Coyote Afternoon

The other day, yesterday to be precise, I found myself harboring what may have been a border jumper. I was way out east, near Boulevard, CA, on Highway 80, no doubt THEE Eighty in local parlance. The naked Buddhist retreat is somewhere in that area but I forget where so I did not go check it out. In some places you can see the border fence between Mexico and the USA.

I was driving east and decided I'd gone plenty far enough.

A mile or two before turning around, I saw a guy walking on the side of the road. He looked pretty tired and like the heat was getting to him. I kept going--he was walking west.



After turning around I saw a border patrol jeep by the side of the road stopped--not an uncommon sight.

After traveling west another mile I caught up to the pedestrian mentioned previously. Thee Eighty is two lane and there is not much of anything out there. You hit a few tiny towns consisting of a few buildings and dwellings, but that is it. No stoplights. No nothing for the most part.

This time the pedestrian, who was walking on the left hand side of the road stuck his thumb high in the air. "Please give me a ride", was what he seemed to be thinking. My car was loaded with junk, laundry, all kinds of stuff, including on the front passenger seat. Who knows why I stopped. I guess I thought I'd hate to be walking out there and would appreciate a ride if I was the one hitch hiking.

By the time he got around to the passenger side and I opened the door, he seemed like he could hardly stand. Not drunk, just very thirsty and tired. I cleared the debris from the seat and he got in.

No luggage, no gun, no bundle of belongings. And no English. My Spanish is a bit rusty. It takes me some time before I am able to understand or communicate. I have to be around it awhile. Even so, I managed to get some information.

He wanted to go to LA. I think he had a friend or relative there. He had been walking for three days. From Mexico. The guy appeared to be rather clueless regarding immigration issues or the fact that if he kept going on that road, he would walk into a check point. If he jumped up to Thee Eight he would also walk into a checkpoint.

Soon enough I figured out that I was transporting an illegal alien. Why did you leave Mexico, I asked in something akin to Spanish. For work, was the reply in what was definitely Spanish. Oh boy. I hate to encourage the immigration problem, but something in me caused my first reaction to be how to get this guy past the MAN. Unbelievable.

He was not a thug, and probably had a relative or friend in LA who said, come here, Amigo. They pay money for work. Easy to get work here.

My view of the mess is that, number one; the 14th amendment was never intended to provide for the anchor baby loophole. That amendment came shortly after the Civil War to prevent the temptation to not recognize the citizenship of freed slaves or any other Black people living here. The bastardization of that amendment through faulty interpretation and application has caused much problem.

The other problem is that no one but US citizens or legal aliens should benefit from social security, welfare or public education. Anything other is just not sustainable.

And lastly, if we did away with the income tax debacle, going to a consumption tax, as described in the Fair Tax initiative, issues of tax and all that would be moot. It would make it easier to produce goods here and hire whoever will work.

Of course, you always run into various complications, but those things would improve the situation immensely, much to the chagrin of La Raza and other power hungry groups who are about their own desired tyranny, not the people they pretend to love.
Some of the la raza folks seem confused that La Raza began when an Aztec woman(some would say a traitor to her people) befriended the evil Spaniard Cortez, giving rise to The Race, unique to Mexico. There is a holiday there commemorating the event. Of course Aztec was only one ethnicity there, and Aztecs destroyed or conquered and incorporated many other groups, as well. But the race, La Raza was born, and to the pride of those who descended from its creation.


Anyway, I felt that I was in potential trouble if I carried my pal to a check point. If I didn't just throw him to the agents, then I'd be in trouble, I'm sure. In any case they would probably want to converse with me for a longer time than I desired. My guess was, I'd be fried for driving Mr Alien no matter what.

My decision was to go as far as I could without hitting a check point and drop him somewhere I thought safer than the side of a road traveled heavily by border patrol vehicles. I dropped him at Acorn Casino, a nice little facility in the middle of nowhere, adjacent to both Thee 8 and Thee 80, which is large enough that a savvy visitor could remain fairly unnoticed, grab a little food, and get out of the sun.

