Illegal opportunities

I think since the 70's -- or earlier (when did the Miranda case happen...?) -- I've found our legal system very confusing. I'm sure it helps little having an attorney as a father. Dad is the original contradictory man. The greatest issue which bothers me is that a detctive's job has nothing to do with finding the actual guilty party, but rather finding someone -- anyone -- who fits the profile. So long as some individual had motive & opportunity, that person is considered guilty at lest till they are found "not-guilty" in court.

Then, of course, in a criminal case, one has to deal with a lawyer who may not be able to talk as good a game as the opposing attorney & a group of people who are intended to be -- but certainly aren't -- one's peers. Does this really make sense to anyone?

What prompts me to bring this subject up is what was once (although it may still be) referred to as "entrapment". We don't hear this term any longer, but rather what would lead to it. We hear the word "sting" -- which, as anyone who'd seen the movie of the same title knows, is a term used in grifting, or, the art of the con. Would this not imply that one is trying illegally to take something from another...?

Now, I certainly don't condone the act of sex with any minor, but I just saw part of one of these "stings" performed by the talking monkeys at 20/20. I suspect they've done this in past & found that their ratings were high, in turn they do it again.

What they'd done was hire an eighteen year old girl to pose as a thirteen year old girl. Why any man over the age of eighteen would really do more than experience a short fantasy -- whether a good thing or bad in itself -- of sex with a thirteen year old girl confuses me alone. But, then to actually seek to meet &, perhaps, have sex with the girl completely boggles my mind.

Apart from what I or anyone else thinks about such a coupling, what incredible stupidity would possess one to pursue such when there are countless stories in the news about this very thing? Do these people really think themselves special? Do they believe they could either get away or continue to get away with this when so much of society is driving arrests, convictions, & a life of being hounded by neighbours & the law for doing something clearly not acceptable by society's standards?

But my point -- & do not think that I am suggesting for an instant that I think those seeking sex with under-age kids should be left alone or are innocent of a crime -- is that such "stings" are wrong as well.

I don't care if we're talking about the sale of drugs, prostitution, insurance fraud, or child molestation. What we're talking about is fraudulently representing yourself. Forget the fact that in reality the young woman who was posing as a thirteen year old girl is actually eighteen & of legal age, forget the fact that while the police perform these fraudulent acts frequently for the purpose of getting someone to incriminate themselves, but that the eighteen year old girl & 20/20 bozos were working with the cops in an even greater sham than the original "sting". Worse -- those very cops were in hiding till after the 20/20 producer walked out, like Allen Funt from Candid Camera, to explain the situation.

If indeed this were truly legal, what are the cops hiding from?

Just another day

I've never really been anything like a fan of the 4^th of July. Ignoring the fact that our history appears to be a complete sham, the idea that we had become free of the "tyranny" of Britain is fine. Of course, we're still taxed heavily & continually find our rights being eroded -- what life, liberty, & pursuit of happiness? This day, apart from all the noise making & oohs & ahhs, is still just another excuse to get drunk.

But, as any other day, I start off with coffee, & the 'Net. While reading a Craig's List post about a guy who likes to masturbate with a room temperature cucumber in his ass, I noticed over the sound of my new $150.00 stereo which I'd picked up for $40.00, that there were no sounds outside. There wasn't the constant sound of diesel/hybrid/electric busses, countless cars, trucks & motorcycles, loud & obnoxious people passing my apartment, there was no sound of jet, prop planes or helicopters flying over my building. There wasn't even the sound of the few birds in the neighbourhood who often venture close to my dungeon apartment making their call to others of the opposite sex. There was nothing. And it was sweet.

Of course, I still have to deal with the annoyances of my modern life: The attorneys demanding payment for closed credit accounts, a couple of utilities still whining that I've not paid them, my land-lord claiming that he can raise my rent $150.00 a month before my lease is up because of the "going rate" when I've only now found a job paying a so-so wage. Worse, I can't even find a local source for Deadman's Reach coffee now my favourite cafe has closed its doors! But on this morning of all mornings, I have some semblance of peace.

My Mystical Life

Prompted by a misunderstood joke I'd made to my best friend who'd retaliated by indirectly accusing me of repeating past patterns, as well as my oldest friend having sent me an article by Isaac Bonewits -- a man who, like me, had read, perhaps, a great deal more than he should & whom I'd met on more than one occasion many years ago in San Francisco & who reminds me of my own failings -- has led to my thinking about the differences between my past life & this new one in which I find myself.

I was raised, at my dear grandmother's insistence, a good Catholic boy. That's right, your intrepid, wandering fool, was baptized into the Catholic Church. While my memories of this period are primarily of the fact that after catechism I got to spend the whole of the day with my beloved grandmother, I still remember a profound confusion over the whole study & worship of Jesus. He seemed nothing more -- even to my child's mind -- than a conglomeration, a fictionalization, of a number of prophets, so-called, of that period known as "biblical times". I have since, though, realized that while the Church stands behind a male figure, xianity is really worshiping the Mother, the Goddess figure, in their practice.

This realization had been a long time coming. While I bill myself as "the most pagan Zen Buddhist you'll ever meet", I really am referring to something entirely different than these words imply. But this would lead to my explaining the truth behind all mysticism, the Great Secret, & my Zen simply won't allow me to be so arrogant as to assume others either don't know this "secret", or to lead anyone "astray".

When I was approximately ten years old -- having been a lover of rather adult concepts (Shakespeare's tragedies & sonnets being my favourite works in print -- when I found myself fortunate enough to find the school library had an entire, very tall, book case dedicated to the subjects of Satanism, witchcraft & the history of witchcraft. All this year in school, every week, I would check out the maximum number of books one was allowed (I think that number was twenty) from this very book case. I would, in addition to my usual homework, pour over each & every word of these books.

Needless to say -- due to my inquisitiveness -- the next year at school, I'd found that this case had been cleaned of each title I'd previously checked out. Did this deter me? Certainly not. I was hungry for knowledge of things unacceptable, but I did have to satisfy my thirst with titles of a more religious, albeit comparative, nature.

Over the following years & after moving to San Jose California, I'd begun studying books particularly of a more mystical bent. One can only learn so much from the lay texts written about religious practice. It was some years later, in college, that I'd begun -- due to an acute attraction to Asian women -- studying the works of Buddhism. This started with titles claiming to be the words of Gautama Buddha.

I'd continued studying, following the Boddhisattva's paths, into China & the mingling of Buddhism with Taoism, all the way to a more modern approach by the various schools of Zen in Japan. After reading a number of books of the teachings of Japanese Zen Masters, I'd found a book by a Chinese Master who had taught in Japan. This was Master Huang Po. His teachings alone are those which got me to finally sit down & meditate.

