It is a well known fact that if you disagree with, or do not support the administration of, Barack Obama, you are a racist.
Now the same people who pronounced the above immutable law of nature have decided that if you are, or support, Herman Cain, you are a racist.
The first law of Obama politics seems to assume that you are a racist in that you could only disagree with him if you are anti-Black, or anti-African-American, or anti-African---you choose. I still stand fast in my opposition to hyphenating nationalities or continents.
Since Herman Cain is black, I am not sure how his racism, and that of those who like him, is defined. We can only assume that Al Sharpton and others who make their living off of racial conflict are the arbiters of who and what is racist, and who is properly "Black enough". Of course, Herman Cain isn't because he is a capitalist and he is not a democrat.
Everyone knows that if you aren't a democrat, you cannot possibly be Black. (even though the first free Black members of congress were Republican, and the KKK used to be a very active part of the Democratic party---last of which was maybe Robert Byrd who was eulogized not long ago by democrats in Washington after he finally died and quit running for office)
Until people quit suckering for the politics of race and condition of birth, the Plantation will continue to grow, people will continue to be blinded to their own humanity, opportunity, and chance to enjoy life. The autonomy of the individual will continue to be eroded unless this philosophically unsound way of thinking is seen for what it is; a way to make money for a few, and a way to perpetuate hate and misery for many.
I don't care if it is the Congressional Black Caucus, the KKK, La Raza, or the Black Panthers--all such groups are purely motivated by a few who want to feel powerful and stand above those they lead by instilling the victim mentality, and treating ethnicity, gender and any other condition of birth as some sort of character value. Race, gender, none of that is a character value, idiots!! It is not relevant to the word "rights". Reason and logic, right and wrong, do not know color, so repent your crimes and shut up, Al, Jesse, KKK, Nazis, iota of a Black Panther.
It is not relevant to individual freedom, to anything that has to do ensuring maximum individual autonomy in a civil society. That is what government is for--protect the rights of the people, starting with the individual. That is why it is supposed to have limits and if our judges and politicians had ever read and adhered to the Constitution instead of raping the spirit and meaning to accomplish their own elitist ends, maybe I wouldn't be discussing this.
That would please some people. I think it would please me.
If someone told me I wasn't white enough because of my philosophy of how my country ought be governed, I'd have to laugh at them. Why does no one laugh when people debate whether Herman Cain is black enough? Why didn't they do something of the kind when all those self appointed gauges of blackness were questioning if Obama was black enough?
I cannot believe people don't speak up en masse to shout down so-called black leaders, hispanic leaders, and while they are at it, so-called business leaders and labor leaders. It is conditioning and Herman is right, most of us have been brainwashed, even though he did not say that exactly since he was focussing on questions about one "community". Most of us are brainwashed in a Pavlovian kind of way. Or bought off real cheap. How many decent union members turn a blind eye to the mob connections and gangster tactics? And they call Wall Street greedy?
At least the KKK gets laughed out of town quite often. It is time to do the same to all these other racists, Hispanic supremacists, and Black supremacists. That is what they are. Racist charlatans conning people, at worst, and serious racial chauvinists who believe their race is better and should rule others at best.
Although, I'm not sure which of those two choices is better or worse. I let it stand. At least in the second case they actually believe something. In the first case they are just fueling weaknesses in human nature and cashing in, knowing they are unjust and crooked.
It is hard for people not to latch on to the victim mentality--it eliminates the need to undergo that uncomfortable process known as introspection; self examination. The victim mentality not only causes people to suspend normal values and respect for others, it causes them to let go of reasoning to a dangerous degree.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Child Review: Offspring of Bureaucrats in High Positions
OK. Mr. Morebucks, who owns the place where I do various jobs, is very well connected politically, clearly because he is very well set financially. He's one of the back seat drivers of things governmental, and believe me, things governmental are guided more by those you don't see, riding in the back seat, than those in front waving and honking the horn.
I think that was some sort of metaphorish statement, but probably is full of flaws any English major would note and find disquieting.
Whatever it was, I stand by by it.
