I did a lot of bouncing around Facebook tonight, catching up with old friends and annoying the radicals, and checking out some happenings. I have a pretty wide reach with information and pages. I have discovered no one reads the articles they link to except for a few of us. I have also discovered Facebook is very dangerous place for anyone who is doing anything good.
I have seen in the past couple of months, 4 humane organizations shut down after getting on Facebook. It doesn't matter what kind of animal or fish is involved. All the animals in their care were killed by the governmental animal control after someone happened onto their page and started filing complaints. Often the person wasn't even in the same state.
I have seen several people posting about their homestead experience who are now out of a house and home for the holidays, put off their land and their animals killed, too.
Some of my friends just posting interesting pictures of UFO's have been attacked viciously for no reason. A few are suddenly finding they are being harassed by one or more government bodies. Life is getting very difficult for them but when you are in a field that often finds your fellow researchers dead in odd circumstances, they are perhaps better capable of taking care of themselves than other people on Facebook.
Undoubtedly Facebook has been a boon for Law Enforcement, particularly the child porn and pedophile division. That is why I cringe at some of the photos I see people publishing. Tonight I saw a proud parent post a picture of their son's swim team in wet bikini suits that I am sure had several pedophiles drooling. I only hope there isn't enough information to allow someone to track down that eye candy but I am probably hoping against the odds.
I read a heartbreaking story of someone whose life and that of a friend has been pretty much trashed because of a picture posted in bad judgement. No apologies were accepted. No one even stopped to think this person may have children to feed or how it was going to affect her relatives. No, they simply ruined her life and that of another person.
There are a lot of people out these that think this is some sort of reality show. They can destroy another person and change the channel. The people on Facebook are not real to them. They have no remorse or even compassion and they wander through public pages and look to find someone to attack. The really bad thing, they have found this garners them the attention they crave. One site managed 3,000 followers attacking some poor hapless person who probably had no idea there was a problem with a picture. They took it down but they didn't understand that once you publish something on Facebook and remove it from your timeline, it isn't gone. It is on everyone's wall and they can share it. It still exists after you delete it.
I am sure one poor person had no idea that his cell phone number was public to every person friended or subscribed to his page. I've picked up a few whack jobs playing of all things: Farmville. Can you get more benign?
Now that the election is over, all the whackoes who got off on attacking candidates and getting a big thrill from finding other whackoes to agree with them, no longer have targets. They can't get attention without a target and my friends, you are now in their crosshairs. It can be as simple as you have loved ones and they don't, a home and they don't, a lizard and they don't....I used to know someone that if we were sitting in a restaurant she would be making derogatory comments about perfect strangers and their hair or clothes. Really, what is that except jealousy and trying to show how superior you are? I am sure she has a ball tearing people down on Facebook and she is on Facebook.
As for me, I have a lot to do in the next few months and I am getting off Facebook except to play Farmville for relaxation. So if you don't hear from me, it's because I really am not here. I can access Farmville without ever going on Facebook though it may show I am on. It just isn't worth my time and energy to see perfectly good people destroyed by other people to get attention.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Who is it alright to kill this week?
One thing you need to understand is that governments, corporations, religious leaders and politicians employ well trained people to alter your opinions, to change the way you see things and to change your very core values to benefit them.
You need to understand there are two sciences: psychology and sociology.
Psychologists work with the individual and changing their behavior and thought patterns.
Most of you think sociologists direct needy people to social programs and that is truly the face you most likely see. But, there is another side you don't see or hear about. Sociologists study societies or large groups of people. They, like psychologists, learn to manipulate group opinion, values and morals.
A huge push came after WW2 to study how to manipulate large segments of society without them noticing they were being manipulated. They had watched how successfully Hitler had convinced normal, moral people to persecute and kill their friends. They wanted to know how you could change an entire nation's morals and it wasn't to protect you.
You are most familiar with advertising. You probably are familiar with the cute little skulls in the ice cubes in the alcohol ads.
Psychologists determined most drinkers were risk takers, adrenaline junkies and to put it mildly, tended to have a death wish. So, advertisers placed death imagery into alcohol ads knowing it would subliminally, below the level of conscious perception, appeal to risk takers, adrenaline junkies and people with a death wish. It was really simple and pretty straightforward except the people buying more and more alcohol didn't know they were being manipulated. Every bar in the country went with low lighting and red decor because psychologists discovered rats would drink more under low wattage red lights. Rats actually do not like alcohol and won't drink it unless forced to but under red lights, they were real little boozers. It worked very well. One could easily argue that presenting your product in the best possible light to sell it shouldn't be illegal, but there is a big difference between that and what was being done. As long as the bottle of booze is sitting on the counter and the person is telling you how great it tastes and how wonderful it will make you feel, that's straightforward. You can get up and walk away. You can make a decision. But when you don't know you are being manipulated at a level below your consciousness, is it moral? Is it just plain fair?
Manipulation can be very subtle and you are going to get very offended by what I am going to tell you next. However, you might want to let it settle a bit in your brain before you burn me at the stake because you are the one on the receiving end of this manipulation.
If I were to say to was alright to kill someone because of their color, you would scream to high heaven and your main argument would be that color has nothing to do with a person's worth. You would be 100% right.
Now, if I were to say someone should be punished more heavily for killing or assaulting a cop, you would say: absolutely.
Read what I just wrote a few times and see if you can see where you were nicely manipulated.
Okay, I'll explain. You have just said that a person putting a uniform on is more valuable than say a surgeon because you are going to deliver a greater punishment for the same crime based on who the victim is. That makes the person in that uniform better than everyone else in society. You have just given up your worth, your value as a human being to a symbol: the uniform.
Now I've heard the argument that they risk their lives for us, but the funny thing is, theirs' is not the most dangerous occupation.
The most dangerous occupation is fisherman and related jobs in the fishing industry. They have the more fatalities and injuries per year on the job! On average they make 12.30 an hour and have little to no benefits and no retirement plans. Number 2 is logging workers making 3.00 an hour more. Number 3: aircraft pilots and flight engineers. Number 4 is your local garbage and recycling handler. Those garbage trucks are killers. Number 5 is a no brainer: roofers. Number 6 is iron and steel workers. My uncle worked in the steel mills. Fatalities and injuries were a weekly thing. Number 7 is agricultural, ranchers and farmers. Them little doggies have sharp horns. Number 8 is drivers, sales workers and truck drivers. The more time you spend on the highway the higher your odds of someone hitting you. Number 9 is anyone working with electricity, installers and repairers and Number 10 is Taxi drivers and chauffeurs.
The police and military didn't even get on the list.
However, if you off a fisherman, you just get murder one and if your smack him is just plain assault and battery. Do the same thing to a cop and it is the death penalty and assaulting an officer can be nothing more than touching them.
Now, is the average cop or soldier better educated than the average person. You know the answer is no. So why did you just value their life higher than the poor trucker who delivers your food to the grocery and the man out there sweating picking up your garbage? You think nothing of flipping the bird at a trucker but you want someone who does it to a soldier tried and convicted of treason and I guarantee you, if you flip the bird at a cop you will be arrested for assault and battery though you never got in touching range of this person.
You have been conditioned to accept their authority over you as absolute. They are untouchable. They are better than you or anyone else. Their life is worth more than your child's life. They cannot be disobeyed. They can no longer be questioned.
And now, hardly a week goes by some poor unarmed idiot gets shot by a cop who felt threatened. Old ladies fleeing intruders in their homes are shot multiple times and killed because they didn't have their hearing aids in and couldn't hear the cop telling them to stop. She was in her nightgown. How much of a threat is a senior citizen in a nightgown? But you accepted it. She did not stop. You accept that if you do not obey the order of a person in uniform instantly, no matter what that order is, they have the right to kill you.
So folks, who IS it alright to kill this week? The answer is: YOU.
Don't believe me?
Then explain to me why you go to the airport and allow a person in uniform to feel you up, humiliate you and even detain you when that person is not even a policeman? They are private security guards like the old man walking the beat in shopping center. They are not trained in any avenue of law enforcement. They are the person or pervert next door putting on a uniform and you have been conditioned to obey the uniform without question. You should be very, very worried about now.
You need to understand there are two sciences: psychology and sociology.
Psychologists work with the individual and changing their behavior and thought patterns.
Most of you think sociologists direct needy people to social programs and that is truly the face you most likely see. But, there is another side you don't see or hear about. Sociologists study societies or large groups of people. They, like psychologists, learn to manipulate group opinion, values and morals.