Having accepted Huang Po's view of Zen, I still continued studying mysticism & magic. I had read many references to Aleister Crowley, but till acting in a short play written by my oldest friend mentioned above, & needing a set of Tarot cards as a prop, I'd not studied any Crowley. From the minute I'd cracked Crowley's Book of Thoth I was astounded at the clarity & command of English of this writer.

Naturally, whether Crowley really possessed any occult knowledge or not, I have been heavily influenced by his work & Thelemic -- Thelema being the philosophy he'd expounded -- thought, that the aspect of Godhead referred to as the Goddess is what drives me. As evidenced, I have read countless books on all forms of religion & mysticism, both good & bad. Like technical manuals, all too many of these authors had little idea how to actually write, & all too many pretended to possess the knowledge they claimed.

My point is that being influenced by the Goddess, or the feminine form of Godhead, rather forces one to be introspective, as opposed to forcing one's beliefs on others. I am no better than any one -- despite my supposed intelligence.

A few years ago, I had extricated myself from an eight-year relationship with a woman whom I had, for many of the years we were together, loved quite dearly. This relationship had taken each of us in many directions -- in the end, entirely different ones. I had known for some time that I was entering a new life, of sorts. A direction I would never have guessed or previously considered seeking. She too had somewhere to go, but that was not my concern, let alone business.

Like a newborn, I was cast forth into a harsh & unfamiliar world. While I still hold on to some old friendships -- friendships I cherish -- I have met & made connections to some few incredibly fantastic people -- people I will either remember or hold on to, should they allow me to do so, for as long as I can take breath. I am now, I think -- by way of comparison -- in the teen years of my Path to catch up, if you will. A new life of love I've never known, yet still learning & growing. It is all so foreign to me. I only hope these old & new friends can stand me long enough.

And now, after having returned to an old "stomping ground" & found it, like NYC, to not be the city I'd once known -- just as I am no longer who I once was -- I seek to move on. One of the long loved, & one of the new loves in my life & I have been discussing life in a place I had never -- would never in past have -- considered. I have lived in such an environment, the desert, before, & I had grown up not too very far from this new city. The first had lived there before, the latter lives there now. Even my eldest sister, who also had lived there, tells me that this is where I should be.

I feel the Goddess is on the verge, regardless of the present difficulties, of drawing me to my new life. I certainly intend to yield to Her call & take up my new life & self in this place, but ever the doubter, I continue searching within myself for meaning to all life's twists.

Non-Profit? My Ass.

What, exactly, is meant by non-profit? Is a non-profit really any different than any other corporation? Perhaps. But in my experience, these companies are just as concerned with the bottom line to the extent that the people who work for them are nothing more than after thoughts, necessary evils that there really is no distinguishing them from one another.

I also find the ads for street activism rather annoyingly like any other business job ads. They make the job appear to be a fantastic way to meet people, make lots of money, while doing good for your planet, country, etc. But, from a conversation with a few of these "activists" & having read some rants on Craig's List from others, these jobs require one not only fulfill a quota each day, endure heavy pressure from higher-ups that if they cannot produce, they will be fired, & one can have all this for an actual sub-standard wage.

Of course, you're not supposed to be in it for the money, are you? But with your non-profit employer contradicting themselves by implying that they're in it for the cause, yet repeatedly proving themselves to be, in reality, so concerned with the money, you have to wonder. Many years ago, I'd read an article showing how much money collected by the Christian Children's Fund was going to upper management salary. Out of every dollar collected, some incredibly huge percentage went toward management salary, while less than a cent went to the children they claim to be "providing for".

Now, in my own experience working for a non-profit organization, we were encouraged to push memberships, as well as sales -- I worked in retail. One of the selling points of these memberships was that it was tax deductible. So, I wonder, who's really paying for these memberships, as well as all the contributions made to that -- or any -- organization, by the rich? We know that the rich write off anything they can, as the tax laws are written in their favor. In turn, these memberships & contributions are a scam.

Don't you see? The rich -- & anyone purchasing a membership or making a contribution -- write these things off. Then, it is the tax payers who foot the bill for their special events with silly catered foods & an open bar. OK. Fine. I have no great problem with paying less in taxes which inevitably wind up paying a totally unrealistic salary to some moron who talked a good enough game to get into political office, but then these non-profits insult us by requiring we pay for entrance when we'd already done so by paying our taxes -- without all the wondrous write-offs which really only cater to the rich.

Would I be so crass as to suggest we boycott non-profits? Would I go so far as to suggest we band together & protest this abuse? Certainly not. I will suggest that people open their eyes. We're being duped everywhere we turn by marketing people & the wealthy. Naturally, we aren't going to get something for nothing, but why go looking for it if we're just being manipulated? Stop being fooled.

Yet again, I'm left with only one final thing to say:

Question everything.

Quote This!

[Note:  When previously posted elsewhere, one statement in this blahg entry had angered & offended at least one European.   Think a minute.  I hold Europeans in, perhaps, the highest esteem.  The statement in question is more in relation to questioning IQ tests than it is in the intelligence of people of a favored region.]

People have told me that I'm very intelligent all my life. There was a time I would thank people for saying this, as it seemed nice of them to say so. But, sadly, this praise (so called) tends to grate on the nerves. I got over my vast intelligence shortly after I first found myself being totally misunderstood & not knowing how to better explain myself.

Recently, I'd taken a number of IQ tests. This wasn't because I necessarily wanted to know how much smarter I am than others, but rather because of my complete confusion of  other's reactions to things I say. Needless to say, I was shocked & dismayed at what I'd found.

Now, before I reveal these wondrous results of my level of intelligence, let me first point out that I have little trust in IQ tests. I'm certain each one is biased not just in the actual level of one's intelligence, but also based on the bent of the "governing body" in question. Everyone has an agenda. So, as I've pointed out before, question everything.

In addition, while most will tell us that an IQ of 130 is the low-end of genius, the average IQ is approximately 100. I won't cite any of the sources for this, as this is a generous approximation based on a number of sources. The actual numbers appear to be even lower.

I was given an IQ test as a child, but I really don't remember what results I'd got. I've a vague memory of two numbers -- 130 & 151 -- but I seriously don't know if either of these is really in reference to my IQ. But to my delight, or degradation -- you be the judge -- of the tests I'd taken, I now possess an IQ of something between 147 & 153 (one test resulted in a number of 162, but with such a leap of 9 points from the highest of the others, I seriously question this one).