So, people in high places sometimes vacation at Mr Morebucks SoCal resort home. He is rarely there; maybe three weeks out of the year divided among two or three visits. He hires a full time house manager to handle the bills, hire people like me and make sure his rowdy friends have whatever they want when they descend on the place. Most of his friends are in one way or another connected to politics or government, either nationally or in the land of dead voters. That reference allows the astute who remember what put Kennedy and others over the top to narrow it down to a city. Others will just have to assume it is irrelevant.
OK, a guy who is high enough up that government agents accompany the family on vacation came to stay with his hot wife and bratty kids. The kids broke the electric wooden gate in the first fifteen minutes. Somehow they managed to force the operating arm of the thing to pull out from its mount which meant two lag bolts were ripped out of the wood. Not the best lag bolt installation to begin with, but this took effort and persistence.
I did not find out how it happened until today. The maid saw them arrive. I was called to go fix it that day. I was able to do a temporary repair, then the next day the gang was to be gone all day so I returned and did my usual excellent work installing a permanent fix. I had to pick up some things based on the previous day's observations. That is how such things work--fiddle and fit. You have to go see what the problem is then hope you can find the right thing to fix it. This one worked out.
Today I went back to do the usual putting things away and covering things up that I do when the guests hit the road...or in most cases, the private jet.
Those kids must have a thing about doors on hinges. They managed to destroy the hinges on a cabinet door. It is a pretty good sized cabinet which houses some sound equipment. It is all operated by remote and there is no reason to even be in there. Finding the same type hinge is going to be a trick. What I did was trade out the top hinge for the bottom one of a smaller door with the same hardware. The cabinet has three different types of hinges for various reasons.
The door has to close or a light stays on; like a refrigerator door, except this one is de-energized by a button the door has to press against when closed. I barely got it to work, but it is not noticeably screwed up unless you are a cabinet nazi. In that case you'd notice that it is not perfect.
The thing is, the parents watched as their kids set out to mess up the big wooden driveway doors/gate, and did absolutely nothing. Judging from the spoiled and entitled behavior of guests at this place; they break things, leave trash laying around, etc. and never say to the "help", oh we busted this or that. They just go on their merry way and maybe complain about something like, "We couldn't get the windows in the hall to open". Of course those would be the only windows that do not open because they are panes of glass mounted in the wall and not intended to open.
Seriously these people are mentally deficient. But, they are in high places and buds with the President. Far be it from me to draw any conclusions from that.
Their kids are destructive little brats, and the parents do not take responsibility for their actions, or for guiding the kids away from abusing that which is not theirs.
Late era baby boomers. Really, when a baby boomer has decent kids or is a human being of character, it is always an exciting event, so what do I expect? I honestly think my generation is mostly dimwits and devoid of common courtesy and understanding of the rights of others. Many of them have spawned even more vile beings than themselves.
I know it sounds like I am being harsh, but I've found it is not only I who have experienced maybe one out of twenty self declared friends who would lift a finger when it mattered to you, and one out of fifty who would do so if it in any way was an inconvenience. It is the nature of our peers.
My only worry now is that the actuator which moves the wooden gate is so well fastened that they might destroy it next time if they go about things the same way. It is not a lightweight piece of hardware. The thing is substantial. We'll see. I charged about triple because it was an emergency call and I was on my way home. The house manager was all about paying me a premium for my prompt attention to the situation. For that I am grateful.
I should remain grateful for the work but, I have to say, I am getting a little bored and feel like I am stagnating. Time to create what has not been created. What would that be? Maybe a start would be an organized domicile.
So, from my limited experience, I have to give bureaucrats' kids two thumbs down. One star out of five. A 1, on a scale of 1 to 10---10 being best.
I think that was some sort of metaphorish statement, but probably is full of flaws any English major would note and find disquieting.
Whatever it was, I stand by by it.
So, people in high places sometimes vacation at Mr Morebucks SoCal resort home. He is rarely there; maybe three weeks out of the year divided among two or three visits. He hires a full time house manager to handle the bills, hire people like me and make sure his rowdy friends have whatever they want when they descend on the place. Most of his friends are in one way or another connected to politics or government, either nationally or in the land of dead voters. That reference allows the astute who remember what put Kennedy and others over the top to narrow it down to a city. Others will just have to assume it is irrelevant.