When he entered my car, I produced a gallon container of water because he was so dry he could hardly speak. He drank at least half the gallon in maybe twenty minutes. He never asked me for anything. He did call someone on his cell phone--a prepaid Mexican unit, I'm guessing. I caught bits and pieces. The person on the other end seemed worried that he was in the car with a stranger---"but the senor gave me water!" That part I did catch.

I tried to alert him about the checkpoints, suggested that there would be Spanish speaking people who worked in the casino, and good luck.

Then I checked out a country road for the heck of it. After a few minutes I decided it went nowhere so I turned around. As I passed the casino to continue west on Thee Eighty, I noticed a Border Patrol jeep heading up the drive to the casino complex. Then another.

I hope they just go there for fuel, or to get some coffee. There is nothing else nearby so that is a possibility. Oddly, I hope no one called them.

The guy was probably in his mid twenties, and little chubby and only had the clothes on his back. What is really nuts is that since he asked me for nothing, I asked if he had cash to buy himself some food. He had nothing, apparently, so I gave him some money. What am I doing? I have no money to burn. I'm pretty sure he was hungry and had not eaten in awhile. Dumb as it sounds, I had a good feeling about the guy and it seemed OK.

He was too far from the car when I realized he still had the bits of leaves and such on his back from sleeping on the ground. I regretted not being able to advise him to get the evidence knocked off of his shirt.

I'm opposed to sanctuary cities and all that stuff, but I guess, like charitable endeavors, I deal one on one, case by case. But I wouldn't force anyone else to do so based on my wish or judgement. That is where I am diametrically opposed to most of the people who use political and governmental power to exercise their benevolence. They are using resources which belong to others, claiming them as their own to dispose of as they see fit. Wrong thing to do in my book.

This is the sort of thing that has to go. I give no credence to complaining leeches and thugs. My pal is not like that


Anyway, we never even exchanged names. I thought if I got stopped and knew his name, claiming that I didn't understand anything he said and had no idea he was a wetback would be harder to sell.

How weird. I was coyote. Transporting an undocumented non-worker. I guess that is what you call an undocumented worker who has no work. The thug lobbyist groups hate the phrase, "illegal alien", but if you are from another country, you are considered an alien and if you aren't here by legal means, you are here illegally, hence the classification, illegal alien. It is neither racist, xenophobic nor demeaning. Just the way it is.

But, I still hold that changing some of the root issues which are problematic would do wonders. People rarely want to look at that, though. Crime pays better and eliminating the incentive doesn't fly. La Raza, the unions, and most politicians do not want to improve the world and promote freedom.

Decriminalizing drugs like marijuana might help as well, and then take a real good look at how inner cities and gangs are handled might be in order. It is not being handled effectively, but they at least have succeeded in perpetuating racial and class hatred. That is exactly how those groups want it. It is the livelihood of the LaRazas, the Jesse Jacksons, Al Sharptons, all race based groups and charlatans claiming to champion those they keep angry, not free thinking, envious, etc. They are the racists, and ones who think they are the elite.

I'm hoping my friend, whom I've dubbed Manny, is at least comfortable and not thirsty or being harmed in any way. As naive as he seemed, I see no way he made it out. Maybe he'll do someone some good in Mexico and be OK. LA is no place for nice people.

Everyone is, or was, A Friggin Genius

I was reading some comments elsewhere. Not a friend's place, so forget me promoting it. What got me was that at least three people had to say how they were in advanced high school before college, were encouraged to skip this or that, exempted this and that in college, etc. In other words they were claiming to be super geniuses. And that pisses me off.

Why?, you ask. I'm thinking it is because when you are the real deal and stylishly humble, such poor form hits a nerve.
Or it just annoys me because I see it as a way to scare off dissenters. Who wants to debate Leonardo DaVinci or Albert Einstein?

It could be I feel like it points me out to be a dimwit by implication. Whatever the case, if everyone was that smart, then I doubt we'd have wars and way too expensive gas, and Cuban coffee now at 6.99. So, not all those people are what they say.

I don't engage people at those places anyway. They might make me look stupid, and they might be nuts who would come hunt me down.

IT does get me sometimes, how many people seem to be so damned smart, according to them. I consider the smart people as the ones whose kids still speak to them and who have some semblance of security as well. The very smartest are those who have been married forever, still like their spouses, have offspring who speak to them, and who have a decent livelihood as well. If they did it honestly then I think they are brilliant. I never did figure out how to do those things. To me, that is true genius--a happy family unit.