It's also interesting to note that one Web site I'd seen listed a number of European countries average scores as all being below 100. This really makes me wonder about humans as a whole. How is it possible that anyone with an IQ below 100 is even able to survive in this world, let alone, in many cases, thrive, when countless (apparently only 2% of Americans) people with IQ's of 130 or higher continually fall into the pits of financial or emotional disaster?

My point is that intelligence doesn't appear, from my perspective, to be a good thing. Perhaps it's just being intelligent in the US, but I really do think that ignorance must be bliss.

My best friend Trudy -- also possessing a genius-level IQ -- has been living in Rapid City SD for the purpose of obtaining a nursing degree. Now she has this in hand, she's is looking into moving to Reno Nv. We've been discussing how very much we & many of our mutual friends (I know that some of them -- if not many -- also possess high IQ's) are in similar, difficult situations. Trudy & I are considering the possibility of a communal living situation of the like-minded. Sure, I'm still moving to Chile, but Reno's looking better all the time. It may be an artificial sense of community, being surrounded in our house of "sharing" -- not being able to step beyond the property without being surrounded by the typical bull shit of existence -- but it sounds like a very positive experience.

Who among us couldn't use that right about now?

Hit & Run 5

Sanjaya who?

It appears that poor University of Washington is at a loss for a decent commencement speaker this year. As Bill Gates & Bill Clinton (the latter, fine -- the former?) are booked elsewhere, UW has turned to some momentary pop icon from a show few readers can stand for more than a minute, American Idol, named Sanjaya.

So, you get a flash singer to give a speech. She's a singer, & you decide she can manage to motivate students to study hard. Interesting.

USYT

Ignore that the US military is running videos on YouTube -- no doubt it's more for recruiting, than anything else. What interests me is the quote from Brent Walker, one of two mentioned in the article in the Seattle Times from Thursday, a US military Web master & former marine:

"I think these clips humanize the war for a lot of people who only see statistics."

Really? Do people think humans aren't involved in war unless they see it on TV or YouTube?

OK.

Kiddie porn

This is just too stupid: 

"Children in Middletown NJ got more than they bargained for when they tuned into "Handy Manny" on the Disney Channel this week: Hardcore pornography. Cable giant Comcast is investigating how the porn was broadcast during the popular cartoon, which is about a bilingual handyman, Manny Garcia, and his talking tools

Comcast spokesman Fred DeAndrea described it as an "isolated issue in a local New Jersey facility." 

Well, that explains everything satisfactorily. But I'm confused what Manny's "tools" have to say, & how realistic it is that he has more than one tool...?

No toilet paper for you

Get this:

"Walkersville Md is advising visitors to its four parks to bring their own toilet paper. All paper products were removed from the park restrooms after vandals set paper on fire in a men's bathroom, Town Manager Gloria Long Rollins said Monday. Hand dryers will be installed, but visitors will have to bring their own toilet paper, she said.

Rollins hopes the changes will help combat vandalism, graffiti and drug use in the parks. 

It's a well known fact that vandals, graffiti artists & drug users never go anywhere they can's wipe their asses on the city's dime. I'm sure many tax dollars were wasted on numerous studies proving this to be the case.

Suicidal tendencies

"Experts" again prove themselves worthless:

The Food and Drug Administration Wednesday approved at the strongest possible warning for antidepressants to alert doctors and patients that the drugs could increase the risk of suicidal thinking and behavior in adults 18 to 24. 

-from an article by Denise Gellene, LA Times 

Who'da thought that antidepressants could possibly depress anyone?

Leaded bibs?!

Huh? I thought we'd addressed this issue of lead years ago. But now:

LITTLE ROCK, ark -- Wal-Mart pulled sets of baby bibs Wednesday from its stores nation-wide after the bibs tested positive for high levels of lead, a store official said. 

-from an article by Jon Gambrell, AP 

Why-why-why would lead be in baby bibs...?

You're no fun any more

I'm on a nostalgia kick again. Me? Sure. I'm remembering a time -- &, perhaps a place -- when a man could compliment a woman's dress or look in a very simple manner, & it would either be accepted or politely rejected for what it is -- a simple compliment. But, apparently, today, a simple compliment -- void of any seething intent -- is perceived as a sexually potent & lurid remark. Yes. I have now graduated from the woman repellent, to the creepy old man.

A statement to any woman under, perhaps, thirty to the effect of, "Hey, I like your dress" or "That's a nice skirt", has become intimidating. Somehow, women now expect such statements to be followed by a regimen of stalking resulting in some rape scene. For the record, I have never wondered how a woman would look from the bushes outside her home.

Of course, if any woman whom I'd complimented found me even remotely attractive -- guess what? I wouldn't be a threat, I'd be considered possible bed fodder or even -- if I had money & was generous -- a possible boy friend. One cannot even so much as scan a room & meet the eyes of a woman scanning the same room without being judged abusive.

I'm sure that any woman who has judged me such would deny these statements. I'm sure their ill perceived judgment of me would become more surreal simply because I accuse them of thinking entirely too highly of themselves & being conditioned either by breakfast cereal commercials or made-for-tv movies. But I hardly think my reaction to their reactionary minds bad powers of observation -- I've a rather strong ability to see beyond the surface.

I also know that I'm generalizing. There are certainly women in their twenties & later who know better. Sadly, I know a very small number of them -- & I expect that number to continue to diminish.

Apart from the fact I have never so much as expected, let alone forced anything of a woman -- "no" had meant "no" long before television told us so, & I had even made it a conscious  point of respect before I'd ever had the opportunity to get to know a girl (when I was but a boy) slightly -- not even intimately -- to do only as they made clear I could. Sex, as wonderful as it can be, may be on my mind, but isn't something I've ever expected. Frankly, frequently in my life, I find sex so silly it's practically pointless.

So, have your sugar-coated lives; find your princes (or goth-punk-wanna-be-artist) & live your passionless, humourless, surface lives. Obscurity calls to me, the freedom to be & think & dream -- with or without the physicality sex -- grows ever more appealing to me than the phony life we must live now.

Misanthropy is the result of even a dolt who stops to think about it.

A day in the right

A few years ago I was walking toward my Brooklyn apartment on Ashland Place from Flatbush Avenue one night. As I neared the intersection of Ashland & Fulton, near my apartment, I noticed that there were far more people not only in the neighbourhood than usual, but far more than would be on Ashland at that time of night. An elderly couple passed me & of their conversation I'd registered something to the effect of "...rats of great size" was mentioned. Then a man passed & told me to watch out for the rats. Though rats weren't uncommon, it was odd that someone would tell me to watch out for them, but I wasn't really paying much attention.

Then I saw them. But instead of "rats of great size", what I saw were two large rabbits -- the size of sheep. One gave me the impression I should climb on it's back. Doing so, I rode past the shocked crowds toward my apartment.