OK, a guy who is high enough up that government agents accompany the family on vacation came to stay with his hot wife and bratty kids. The kids broke the electric wooden gate in the first fifteen minutes. Somehow they managed to force the operating arm of the thing to pull out from its mount which meant two lag bolts were ripped out of the wood. Not the best lag bolt installation to begin with, but this took effort and persistence.
I did not find out how it happened until today. The maid saw them arrive. I was called to go fix it that day. I was able to do a temporary repair, then the next day the gang was to be gone all day so I returned and did my usual excellent work installing a permanent fix. I had to pick up some things based on the previous day's observations. That is how such things work--fiddle and fit. You have to go see what the problem is then hope you can find the right thing to fix it. This one worked out.
Today I went back to do the usual putting things away and covering things up that I do when the guests hit the road...or in most cases, the private jet.
Those kids must have a thing about doors on hinges. They managed to destroy the hinges on a cabinet door. It is a pretty good sized cabinet which houses some sound equipment. It is all operated by remote and there is no reason to even be in there. Finding the same type hinge is going to be a trick. What I did was trade out the top hinge for the bottom one of a smaller door with the same hardware. The cabinet has three different types of hinges for various reasons.
The door has to close or a light stays on; like a refrigerator door, except this one is de-energized by a button the door has to press against when closed. I barely got it to work, but it is not noticeably screwed up unless you are a cabinet nazi. In that case you'd notice that it is not perfect.
The thing is, the parents watched as their kids set out to mess up the big wooden driveway doors/gate, and did absolutely nothing. Judging from the spoiled and entitled behavior of guests at this place; they break things, leave trash laying around, etc. and never say to the "help", oh we busted this or that. They just go on their merry way and maybe complain about something like, "We couldn't get the windows in the hall to open". Of course those would be the only windows that do not open because they are panes of glass mounted in the wall and not intended to open.
Seriously these people are mentally deficient. But, they are in high places and buds with the President. Far be it from me to draw any conclusions from that.
Their kids are destructive little brats, and the parents do not take responsibility for their actions, or for guiding the kids away from abusing that which is not theirs.
Late era baby boomers. Really, when a baby boomer has decent kids or is a human being of character, it is always an exciting event, so what do I expect? I honestly think my generation is mostly dimwits and devoid of common courtesy and understanding of the rights of others. Many of them have spawned even more vile beings than themselves.
I know it sounds like I am being harsh, but I've found it is not only I who have experienced maybe one out of twenty self declared friends who would lift a finger when it mattered to you, and one out of fifty who would do so if it in any way was an inconvenience. It is the nature of our peers.
My only worry now is that the actuator which moves the wooden gate is so well fastened that they might destroy it next time if they go about things the same way. It is not a lightweight piece of hardware. The thing is substantial. We'll see. I charged about triple because it was an emergency call and I was on my way home. The house manager was all about paying me a premium for my prompt attention to the situation. For that I am grateful.
I should remain grateful for the work but, I have to say, I am getting a little bored and feel like I am stagnating. Time to create what has not been created. What would that be? Maybe a start would be an organized domicile.
So, from my limited experience, I have to give bureaucrats' kids two thumbs down. One star out of five. A 1, on a scale of 1 to 10---10 being best.
Who Knew?
I had no idea that, for some reason, certain comments were stashed in a place waiting for me to approve them. Blogger calls that moderation. Since I rarely do anything in moderation, I had no idea that thing was there.
Too bad there were only three comments and on posts I forgot I wrote. The up side is that I often don't recall entries as recent as a few days back. Especially when I'm in one those periods where I post lots of entries in a short time.
Of course all the comments were very positive, noting that I am an unsung genius and a man far ahead of his time, and that my genius is only exceeded by my courage and good character.
I'll have to check the moderation bucket more often.
Too bad there were only three comments and on posts I forgot I wrote. The up side is that I often don't recall entries as recent as a few days back. Especially when I'm in one those periods where I post lots of entries in a short time.
Of course all the comments were very positive, noting that I am an unsung genius and a man far ahead of his time, and that my genius is only exceeded by my courage and good character.