The next best thing? A Ballistic Tour!!!

I guess I have finally committed myself to the road trip. I'm hitting it in a few weeks come hell or high water. Gas prices will be what they be and I hope it levels off.

If it gets bad enough, I'll sell the car and buy a motorcycle. Or not.

Anyway, I hope to get to all the places I need to go; AZ to see my long time Miami friend, TX for relatives, MS to meet Sugar Blue, NC to catch up with the Bass/harp man and to check out a place in the mountains, and hit the Outer Banks, maybe see if Bobby is up for letting me sit in up the coast in VA, then maybe get up to NY to see my old pal, and MA to see the other old pal, and NH just because.

There are other Sugar Blue Videos but this is the best. I like this band the best, too. They know how to bring it down and then back up.
This is a blues man. Maybe my favorite. Blues genius, since we were talking genius.


Maybe I won't get even to NC, but I hope so. I'm not sure about the rest. The farther away, the greater the chances that time and money will not work out.
It's been negative investment long enough--may as well use it and go from there.

I look out at these little mountains and hills and kind of think I will like coming back west. I just wish the west hadn't suckered for being so high priced and over regulated. I do like the wide open thing of points west in this country, and the giant mountains. With luck I can loop the return trip through CO and some of that.

I have 3 tents, one of which is a bit battered from the winds in Taos and Page, AZ from the big Tour to the unknown which landed me here. Hotels cost too much, and much as I hate to admit it, I kind of look forward to seeing if I can do it this way.

Been cooking on a hotplate for 2 years, so that's almost like camping. But this bed, with that memory foam on top is way comfortable. Not sure how to cope with missing that for a month or 6 weeks.

View Point

Because I grew up and lived most of my life elsewhere, I always called it a scenic overlook. In California those places are labeled "view point". To me that term is synonymous with point of view; something having to do with opinion and belief. Here, it is a point from which you can view the countryside.

But, Interstate 8 is known as The 8. Every highway with a number is known as The (whatever the number). I'm not out to change the local lexicon or anything else, just noting the difference in customs and culture. Maybe that will earn me a grant of some kind from the Department of Diversity. They must have a diversity czar. I'll check it out.

I can note the differences from place to place in how they refer to and deal with roads and roadside matters. For example, in Florida they had Slow Work Ahead, and it usually was. They also had Slow Children, poor little unfortunates. But, no child left behind, please, help them out!

Now that I think of it, there were slow children in other states too. No need to put that in my grant application. I need to check it out first hand to be sure.

What they don't know is the unusual people you meet at the View Point who have a very unusual view point. For instance, tonight, on my way home from the therapeutic gathering of those who have been somewhat where I've been, I stopped at the View Point on The 8. I do that often because I like the place, it is unlit, and usually deserted. A good place to clear your head.

At times, I've helped motorists in distress, given directions and generally had interesting interactions. Tonight was one of those times.

The young guy in the old Diesel Mercedes, who was working there all day on hydrogen generators had run his battery down by leaving the trunk light on. My usually trustworthy battery pack/jump starter/air compressor/12volt power source unit did not have enough juice to do the job.

Ever since my debacle in Indiana, some months prior to the Ballistic Tour, (and prior to the Tourmobile purchase), which involved boosting someone's truck and frying my little car's computer, I don't jump from a car with a computer. That covers most vehicles and certainly the latest Tour Mobile. However, I can't just leave a fellow traveler stranded. It is not a huge thing to disconnect my battery and boost off of that. Resetting the clock and the radio is not a big deal. So that is what I did.

We ended up talking about electricity, wind turbines, hydrogen generators and learning aids for autistic children for three hours. It was all interesting. The kid--I swore I'd never be one to call young adults "kid"--was full of enthusiasm and ideas. He has a four year old autistic son. The kid is doing OK, reportedly.

There were other things going on but why get into that?

The point is that I tend to strike up odd friendships in the middle of nowhere under unusual circumstances. Most of the time I never see the people again. I may check up on this one to see how a particular initiative goes. He claimed that after talking to me he thinks he can press forward, and he was feeling like he couldn't before our talk.