A huge push came after WW2 to study how to manipulate large segments of society without them noticing they were being manipulated. They had watched how successfully Hitler had convinced normal, moral people to persecute and kill their friends. They wanted to know how you could change an entire nation's morals and it wasn't to protect you.
You are most familiar with advertising. You probably are familiar with the cute little skulls in the ice cubes in the alcohol ads.
Psychologists determined most drinkers were risk takers, adrenaline junkies and to put it mildly, tended to have a death wish. So, advertisers placed death imagery into alcohol ads knowing it would subliminally, below the level of conscious perception, appeal to risk takers, adrenaline junkies and people with a death wish. It was really simple and pretty straightforward except the people buying more and more alcohol didn't know they were being manipulated. Every bar in the country went with low lighting and red decor because psychologists discovered rats would drink more under low wattage red lights. Rats actually do not like alcohol and won't drink it unless forced to but under red lights, they were real little boozers. It worked very well. One could easily argue that presenting your product in the best possible light to sell it shouldn't be illegal, but there is a big difference between that and what was being done. As long as the bottle of booze is sitting on the counter and the person is telling you how great it tastes and how wonderful it will make you feel, that's straightforward. You can get up and walk away. You can make a decision. But when you don't know you are being manipulated at a level below your consciousness, is it moral? Is it just plain fair?
Manipulation can be very subtle and you are going to get very offended by what I am going to tell you next. However, you might want to let it settle a bit in your brain before you burn me at the stake because you are the one on the receiving end of this manipulation.
If I were to say to was alright to kill someone because of their color, you would scream to high heaven and your main argument would be that color has nothing to do with a person's worth. You would be 100% right.
Now, if I were to say someone should be punished more heavily for killing or assaulting a cop, you would say: absolutely.
Read what I just wrote a few times and see if you can see where you were nicely manipulated.
Okay, I'll explain. You have just said that a person putting a uniform on is more valuable than say a surgeon because you are going to deliver a greater punishment for the same crime based on who the victim is. That makes the person in that uniform better than everyone else in society. You have just given up your worth, your value as a human being to a symbol: the uniform.
Now I've heard the argument that they risk their lives for us, but the funny thing is, theirs' is not the most dangerous occupation.
The most dangerous occupation is fisherman and related jobs in the fishing industry. They have the more fatalities and injuries per year on the job! On average they make 12.30 an hour and have little to no benefits and no retirement plans. Number 2 is logging workers making 3.00 an hour more. Number 3: aircraft pilots and flight engineers. Number 4 is your local garbage and recycling handler. Those garbage trucks are killers. Number 5 is a no brainer: roofers. Number 6 is iron and steel workers. My uncle worked in the steel mills. Fatalities and injuries were a weekly thing. Number 7 is agricultural, ranchers and farmers. Them little doggies have sharp horns. Number 8 is drivers, sales workers and truck drivers. The more time you spend on the highway the higher your odds of someone hitting you. Number 9 is anyone working with electricity, installers and repairers and Number 10 is Taxi drivers and chauffeurs.
The police and military didn't even get on the list.
However, if you off a fisherman, you just get murder one and if your smack him is just plain assault and battery. Do the same thing to a cop and it is the death penalty and assaulting an officer can be nothing more than touching them.
Now, is the average cop or soldier better educated than the average person. You know the answer is no. So why did you just value their life higher than the poor trucker who delivers your food to the grocery and the man out there sweating picking up your garbage? You think nothing of flipping the bird at a trucker but you want someone who does it to a soldier tried and convicted of treason and I guarantee you, if you flip the bird at a cop you will be arrested for assault and battery though you never got in touching range of this person.
You have been conditioned to accept their authority over you as absolute. They are untouchable. They are better than you or anyone else. Their life is worth more than your child's life. They cannot be disobeyed. They can no longer be questioned.
And now, hardly a week goes by some poor unarmed idiot gets shot by a cop who felt threatened. Old ladies fleeing intruders in their homes are shot multiple times and killed because they didn't have their hearing aids in and couldn't hear the cop telling them to stop. She was in her nightgown. How much of a threat is a senior citizen in a nightgown? But you accepted it. She did not stop. You accept that if you do not obey the order of a person in uniform instantly, no matter what that order is, they have the right to kill you.
So folks, who IS it alright to kill this week? The answer is: YOU.
Don't believe me?
Then explain to me why you go to the airport and allow a person in uniform to feel you up, humiliate you and even detain you when that person is not even a policeman? They are private security guards like the old man walking the beat in shopping center. They are not trained in any avenue of law enforcement. They are the person or pervert next door putting on a uniform and you have been conditioned to obey the uniform without question. You should be very, very worried about now.
Friday, November 9, 2012
By Soul and Soil We are Connected
How do you describe a feeling, a
sensation? Words are inadequate to describe the connection between
you and those who came before you, those who share the building
blocks of your body, psyche, soul and the land that spawned you.
I had arrived in Scotland at 9 PM and
found it pitch dark unlike the city I live in here in the USA. It was
cold and we ran from the bus to the hotel for more than one reason.
The bus engine was about to throw a bearing and even at the lowest
idle, it can go right through the engine and any nearby bodies.
The hotel had kept dinner hot for us
though for the life of me, I cannot remember what it was, just that
there was an awful lot of it. I trudged up to my waiting room
expecting to spend a night under my coat on a hard bed reminiscent of
so many foreign beds that have sought to make my nights a misery.
Much to my surprise, I found a spacious room, really hot water, a
real heater and a soft bed. Scotland definitely had England beat or
perhaps the contest wasn't that fair as my bed and breakfast was
owned by Colombians.
The next morning came early and they
stuffed us to the point we lucky ladies with purses were stowing a
hearty lunch in them. If you had food left on your plate, you got the
evil eye. Then it was on another bus and the prerequisite castle.
That island is littered with the darned things. Generations must have
spent lifetimes building nothing but castles and at this point, they
really did all look alike.
But they weren't alike. The English had
kennels and displays of leashes and collars. The Scots had a
graveyard honoring the dogs that died protecting their owners. They
had monuments to their dogs. The English had stained glass ceilings
depicting the crest of every royal family, pretty novelties to remind
us of our station. The Scots had monuments and memorials to the men
who died in their wars, every day men forced to be mercenaries after
the royalty of the English starved the country economically into
servitude. No, this castle was not like all the others. It was a
memorial to the memory of the struggle of a people to survive.
After a good time during which no one
bothered to herd us about but left us to find what each needed to
see, we returned to the bus and headed toward the town square for
some shopping and lunch after which we could find our way back to the
hotel. Naturally we were nervous as we Americans simply were not
prepared for how small a major city like Edinburgh really is and
wanted maps, detailed instructions and preferably someone to hold our
hands. We were assured anyone could point us in the right direction
and if we got on the bus going the wrong way to just wait and it
would circle around to the right direction and leave us off at the
hotel. What we didn't know was there was only one main street with
shops on it and it wasn't that long.
As for me, my memories were blurred
with my vision as I watched the tourist traps whiz by and tried to
memorize the way back to pick up trinkets for stateside friends when
I felt the bus lurch to a stop. I braced myself to exit as I am and
have always been the outsider. No one ever looked like me where ever
I lived. I expected the curious stares and sneers. I expected to be
last one waited on, the last one admitted and the last one trusted.
That is the life of one who simply doesn't belong in a big way. I had
learned my lessons well, lifted my chin, smiled and stepped half way
off the bus only to freeze on the bottom step. Everyone looked just
like me. The next person in line finally gave me a gentle shove off
the bus and I stood on the narrow sidewalk, completely disappearing
within the thong of locals. I wandered a bit, completely amazed at my
new anonymity until the lure of shopping was too much and entered my
first shop.
Everyone wanted to help and quickly
shunted me to the proper clan tartans though I had not managed a word
as to what clan I belonged. Until I opened my mouth, they had no idea
I was not an out of town cousin on a shopping trip. A few blocks away
I was welcomed into a local restaurant for a lovely lunch amid the
locals. Finally I found a suitcase and convinced a Japanese store
owner I wasn't a local but a pretty savvy American, so he could cut
the crap and give me the best price on the cheap suitcase he was
trying to sell as top of the line. I think he said he'd rather deal
with the cheap Scots, but I cut my bargaining teeth in Latin American
markets.