Next morning, I'm bilking some tourists out of some cash in one of the best parts of Brooklyn when a man, an enemy, as I recall, crouched & leveled an automatic weapon at me. He fires. Instinctively, I attempt to elude the bullets -- to no avail. I see them, four, for only an instant before they hit, spiraling toward me.

The impact was not terribly hard, but certainly noticeable, as the bullets entered my right side: first, just above my hip; the second, third & fourth, in a relatively straight line downward, just left of my femur. I lose consciousness.

Later, after regaining consciousness, I look down to where the dull pain comes from to find little blood. One of my tourists of three or four offhandedly suggests we go to a hospital. I don't argue.

This, naturally, takes time. But the shooter, also, is still after us. When we finally arrive at hospital, I am ushered to a room. I now notice the bleeding has stopped.

The upper most bullet, the doctor tells me, has hit no important organs -- good -- & those below had fallen into muscle -- not even nicking the femur. I'm overjoyed, as I have to get to another job, & the commute is murder.

This job was at Ken Grap's Chevron station in San Jose California with a man I'd worked at Joe Cetwinski's Chevron in Napa California. Ken was not there this evening, & I knew he was soon to go out of business.

After taking money from a self-serve customer, I walked to what is the north end of the s-s island of Ken's now demolished station on Moorpark Avenue to get the customer's change. I looked up in the sky as, it had become quite dark, & told the other employee working with me that he should turn on the lights. At this point, I saw a ball of stars circled by a ring of other stars; they looked like Saturn. It began first to revolve, then to move about as would a UFO. I asked my partner if he was seeing this, & he said he was. Each of us were fascinated by this sight.

I looked back into the sky to see this "planet" of stars continue to move toward, away & back & forth through space. Then it stopped, the ring disappeared & the "planet" began to spew stars from one point on it's surface near its equator. Suddenly, the whole sky changed from a few stars & planets to all sorts of stars & planets, with one addition: There were now numerous video game aliens & space ships filling my entire vision.

Later, I was working yet another job. This one in a very strange hamburger place which appeared to be Everything Yogurt on Third Avenue near East 57th Street in NYC. The manager had me work about ten minutes at each station & there were a lot of strange things going on there that I cannot describe.

One part I can remember clearly, came later. I looked up from where I was behind the stove to see the manager grimacing over what he called a worm crawling on the wall. Everyone in the room was franticly waving their arms & yelling things to the effect of killing it, but I walked over saying that it is a living thing, & that I would take care of it.

It turned out to be a green caterpillar. The manager said something vaguely encouraging, & I removed the caterpillar from the wall. After another strange sequence in the rear hallway, I finally got it outside where it had a much better chance of survival.

As I came back inside, I decided to wash my hands -- a very uncommon act in a restaurant at that time in NYC. I stepped into the room marked "Co-operation Restroom". I had been in one of these twice before.

As I stepped through the door, I was immediately engulfed by very thickly placed, alternating black & clear, strips of plastic hanging from the ceiling. These strips moved me round, & I could hear the hiss of an air conditioner & feel cool air moving round me through the strips.

I swayed back & forth for some time without finding the door to the restroom. Soon I heard what sounded like voices either very far away or nearby & whispering. I mumbled, "May I have some co-operation, please?" At this point, I looked down at the floor knowing the I should look up to see where all of the strips go. But, looking down, I finally saw a pair of feet & calves, & as I looked up, the strips had completely disappeared, & before me was a very pregnant woman in a rust coloured pant suit uniform.

She asked, "Yes?," putting her arm round & behind my head, pushed me backward slightly so as to sit me on the arm of a sofa, & she sat on my lap.

I asked her where the restroom is, & she pointed it out asking why I hadn't found it on my own. She then asked if I had seen the woman on the phone & pointed to my left. I replied that I hadn't seen anything but the strips. To which she said, "Oh, if you had stood at the door & looked before coming in, you'd have seen her."

I soon returned to my hovel in Brooklyn.

Oh, no! Not again.

It's been some years since I've written poetry. Poetry, like my fiction, only comes when I find the inspiration. But the inspiration to write poetry only comes when I meet a woman with an exceptional quality of attraction, or, simply, with exceptional qualities. Yet, as I suspect for most all poets, any inevitable -- or possible liaison I've ever known with such women always leads to disaster.

 

It is not that these women are bad, or that they are all users, abusers of the hearts of sensitive men. No, some of them were wonderful. And I'd not even had sex with all of them. So, we can't say that these women were at fault, if there is fault, for the misery, albeit exquisite, I've experienced.

But I'm in an odd state these days. Now in my forties, I feel as if I've begin life over since getting out of my last long-term relationship. I feel, in very short order, I'm passing through a new life, or through life all over again. Through circumstance, I'd gone through a period of living with mom, I'd lost my "virginity" to a sweet, though spoiled, twenty-something girl, & I've been going through the mill of difficulty finding work & mediocre jobs. But, to be fair, I have recently found a really good one.

More importantly -- this time round -- I'm experiencing emotions either I've never known, or, of those I had known in the past, to a much greater degree. They're beginning to come to the surface far more frequently than I've ever known. So, I'm meeting new people. Unlike my past life, these people are really fantastic. I'd felt I was in an intellectual wasteland all those years, only rarely meeting any people of quality with intelligence &/or talent.

Recently, through my best friend, I've met a couple of really fantastically intelligent & artistic women. They would once have been veritable oases in the wasteland I point out above, but are now, coming to my notice more. I could certainly find some level of happiness should either of these two women seriously condescend to involve themselves with me on more levels -- one of whom has repeatedly asked me to marry her. Yeah! Me. I find it difficult to think her serious, of course -- what she would want with the likes of this stumbling twit, I can't possibly fathom. But the point is that -- despite my worthless view of myself -- there's apparently something about me that's attractive to others.

Why, even yesterday I'd met & flirted with another really sweet, & beautiful twenty-something from NYC. Her body language & words implied that she wasn't repelled by this old fart flirting with her -- she'd even lent a hand when I'd continually fumble over words to keep her from running away pulling her hair in despair. I doubt I'll ever see her again, but it could be nice.

This brings me back to my composing poetry. Few women in my life have ever had the power to act as muse. I've tried with many women. Unless I really feel that inspiration, the words are painfully strained & the verses mediocre at best. But I am now in contact with a new muse. She is beautiful -- naturally; she is capable -- as one would hope; she is sweet & kind; she is Beauty in all Her forms...you see, I'm thinking of her now in terms of poetry.