Enthusiastic people with ideas and creativity always get my encouragement. It doesn't matter if the idea is perfect or not. I am not one to rain on the parade. I've found the refinement of the idea is a small percentage of the picture. The drive to push through and make it happen is the lion's share of what it takes. Refinements will naturally occur as you go. Some of this guy's ideas are not bad at all.

It was a good thing. I came home feeling OK for being me. Not many people are likely to float around at the overlook, jump start the needy, and encourage the pure of heart in their quest for creativity and fulfillment. That could cement any suspicions that I am a lunatic, but that's the way it is. Given the opportunity, there are people who find great relief in being able to tell someone who gets it what is really on their mind.

And don't hypothesize about any weirdness. That is not how I roll. I do attract the unusual like a magnet, but I do very well at only letting the right ones through the barrier. Like the guy I gave a ride home from the Mobile station who had me come upstairs and play harmonica for his wife, and who made me watch ten minutes of Cadillac Records with them, then they both made me promise to rent it first chance I got (since I couldn't just stay there and watch it with them). Most people would not have given him the ride. He had bags of groceries and missed the bus. I thought he'd be OK. Even if I am white. See? It usually works.

If I read them wrong and get shot one day, I won't like it, but I won't regret the times I took a chance when I was right.

Cadillac Records was about Chess Records and a lot of it had to do with this guy, Little Walter

Things You Can't Know, and for other purposes

((((whenever they introduce legislation, they cryptically describe what the bill is supposed to do, then add the phrase, "and for other purposes". I'm for abolishing that practice. It has nothing much to do with this post))))
=================================================================

Quite often you will hear governmental agencies, police, charities, the friggin Ad Council announce that some practice or restriction has saved X number of lives. In reality, there is no way of knowing how many lives their pet projects saved.

The reason it can't be known was quite eloquently illustrated in Mark Twain's short story, The Mysterious Stranger.

For example, they may claim that a general road block to filter out drunk drivers saves lives, and it may seem like it does. Usually it is more successful at nabbing people with too many parking tickets, past due license renewal or broken tail lights.

What if, because of that simple delay, Sally did not meet Biff at the local art gallery, and therefore the chance that they would produce a child named Dexter was lost?

Dexter would have been conceived at just the right time and temperature for all the genes and juices to create a benevolent super genius. Dexter would have raced through his education, obtaining a doctorate by age 13, and by age 20 he would have found they key to curing AIDS, as well as the common cold, cancers of all sorts, and psoriasis.



But no! Officer Dimwitty of the El Cajon branch of the CA Highway Patrol, and his sidekick Officer Juan Mamaculo, had to put up a roadblock, delaying some drivers more than others. They spent just enough extra time trying to look down Sally's blouse, asking stupid questions, that by the time she arrived at the gallery, Biff had hit the road. Fate had been duped by the Man.

So, in reality many lives which would have been saved were lost. We can't know that will happen, but we can't know it won't.

That debunks assertions that they know how many lives are saved.

Anyway, after the fate twisting roadblock Sally marries a sociopath who does things of which I cannot speak. Her life is forever plunged into darkness and despair. Biff becomes the Democratic congressman from East San Diego county and introduces a bill requiring everyone to fly naked, wrapped in ten layers of plastic wrap, with little holes poked in it so you can breathe.

Biff's bill results in a drastic increase in the cost of air travel, and necessitates that everyone arrive at the airport 6 hours in advance so they can be stripped, wrapped and loaded by conveyor into the aircraft.

The country then wonders what happened to the air travel industry. Like always, when things go awry, the public media take on it is that it somehow mysteriously happened all of a sudden. Cause and effect has been stricken from the collective mind. Perhaps it has something to do with sensitivity or giving back, or chem trails--who knows?

Because the airline industry demise is so bewildering, the president initiates a plan to bail out the airlines at a cost of 3 trillion dollars.

It turns out the bailout money is not closely followed so the CEOs who supported the president's campaign are able to receive huge bonuses and billion dollar salaries before their companies declare bankruptcy and they resign to take prestigious jobs in the executive branch of government. Then Congress authorizes a second bailout to keep the companies from going under and to get them out of bankruptcy.