I'll have to check the moderation bucket more often.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Kin
They say my great grandfather, or maybe it was great great grandfather had a bit of the wanderlust in him. He was a rancher, farmer, and a bit of an adventurer. His main base was in the Kansas territory and upper Oklahoma.
I believe he was one of them in the second land rush in Oklahoma. I get a few of the facts confused. The part I know is correct is that he rode his horse out west, maybe checked out the gold rush as far as California.
Of course he carried a six gun side arm. When he returned to the family in Oklahoma, he had some notches on his gun. I'm thinking gramps may have been a tough hombre. Right or wrong, that makes me feel a little better about my particular gene pool.
I believe he was one of them in the second land rush in Oklahoma. I get a few of the facts confused. The part I know is correct is that he rode his horse out west, maybe checked out the gold rush as far as California.
Of course he carried a six gun side arm. When he returned to the family in Oklahoma, he had some notches on his gun. I'm thinking gramps may have been a tough hombre. Right or wrong, that makes me feel a little better about my particular gene pool.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Blues Things
I was thinking and wondering, "Why do I not tend to enjoy sharing stories from my past?". I think it is because it makes me sad or brings on remorse and regret. That is the curse of the underachiever, the one who let the one that got away get away, and the one who turned his back on many glaring opportunities which most people wouldn't believe anyway.
When I look back, sometimes I can find an interesting event or story, but behind it is always a sadness that kicks me like a mule. That part may not be relayed all the time, but it causes me to be very resistant to writing about what I've done, and quite happy to write about what I think or to write little flights of fancy which are largely daydream fragments.
Often, the present is without a lot of guilt, remorse or other pain so I might discuss it a little bit. The trouble is it is often without anything else either. Sort of an empty thing. I guess I gravitated toward nothingness because I didn't have the heart to attempt much anything else. Whether socially or otherwise, I don't think I felt up to getting that part of me torn up any more. Not that the heartbreaks haven't been mostly my own fault in one way or another. But, even though it was my fault, it was not my desire and I didn't seem to have the ability not to do whatever that led to it.
Now, in some cases, it was purely my lack of comprehension of some things which was the culprit. Some of that is just how I am wired or how I was schooled, or both. I can't fault myself for the innocence that ignorance carries.
Even so, I have come to realize why I am where I am. What I do not know is what I intend to do about it, or if I can continue like this indefinitely. But, as relative as time is in my world, indefinitely could be a very short time and quite doable.
I do not like the fact that I am not particularly proud of how things have worked out over all. I am proud of a few times when I stood on principle or stood up for people even when they thought I was nuts to do so. The worst thing ever is to cause innocent people pain. Those instances minimized that so I am glad and don't consider they really cost me anything.
It sure does make me want to run sometimes, and just keep going. That's why I liked the aimless roadtrips. I liked the first one best because I did not know where I'd wind up, or even if I'd live to the end of it. The last one was good, but I knew where I was going and that I'd return home. Home is good, but it was obvious I'd find myself still there and that is not that exciting. I could do worse I suppose. It's just that I need so damned much work before being minimally acceptable to myself. Good thing I am willing to put things off and out of mind for long periods of time.
When I look back, sometimes I can find an interesting event or story, but behind it is always a sadness that kicks me like a mule. That part may not be relayed all the time, but it causes me to be very resistant to writing about what I've done, and quite happy to write about what I think or to write little flights of fancy which are largely daydream fragments.
Often, the present is without a lot of guilt, remorse or other pain so I might discuss it a little bit. The trouble is it is often without anything else either. Sort of an empty thing. I guess I gravitated toward nothingness because I didn't have the heart to attempt much anything else. Whether socially or otherwise, I don't think I felt up to getting that part of me torn up any more. Not that the heartbreaks haven't been mostly my own fault in one way or another. But, even though it was my fault, it was not my desire and I didn't seem to have the ability not to do whatever that led to it.
Now, in some cases, it was purely my lack of comprehension of some things which was the culprit. Some of that is just how I am wired or how I was schooled, or both. I can't fault myself for the innocence that ignorance carries.
Even so, I have come to realize why I am where I am. What I do not know is what I intend to do about it, or if I can continue like this indefinitely. But, as relative as time is in my world, indefinitely could be a very short time and quite doable.