It doesn't help that she is of a heritage, possibly first generation American, of which I have been desirous of pursuing that life-long embrace for long & painful years as well. It doesn't help that she speaks Spanish & thinks my plan to move to Chile is "...So cool". Why does this not help? Because, as I've known all too many times, I firmly believe this, will lead only to a fit of despair greater than I've ever known of unrequited love.

Yes, she too is a twenty-something. I don't necessarily believe that twenty-somethings are my downfall any more than I feel she or any other woman could love me longer than it takes to become aware of my darkest demons & acute paranoia. Don't all initial attractive qualities in another become the bane of one's existence at some point?

I know no solution. One -- artists in particular -- cannot turn emotions on & off at will. Perhaps she will bring me to a new phase of material. This is the most likely result of my having been brought into contact with her, as I can't believe even the possibility she could feel any attraction to me. I will have to content myself with how beautiful she is & how much I want her when she reacts with such embarrassment over my flirtations & compliments.

Why am I forever doomed to the lack of attainment of such? Why am I forever thrust forth into desire which I cannot have? And why must there be so many years between this perfect expression of the Goddess & myself?

One would think that no matter how pagan this Zen Buddhist is, I could learn not to be so very effected by things I know intellectually can simply never be.

Now, where did I leave my Asana? Anyone seen it? I remember leaving it right "here" not long ago....

Yankee go home

Today was the anniversary of the removal of Saddam Hussein from Iraq. In a news story -- I'm actually very surprized to see -- the news media had aired negative views of Iraqis concerning the US occupation. But how did it end? Not with anything remotely resembling the real reason we're there. Nothing about the real numbers of civilian deaths due to this war. Nothing about the real suffering of the citizens due to our still being there.

They ended the story with a quote from baby Bush. Well, it makes sense that they, as reporters, would want a statement from Bush, isn't it? Forget that they rarely bother to research stories which might contradict the agenda of their owner. They really did act as reporters in asking Bush about this. Oh, what did Bush say in response? This:

"If Saddam Hussein were still in power, a protest like this would not have been possible".

Uh-huh. Now, I'm no history buff, but wasn't it your daddy who put him in power to begin with...?

Light up, or leave me alone

Have you seen the anti-smoking spot on television with the plucked, headless turkey? These are so hilarious that I can't imagine any smoker feeling any desire to quit because of them. This headless turkey (I suppose nick-named Cold Turkey), is, perhaps, a greater advertising icon than Joe Camel had been in the past, or even of the Marlboro Man during his run.

But the anti-smoking coalition's accident aside, I'd like to point out something which isn't getting much coverage about this. That's the parallels between today's anti-smoking campaign & that of the Nazi Party's propaganda of the 1930's.

That's right. Hitler had run an anti-smoking campaign as well. Apparently, just as now, people then were all too willing to accept the supposed authority of someone holding credentials. But, as I'd heard yesterday from a friend of a friend, only half of a graduating class of doctors got high marks...or words to that effect. The other half barely got their paper. More, the Nazi's "experts" were clearly more in sympathy with the movement than they were with their actual findings. I suspect the same goes for our "experts" today.

It comes down to the fact that just as in the past, we are relying on questionable authority. But do we actually question these authorities? Of course not. We're not "experts" in the field, so what do we know? And that's the point: What do we know? If we can only claim knowledge of a second or third-hand nature -- knowledge we don't bother to verify -- how can we claim any knowledge at all?

Yet most people just accept what they're told without the slightest thought. Remember what happened with cholesterol & eggs not too many years ago? These supposed authorities claimed that in their findings, eggs were, essentially, evil & killing us all. Some years later, these experts decided that, wait! There is good cholesterol & bad cholesterol. The egg industry, I'm sure, is still trying to recover from the destructive effects of these so-called experts.

I'm a smoker. I also eat fatty meats, drink whole milk, & I occasionally drink alcohol. Oh, my! I must be evil. But because I was endowed with a brain -- & I know how to use it -- I've found authorities very questionable from my earliest memories. Time & again, I've been told things which were not backed up -- & when questioned, I was told only that I should be quiet & listen. Well, I have listened. For years. These days, I can no longer just be quiet.

When I was a teen, my eldest sister was studying to become a nurse. Whenever she'd visit, I'd always look through her nursing manuals. They were filled with pictures of the results of all sorts of ailments. Of course, I'm sure each of the victims in these manuals were likely in very advanced stages of whatever illness, & not one suggested any other contributing factor to these results. It was all presented as black & white. 

Round the same time, my mother was using the prevailing anti-smoking propaganda of scare tactics in her attempt to quit. She would bring home all sorts of brochures & booklets with pictures of lungs, throats, mouths, hearts, arteries, etc in advanced stages of cancer. All the time I was looking through this horror material, I kept wondering if maybe there had been more involved than smoking -- or if these pictures really were body parts with cancer -- from smoking. Of course, no authority would ever manipulate the facts to suit their agenda. That would never happen.

This begs many questions: What about the crap in our food & drink? What about the crap in the air? What about the radio activity & countless synthesized chemicals in the environment? Are we attacking something which may not be the actual evil because it's relatively easy? Sure, while the Nazi's didn't have the same environmental issues to worry about, they did have a greater agenda which is what I'd said in a previous entry about distractions. But let's not get on that today.

I'm simply saying that our authorities have other issues -- sometimes more psychological than otherwise -- which are far more important. Oh, but if we find someone to discriminate against, we not only provide the necessary distraction, but we are given, like children, something to do so our authorities can do as they please.

I'd like to wake up now.

Have I missed something?

"The Collaborative International Dictionary
of English v.0.48"
Volunteer Vol`un*teer", v. t. imp. & p. p.
Volunteered; p.
   pr. & vb. n. Volunteering.
   To offer or bestow voluntarily, or without
   solicitation or compulsion; as, to volunteer
   one's services.
   1913 Webster

The term volunteer implies that there is no money involved -- from either the volunteer or the entity to which one volunteers...right? So, how is it I keep seeing references to volunteering in which the volunteer has to pay a sum of money to volunteer their services? Did someone forget to look up the definition?

Some years ago, I'd also wondered about ads I'd see in the classifieds of news papers in which internships were becoming paid positions. There was a time when an internship meant one had the right to be in intimate contact with a company's policies & procedures with the compensation being the knowledge one could learn, like a mentor-ship program. But now, most intern positions are paid.

So, in one area, the tables have turned. Naturally, the rich are those who reap the greatest reward -- particularly in bringing on volunteers who are willing to put up their own money to work for a company. And I'm sure those selfish bastards who'd come up with this idea feel fully justified in this. Why, it's a sound business practice, isn't it? Suck the very blood from an employee -- or client -- & give them as little as possible. Only, in this case, the company is simply reaping the benefits of some sucker working for them & handing out absolutely no compensation.