All because of a life saving roadblock.

This is what happens when you have policies which treat everyone as guilty before proven innocent and 4th amendment protections against unreasonable search and seizure are ignored.

The public was assured by the cheerful TV newslady that "it's a lot safer out on the highways this holiday season!!" She may have had something else to say, but I got distracted trying to look down her blouse.

I'm Not The Only Radical

Great news!! In Georgia, of all places, someone introduced a bill that disputes the notion that driving (use of public thoroughfares), is a privilege instead of a right. I've never gone along with that idea--that driving or any other exercise of freedom is a privilege instead of a right. Who decides who has the right to decide if I can exercise my rights? You cannot grant me privileges which involve my own life and rights. Privilege to travel?

People still have to drive safely--as if they do now--ever driven in Atlanta?--but they can't be forced to be licensed in order to travel.

Georgia Assembly
10 LC 34 2350
House Bill 875
By: Representative Franklin of the 43rd


Go representative Franklin.

At first this sounds so radical and scary, but that is mostly because of conditioning to believe the behavior control and security of the government works out well. I tend to think the idea of a driver's licence was first seen as a source of revenue, then as a way of keeping track of people so they could be hit up for more money later, and the very least of the motives had a thing to do with safety.

I'm astounded that an elected official anywhere would seriously challenge such an accepted, though nefarious, institution.

When something has been hammered into your mind long enough, you tend to accept it and even defend it. Facts often get in the way, and reason does as well.

It's what makes it so easy for wars to keep being waged. Except we don't call it war. That is just one example.

There are many things that are considered necessary, and which have become accepted facets of government and restrictions on rights which we could do without. Those who think the increase in war, crime, sociopathic gang behavior, failing schools, etc. is somehow not the fault of governmental policies and encroachment upon life, would disagree with me. I believe the policies of the last 100 years, and more, have been the root of most evil. There are a couple of things which have gone counter to that, but the reality is these were used to smokescreen very strong moves to restrict the universal rights of all.

I'm back to searching for a hollow tree, far away from anything I know--not sure I will survive in the world as I know it.
That part is my fault.

I don't expect anyone to agree with me, and I know some who are very big on the idea that everything is a privilege, not a right. Guess we'll just continue to disagree, but one day the squeeze of the state will affect your life in an unpleasant manner and you will wonder how it happened.

I suppose I am one who feels at least as threatened, or more, by government than I do by those from which it claims to protect me. Seriously, I do not automatically trust police or government officials regarding any matters whatsoever. You never know what you will get, and it is not right that such human beings have that power which can be used as a weapon on a whim. More power, in many ways, than the power a punk weilds when he holds a gun. Not such a different mentality in many cases.

Something is wrong with the set up when punks and police are often equally antisocial. It's because 90% of police work involves matters which aren't the proper function of government, and which violate basic rights and freedom. Also the methods are generally dishonest and based on the assumption that the average citizen is a a criminal who needs to be caught and trapped doing something evil, like speeding, growing a pot plant, minding his own business without prior permission.

BOTTOM LINE: The main problem is that packing to many people together too tightly, combined with too much central authority over their lives makes for trouble on all fronts. And the temptation to get away from filtering restrictions through the test of if an act constitutes force or fraud--restricts the rights of others--seems too great to resist. Hence you often hear a defense of "We've done nothing illegal" when there has actually been an act of deception or force.

UPDATE: re: right vs privilege -- even if I agree with licensing, (I'm on the fence on that issue), if I demonstrate the skill to safely operate a machine, vehicle, perform a task, etc. it is my right, then to undertake that endeavor. Privilege implies that my right to freely travel, or work, is bestowed upon me by some higher authority, and can for any reason be revoked. I hold that it is my right as long as I am not infringing on the ability of others to exercise their rights.

That is why I do not shout down people with whom I disagree in a public forum. That is not exercising free speech, it is attempting to curb the exercise of that right by the one with whom I disagree.

Right to travel freely is even addressed in the Magna Carta. People forget that the Bill of Rights was limited and intended to reinforce the idea that rights not granted to the government were retained by the people. I tend to believe it is my right to do whatever I please within bounds of not violating rights of others. Many of those rights I would not exercise, like putting opiates in my oatmeal or molesting a particularly affectionate sheep.