I sat in the park for a while just
looking at the people, each could have been my brother or sister, and
marveling at everyone smiling at me and saying hello. I belonged. I
wasn't an outsider. This was where I came from at my most basic
genetic level. These were my people.
I discovered the bus trip to the hotel
was a whole 3 blocks I could have walked but they were accustomed to
Americans being weaklings. It was cold and I admit I have never felt
colder and I have been at the top of Andes in the winter, but the
chill filled me like an old friend I had not seen in a long time. As
night fell, I sat in my windowsill and looked out at King Arthur's
seat...a low hill by Scottish standards but I had been guaranteed, a
climb I probably couldn't make. I was raised in West Virginia part of
my life. I already knew distances in the mountains are deceiving. I
had carefully opened the window to take advantage of lazy wind that
doesn't bother to go around you, but cuts right through you, as I had
been told. The chill spread through every inch of my body and my
blood sang with a song older than my body as my soul called to the
mountains, lochs and heather and they answered. We were one and I was
home.
It was this feeling I recalled today in
the chill of an early autumn in Florida as I read the newspapers. The
Latino vote had shifted to at least 67% for a president that didn't
insult them by trying to wear brown face on their TV channel. But as
I read the article I came to the Cuban vote, barely hitting the 50%
mark as old men still fight a lost battle with a ruler, 50 years
older and just as strong as the day I stepped off the two engine
plane into a sweltering country, palm trees everywhere heavy with
coconuts, and people speaking a language I barely understood having
picked up my smattering of Spanish in Mexico. My mother was clinging
to my hand, scared to death of the line of men with rifles held at
ready hand as we walked to customs and then, they took her pound of
coffee. Yes, they took her coffee and explained, we grow it, we have
much better than Maxwell House here and anyway, you can't bring food
into most foreign countries. She was livid but they had guns. They
let her keep the coffee pot. Even a Latino man with a gun knows
better than to push a red head too far.
This was my home for the next almost
two years. There were orchids, something we had never seen before.
Lizards abounded everywhere unafraid of humans and reducing my mother
to squeals. I think they deliberately tortured her. Birds sang in
strange songs. Everything grew with a lush vengeance. During the
rainy season, the water fell in torrents at 3:05 PM to 3:35 PM every
day as if Mother Nature had a wrist watch accurate to the minute.
Then the steam rose and it was almost as if the rain was falling back
up into the sky. By dusk, it cleared and everything prepared for the
cooling breezes as it dried, and preened and paraded its newly
cleaned colors. A whole new world of insects came out. Spiders as big
as dinner plates stalked their dinner which could one of the
multitude of peeps or tiny frogs and toads that came out to sing in
the abundant puddles and pools. With little ambient light from the
city of Havana, the stars papered the sky like a child gone mad with
glitter and the night blooming flowers perfumed the air. There was
always music somewhere. Someone was singing and someone was dancing
as the old men traded their dominoes to assess the young women
seeking true love under the watchful eyes of their grandmothers or
aunts. And then there would be quiet except for the calls of wild and
occasional drumming and sleep came easy until they started shooting
at me, anyway, it was nice while it lasted. The whole island had a
perfumed smell to it. The humidity clung to your skin but didn't
really wet it and make you uncomfortable. Everything moved a slower
pace because life went on and was more important than time, business
or politics.
And because of old men and old wounds
and older stupidity, generations have not and will not ever know what
I felt in Scotland on my 40th birthday. They will never
truly feel like they belong. They be a demographic on someone's
chart. They will be disconnected from the land they live in always
feeling a bit out sync with everything around, yearning for something
they cannot describe and knowing for certain it is missing.
My only question to those old men
keeping hatred alive and voting against their own best interests just
to find someone willing to pay lip service to waving a saber around
is: Is it worth it? Is it really worth it? Look at your
children and your grandchildren who will never know their native soil
and many of their relatives, think of the children born and the
parents buried and answer that question with your soul. Is it worth
it? Is hatred ever worth it?
Thursday, November 8, 2012
The Failure of the American Business Economy: Hubris
Hubris is a word you may not know the definition of and I will eventually define it, so be patient.
Why is the American business world failing? Is it the huge CEO salaries and bonuses that have created a top heavy economic model where the top 1% hoard more money than anyone can spend in several lifetimes, taking that money out of circulation and starving the economy below them? The answer is probably very likely, but have you wondered how it got that way? How did we become a 3rd rate or less manufacturing based economy from the top of the food chain in just a generation or two? Could the answer to both those and more questions be the same: Hubris?
George came in and had been watching the day after summation dinner with the Republicans as the top dogs discussed why Romney/Ryan didn't win. They were brandishing such reasons around as: (1) improper branding, (2) publicity didn't properly insulate him from the accusations (3) yada-yada-yada-braf.... At no point in time did anyone simply say, we nominated two lying, idiots for the office of president running on the same old policies that got the country in this mess and few people were fooled. However, the American people have already pointed that out.
So, one might ask why no one at the top seems to see that.
It seems the man (and it always is a man) at the top cannot make a mistake. If his grand new product fails, it wasn't properly branded and introduced. No one ever says it was a bad idea and no one wanted one of them. If his economic policy fails, accounting must have made a mistake. If his employment guidelines fail, the American workers are lazy dolts. If his products fail in every sense, the workers aren't putting them together right. Heads will roll and they are always the rank and file. Bonuses will be given at the top no matter how many failures. The saying too big to fail should be too high up to fail because apparently CEO's are actually gods and cannot fail.
Why on earth do we, the lazy dolts, accept this travesty of logic?
It comes from a simple psychological concept introduced some 50 years ago. You know it now under the headings of "no child left behind" and other names. Put simply, children were rewarded whether they actually succeeded or not. Everyone was getting a star. Everyone was passing the grade. It seems to have slipped everyone's mind that some children were not ready to pass because at almost a 100% rate those children not ready to pass were immature males who had been made that way by over indulgent rich mothers with nothing else to do.
When you work, you clean, you cook, you wash and you have no help and more than one kid, the concept of spoiling and protecting one goes right out the old window. You don't have enough time. However, when the little darling is your meal ticket by carrying on the family name and legacy, you are going to wrap him in plastic bubble wrap and destroy any teacher that says he just isn't smart or mature enough to pass the grade.
Our problem is, they never got smart enough or mature enough to pass the grade and they are running things now. The fact that Romney didn't win can't possibly be Romney's fault. I keep flashing to the image of John Bohner with tears running his face because he didn't get his way...he is the Speaker of the House, not a 2 year old! Grow Up! You blow it, you take the fall, just like the rest of us. The fault REALLY is YOURS!
This insanity flows through all of American Business and Politics. THEY CAN NOT FAIL! Therefore, when we are out of work, being foreclosed on and don't have enough food to eat, they can't even conceive of the problem because THEY CAN NOT FAIL! This simply cannot happen. They have a permanent safety net. We must have one, too. Unfortunately, we can't find it.
When I was in psychiatry, I quickly noticed a disturbing trend. It was called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and it was skyrocketing. This disorder is not just a disease of the military. It affects huge numbers of "survivors" of traumatic events. When I grew up, there was the Korean War and WW II. Some men returned with this problem, but most did not. Now I was seeing most returning with it and it was spreading into the general population like a wild fire. So, I looked at the family histories of this disorder and it wasn't hard because the families were usually sitting in my office crying. It was then I saw the pattern. The closer knit, more supportive the family, the worse the condition and the more the sufferer was pushing them away. Those of us who grew up in the take care of yourself universe and don't expect us to bail you out world didn't get PTSD.
When the support mechanism the person had been conditioned to expect, Mommy and Daddy bailing them out and taking their side, failed in an accident or war, the person was first lost and traumatized, then angry that these people didn't show up and fix it and then angry at the entire world for letting them down. "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." Now, everyone is supposed to do it for you as you reap the rewards if you come from the top 53%.
The model of free loading welfare recipient (though false) is easily inserted into the psyche of the average American to replace the model of a hard working poor person who needs help with their struggle because EVERYONE HAS A SAFETY NET. No one can fail or be left behind. These people are just to lazy to use it.
After all, you attract and create your own reality. Yes dear metaphysical friends, you, too, have been duped by a well organized, psychological con game whose purpose is simply to bilk you out of the last penny and vestige of freedom you have.
News Flash: THE CEO'S FAILED. THE POLITICIANS FAILED. EVERYONE FAILS SOONER OR LATER.....It's how you learn and grow. Unfortunately the first two groups get paid billions of bucks to fail. Trust me....you won't be getting a check when you fail.