This reminds me of working in customer service in which the company gets occasional calls from foreign language speakers. The potential income a company can make from a sale to a foreign customer is, of course, directly related to how much they're willing to pay a bi- or multi-lingual employee for the benefit. But does the compensation ever come close to any idea of benefit the company receives? Of course not.

I have some talent with languages. I'm fluent only in English, but have been able to communicate in a fairly large number of other languages. In more naive times, I used to speak in the native language of customers because it was easier to do this than to repeatedly ask them to clarify what they wanted in English. But was I offered even the differential pay of twenty-five cents per hour often extended to employees able to speak another language? No.

In each company where I'd done this, I would -- at some point -- ask about receiving such pay to be flatly denied. But I wasn't given any option. I was told that I had to continue to speak to foreign customers in their own language, if I was able to communicate in whichever language, without compensation.

I caught on pretty quickly & stopped talking to customers in any language but English.

Is it any wonder I have no respect for the rich when they blatantly treat me with such disdain? Is it any wonder I'm so unwilling to offer any extras when I receive none in return?

I say, let them kiss my ass. I'm done kissing theirs.

There can be only one

We've heard this before. But no one wants to pay attention. In the US the top economic one percent hold more wealth than all the the other ninety-nine percent combined. How is this possible? How could such a thing happen? That one percent, enjoying that which we've all been hoodwinked into believing about life in America -- a comfortable life -- are directly responsible for, likely, every ill which has befallen the rest of us living here.

Naturally, the news media only tell us what the power elite want us to know, but think about it. Why would so many news agencies go to such lengths to tell us that, say, unemployment in this country is low, when the truth goes farther than that. One example of this is that many who had been laid off have not had the opportunity to return to the field for which they'd trained & are working in another field -- making much less money -- because their unemployment benefits had run out.

Another example is a story which never runs in relation to the employment situation. Sure, there are stories on the news which concern homelessness, but do they ever tell us just how many people are homeless? Do they ever tell us that there are more homeless people due to their inability to get jobs which pay enough for them to pay their debt as well as keep a roof over their heads, let alone eat on a regular basis?

No. And it's unlikely, so long as those who have brought us, like a drug fiend in need of a fix, to need such things as the painfully slow, pointless, funny only to a few, gew-gaws of the Web -- I miss GopherSpace & ftp sites. How about the saturation marketing we're assaulted with everywhere? I listen to what is referred to as a non-commercial radio station KEXP which runs -- though, admittedly, infrequently -- commercials. Yeah, commercials. They call them something else, but they're still ads for rather expensive toys & properties by rich people who are only seeking to get richer. Not once have they run a free ad from a small business owner.

Again, I ask, why do we need all these toys? Why do we need the newest, most wonderful piece of crap which is no better than the previous one -- only looks more slick? Who the hell are we trying to impress? Those getting richer don't give a damn about us -- they just want our money. So they repackage their crap & call it new or innovative. They brainwash us from an early age to believe their claims. They have turned us all into consumer clones who can't live without the shiny non-necessities of today.

But I was talking about the top one percent, wasn't I? Those who have the beautiful life which we must not only believe we actually want, but that we can, through hard work, really attain. They have taken the American Dream -- which, like our constitution, was very different when this country began -- & twisted it into an absolute myth. They use gambling, call it a lottery, & make us all believe we can win & suddenly have the good life they enjoy by our hard work & hard-earned money every single day of their lives.

The only way out -- should any have the power to see through the lies -- is to physically get out. True, the country I'm intending to move to, Chile, has a huge gap between rich & poor. Sure, as here, people there are brainwashed into believing that this new toy or that new home will bring them a sense of contentedness & self-worth. But that's just the country which appears to suit me. There are numerous countries, called "third world", which aren't dirt poor or under the thumbs of dictators. Countries with far richer cultures than here. Places where we might really find that contented bliss.

We could stay & fight, just as many wish to do with the government. But I'm growing older. I've seen numerous administrations. As each leaves, another set of equally corrupt -- & rich -- politicians come to take their place. There's no end to it. And changing one's circumstances won't automatically mean that one will find a government which isn't corrupt. But we can stop the madness in respect to finding a government, the wealthy, & the blindest of marketing people we can, gratefully, ignore.

Just be sure to turn out the lights before you go -- we don't want the new tenants to have to pay the wealthy power companies for the electricity we'd wasted.

Hit & Run 4

[I apologize for the formatting of this -- can't find where the erroneous html is.]

More on embarrassing side effects

I've mentioned this before, but another commercial really makes me wonder. Is it really better to take any number of different drugs for some minor ailment which cause more side effects than the actual problem? And why do these drugs effects, more often than not, have to cause not just problems, but embarrassing problems?

Dittos Daze

I'd recently felt nostalgic. OK. I'm nostalgic about a lot of things lately. But I was thinking about the wonderful way Dittos Jeans fit women. Well, I mostly saw them on high school girls, as I was a high school boy at the time they were popular. In any case, I just found this short interview: 

(Published without the slightest attempt to gain permission).

3/30/04 Interview Dittos Jeans. (thislondon) Remember Ditto's Jeans for girls? Here is an interview I did recently with Richard Leff, one of the makers of these hot pants. 

 

Xeno: Hello Richard, It is fun to have found you and thanks for answering some questions. How did you become involved in the design of the Dittos line of pants and how did you start the craze that made them must-haves for girls in the 1970's?

 

Richard: I was one of the founders of Dittos. Prior to Dittos there really were no jeans for women/girls. The ladies had started to buy men/boys jeans. We were lucky enough to see the need and hence Dittos became the leading female jean.

 

Xeno: With all the nostalgia such as "that 70's show" do you know why the haven't been re-released?

Richard: Legal Reasons... But we may be back if these issues can be resolved.

Xeno: Do you have a secret cache of Dittos pants?

Richard: Sorry, No cache.

Xeno: Do you still have the patterns that someone could buy or do you know where they are now? (Funny, a month or two ago I was asking NASA if they still had the plans to the Saturn V rocket. Answer: yes, they do, despite a major news story that says they are lost.)

Richard: Yes we do.

Xeno: Do you have any photos or sketches of the different styles, you working in the early days, models, etc. that I could use for the article? 

 

Richard: Nothing I would be willing to let out of my sight.

Xeno: Anything else that might be interesting to people who wore or admired Dittos pants? 

 

Richard: The interesting thing is that over twenty years later Dittos still has a significant following!

Xeno: Thanks very much for your time.

