Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Freedom's Just Another Word for Don't Listen to the Hype

That Kristofferson line in Bobby McGee about "another word for nothin left to lose" never did set well with me. I think I get it, but still don't like it much.

Anyway, the oldest man is 114. From what I read he is not out of it or ultra frail. Maybe it is worth living as if all the stereotypical stuff we're fed is just so much drivel. Ignore it. At least for me, that is the only course other than planning an early demise. And for God's sake, quit with the terminology. Senior this, those zany seniors, blablabla. I really think it is slave state talk and mentality that convinces people to assign themselves into stupid blocks like that.

Either you are a child or an adult Beyond that forget it. Even the concept of retirement is sort of an industrial age invention. In the family based agrarian world I guess people took on tasks they could and if they couldn't they did other things.

Certainly they did not hold up a calendar and say, "OK, you are now 65 and time to sit down and shut up. Well, maybe people didn't live so long, but the point stands. Those Russian yogurt people lived a long time and they were not industrial regimented types who called one another senior citizens and all that.

It's nice that people could work for a set time then call it quits and receive a pension, however the system got to be somewhat peculiar I think. Government involvement is largely a scam. But it is so entrenched that many wonder what would we do without their programs and care. Never mind that life would be somewhat different if they hadn't become involved, hadn't instituted income tax and complicated hoops through which we jump. People are different so some at 60 are like others at 95. Can't manufacture a cookie cutter model like is pushed on us.

There are a number of people who don't fall into any media concept of private or public sector. We are private but not under the company-pays-my-wages model. And not under the model of someone who does an independent thing for years. (Although, those people are rarer and rarer due to the BS they endure for the "privilege" of being their own boss. Rarer in crafts type fields, instruction and such. I wouldn't be a piano teacher in today's environment. You could get accused of anything and go to hell before clearing your name.) Vagabonds of a sort are the ones somewhat like me. Little of this, little of that, but never got married to any job for the xyz corporation for life. And don't get government aid. Unless we lied, we probably wouldn't qualify. I don't think I could wait in line then deal with a condescending clerk anyway. Just slit my throat instead.

In my case, I still have faith that I will find the inspiration and energy to launch one or more schemes that pay off. I hope to avoid ever taking a dime from a government program. Some people have to, that is how it is set up. Not dissing them, just expressing my wish for myself. It is hard to avoid as it is almost a requirement in certain circumstances.

My idea of proper redistribution of wealth is this; I give you a good honest reason to pull money from your pocket and place it in mine. All voluntarily, of course. I'm a huge fan of that model of wealth redistribution.

I figure my best bet for good income is advising parents on the ins and outs of raising children. Someone who has actually raised children is too close to the issue. Outsiders like myself are the best ones to give advice. Besides, there are cases in which the kid should be shipped off to a deserted island and left there with maybe a pocket knife, a candle and some chewing gum. Abandon the miscreant. Best thing for his teachers, friends, neighbors, etc. You know such demons yourself, but it takes a detached clinician to state the facts so boldly.

Maybe I'll put out a book and include the audio version from the get go. In many cases the kid would learn better values and receive a better education marooned on a deserted island than in his present environment. Kind of makes me envious. Wish my parents had been astute enough to do that for me.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day

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