Why is the American business world failing? Is it the huge CEO salaries and bonuses that have created a top heavy economic model where the top 1% hoard more money than anyone can spend in several lifetimes, taking that money out of circulation and starving the economy below them? The answer is probably very likely, but have you wondered how it got that way? How did we become a 3rd rate or less manufacturing based economy from the top of the food chain in just a generation or two? Could the answer to both those and more questions be the same: Hubris?
George came in and had been watching the day after summation dinner with the Republicans as the top dogs discussed why Romney/Ryan didn't win. They were brandishing such reasons around as: (1) improper branding, (2) publicity didn't properly insulate him from the accusations (3) yada-yada-yada-braf.... At no point in time did anyone simply say, we nominated two lying, idiots for the office of president running on the same old policies that got the country in this mess and few people were fooled. However, the American people have already pointed that out.
So, one might ask why no one at the top seems to see that.
It seems the man (and it always is a man) at the top cannot make a mistake. If his grand new product fails, it wasn't properly branded and introduced. No one ever says it was a bad idea and no one wanted one of them. If his economic policy fails, accounting must have made a mistake. If his employment guidelines fail, the American workers are lazy dolts. If his products fail in every sense, the workers aren't putting them together right. Heads will roll and they are always the rank and file. Bonuses will be given at the top no matter how many failures. The saying too big to fail should be too high up to fail because apparently CEO's are actually gods and cannot fail.
Why on earth do we, the lazy dolts, accept this travesty of logic?
It comes from a simple psychological concept introduced some 50 years ago. You know it now under the headings of "no child left behind" and other names. Put simply, children were rewarded whether they actually succeeded or not. Everyone was getting a star. Everyone was passing the grade. It seems to have slipped everyone's mind that some children were not ready to pass because at almost a 100% rate those children not ready to pass were immature males who had been made that way by over indulgent rich mothers with nothing else to do.
When you work, you clean, you cook, you wash and you have no help and more than one kid, the concept of spoiling and protecting one goes right out the old window. You don't have enough time. However, when the little darling is your meal ticket by carrying on the family name and legacy, you are going to wrap him in plastic bubble wrap and destroy any teacher that says he just isn't smart or mature enough to pass the grade.
Our problem is, they never got smart enough or mature enough to pass the grade and they are running things now. The fact that Romney didn't win can't possibly be Romney's fault. I keep flashing to the image of John Bohner with tears running his face because he didn't get his way...he is the Speaker of the House, not a 2 year old! Grow Up! You blow it, you take the fall, just like the rest of us. The fault REALLY is YOURS!
This insanity flows through all of American Business and Politics. THEY CAN NOT FAIL! Therefore, when we are out of work, being foreclosed on and don't have enough food to eat, they can't even conceive of the problem because THEY CAN NOT FAIL! This simply cannot happen. They have a permanent safety net. We must have one, too. Unfortunately, we can't find it.
When I was in psychiatry, I quickly noticed a disturbing trend. It was called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and it was skyrocketing. This disorder is not just a disease of the military. It affects huge numbers of "survivors" of traumatic events. When I grew up, there was the Korean War and WW II. Some men returned with this problem, but most did not. Now I was seeing most returning with it and it was spreading into the general population like a wild fire. So, I looked at the family histories of this disorder and it wasn't hard because the families were usually sitting in my office crying. It was then I saw the pattern. The closer knit, more supportive the family, the worse the condition and the more the sufferer was pushing them away. Those of us who grew up in the take care of yourself universe and don't expect us to bail you out world didn't get PTSD.
When the support mechanism the person had been conditioned to expect, Mommy and Daddy bailing them out and taking their side, failed in an accident or war, the person was first lost and traumatized, then angry that these people didn't show up and fix it and then angry at the entire world for letting them down. "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." Now, everyone is supposed to do it for you as you reap the rewards if you come from the top 53%.
The model of free loading welfare recipient (though false) is easily inserted into the psyche of the average American to replace the model of a hard working poor person who needs help with their struggle because EVERYONE HAS A SAFETY NET. No one can fail or be left behind. These people are just to lazy to use it.
After all, you attract and create your own reality. Yes dear metaphysical friends, you, too, have been duped by a well organized, psychological con game whose purpose is simply to bilk you out of the last penny and vestige of freedom you have.
News Flash: THE CEO'S FAILED. THE POLITICIANS FAILED. EVERYONE FAILS SOONER OR LATER.....It's how you learn and grow. Unfortunately the first two groups get paid billions of bucks to fail. Trust me....you won't be getting a check when you fail.
hu·bris
noun \ˈhyü-brəs\Definition of HUBRIS
: exaggerated pride or self-confidence
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Bullies
I awoke this day with a common place sharp pain between my shoulders as the muscles complained blithely from being stretched the wrong way during the night. I remembered the orthopedic surgeon asking me, how and when I was injured. At the time I couldn't remember which he found suspect because an injury that severe should also be memorable. This day, in the cool darkness of my bed, I remembered and I believe I should be excused for forgetting something that happened in the 5th grade as I am 61 and it was a long time ago. The wound on my back is as fresh this day as I find it hard to raise my arms as it is in many minds for the wounds they suffered.
When I grew up there were three classes. There were the Mittens living in the world of privilege, whose parents carefully extricated them from any trouble they got into with a fat check if it was ever reported, the middle group who played see no evil, get hit with no evil, forget what you know and my group: the poor, the weak, the not so white and in particular, the female. I was poor, small and female. I also committed the sin of being pretty so I could expect no help, not even from my teachers who were charged with protecting us but in fact knew their continued employment depended on the favors of the progeny of rich and famous in the school. Poor pretty white girls were playthings to be abused and used up, then thrown away.
It was after school and like most of the poor, I had no parents in a car to pick me up as they had to work to put food on the table and no bike as it cost money to buy. We were shuttled out one side of the elementary school and just to enforce our position on our little minds, it was on the opposite side from where all of us would be heading home. That way we got to walk by our superiors getting into their cars or getting on their bikes for the leisurely ride home while we walked in 90 degree F temperatures across 4 lane highways in the dirt less than 2 miles, because that magic mark got you a ride on a school bus and we weren't worth it, home. You have to understand the school board was populated by rich men's politicians on the way up, bought and paid for, and bored society ladies coveting a picture on the society page for their 'charity' work as long as it didn't interfere with their bi-weekly beauty parlor appointment. That two mile radius was measured by taking a ruler and drawing a circle with the school as the center. We all walked way over two miles because we couldn't get home "as the crow flies". My father actually measured the walk that day at 2.5 miles. It didn't matter in social order or to the school board.
On a bet or just out of not wanting their view spoiled by kids who only had two dresses and one pair of shoes to their name, one of the rich little spoiled bullies waited for me to pass and then took a swing at me with a 3 pound book. Simply because my instinct was to survive, abused children are that way, I nodded my head a split second before the book hit with the full force of his much larger body holding it in two hands and it caught me not in the back of my head as intended but between my shoulders. I made it up the front steps before I passed out in front of the Principal's office door.
When he brought me around in his office, I told him what had happened although it was completely against the "rules" and I would be ostracized from any company for the rest of my school career. You didn't tattle on the rich kids even when they almost killed you. Had he caught me in the back of the head with the book, he would have probably snapped my neck. He out weighed me by at least 30 pounds. and 8 inches. The Principal, a gentleman, asked to see my back and when I lowered the back of my dress, we wore dresses up to our necks back then, the imprint of the book was on my back along with the embossing allowing him to clearly read the title. He quickly called my parents at work as he didn't trust me to walk home without passing out and went outside and grabbed the offender.
By the time I regained consciousness again the little bully and his parents were in the outer office where the Principal was explaining that they would not be disciplining their son as he had already been thrown out of three schools including a military academy for violence against children smaller than him. That was when my parents walked in the door. I could always tell my mother high heels clicking on the terrazzo floors. My father wore crepe soles so he would sneak up on you. The Principal turned to them and told them they had better take me to the hospital as I had passed out twice now.
That would have meant a police report and the bully's smug parents knew that wasn't happening. There was no money for a hospital and there was no insurance back then. You paid cash for medical treatment or you didn't get it. The Principal continued that the bully's father wouldn't be disciplining him as that hadn't worked the past three times; he would. The little demon spawn would show up at 8 sharp to his office where he would spend the rest of day doing his lessons until one of his parents picked him up at 3 PM or later. He didn't care, he had to work to 5 PM. The bully would not be allowed to talk, to see or eat with the other students. He was on indoor suspension. One false move and the paddle (which was a wooden board) would be used and the Principal was not a small man.