On Fourth Thought--Volunteerism

Like other words, such as blow, queer and gay, and even the rainbow itself, the meanings of volunteer and volunteerism have been hijacked to mean something else.

Many schools require so many hours of "volunteer work" before a person can get the high school diploma. If you are being pushed with such a gun to your head, it is hardly a voluntary act. Of course, graduating at all might be considered voluntary, but these activities are done under duress and the education system knows it. School is now for more than imparting knowledge. It is there to serve meals, modify philosophical beliefs and force people to conform to a very narrow view of what constitutes an adult. Freedom fighters need not apply.

Volunteerism is the condition of doing things under one's own volition, by choice. It is a state of freedom, I would think. The antithesis of slavery.

I think the idea that volunteering to pick up roadside trash or to do whatever is considered civic minded by current standards is more noble than working at the local grocery store and doing a good job, is bunk. There is nothing more noble about it. It is nice that people see fit to make life better for someone else because they want to. But if it becomes a thing of pressuring others, and then calling it volunteerism, I don't buy into that scheme.

Now, it makes sense to force those who littered the road in the first place to clean it up. They were going outside the realm of their rights in that case. I've picked up a few bits of debris myself, but not in any organized clean up day effort--just because I found it annoying and thought I might as well do it. If someone had put a camera in my face and labeled me a civic minded volunteer, I would have done something obscene and then gone home immediately.

As a matter of fact, when such things are required, or funded by tax dollars which some would spend in another way, then I'd say it is actually the opposite of volunteerism. It is extortion.

Ever been pushed to contribute to the United Way or one of those on a job, knowing if you said no it would influence your job status, chances for promotion, and general security? I have. That is neither charity, in the true sense, or really voluntary. That is the old buy or die tactic so popular with organized crime.

That is all.

On Third Thought

This has nothing to do the the first or second thoughts below. That is how thoughts work. The actual relevance to the original problem or idea deteriorates as the thing travels through the mind. In my mind, it often takes a sudden turn, or jumps over to another dimension altogether.

In this case, the idea came that great people (what I consider great) do not tie themselves up in trivial concerns. I noticed it when I worked for people who had formed their own companies and achieved success. They employed many people, steered their companies to growth and expansion, and created really awesome work environments.

You always have personality conflicts and all that but the force behind the productive firm always seemed above the trivial conflicts. Their attention was on what mattered. Even when driving, I noticed that they did not take it personal when people did what they do on the highway by being inconsiderate or stupid. Just another obstacle to avoid or get around.

At the time I was more in the mode of wanting to rag on about "that idiot, bablabla". Then I realized that the most successful people in the vehicle were focussed more on where we were going and why, and chose not to waste energy on incidenta trivial resentments. Who knows if it totally carried through to their personal lives, but the focus on the important things in their careers was different from the average person.

And that brought to mind, however big a stretch, a video from 1959 which was recently brought to my attention between Mike Wallace and Ayn Rand. Mike was puffing on a cigarette.

Many people instantly tighten up and recoil at the mention of Ayn Rand or her book, Atlas Shrugged. I'm not one of those, although I understand why some people feel that way. It has a lot to do with how you look at it, and what you understand is the message. Like a lot of things, I take what I consider the best and leave the rest.

The remarkable thing about the interview is that she expressed a view that I have tried to express, yet Mike refused to acknowledge what she had said, framing the next question with the assumption she espoused the exact opposite. What she said was that when companies use and team up with government it is the worst of all systems. I agree with that.

What gets painted as capitalism is actually more a fascist condition. She described it some other way but it was clear that she held those who use government to facilitate their companies' gains in as much contempt as outright dictators. Companies, on their own, restricted from using force or fraud, do not have the ability to oppress and do all the things many associate with mean dirty CORPORATIONS.

To many people, just the word "corporation" has become a negative epithet. That is because what we have are companies which, due to the lack of limits on the power of government, have gained the power to influence when and where our military is used, influence how regulations are written--usually resulting in less competition, and to influence any manner of domestic policies and projects.