I do not like the fact that I am not particularly proud of how things have worked out over all. I am proud of a few times when I stood on principle or stood up for people even when they thought I was nuts to do so. The worst thing ever is to cause innocent people pain. Those instances minimized that so I am glad and don't consider they really cost me anything.
It sure does make me want to run sometimes, and just keep going. That's why I liked the aimless roadtrips. I liked the first one best because I did not know where I'd wind up, or even if I'd live to the end of it. The last one was good, but I knew where I was going and that I'd return home. Home is good, but it was obvious I'd find myself still there and that is not that exciting. I could do worse I suppose. It's just that I need so damned much work before being minimally acceptable to myself. Good thing I am willing to put things off and out of mind for long periods of time.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Occupy Descanso!
Ever one to explore ways in which I can stand in solidarinosc with whomever is standing elsewhere, for whatever reason, I decided to initiate the Occupy Descanso effort. It might have gone better.
It seemed only logical to set up camp at Perkins store, as close to the ATM as I could get. That's pretty much the banking presense in Descanso--the ATM. I had my "this is what democracy looks like" sign neatly painted, and carried a bullhorn. I did all the right things.
I repeated everything the facilitator said and wiggled my fingers to show approval of ideas. First order of business was what to sleep on, and where to sleep. They wouldn't let us sleep in the store, and drunks from the adjacent pizza pub kept tripping over us when we tried to set up camp on the front sidewalk.
We then waved our "we are the 99%" sign only to be ridiculed by passers by. They called us "99% crazy!". Undaunted, the facilitator asked for consensus on whether we should throw our trash in their capitalist trash can or if we should burn it to cook bread.
No consensus was reached so we just left it where it was. Soon it got dark and the place was kind of spooky. When the facilitator put forth the proposition that someone, I think the sheriff, brought up, that we go home, I wiggled my fingers in the affirmative.
We'll be back tomorrow in force. Hopefully there will be more occupiers than just me next time. It is not easy facilitating demonstrating and seeking consensus all by myself. Especially the consensus part.
It seemed only logical to set up camp at Perkins store, as close to the ATM as I could get. That's pretty much the banking presense in Descanso--the ATM. I had my "this is what democracy looks like" sign neatly painted, and carried a bullhorn. I did all the right things.
I repeated everything the facilitator said and wiggled my fingers to show approval of ideas. First order of business was what to sleep on, and where to sleep. They wouldn't let us sleep in the store, and drunks from the adjacent pizza pub kept tripping over us when we tried to set up camp on the front sidewalk.
We then waved our "we are the 99%" sign only to be ridiculed by passers by. They called us "99% crazy!". Undaunted, the facilitator asked for consensus on whether we should throw our trash in their capitalist trash can or if we should burn it to cook bread.
No consensus was reached so we just left it where it was. Soon it got dark and the place was kind of spooky. When the facilitator put forth the proposition that someone, I think the sheriff, brought up, that we go home, I wiggled my fingers in the affirmative.
We'll be back tomorrow in force. Hopefully there will be more occupiers than just me next time. It is not easy facilitating demonstrating and seeking consensus all by myself. Especially the consensus part.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Auto Parts Store Review
Somehow NAPA has the image of knowing what they are doing and being the house of real car parts.
Wrong. Not just in Alpine, but I've noticed this in some other towns, NAPA has arrogant people, who appear to be hoping you will give them reason to start a fistfight, behind the counter sneering as if to say, I know more than you do about your car. But they do not know jack about anything.
They suck. NAPA in Alpine can't even get the simplest part right. You look it up; '08 subaru forester non turbo. You note the part number. You go get it. You wipe that sneer off of your face. High school ended many years ago for you and it looked stupid then, too.
[a note to those who may not know this: California has probably more rednecks than all the Southern states combined, but not more than AZ, Utah, Idaho, Montana, Oregon and Nevada combined]
I will stop short of indicting the entire NAPA company, but not very short. It has been over ten years since I found a transaction at a NAPA store satisfactory in the long run.
NAPA in Alpine sure sucks. It's like walking into a seriously unfriendly redneck bar out in the sticks. Suddenly your mind starts playing Dueling Banjos.
