are almost home!
Only two dozen men~those who journeyed to the moon~have seen this view of Earth. You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, "Look at that, you son of a bitch." ~Edgar Mitchell, Apollo 14 astronaut
Someone posted this picture and quote on Facebook the other day, and I couldn’t help but repost it. Immediately. Because I’m just sick inside, and I honestly don’t think I’m alone.
Perhaps because I live a relatively closed off life, I think I see things differently. I see them just the way this astronaut saw them at that moment – from a place far removed from the turmoil in the trees, perched on a cliff far outside the forest. I see a bigger picture – one divorced from all the divisions among humankind as they proceed to screw up a perfectly good planet.
Understanding that I, too, am one of these humans, I am quite prepared to take responsibility for my part in all this. And since I am, it gives me the right to pose the same question to every one of my fellow humans.
Question one for you to ponder: Are all men created equal, as defined by either your Creator, your religion, your government or your constitution?
Well, no matter what camp you come from, if you are an authentic person, you really have to answer yes. Even an atheist will have to give biological credit to the function of the species. Every human is an amazing work of art; an amazing machine, and has a seeming limitless potential.
Then how is it we can give a mere pitiful glance in the direction of Somali parents having to abandon their dying children in the desert, and express pure outrage over someone wanting to take away your union’s collective bargaining rights?
How is it that we can eat our continental breakfast while reading about the riots in London, but press every panic button on the controls when a hurricane comes ashore and threatens our real estate?
How can we view a few losses to our portfolio as something on par with having no food, no water, no nation to call home?
Obviously, we are affected by what is in the sphere of our influence, the fabric of OUR lives. But the fact is that what we’ve all been trained to do now for the last generation or so in America is to believe that we are somehow more important than other people. Not just us as a nation – no – us individually. And while we are generous to a financial fault at “helping” these third world nations, we are not doing it because we think it’s really all that important, and we certainly don’t do it correctly. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to send Hitler some money to care for the Jews in the concentration camps, now, does it?
But let’s back up the train. Let me guess that you read this and find yourself exempt. No – not me! I am the epitome of a caring, Christian, loving, person, who cares about the world situation! Yeah…me, too. But honestly, I will be far more freaked out when my cell phone bill arrives with an extra $50 on it than I will be over reading about a widow who left two of her not-quite-dead children under a tree “to their God”, because she only had enough water for the baby on her hip.
This is simply not REAL to me. It’s not happening in my back yard – hell, it’s not even on my continent! If it happened in America, we would tell the bitch she had no excuse and we’d sic Child Social Services on her ass and throw her in jail! Why? Because we have access to things like, oh, food and water. When was the last time YOU were utterly grateful for that?
And now we have…Uh-oh…moral relativism. Is it EVER right to leave your sick, dying children under a tree and keep walking? Think with me now my logical friends: It will depend on the variables within the circumstances! One woman we want to embrace and comfort – the other we want to crucify and see burn in eternal hell. For the same act.
Now this is where I come in. I’m a writer. It’s what I DO. And what I can do within the scope of my art is generate feeling in you. I can write the above story in any setting I want, and I can make you mad as hell, or make you cry your eyes out. I can manipulate the words, the context, the quotes I use…the possibilities are endless to an author.
As such, however, I have to ask myself from time to time, “Am I being honest?” Is what I am writing serving a nobler purpose on the planet? Or am I just fearmongering? Am I spiteful, mean, arrogant, rude? Am I seeking to ruffle feathers or calm a sea? And it goes even further than that. Let me explain.
I spent 15 years separated from the main stream of society. I watched only Packer games on TV (as this was through the 90s, and they were winning). I was living a conservative, Christian, communal, self-sufficient lifestyle. I had a whole bunch of kids. We preached to a whole lot of other Christians. But we remained separate. I have always been a reader, but certain subjects are off-limits to a good, practicing Christian. So for years we dined on a smorgasbord of conservative, Christian literature and recorded media. A steady diet of the Bible and thou shalls and thou-shalt-nots.
Then, for reasons outside the scope of this writing, it fell apart and I found myself on the wrong end of the Christian gun. Imagine my dismay when I found that virtually everything we read, believed and lived was only one side of the picture.
“No excuse for divorce”doesn’t quite roll off the preaching tongue as well when you are the one who tripped and fell over a legitimate reason to end your marriage.
“Never a reason for abortion” comes looking for its validation when it’s YOUR kid that comes home raped and pregnant and says she doesn’t want to carry the child. Suddenly, YOU are the one accosted at the clinic for merely seeking information. It’s quite the mind-fuck to run into your past self on the picket line, let me tell you.
Oh – this list is endless. But you see, I read it, and I believed it. I swallowed it without chewing. I was, in fact, manipulated by the writings of others, owing to the fact that I never set foot in the “other camp”. All I knew about “them” was what I was taught about “them”, whoever “them” may be.
Love the episode of South Park (which, by the way, critical thinkers owe it to themselves to watch a few episodes, despite is crassness) where the neighborhood know-it-all confidently states, “Having never done drugs, I KNOW they are bad!”
I came to a realization that the mindset that shaped my life to that point has been myopic at best, and terribly judgmental and harmful at worst. It propagated an “Us vs. Them” mentality that truly has no place in the human world. We are ALL…US. And I also had to accept that my warped education had everything to do with a steady diet of the same stuff – day in and day out, wrapped in ever-so-humble packages of biased writings with God-credited jimmies sprinkled on top.
So let me ask you…how do you think that made me feel, knowing that I could be so snowed by what I read? What I ended up believing? We believe what we read, and we judge before we have all the facts, don’t we?