A few weeks after I posted this article, 

I had the following email:

"...I am the current owner to the DITTOS trademark, and yes, we are planning a relaunch. We are shooting for Holiday 2004 season, but it may be Spring 2005 before we actually have them back in the department stores. We are very excited about bringing the sexy curves of DITTOS back to today's youth! I sincerely appreciate your interest in the nostalgia of our brand. I would be happy to answer any further questions for you, or to send you some DITTOS when the first line is launched.

Great website!!

Thank you,
[Name removed intentionally]
President
Dittos Inc.

Any chance that roullout might happen...?

Did I miss it? Maybe do it again before I leave 

the country?

 

Newsworthy? Let me decide.

There is rioting in the streets of Santiago Chile, but do the news media tell us anything about it? I watch both the local & world news every evening, but there's been nothing about anything happening anywhere but in Iraq. Oh, except for all the touching stories happening here. Nothing important is happening anywhere but with our own government & the war.

I don't subscribe to any news papers just now, so I search the Web. The Seattle Times has only one article concerning Santiago dated October 2006. Gee, you'd think something must have happened there more recently than that. But I look on GoogleNews & find that the Associated Press isn't, as our local media would have us believe, oblivious to unrest in other parts of the world.

Here:

March 30, 2007 - 10:46AM

Police have used tear gas and water cannons to disperse hundreds of rock-throwing high school students who repeatedly blocked traffic on Santiago's main avenue.

 

Scattered clashes continued at dusk on Thursday night and the government said 264 demonstrators had been detained.

 

Most shops were closing by mid-afternoon and many offices let their employees leave earlier as bus drivers closed their routes fearing attacks.

 

The students' motives for protesting were not clear. One protester, who identified himself as Simon his face covered by a white handkerchief, said only that they were demonstrating "for the situation and for our rights".

 

The protest, however, was far smaller than the well-organised marches of May 2006, when up to 700,000 high school students took to the streets to demand improved schools, lower public transportation fares and educational reforms in Chile.

 

The latest protest came on a date often marked by violence by far-left groups commemorating what they call "The Day of the Young Combatant", honouring two young brothers killed by police in a 1985 protest against the 1973-90 dictatorship of Gen. Augusto Pinochet.

 

The judge investigating the killing of Eduardo and Rafael Vergara filed homicide charges against one active and three retired police officers on Thursday.

 

A lawyer for the retired officers, Mauricio Unda, said that they acted in self defence during the protest.

AP ©

Why do I have to turn to the Web to learn this -- despite AP hadn't actually learned why these students are rioting? The Canadian Press gives us a little more in an article which appears to be a more fleshed out version of the AP release above. They make a connection to the significance of the date:

The latest protest came on a date often marked by violence by far-left groups commemorating what they call "The Day of the Young Combatant," honouring two young brothers killed by police in a 1985 protest against the 1973-90 dictatorship of Gen. Augusto Pinochet. 

The night protests were typical of the date.

I'm not so sure that these, which occurred 

a little over twenty & thirty years ago are 

more than a symbolic connection. 

Is it just me? I've studied journalism -- 

I even hold a certificate from an unknown 

(& likely gone) school of journalism -- & I 

know that investigation requires a bit more 

than this. Why the AP -- long a highly 

respected news source -- & all news media 

can't be bothered to tell us more than the 

struggle a home owner has in our region 

has experienced in attempting to retrieve 

a cat from a tree, or these glossings of real, 

news worthy events just boggles my mind.

Where are the journalists of the past? Where 

is the investigative integrity? Where is the news?

Please hold for an important message

How many times have you heard this? If you're like me, you have a land-line & prefer to screen calls. This, of course, requires one of the most incredible pieces of technology ever created: The answering machine. No having to dial a number to get any messages, no need for caller-ID, no having to actually miss calls, as you (an adult) have the option of picking up the receiver & talking to the caller after determining who they are. That is, if the caller actually attempts to leave a message.

I'd Googled this phrase to find that this message, or system, can cost a marketer from $59.00 to, at least, $350.00. Naturally, this can only work for a marketer if the person receiving the call is sheep-ish enough to actually sit there waiting for some bastard tele-marketer to condescend to them.

What marketing genius came up with this?

There was a time -- really -- maybe rather ancient, but there was a time when tele-marketing didn't exist. I don't remember when I started getting such calls, but after the first few, I grew tired of politely thanking them & asking them not to call any longer. When that day arrived, perhaps after the third or fourth call, I grew more & more delighted to simply fuck with them. This wasn't an entirely original idea. Many others were growing increasing tired of these calls as well, & found as much entertainment as I in wasting their time. But times have certainly changed.

Lemme tell ya, if these people have any hope of prying cash out of my tightly clenched fists, they'll have to be on the line. Naturally, I don't like the idea of businesses actually seeking customers by any means other than offering honest services & worth while products I go looking for.

So, for any marketing wise asses reading this, you're wasting your time on me -- & from the looks of the number of pages on Google with complaint after complaint, it's not working on others either. Get a clue.

The Alhzheimer's Report

I remember many years ago reading a rather long article, I think, in the San Jose Mercury News or possibly in the San Francisco Chronicle about how few of the meat packing plants in this country actually get inspected by the Food and Drug Administration. What with budget cuts from the Federal Government & the unsubstantiated reports of pay-offs by the plants to the inspectors, very little of the meat we eat was actually being inspected.

This, at least the budget cuts, as well as less than stringent methods of testing, continues today. It's even happening in the vegetable industry. E-Coli outbreaks are now becoming rather common. But a new report out by the Alzheimer's Association states that every 72 seconds another person is diagnosed with Alzheimer's in America. (Wanna read the whole of the report?) Could our food be a major factor in this?

I'm only here to point out possibilities, or, maybe, to state the obvious, as it were. I wonder why our government & beef industry go to such lengths to tell us that there is no mad cow in the US. The only reports of possible mad cow in the US claims that the infected beef came from where? Canada. Yet other countries, Japan for one, claims that beef from the US has been tainted. Is it possible that we're being lied to?

So, is there a connection between mad cow & Alzheimer's? Some would say so. They even have a great deal of data to back up their assertions. I think we're doomed. And one can't even swear off meat to escape a painful death at the hands of rich Americans either.

I really need to find a way out before I go completely wacky -- or die trying.

Oh, Condie! or Blood & Oil

I forget now what news report I was watching -- they all look alike these days -- but in one of the stories they'd made mention of something I'd completely forgotten about. Not only are Bush & Cheney "oil men", Condoleeza Rice, it seems, is too. It came as quite a re-revelation. I remember that Condoleeza had worked for some years for Chevron Corporation, & that she'd even had an oil tanker named after her. Can you believe it? An oil tanker.