Auto Zone, and O'Reilly are far better, provide better service, better price and their stuff lasts longer. NAPA somehow went downhill. Judging from some of the employees, I think they may be a front for union goons to cool their heels between vandalism gigs.
It is an outrage that NAPA is Alpine's only parts place. From now on I will just go to the O'Reilly store in Poway. Like most Poway businesses, those people are competent and go out of their way to get you what you need. They don't screw it up.
Wrong. Not just in Alpine, but I've noticed this in some other towns, NAPA has arrogant people, who appear to be hoping you will give them reason to start a fistfight, behind the counter sneering as if to say, I know more than you do about your car. But they do not know jack about anything.
They suck. NAPA in Alpine can't even get the simplest part right. You look it up; '08 subaru forester non turbo. You note the part number. You go get it. You wipe that sneer off of your face. High school ended many years ago for you and it looked stupid then, too.
[a note to those who may not know this: California has probably more rednecks than all the Southern states combined, but not more than AZ, Utah, Idaho, Montana, Oregon and Nevada combined]
I will stop short of indicting the entire NAPA company, but not very short. It has been over ten years since I found a transaction at a NAPA store satisfactory in the long run.
NAPA in Alpine sure sucks. It's like walking into a seriously unfriendly redneck bar out in the sticks. Suddenly your mind starts playing Dueling Banjos.
Auto Zone, and O'Reilly are far better, provide better service, better price and their stuff lasts longer. NAPA somehow went downhill. Judging from some of the employees, I think they may be a front for union goons to cool their heels between vandalism gigs.
It is an outrage that NAPA is Alpine's only parts place. From now on I will just go to the O'Reilly store in Poway. Like most Poway businesses, those people are competent and go out of their way to get you what you need. They don't screw it up.
Can't Figure The Weather
Here I thought I'd returned from m trip to weeks and weeks of 90 and 100 degree days. As it turns out there weren't that many really hot days and then the just disappeared. Our hot times, as best I understand, fall a little more toward fall than they do in other places like Memphis or Ponca City.
This year, it is all different. We've been having nights in the 40's and days that hardly reach 70. Of course that varies greatly just a few miles away in any direction. The coast is always nice and perfect. The desert is hot during the day, fairly cool at night.
I've even seen lots of clouds and some rain this past week. I was expecting to go a month without seeing a cloud in the sky. This certainly was no record breaking summer here. I shouldn't complain. It's just that I was still in the mood for a little bit of hot weather. I'd become acclimated to it on my trip, although some of that was way too hot.
Really, I'm confused about other things, and weather is a good subject for expressing that confusion without delving into the more substantive matters. And it is still all true, what I've said.
This year, it is all different. We've been having nights in the 40's and days that hardly reach 70. Of course that varies greatly just a few miles away in any direction. The coast is always nice and perfect. The desert is hot during the day, fairly cool at night.
I've even seen lots of clouds and some rain this past week. I was expecting to go a month without seeing a cloud in the sky. This certainly was no record breaking summer here. I shouldn't complain. It's just that I was still in the mood for a little bit of hot weather. I'd become acclimated to it on my trip, although some of that was way too hot.
Really, I'm confused about other things, and weather is a good subject for expressing that confusion without delving into the more substantive matters. And it is still all true, what I've said.
Occupy Atlanta Silences Civil Rights Hero John Lewis!
This is not what freedom looks like.
This is how true oppression grows. Let's see if we have a consensus on whether the sky is blue.
I ignore comments on youtube as they are rarely worth the read.
The video the video speaks for itself speaks for itself
Dare I say this is what crazy ass white people look like? Collectivists tend to freak me out because they are intolerant toward those who seek to mind their own business and think for themselves. No need to let a person speak for fear he or she might be thought of as somehow better, smarter, different or that he might offer a differing point of view.
The key to everlasting ignorance is contempt prior to investigation. Another vehicle to ensure ignorance is to practice being a parrot.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Best Way To Beat The Man
Warning: This is another instance which finds me preaching that which I rarely practice, or have a very difficult time practicing.