I found it interesting that Rand suggested that government had no business involved in economics. I kind of agree. So, where people have been given the idea that her books and philosophy throw a vote of approval to such corporations as GE and many others which are so entwined with government that one could never figure how to begin untying the knot, they have been mistaken.

It was kind of gratifying to me because I like it when someone says things with which I agree. I had never actually read or heard the sentiment so plainly stated in that interview. The issue of companies using government to help bully the public and competition is never discussed when history is taught or related matters are discussed. Instead, the idea that highly successful business is by nature evil and dishonest is put forth without drawing the distinction between outfits that simply do what they do well, and those which gain power and governmental favor.

We've gone so far down the road of control that it is not easy to find companies of size which can exist without the lobbyists and governmental gamesmanship. I've always thought it was not a good thing that government has become the biggest player and concern in most business operations.

The result is not the positive thing I've been told. Even charitable efforts have to filter through government approval due to the tax system. Individual initiative to help someone because that is what you want to do is actually discouraged because it pays better to drive past the guy bleeding in a ditch and throw some money at mosquito nets through an official charity. Of course, I do not believe it is the job of government to reward or punish free choice charitable efforts, or much else for that matter.

Anyway. Atlas Shrugged, in my view, was not intended to be the heartless, hateful outlook that many interpret it as being. The bottom line is that you don't have the right to force people to do what you want, or to take from them what is theirs by force, and that is what we've been doing while painting it as humane and beneficial. It is just a friggin book which had an uncanny sense of the language and attitudes that would become part of our culture. It held the view that these developments were an affront to human, individual rights. Many hold the view that these things somehow promote human rights.

In any case, I am surprised at the emotions Rand and her books trigger in people. But I am surprised by a lot.
Link to interview. There are two or three parts

It seems odd the fact that she escaped Russia at its worst is glossed over. I think she had a great fear of such a state.

On Second Thought

People are what they are. I'm not out to change them. I have enough trouble changing myself, and I do need to change some key elements.
So, if someone else's issues come into play where I have no intentional influence or effect, then it is just the way it is. They'll probably forget about it. Since I don't really get what it is, why worry?

If I ask myself if I would change members of my family, I can't say that I would. It may require a little dance here and there to avoid certain quirks or attitudes, but that is just how they want to be. It is not my job to write their scripts. When I feel like mine is somehow being written, I get defensive if I am caught by surprise. It's like finding out after the scene is played that I recited the wrong lines, and I never planned on being in the scene in the first place. Best reaction is the least reaction.

I suppose I did not like suddenly being on the spot in a circumstance which never crossed my mind. Hell, I'm a thousand miles or more away from the issue. There is absolutely no way to be true to myself and at the same time behave as if I am a normal person who likes to have a little pride in what family I have left. The difficulty here is not my doing. Plenty of other difficulties are and I choose to avoid owning any more dysfunction than I absolutely ought to.

When it comes down to it, this is a common black sheep syndrome. Even when you cast away the worst of what landed you at the bottom of the heap, the fact that you don't have a wall full of awards and credentials, a long and stable family life, or much else that anyone can brag about, cements your role as least respected, and secretly reviled--in an odd kind of way. I suppose it makes it worse when people who've known you all your life tend to indicate a greater appreciation for you than the ones who did everything right, have so much more to show for it, and feel they deserve greater affection and favor by virtue of such accomplishment.

How can I blame them? It is not uncommon for the ones who didn't stray from the path of least insanity to resent their siblings and others who screwed up, self destructed, and returned to life as if they were the prodigal sons, receiving the affection and approval the good ones feel they never get. The dynamic is probably more complex than the ones with the responsible track record realize, but I think they still wonder why, particularly in the case of siblings, the screw up gets coddled and forgiven so easily. If only they could be forever punished, or even banished, seems to be the underlying thought.

Sorry. It just doesn't work that way. It is hard for the upright members of a family to realize that accomplishment is its own reward, and lack of it, coupled with inexplicable bad judgement and self destruction is its own punishment beyond anything they can imagine---even if others in the family treat the black sheep with more affection than they deserve.