Lest you do not think this is true of yourself, let me ask you what your feelings are on the way the President is handling the current financial crisis we face? How about the stock market? How about Lindsay Lohan, or whatever fallen starlet is in the news this week? All I need to do is read some of the feedback on the news feeds to see that we all have developed an opinion, one way or another. But ask yourself – how did I come to this opinion? Do you KNOW Mr. Obama? Have you spoken with him? Did YOU get a chance to sit down and listen to him explain what he is or was thinking at any given time? I doubt it. Do you know if he’s a really upstanding guy with compassion, or an abject asshole? No – you don’t. You know only what you have been told. What you have read. If you read something from a supporting journalist, he’s the new Messiah. If you read something from the right, he’s the antichrist. The fact is, you do not have enough facts to know what his personal motives are for anything.
And the same is true for most of what you see, read, and hear in the media. And you have bought it. And you have sold it – on your Facebook pages, at your kitchen tables, to your children. My kids came home from school outraged about what Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker wanted to do with the unions to trim the budget. But did ANY of them even know how a union functions? Nope. But apparently their teacher did, and she let all of her students know that not only was SHE right, but that Scott Walker was wrong. About what, they weren’t quite sure, but the mood in school that day was dour, and therefore it HAD to be true.
I read another post on Facebook today that had to do with lying: “Lying has to be one of the most destructive and deliberate forms of manipulation there is. It destroys trust. It destroys friendships, families and relationships. It destroys credibility. It shows contempt, disrespect and/or hatred for others.”
I couldn’t agree more – and my next thought, which I elected not to post was, “And my, how our government and media lead the way for us to do it better and better all the time.”
Now bear in mind that I am what I fondly think of as a political atheist. I think (my opinion, here) that career politicians are NOT the ones for ANY job in politics. My solution to so much of what ails this country is for our representatives to serve pro bono. Oh, sure – give them a stipend so they can do their business in Washington, but I’m thinking that means meals catered by Doris’ Chuck Wagon Catering, accommodations at the Super 8 and coach class airline tickets. Then we will see who REALLY wants to represent YOU.
The reality of this is that no one in politics represents you as long as their job represents that by which they maintain their standard of living. Their first priority is to maintain their job. And if they have to suck up to the rich guys who pay for their campaigns to keep their job, then they WILL do this. It’s not like I’m making this up. It’s the nature of the beast.
They will sit and discuss the policies affecting our 1-star citizenry at 5-star restaurants. They are in touch with “the people” alright – when seen from the lofty hills of Washington as a mob – as cattle – as sheep – as that which they must keep happy in order to keep order. They don’t know YOU, your address, your little street, your job, your family. Nope – you are part of the collective crowd. They don’t care about your union or your insurance. They care only about how to keep the member of their contributing sponsors and party leadership happy. Unions contribute to Democrats, so the democratic candidate has to be “pro-union”. It doesn’t matter if half the constituency is working in the private sector. The big business in this country is largely Republican – and thus would rather not have their taxes raised if they are to donate as generously to the republican candidate – and therefore, the pressure to vote against taxation of the “rich” is in their best interest. None of their decisions are necessarily in our best interest.
In fact, the point I am making is that we have ALL been duped and LIED TO. Whatever side of the line you fall on, you’ve been suckered and scammed. You’ve been lead to believe that this nation is on the mend, rebounding, that all this consumerism is a good thing – and just keep on consuming! That we are America and that we will go happily on forever and ever! As if the history of the world has no fallen empires in the story?
When you look at all the wars that we are currently engaged in – and I define war as anywhere you feel you need to put our military muscle – you have to wonder why? Whose idea was that? Did your congressman or Senator send out a little flyer and ask whether or not you were really in favor of sending our troops into yet another country to engage in business that is decidedly NOT ours? Naw – they just served you up another American Idol episode, and you didn’t think about it. No – they are not out of touch with us, people. They know exactly where we will be on any given evening: Glued to the tube, or the news – and force feeding you commercials that will undermine your very person, not to mention your way of life.
Ever wonder why you don’t see commercials for super luxury items? Because the people who buy them aren’t watching TV! They are still at the office at 10 p.m. swinging one more deal, or sleeping because a day in their life starts early. You don’t see John Deere Tractors advertised either. Because farmers who need them and can buy them don’t have time to watch TV either. No – they know the demographic, and if YOU are among the proletariat who is engrossed in the evening news, the nightly television faire, and the commercials therein – might I suggest that it might be time for a little self-examination?
You are being lied to. You are being manipulated. Read the above quote on lying to find out what those who are lying to you are actually doing. And let me ask you…are you okay with that?
In more than one family in this nation, there are across the table a democratic teacher, whose paycheck has been eaten into in unexpected ways, and a republican real estate broker, whose business is down – due to no fault of his own – a full 80%, and whose tax bracket has him strapped to pay his taxes. Both of whom just want to keep food on the table and the kids in decent shoes and clothes. One accuses the other’s party of attempts at sabotaging the other. And so it goes on, as they both spout the rhetoric of the current media bias. And this is where I want to do an astronaut maneuver, grab them both by the scruff and zip them a quarter-million miles away to see what I see: We are all on the same team!! What are you doing by perpetuating the idea that it’s “us” against “them”? There is no them! There is only US.
I will stop short of going on about a conspiratorialist view of history and the future…educate yourself and draw your own conclusions about that. But my original question to you, my fellow human being, what is YOUR responsibility in all of this?
No, you and I don’t run the nation. People like me can barely run their own household, much less a municipality. But what IS our role in all of this? What can we realistically do to try and turn this tide? Stay tuned for the next segment…this is where it gets interesting!