However, my father was a bigger man and when he found the little bully had hit me with a 3 pound book, now laying on the secretary's desk, he turned to the father and popped him in the jaw so fast no one even saw anything but but Mr. two hundred dollar suit hit the wall 8 feet away. He carefully warned him not to get up and that if I so much as reported I saw his son anywhere, he was coming to find the father and that time, he would not get up. I remember the little Barbie Doll wife wailing about her husband, i.e. meal ticket, being hit and my father informed her he had never hit a woman in his life, but his wife had. Now, my mother was 5 foot 6 inches and in 5 inch heels. She was not a small woman though fashionably skinny. She also had a stare that could freeze water at 10 paces. She was also beautiful and the Principal and her both hailed from West Virginia. One day a week she volunteered in the library and had lunch with Principal discussing their poor childhoods and flirting. When the words lawsuit came out of someone's mouth the Principal carefully explained, he who was now bleeding on a 50 dollar shirt must have tripped in his haste to get to his son and wives can't testify in court for or against their husbands. It seemed everyone in the room but her and the kid who was now properly scared saw her husband trip. My father assured him the next time no one would see him trip, picked me up and carried me out the door.
As I was being roughly carried out the door I heard the Principal comment that my father was Irish and had been a boxer. Being Irish meant you were subhuman, a drunk and violent. Being an Irish boxer meant you were lethal because when my father boxed, they did it bare knuckle. It was how he made enough money to pay for pilot's school after he completed the WPA aircraft mechanic's courses. He was also a mean SOB who didn't mind killing someone because humans ought to have better sense than to get in his way. He had a particular dislike for men who beat women and had broke more than one of the habit.
There was of course no hospital as there was no money. My mother spent an hour on the phone the apartment house owner provided in exchange for her management and my father's repair skills finding a doctor we could afford and finally around 6 PM she found one. When we arrived with the twenty dollars hoping he wasn't going to suggest an Xray because twenty dollars was all we had, the nurse explained to my mother something I would understand when I was much, much older. The reason the doctor was so cheap was he could only by law examine me if she and one of my parents was present in the room. He could never be allowed to see me alone. That is the kind of doctor poor kids got to see. Luckily, he was a really good pediatrician as he kept me alive for two more years through pneumonia and asthma. He did the Xray for free and said the hairline fracture would heal but I needed to stay still for a couple of months, the muscles were torn and would heal but give me trouble later in life so I should avoid manual labor and for now, the nurse had to tape my back as he wasn't allowed to touch me and hence, wrap tape around me. He also wasn't allowed to dispense pain medication so he recommended they give me a stiff shot of whiskey to put me to sleep the next couple of days. I still hate the taste of whiskey.
I also hate bullies but that is their problem because I will make it their problem. I may be a girl, but in a couple of months when I could move my shoulders again without pain, my father taught me to box and spent every penny he had saved to buy me a bike. Two years before, he had taught me basic martial arts, now he taught me not to defend myself but to take the offensive. You see, only his mother was Irish and she was beaten, used and thrown away, not even divorced, while his father married a more socially acceptable woman after three kids were born. He even gave his first born of the new family the same name as his real first born. My father was left to die in a out building because he had auburn hair and looked like his mother, by his father's mother. I have been told I am the spitting image of my grandmother but there are no pictures and I do have red hair. It doesn't matter my color comes from the Scottish Highlanders, we are all subhuman Irish in the world of privilege.
When I grew up there were three classes. There were the Mittens living in the world of privilege, whose parents carefully extricated them from any trouble they got into with a fat check if it was ever reported, the middle group who played see no evil, get hit with no evil, forget what you know and my group: the poor, the weak, the not so white and in particular, the female. I was poor, small and female. I also committed the sin of being pretty so I could expect no help, not even from my teachers who were charged with protecting us but in fact knew their continued employment depended on the favors of the progeny of rich and famous in the school. Poor pretty white girls were playthings to be abused and used up, then thrown away.
It was after school and like most of the poor, I had no parents in a car to pick me up as they had to work to put food on the table and no bike as it cost money to buy. We were shuttled out one side of the elementary school and just to enforce our position on our little minds, it was on the opposite side from where all of us would be heading home. That way we got to walk by our superiors getting into their cars or getting on their bikes for the leisurely ride home while we walked in 90 degree F temperatures across 4 lane highways in the dirt less than 2 miles, because that magic mark got you a ride on a school bus and we weren't worth it, home. You have to understand the school board was populated by rich men's politicians on the way up, bought and paid for, and bored society ladies coveting a picture on the society page for their 'charity' work as long as it didn't interfere with their bi-weekly beauty parlor appointment. That two mile radius was measured by taking a ruler and drawing a circle with the school as the center. We all walked way over two miles because we couldn't get home "as the crow flies". My father actually measured the walk that day at 2.5 miles. It didn't matter in social order or to the school board.
On a bet or just out of not wanting their view spoiled by kids who only had two dresses and one pair of shoes to their name, one of the rich little spoiled bullies waited for me to pass and then took a swing at me with a 3 pound book. Simply because my instinct was to survive, abused children are that way, I nodded my head a split second before the book hit with the full force of his much larger body holding it in two hands and it caught me not in the back of my head as intended but between my shoulders. I made it up the front steps before I passed out in front of the Principal's office door.
When he brought me around in his office, I told him what had happened although it was completely against the "rules" and I would be ostracized from any company for the rest of my school career. You didn't tattle on the rich kids even when they almost killed you. Had he caught me in the back of the head with the book, he would have probably snapped my neck. He out weighed me by at least 30 pounds. and 8 inches. The Principal, a gentleman, asked to see my back and when I lowered the back of my dress, we wore dresses up to our necks back then, the imprint of the book was on my back along with the embossing allowing him to clearly read the title. He quickly called my parents at work as he didn't trust me to walk home without passing out and went outside and grabbed the offender.
By the time I regained consciousness again the little bully and his parents were in the outer office where the Principal was explaining that they would not be disciplining their son as he had already been thrown out of three schools including a military academy for violence against children smaller than him. That was when my parents walked in the door. I could always tell my mother high heels clicking on the terrazzo floors. My father wore crepe soles so he would sneak up on you. The Principal turned to them and told them they had better take me to the hospital as I had passed out twice now.
That would have meant a police report and the bully's smug parents knew that wasn't happening. There was no money for a hospital and there was no insurance back then. You paid cash for medical treatment or you didn't get it. The Principal continued that the bully's father wouldn't be disciplining him as that hadn't worked the past three times; he would. The little demon spawn would show up at 8 sharp to his office where he would spend the rest of day doing his lessons until one of his parents picked him up at 3 PM or later. He didn't care, he had to work to 5 PM. The bully would not be allowed to talk, to see or eat with the other students. He was on indoor suspension. One false move and the paddle (which was a wooden board) would be used and the Principal was not a small man.
However, my father was a bigger man and when he found the little bully had hit me with a 3 pound book, now laying on the secretary's desk, he turned to the father and popped him in the jaw so fast no one even saw anything but but Mr. two hundred dollar suit hit the wall 8 feet away. He carefully warned him not to get up and that if I so much as reported I saw his son anywhere, he was coming to find the father and that time, he would not get up. I remember the little Barbie Doll wife wailing about her husband, i.e. meal ticket, being hit and my father informed her he had never hit a woman in his life, but his wife had. Now, my mother was 5 foot 6 inches and in 5 inch heels. She was not a small woman though fashionably skinny. She also had a stare that could freeze water at 10 paces. She was also beautiful and the Principal and her both hailed from West Virginia. One day a week she volunteered in the library and had lunch with Principal discussing their poor childhoods and flirting. When the words lawsuit came out of someone's mouth the Principal carefully explained, he who was now bleeding on a 50 dollar shirt must have tripped in his haste to get to his son and wives can't testify in court for or against their husbands. It seemed everyone in the room but her and the kid who was now properly scared saw her husband trip. My father assured him the next time no one would see him trip, picked me up and carried me out the door.