The Man is actually more of a force than any particular person or even institution. People and institutions can be The Man, but aren't the totality of The Man. The Man is that force which seeks to prevent you from living your life and dreams as you see fit, even if you aren't harming others. To do this He finds ways to keep you paranoid, in fear, angry, envious, confused, and sometimes full of vengeful rage.
How can you fight a thing like that? That's what I've been asking myself, and that leads me to a couple of realizations. One is that I have allowed myself to look at local, national, and world events (as presented in news media and some entertainment shows) and I've suckered right into the desired reaction; despair and a feeling of powerlessness over my life and future. The other realization is that it would be healthier to look and see the positive aspects of life.
If I didn't know about obscure, bizarre regulations which kill businesses and enterprise, I would not let that hinder my thoughts of starting some productive independent effort. Maybe it would work out, and maybe I'd just do things as well and responsibly as I think they should be done and be below the radar. It is better to do that than to let The Man convince me that mere mortals need not apply. That is His goal, and I can't say playing into it is an enlightened approach.
I do consciously make an effort not to be a part of The Man's force, and will continue to do so. And the very best way to do that is to try to avoid being suckered any more into believing that we're all doomed and that no one would pay me to do whatever it is that piques my passion. In short, I will resist the brain washing which would make slaves of us all. Or most of us, except the one's who seem to be the core of the machine that is The Man.
Certain enterprises would be better off moved to another state if any success were realized, but that is nothing to a gypsy like me. First one must begin the project and do the work to make it grow. And not be afraid to fail, or to succeed.
That doesn't mean I won't monitor public affairs, but the reality is that the news is pretty much just a droning message which is aimed toward convincing people that government is the end all and be all of life. The average journalist and news publisher is merely the government's salesman, pitching the idea that government is something greater than people and that it is your only hope for making it to the mailbox alive and for making decisions of every sort. They paint it as a god who knows best how everyone should live and think.
It gets more involved than that, and that is part of the trap. People like to puzzle things out and to have enemies, so there is something for everyone. Except me. I want out.
My happiest days have been days when I was too busy living my life to pay much attention to news and governmental hijinx; getting my heart broken, or breaking hearts, and just generally tasting the beauty of the world and life, bringing ideas to material fruition. Creative endeavors, whether of a technical, artistic or other nature, which tweak one's passion, are more than the spice of life. They are a big part of what makes the human race a special species. Those things are life enhancing and life giving.
An enterprise need not be great and earth shaking to be a spectacularly invigorating aspect of one's life. It could be a hot dog stand, or landing a job you love, or selling homemade products out of the house. It is often better to go for it without a lot of knowledge of possible drawbacks, and without the idea that if attempt 1 yields no results that it is time to quit.
That's my goal--to see some positive and not let The Man sucker me into passionate opinions about things I know little about. Like Wall Street, or any number of things I don't even think are The Man's business. More and more I attempt to resist deciding that some person or group is my enemy based upon info floated out there by The Man.
Blind and ignorant hatred is one of His favorite foods. Sure, there are misguided and even defective souls out there, but rarely is it necessary to squander my energy hating them. Most of the time I am not in a spot to do anything directly about these miscreants. Cross that bridge when I get there. And avoid contributing money to The Man's cause when possible.
When you think of it, who is really benefitting humanity more, masses of people chanting with signs, or dumping grain from rail cars, or someone who started making a product in the basement and now finds the need to hire some helpers, rent a building and continue to improve the product that people have shown they want? I think the producer is the greater humanitarian, in reality.
I've decided that in response to consumer advocates I will become a producer advocate. Anyone can consume, and, speaking for myself, their advocacy is neither needed nor wanted. It takes a lot more to produce. I'd love to figure out the game well enough to get paid to be a producer advocate.
That may be difficult. Consumer advocates make their money by slamming the product and the producer, and often unfairly. Ralph Nader got rich off it. It turns out the Corvair, when run through later government tests, proved superior to most cars on the road. But he managed to kill it without personal consequence. It became a big business--consumerism.
How can I pull the same stunt but as a producer advocate? Maybe I'd have to slam consumers, but everyone is a consumer, or he/she quickly dies. Be that as it may. I now declare myself the new voice for producer advocacy.