Maybe I am lucky that I can see and empathize with both conditions. I feel bad for being the perpetual screw up of my line. But I feel good that I changed as much of that as I have. It could have been much worse and odds were I'd never have lived to see the year 2000.

I'd much rather be in the position to look after all the others rather than be of little use other than that I seem to have the ability to help the various branches of the tree feel like they are worthy of affection and pride.

No More Mr Middleman

When my father was alive, and my mother was alive, I constantly battled the problem of being pushed into the position of middleman. If I happened to see or talk to my father, which was not that often, he would pump me for info about my mother--usually trying to find a way to alter is divorce agreement.

He'd also quiz me about my brother. Not that he didn't have the number.

Actually they all seemed to think it was cool to make me feel some guilt for not being at war with any of them, yet, in a way, it put me at war with all of them. My mother put me in the middle between her and my brother, and to a lesser degree, my father. My brother sometimes did it too. I do not think I put any of them in the middle nearly as much. Almost none at all. It really sucks. Seriously, this is not a good development.

Similar circumstances, different relationships, and I am not pleased. Oh my God, did I let some piece of news slip before the rest of my gene pool could announce it to some other subset of the same goddam gene pool? It is as if my very existence is an awful inconvenience to those who hold grudges over some hurt feelings or vision of wrongdoing of which I am no part and not really a witness. Secrets which make no damned sense are exactly what I grew up with, and what came closer than you'd believe to killing me.

The problem is that it causes conflict with my desire to not disappear from the face of the earth as far as blood kin are concerned. On one hand I do not care to be sucked into believing I have somehow betrayed people, which I haven't. But the only way to distance myself from that ridiculous drama is to do like I did a long time ago--avoid, leave no forwarding address, and keep my phone number to myself.

A little late I guess but I do most of the calling when calling happens. All the calling, actually. I guess the only emails not initiated by me have to do with implications that my existence has created inconvenience. It would be denied, but it is there.

Maybe some in my family just can't stand it if I enjoy anyone else in my family. I think that may have always been the case. Hate me because others don't. I really thought we were past this.

Wallace clearly was ignorant of the fact that majority rule itself is not a holy grail, and that there are supposedly limits on democracy. Otherwise we could all vote that Bill Gates, George Soros, and all other billionaires give all their money to men like me.

HULU.com Movie Review; The Horse Boy

Another find on hulu.com, since I am cable free. The Horse Boy is a documentary film about a family with an autistic boy. I guess he was about seven when this saga began.

The film covers the family's desperate journey to Mongolia of all places, to travel in van and on horseback to the northern region of the reindeer people. Did you know the first animals used for riding were reindeer?

Anyway, they saw shamans and such, which may sound crazy and new agey, but the flick is not like that. These parents had nothing to lose, and both had backgrounds in going to strange places in the world for one reason or another. His work is pretty much centered around that sort of thing, and he has seen all kinds of healing rituals and whatnot.

The wife was more skeptical, but what's to lose?

The adventure they had, camping in the middle of nowhere Mongolia with their guide, and riding horses to the reindeer herd was visually beautiful and a great off road, road trip. The other part of the adventure was seeing the progress of their child. In their shoes, even the thought of one day toilet training the kid seemed beyond all hope.

An interesting aspect of his progress is that it all started due to his uncanny comfort with animals, and their comfort with him. It has been observed that some autistic people have an inexplicable connection to animals which is mutual. Almost telepathic. Animals seem to sense something special in them and react differently.

I may have a little more interest than most in those who are wired differently or not at all. Not sure why. I have my theories. Whatever the reason, I have always felt at home with people who were severely or mildly mentally disabled or different.

This was not a sappy, cheap tearjerker. This is purely an excellent and enthralling documentary which I highly recommend. And it appears that the ranch they set up for autistic kids in Texas may be on my way, should I get this new improved BallisticTour on the road. I might ask them for a job. I think it would be difficult not to take a job if they offered it, but that's a big long shot. At any rate, I'd love to stop by to see the place and the people.

Many documentaries are boring, and lack the sort of flow you want when watching a movie. This one is not like that. It is paced like a good story, and it avoided the kind of goop and sap that usually fills the voids in such works. beautifully done.

And, I tend to like horses so I guess that helps, although it wasn't all horse stuff by any means.