As I was being roughly carried out the door I heard the Principal comment that my father was Irish and had been a boxer. Being Irish meant you were subhuman, a drunk and violent. Being an Irish boxer meant you were lethal because when my father boxed, they did it bare knuckle. It was how he made enough money to pay for pilot's school after he completed the WPA aircraft mechanic's courses. He was also a mean SOB who didn't mind killing someone because humans ought to have better sense than to get in his way. He had a particular dislike for men who beat women and had broke more than one of the habit.
There was of course no hospital as there was no money. My mother spent an hour on the phone the apartment house owner provided in exchange for her management and my father's repair skills finding a doctor we could afford and finally around 6 PM she found one. When we arrived with the twenty dollars hoping he wasn't going to suggest an Xray because twenty dollars was all we had, the nurse explained to my mother something I would understand when I was much, much older. The reason the doctor was so cheap was he could only by law examine me if she and one of my parents was present in the room. He could never be allowed to see me alone. That is the kind of doctor poor kids got to see. Luckily, he was a really good pediatrician as he kept me alive for two more years through pneumonia and asthma. He did the Xray for free and said the hairline fracture would heal but I needed to stay still for a couple of months, the muscles were torn and would heal but give me trouble later in life so I should avoid manual labor and for now, the nurse had to tape my back as he wasn't allowed to touch me and hence, wrap tape around me. He also wasn't allowed to dispense pain medication so he recommended they give me a stiff shot of whiskey to put me to sleep the next couple of days. I still hate the taste of whiskey.
I also hate bullies but that is their problem because I will make it their problem. I may be a girl, but in a couple of months when I could move my shoulders again without pain, my father taught me to box and spent every penny he had saved to buy me a bike. Two years before, he had taught me basic martial arts, now he taught me not to defend myself but to take the offensive. You see, only his mother was Irish and she was beaten, used and thrown away, not even divorced, while his father married a more socially acceptable woman after three kids were born. He even gave his first born of the new family the same name as his real first born. My father was left to die in a out building because he had auburn hair and looked like his mother, by his father's mother. I have been told I am the spitting image of my grandmother but there are no pictures and I do have red hair. It doesn't matter my color comes from the Scottish Highlanders, we are all subhuman Irish in the world of privilege.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
The Curious Non-War
When our ambassador to Libya was murdered in a mortar attack on his envoy, the Teapublican darling, Mittens, was ready to start a war and bomb Libya into the desert. We can maintain a war on two fronts he claimed and in fact, we are pretty good at maintaining a war on more than two fronts. Let's get 'em, those dirty Muslims. Pictures of our not so dead looking corpse littered the internet from the Teapublicans, with no regard for the effect on his friends and family, being desecrated by those Muslim terrorists.
A few sane voices pointed out that he didn't look that dead, there was no blood and a mortar or rocket launcher tends to tear you into small pieces. In fact his cloths didn't even look dirty and it appeared those horrible Muslims were carrying him to safety, not desecrating his corpse.
Then the rocket launcher attack on his vehicle turned into a sniper attack on him as his party ran from the embassy which turned into a planned assassination as he was lured out of the embassy because why would a sane person run out of a nice concrete building reinforced against sniper attacks to get into a flimsy metal object called a foreign car while people were shooting at them. Still there was the little problem of how you get shot or blown up and there is NO blood. Large or small holes in the body have a tendency to cause BLEEDING.
Yet, Mittens was getting good mileage out of meeting, he thinks, the saintly Navy Seal that was killed with our ambassador until the seal's mother requests he stop using her son for a political advantage. There is more to that story than her possibly being an Obama supporter, much, much more.
So what is the truth, because so far we have lies and misinformation designed to start a war that fizzled because the people in this area loved our ambassador and loved the people he was with. They mourned him for more than a political talking point to win an election.They mourned him and his people because they were their friends and their hope for peace. We may never know the truth because it is too awful for most of you to contemplate. We may never know the truth because you aren't ready to know it.
What we do know is according to the death certificate after someone managed to actually find the hospital .......and you know how many hospitals these countries have.....why they are on every corner: NOT....he was taken to, he died of SMOKE INHALATION. He wasn't blown to bits or shot multiple times. He died of smoke inhalation while in the company of a Navy Seal, who is trained and retrained to prevent just that. Those dirty Muslims were pulling him to safety from a burning building......er wait a minute...the embassy didn't burn down....huh?
Ah yes, the safe room in the Embassy burned down killing everyone, leaving the embassy in tact, from a fire started by a bunch of bearded men (a real rarity in that area of the world: sarcasm) using diesel fuel which burns really dirty and that's why the Navy Seal couldn't save them.
Look, at this point every good old boy card carrying Klan member in the South with a truck should saying: HUH? For you city folk who have FOX memory syndrome, diesel fuel was promoted as the best alternative to gasoline for two reasons in the 80's. Number one was it was super cheap and number two was, it doesn't burn or explode. To burn diesel fuel you have to have something lit under it. Then it will produce a lot of dirty smoke but you have to keep fanning it and you have to keep the source of the fire burning. Once on its own, it just peters out.
Our intelligence agency can't find an ambassador and his party in a city with a limited number of hospitals and no one can get their hands on the death certificate, issued within hours of him arriving at said hospital, to see that he didn't die from gun shots or explosions but smoke inhalation for weeks. I think we need to fire them, no pun intended.
So what really happened?
You aren't ready for the truth.
The embassy had requested increased security forces at least a week before the "event" because of the rioting and was turned down. Protocol states the turn down had to come from the MILITARY. The Foreign Service, who our ambassadors and embassy staff work for, has no security forces of their own. They are diplomats. The MILITARY provides their security or at least it used to.
It seems aside from this Navy Seal, who was a friend of the group, the security for them and the embassy was being provided by a private company, i.e. one of the incarnations of Halliburton and Black Water. You remember them. They are VP under Bush, Cheney's old buddies in Iraq that ran the cost of the war up into the billions with their bill alone. These "professional soldiers" make 3 to 10 times what your sons and daughters in uniform make and you pay the bill. They are better equipped and better trained. That's why they make the big bucks or are they?
In this case, these highly paid "security consultants" (sounds so much better than mercenaries and so much more expensive) consisted of 20 year old kids that hid on the roof claiming large numbers of bearded men communicating with hand signs, scaled the walls and set the safe room on fire while they decided, as a security force, not to even take one shot at this invading force or make any attempt to stop them. Gee, I wonder what they were being paid to do; make up fanciful stories. That one ranks up there with mythical bunnies hopping down the bunny trail...or perhaps a better explanation of their job is to repeat the story they are told. The religious dupes being convinced to die for Allah or Jesus, tend to explode things, scream religious sayings and kill themselves for 15 or more virgins. They don't scale walls, sneak into buildings, set small fires and sneak out again, never claiming credit. So, who does that kind of work? That would be the guys on the roof or our own intelligence agencies that can't find a hospital.
The ambassador killed was bringing peace to the area. One man was in charge of destroying weapons in the area. One man was a leader in the fight for religious freedom in the MILITARY...yes you read that right. He was one of the founding members of a group trying to keep the Evangelic Christian Jihad from taking complete control of the military and throwing every other religious person, Jew, Catholic, Protestant, Baptist, Muslim, Buddhist, Wiccan, Pagan, etc., out of the military and turning the Military into their little private, well equipped Army of God. Another was a gamer and by definition a nerd who may have also had a few talents at uncovering information on the Net. They were a dangerous group of men but not to the Muslims,
Al-Qaeda or mysterious bearded firebugs that scale walls (do you have any idea how hard it is to climb a concrete wall?) but to a select group of religious extremists in the Military that scream Jeesus at every opportunity and want to make this a Holy War of epic proportions on both foreign and domestic soil.
I told you, you aren't ready for the truth.
So far, this group has flown so far under the radar, like those bearded firebugs, that the average American and possibly the President himself is totally unaware of their existence and influence as they amass both conventional weapons and WMD's with your tax dollars under the guise of the Defense Department/Military to be used on you and the rest of the world.
Now my dear readers do you know why we spend more on our military than the entire world combined in one year? Have you awakened enough to answer the question: who are we defending ourselves against? The answer is simple: YOU. Are these Evangelic Christian Soldiers working for GOD? Not the one in any of your religious texts (and I don't care if you are a Satanist) but they are working for one and they intend to reduce the world's population by 3/4 and you are in that 3/4's. They use candidates that are so addled they don't know the truth from a lie and who are religious extremists of one kind or the other...they don't care which...to do their bidding and if that fails, there is black mail or the promise of riches and power and the ever popular 15 virgins among the really dumb, and for the more intelligent: children for their pleasure and barbie dolls in human form.