The Man is actually more of a force than any particular person or even institution. People and institutions can be The Man, but aren't the totality of The Man. The Man is that force which seeks to prevent you from living your life and dreams as you see fit, even if you aren't harming others. To do this He finds ways to keep you paranoid, in fear, angry, envious, confused, and sometimes full of vengeful rage.
How can you fight a thing like that? That's what I've been asking myself, and that leads me to a couple of realizations. One is that I have allowed myself to look at local, national, and world events (as presented in news media and some entertainment shows) and I've suckered right into the desired reaction; despair and a feeling of powerlessness over my life and future. The other realization is that it would be healthier to look and see the positive aspects of life.
If I didn't know about obscure, bizarre regulations which kill businesses and enterprise, I would not let that hinder my thoughts of starting some productive independent effort. Maybe it would work out, and maybe I'd just do things as well and responsibly as I think they should be done and be below the radar. It is better to do that than to let The Man convince me that mere mortals need not apply. That is His goal, and I can't say playing into it is an enlightened approach.
I do consciously make an effort not to be a part of The Man's force, and will continue to do so. And the very best way to do that is to try to avoid being suckered any more into believing that we're all doomed and that no one would pay me to do whatever it is that piques my passion. In short, I will resist the brain washing which would make slaves of us all. Or most of us, except the one's who seem to be the core of the machine that is The Man.
Certain enterprises would be better off moved to another state if any success were realized, but that is nothing to a gypsy like me. First one must begin the project and do the work to make it grow. And not be afraid to fail, or to succeed.
That doesn't mean I won't monitor public affairs, but the reality is that the news is pretty much just a droning message which is aimed toward convincing people that government is the end all and be all of life. The average journalist and news publisher is merely the government's salesman, pitching the idea that government is something greater than people and that it is your only hope for making it to the mailbox alive and for making decisions of every sort. They paint it as a god who knows best how everyone should live and think.
It gets more involved than that, and that is part of the trap. People like to puzzle things out and to have enemies, so there is something for everyone. Except me. I want out.
My happiest days have been days when I was too busy living my life to pay much attention to news and governmental hijinx; getting my heart broken, or breaking hearts, and just generally tasting the beauty of the world and life, bringing ideas to material fruition. Creative endeavors, whether of a technical, artistic or other nature, which tweak one's passion, are more than the spice of life. They are a big part of what makes the human race a special species. Those things are life enhancing and life giving.
An enterprise need not be great and earth shaking to be a spectacularly invigorating aspect of one's life. It could be a hot dog stand, or landing a job you love, or selling homemade products out of the house. It is often better to go for it without a lot of knowledge of possible drawbacks, and without the idea that if attempt 1 yields no results that it is time to quit.
That's my goal--to see some positive and not let The Man sucker me into passionate opinions about things I know little about. Like Wall Street, or any number of things I don't even think are The Man's business. More and more I attempt to resist deciding that some person or group is my enemy based upon info floated out there by The Man.
Blind and ignorant hatred is one of His favorite foods. Sure, there are misguided and even defective souls out there, but rarely is it necessary to squander my energy hating them. Most of the time I am not in a spot to do anything directly about these miscreants. Cross that bridge when I get there. And avoid contributing money to The Man's cause when possible.
When you think of it, who is really benefitting humanity more, masses of people chanting with signs, or dumping grain from rail cars, or someone who started making a product in the basement and now finds the need to hire some helpers, rent a building and continue to improve the product that people have shown they want? I think the producer is the greater humanitarian, in reality.
I've decided that in response to consumer advocates I will become a producer advocate. Anyone can consume, and, speaking for myself, their advocacy is neither needed nor wanted. It takes a lot more to produce. I'd love to figure out the game well enough to get paid to be a producer advocate.
That may be difficult. Consumer advocates make their money by slamming the product and the producer, and often unfairly. Ralph Nader got rich off it. It turns out the Corvair, when run through later government tests, proved superior to most cars on the road. But he managed to kill it without personal consequence. It became a big business--consumerism.
How can I pull the same stunt but as a producer advocate? Maybe I'd have to slam consumers, but everyone is a consumer, or he/she quickly dies. Be that as it may. I now declare myself the new voice for producer advocacy.
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About Me
- John0 Juanderlust
- Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
- Like spring on a summer's day