They recruit men with delusions of being saviors with 40 pounds of guns, ammo and explosives strapped to their backs and/or playing soldier in SWAT teams or police uniforms saving the world from evil which seems to be unarmed, often even naked men and old ladies in their nightgowns by pumping them full of 5 or more rounds of hollow points guaranteed to kill. They are the Christian Soldiers that make every Sunday service and kick, taser, tear gas and beat up unarmed protesters that dare to question the banks, big corporations and Wall Street, their employers and real god.
They are in place. They are armed to the teeth. They are crazy as dingbats. They each have a specific group (gay, hippie, female, old, not white, isn't as godly as me, fill in the blank) of people they are ticked off at and want to hurt, rape or kill, AND THEY HAVE THE POWER TO DO SO WITH LEGAL IMMUNITY...under the command of...well...that be the rub, doesn't it. You have no idea who. You've never seen them. You don't know their name. You just know their minions. They are coming out of the woodwork and giving you a taste of the rest of your life....you just aren't paying attention.
See, I told you; you aren't ready for the truth.
Be afraid....be very afraid.
and then VOTE!
3/4's fighting for their lives (and it is your life you are fighting for) beats 1/4 delusional saviors.
Numbers always win.
Why am I not afraid to publish this? I know I am already at the top of their list. I have nothing to lose. I am at the end of my life. I have no family to be threatened. Today, ten years from now...my death is inconsequential....but just remember...you can't kill the truth or an idea. It will live on, forever in the minds and/or cyberspace.
Welcome to the New World Order...the real one...not the one on the conspiracy sites...not the world government...not the world currency...not the Federal Reserve...though all may be tools..they are not the HEAD. You have never seen the HEAD. You probably don't want to.
A few sane voices pointed out that he didn't look that dead, there was no blood and a mortar or rocket launcher tends to tear you into small pieces. In fact his cloths didn't even look dirty and it appeared those horrible Muslims were carrying him to safety, not desecrating his corpse.
Then the rocket launcher attack on his vehicle turned into a sniper attack on him as his party ran from the embassy which turned into a planned assassination as he was lured out of the embassy because why would a sane person run out of a nice concrete building reinforced against sniper attacks to get into a flimsy metal object called a foreign car while people were shooting at them. Still there was the little problem of how you get shot or blown up and there is NO blood. Large or small holes in the body have a tendency to cause BLEEDING.
Yet, Mittens was getting good mileage out of meeting, he thinks, the saintly Navy Seal that was killed with our ambassador until the seal's mother requests he stop using her son for a political advantage. There is more to that story than her possibly being an Obama supporter, much, much more.
So what is the truth, because so far we have lies and misinformation designed to start a war that fizzled because the people in this area loved our ambassador and loved the people he was with. They mourned him for more than a political talking point to win an election.They mourned him and his people because they were their friends and their hope for peace. We may never know the truth because it is too awful for most of you to contemplate. We may never know the truth because you aren't ready to know it.
What we do know is according to the death certificate after someone managed to actually find the hospital .......and you know how many hospitals these countries have.....why they are on every corner: NOT....he was taken to, he died of SMOKE INHALATION. He wasn't blown to bits or shot multiple times. He died of smoke inhalation while in the company of a Navy Seal, who is trained and retrained to prevent just that. Those dirty Muslims were pulling him to safety from a burning building......er wait a minute...the embassy didn't burn down....huh?
Ah yes, the safe room in the Embassy burned down killing everyone, leaving the embassy in tact, from a fire started by a bunch of bearded men (a real rarity in that area of the world: sarcasm) using diesel fuel which burns really dirty and that's why the Navy Seal couldn't save them.
Look, at this point every good old boy card carrying Klan member in the South with a truck should saying: HUH? For you city folk who have FOX memory syndrome, diesel fuel was promoted as the best alternative to gasoline for two reasons in the 80's. Number one was it was super cheap and number two was, it doesn't burn or explode. To burn diesel fuel you have to have something lit under it. Then it will produce a lot of dirty smoke but you have to keep fanning it and you have to keep the source of the fire burning. Once on its own, it just peters out.
Our intelligence agency can't find an ambassador and his party in a city with a limited number of hospitals and no one can get their hands on the death certificate, issued within hours of him arriving at said hospital, to see that he didn't die from gun shots or explosions but smoke inhalation for weeks. I think we need to fire them, no pun intended.
So what really happened?
You aren't ready for the truth.
The embassy had requested increased security forces at least a week before the "event" because of the rioting and was turned down. Protocol states the turn down had to come from the MILITARY. The Foreign Service, who our ambassadors and embassy staff work for, has no security forces of their own. They are diplomats. The MILITARY provides their security or at least it used to.
It seems aside from this Navy Seal, who was a friend of the group, the security for them and the embassy was being provided by a private company, i.e. one of the incarnations of Halliburton and Black Water. You remember them. They are VP under Bush, Cheney's old buddies in Iraq that ran the cost of the war up into the billions with their bill alone. These "professional soldiers" make 3 to 10 times what your sons and daughters in uniform make and you pay the bill. They are better equipped and better trained. That's why they make the big bucks or are they?
In this case, these highly paid "security consultants" (sounds so much better than mercenaries and so much more expensive) consisted of 20 year old kids that hid on the roof claiming large numbers of bearded men communicating with hand signs, scaled the walls and set the safe room on fire while they decided, as a security force, not to even take one shot at this invading force or make any attempt to stop them. Gee, I wonder what they were being paid to do; make up fanciful stories. That one ranks up there with mythical bunnies hopping down the bunny trail...or perhaps a better explanation of their job is to repeat the story they are told. The religious dupes being convinced to die for Allah or Jesus, tend to explode things, scream religious sayings and kill themselves for 15 or more virgins. They don't scale walls, sneak into buildings, set small fires and sneak out again, never claiming credit. So, who does that kind of work? That would be the guys on the roof or our own intelligence agencies that can't find a hospital.
The ambassador killed was bringing peace to the area. One man was in charge of destroying weapons in the area. One man was a leader in the fight for religious freedom in the MILITARY...yes you read that right. He was one of the founding members of a group trying to keep the Evangelic Christian Jihad from taking complete control of the military and throwing every other religious person, Jew, Catholic, Protestant, Baptist, Muslim, Buddhist, Wiccan, Pagan, etc., out of the military and turning the Military into their little private, well equipped Army of God. Another was a gamer and by definition a nerd who may have also had a few talents at uncovering information on the Net. They were a dangerous group of men but not to the Muslims,
Al-Qaeda or mysterious bearded firebugs that scale walls (do you have any idea how hard it is to climb a concrete wall?) but to a select group of religious extremists in the Military that scream Jeesus at every opportunity and want to make this a Holy War of epic proportions on both foreign and domestic soil.
I told you, you aren't ready for the truth.
So far, this group has flown so far under the radar, like those bearded firebugs, that the average American and possibly the President himself is totally unaware of their existence and influence as they amass both conventional weapons and WMD's with your tax dollars under the guise of the Defense Department/Military to be used on you and the rest of the world.
Now my dear readers do you know why we spend more on our military than the entire world combined in one year? Have you awakened enough to answer the question: who are we defending ourselves against? The answer is simple: YOU. Are these Evangelic Christian Soldiers working for GOD? Not the one in any of your religious texts (and I don't care if you are a Satanist) but they are working for one and they intend to reduce the world's population by 3/4 and you are in that 3/4's. They use candidates that are so addled they don't know the truth from a lie and who are religious extremists of one kind or the other...they don't care which...to do their bidding and if that fails, there is black mail or the promise of riches and power and the ever popular 15 virgins among the really dumb, and for the more intelligent: children for their pleasure and barbie dolls in human form.
They recruit men with delusions of being saviors with 40 pounds of guns, ammo and explosives strapped to their backs and/or playing soldier in SWAT teams or police uniforms saving the world from evil which seems to be unarmed, often even naked men and old ladies in their nightgowns by pumping them full of 5 or more rounds of hollow points guaranteed to kill. They are the Christian Soldiers that make every Sunday service and kick, taser, tear gas and beat up unarmed protesters that dare to question the banks, big corporations and Wall Street, their employers and real god.
They are in place. They are armed to the teeth. They are crazy as dingbats. They each have a specific group (gay, hippie, female, old, not white, isn't as godly as me, fill in the blank) of people they are ticked off at and want to hurt, rape or kill, AND THEY HAVE THE POWER TO DO SO WITH LEGAL IMMUNITY...under the command of...well...that be the rub, doesn't it. You have no idea who. You've never seen them. You don't know their name. You just know their minions. They are coming out of the woodwork and giving you a taste of the rest of your life....you just aren't paying attention.
See, I told you; you aren't ready for the truth.
Be afraid....be very afraid.
and then VOTE!
3/4's fighting for their lives (and it is your life you are fighting for) beats 1/4 delusional saviors.
Numbers always win.
Why am I not afraid to publish this? I know I am already at the top of their list. I have nothing to lose. I am at the end of my life. I have no family to be threatened. Today, ten years from now...my death is inconsequential....but just remember...you can't kill the truth or an idea. It will live on, forever in the minds and/or cyberspace.
Welcome to the New World Order...the real one...not the one on the conspiracy sites...not the world government...not the world currency...not the Federal Reserve...though all may be tools..they are not the HEAD. You have never seen the HEAD. You probably don't want to.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Why The Lie?
The Republican National Convention is being described a train wreck for the truth. Speech after speech was made repeating the same well known lies over and over to the point their own bought and paid for media began jumping ship. Devoid of journalist integrity, these Foxbots finally could no longer embarrass themselves by pretending to be journalists and sail on the ship of lies that has been so proven false it should have spontaneously combusted.
But the question of the week has to be WHY?
Romney had the delegates to win the nomination. All he had to do was make his acceptance speech and move onto continuing campaigning. The odds of him losing the nomination were small......BUT THERE.
Then, WHY the LIES?
What you saw was a demonstration of the new order of the new Republican Party and you didn't even notice because the LIES were so BLATANT you focused on THEM and not the complete disregard for the democratic procedure of producing a candidate. See, I just did it to you with that sentence. I bet you can't tell me what I really said.
I am not fan of Ron Paul, but everyone totally missed the mark on what happened there. Let me explain what used to be the DEMOCRATIC process of choosing a REPUBLICAN OR DEMOCRATIC candidate because it died this week. Delegates would arrive at the convention pledged to a candidate with their candidate. Keep in mind this was before computers, powerpoint and word processing. All of this had to be done by hand by people with a cadre of typewriters that didn't have spell check or self correct. There were no dinosaurs involved.
Each candidate, whether he had one vote or a thousand, had his moment on the stage to state his position and thank his delegates for their people's support. It was loud, emotional and fair because every candidate no matter how whacked had given it their all and in the end, each one would get a plank in what was to be the platform. The winner got the majority of planks. The losers often got nothing more than lip service, but they got that.
And then vote was taken, one by one, each recognized and tallied. Delegates, though pledged to a candidate, could "vote their conscience" or jump ship and go with another candidate. Until the votes were finally tallied there was room for the popular candidate to go down in flames.
The Republican National Convention was the most formal, nitpicking, stick to the rules and protocol production of the two. Yes, there was partying bordering on rioting, shouting matches and even a couple of fist fights, but the BUSINESS OF THE CONVENTION WAS ELECTING A CANDIDATE and creating a platform for the campaign.
The week, the delegates for other contenders were told to STFU, sit down and smile sweetly at your lord and master we have chosen for you. The contenders were told they could give a speech praising the lord and master we have chosen for you and HE will vet your speech to make certain it is acceptable to HIM. The convention itself was a Praise the LORD and master we have chosen for you and bow down to the BUSINESSES we have chosen to PRAISE your new LORD and master as they deliver their speeches of adulation and endorsement.
WTF!
You have non-delegates giving speeches endorsing a person who is NOT yet THE CANDIDATE! The candidate doesn't exist until the final tally of votes. WAKE UP! Democracy even in this Republic DIED this week. You have seen the face of the New Republican Order and you were so focused on the LIES, you didn't even notice.
And that was the plan.
NOW, will you allow this to continue through the election, blindly follow the talking points and blatant lies or will you realize that a dictatorship has been installed in what was the Republican Party and is running for the office of President and Congress? Do you see the policy of OBSTRUCTIONISM for what it really has been for the last two years? It is an installation of a dictatorship in the Republican ranks where a Congressperson is no longer free to say, "Hey, you know what, this is not what my people elected me to do," but instead has to lockstep or in their case goosestep to the party line.
The primary foundation of a Democracy or a Republic is the freedom of its representatives to represent their electors and their conscience and not a governing party.
That is no longer true in the Republican Party. It was proven in Congress for two years and it was nailed shut in a coffin and delivered this week in Tampa.
Democracy is dead in one half of the two party system and a dictatorship has replaced it. The really sad part is, you don't yet know who is running it. Is it really the Romney/Ryan ticket, the Koch brothers, a consortium of corporations, the military (who has the most to lose this election) or something behind the curtain we have yet to see? You will probably never know until the last moment. But I can guarantee, whatever is behind that curtain is something you don't want to see.
But the question of the week has to be WHY?
Romney had the delegates to win the nomination. All he had to do was make his acceptance speech and move onto continuing campaigning. The odds of him losing the nomination were small......BUT THERE.
Then, WHY the LIES?
What you saw was a demonstration of the new order of the new Republican Party and you didn't even notice because the LIES were so BLATANT you focused on THEM and not the complete disregard for the democratic procedure of producing a candidate. See, I just did it to you with that sentence. I bet you can't tell me what I really said.
I am not fan of Ron Paul, but everyone totally missed the mark on what happened there. Let me explain what used to be the DEMOCRATIC process of choosing a REPUBLICAN OR DEMOCRATIC candidate because it died this week. Delegates would arrive at the convention pledged to a candidate with their candidate. Keep in mind this was before computers, powerpoint and word processing. All of this had to be done by hand by people with a cadre of typewriters that didn't have spell check or self correct. There were no dinosaurs involved.
Each candidate, whether he had one vote or a thousand, had his moment on the stage to state his position and thank his delegates for their people's support. It was loud, emotional and fair because every candidate no matter how whacked had given it their all and in the end, each one would get a plank in what was to be the platform. The winner got the majority of planks. The losers often got nothing more than lip service, but they got that.
And then vote was taken, one by one, each recognized and tallied. Delegates, though pledged to a candidate, could "vote their conscience" or jump ship and go with another candidate. Until the votes were finally tallied there was room for the popular candidate to go down in flames.
The Republican National Convention was the most formal, nitpicking, stick to the rules and protocol production of the two. Yes, there was partying bordering on rioting, shouting matches and even a couple of fist fights, but the BUSINESS OF THE CONVENTION WAS ELECTING A CANDIDATE and creating a platform for the campaign.
The week, the delegates for other contenders were told to STFU, sit down and smile sweetly at your lord and master we have chosen for you. The contenders were told they could give a speech praising the lord and master we have chosen for you and HE will vet your speech to make certain it is acceptable to HIM. The convention itself was a Praise the LORD and master we have chosen for you and bow down to the BUSINESSES we have chosen to PRAISE your new LORD and master as they deliver their speeches of adulation and endorsement.
WTF!
You have non-delegates giving speeches endorsing a person who is NOT yet THE CANDIDATE! The candidate doesn't exist until the final tally of votes. WAKE UP! Democracy even in this Republic DIED this week. You have seen the face of the New Republican Order and you were so focused on the LIES, you didn't even notice.
And that was the plan.
NOW, will you allow this to continue through the election, blindly follow the talking points and blatant lies or will you realize that a dictatorship has been installed in what was the Republican Party and is running for the office of President and Congress? Do you see the policy of OBSTRUCTIONISM for what it really has been for the last two years? It is an installation of a dictatorship in the Republican ranks where a Congressperson is no longer free to say, "Hey, you know what, this is not what my people elected me to do," but instead has to lockstep or in their case goosestep to the party line.
The primary foundation of a Democracy or a Republic is the freedom of its representatives to represent their electors and their conscience and not a governing party.
That is no longer true in the Republican Party. It was proven in Congress for two years and it was nailed shut in a coffin and delivered this week in Tampa.
Democracy is dead in one half of the two party system and a dictatorship has replaced it. The really sad part is, you don't yet know who is running it. Is it really the Romney/Ryan ticket, the Koch brothers, a consortium of corporations, the military (who has the most to lose this election) or something behind the curtain we have yet to see? You will probably never know until the last moment. But I can guarantee, whatever is behind that curtain is something you don't want to see.
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