Naturally, after Condoleeza started working for the Bush admin, the name of the tanker was changed. It just wouldn't be appropriate to have an oil tanker named after you, considering the agenda in question.

But this really made me think. The war & anti-Bush protesters have been saying carries considerably more weight. The whole war, &, perhaps, our whole post-9/11...& maybe even 9/11 itself...may very well be all about oil. Anyone remember the film "Three Days of the Condor"? That's what the whole conspiracy in that movie came down to. Oil.

But there's more. If the Bush agenda really is all about oil, what else have we been led to forget in the pasts of these three individuals? We know that the American, &, it seems, the world press, generally, are not allowed to present some facts or print or air certain stories. Whether this is caused by pressure by the government or because the rich bastards who control the news media are conservative & pro-Bush, or simply because they're rich & politicians are rich, it's nothing but a big "boys club", I certainly can't say.

Whatever is the cause of our convenient forgetfulness, the fact continues to stare us all in the face. Only the rich are reaping the rewards of conquest. Only the rich are capable of making their own destinies. And we all have a part in making their destinies, as opposed to our own. Clearly, the mass-conspiracy I'd always feared existed -- didn't want to believe was possible, is in full force.

Forget Canada. I'm really off for Chile.

Give me Chile, or give me...Chile?

In addition to my "Jewish girl" thing, there's something else I've been desirous of for a very long time. I've wanted to leave the US & make a life elsewhere. This feeling has been with me since, at least, my teens, when I'd dreamt of moving to Europe.

Europe has held such promise for me for so many years that I'd never really felt any other region would really suit me. That's now changed.

A few years ago, I'd seen a documentary concerning life & the inhabitants of a town in southern Chile. I was not simply impressed by how very cosmopolitan they seemed, but that they seemed very European. So, in the back of my mind since, I've felt that Chile might be an option. But it had never seemed more than that.

Recently I'd started feeling an odd pull toward Chile. When I get such feelings, I will usually do some research on whatever is drawing my attention, but normally it simply comes to a greater knowledge of the subject. This time is different.

While there are some inconveniences; re-learning Spanish, for one, dealing with a different economy & political system, for others, I not only think that I could get past the difficulties -- fewer, I think, than those which would have presented themselves to me in Poland -- but might even take me back a little in time.

Chile isn't exactly living in the past -- made clear by all the modern conveniences so apparent there, but the people are certainly more like I remember people had once been here. I may be allergic to mercury, & many dishes in Chile are composed of sea food, but there are an abundance of other foods there as well. I may not remember much Spanish, but as Castilian is the form used there, I shouldn't have much trouble with that either.

And, as I was going to move to Poland to teach English, I really think that this would be my means of not only getting there, but also getting work & feeding myself.

Of course, I'm not in a position, financially, to make this happen any time soon. I have to pay my creditors as well as another loan I'd received from family. Then, there's paying for the classes to become certified to teach English as a foreign or second language. I could skip that, & likely find work without certification, but that would mean lower pay & fewer options.

If the Gods still love me, all these issues may work themselves out & allow me to make this move. I really think that, because Chile is such a beautiful place with good people, etc, I may finally find home. I think Chile has a very good chance of being that.

Is this it?

I've got it! I've figured something out about myself. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm making connections.

Interesting how things happen. I'm catching a glimpse of what really bothers me. There had been what was called a "manager meeting" at work yesterday. I'd felt completely out of place, to begin with. But as the meeting progressed, I kept wondering about why I felt that way. Apart from the whole corporate thing, that is.

The meeting was, essentially, about generating more money. It's all in the guise of serving (or servicing) the customer, but when you really think about it, it's just about making more money for those who already have lots of money.

I'd fallen asleep for a couple of hours after getting home, & upon awakening I'd started, in the back of my mind, thinking about what annoys me about this job. An image...of sorts...hit me. I'm not just a man out of time, I'm not simply expecting manners from others, I'm not a bad sort. I'm seeing this real problem rather as a condemned man being asked to come up with ideas on how to make his execution more entertaining to his executioners. The kids with whom I work are totally blind to all of this, & I've been harping on the symptoms of a much greater disease for some years. I see it all now.

I have to think it all out more, but I think I've struck on the source of of my problem. But, unlike the middle-aged man's "second childhood", I'm looking to scale back. I have an incredible need to remove this crap from my life.

There will be dancing in Jerusalem this year

I don't know why. I don't have the slightest clue. Lately I've been very desirous of a Jewish girl. Not a specific Jewish girl, as I don't know any -- to my knowledge -- personally. I just feel a strange gnawing inside which says: "Only a Jewish girl will do".

I'd known a few -- very few -- growing up. I quite liked them. But, as with most girls, they had little interest in me. When I'd lived in NYC, I'd met quite a few more, & I'd even pursued some of them. Again, they had little interest in me.

Then, there was Orli. I'd met her in college. Orli was, is, from Haifa, Israel. This was many years ago, & while she may have been interested in me, I'd waited so long to ask her out that I was too late. She was returning to Haifa the day after I'd asked her.

I don't know that Orli represents any sense of an ideal. The other Jewish girls I've known were equally attractive. But I think that she is foreign is very important. Of all my ex-girlfriends, it is those who were from other countries who hold the favoured spaces in my heart & memories. Whether the relationships we'd had were good or bad, they are those I hold most dear.

Perhaps this Jewish attraction is nothing more than some current fetish. Maybe, now that I'm in my forties, I'm unconsciously hoping to find a real, loving, "till death" relationship, & a Jewish girl represents some semblance of a chance that this could happen.

Whatever it is, the girls & women I meet -- attractive as they are -- aren't foreign Jewish girls or women. As wonderful as they appear, or seem, or are, I'm not so sure I'll be able to get past this. Of course, this desire may not last -- I'm a man, & men are pretty fickle. But I can dream.

Eat the rich

I'd recently related a dream business idea I've had for some time to a friend. I've mentioned this idea, as well as some others, to a few other people I've known. But only in recent years have I been confronted by a very specific type of opposition.

It's not that the idea is bad. It, as had the others, seems rather sound. But the the fact that this business simply doesn't serve the rich draws incredible opposition. All who've opposed me backed up their allusions to my "naivete" with examples, they believe, are the only things which would make a business successful. Each example were things would only make the rich happier.

Why is it that -- particularly in the past few years -- we have all become servants to the rich? Look at the shops round us. Most every one caters only to those who have lots of money. The few businesses which serve the poor are still there -- some are not just successful, but are very successful. The poor aren't going away either. So, how have we come to believe that only serving the rich will make us successful?

How could such a thing happen? Is it possible that the rich, &, naturally, the government who are composed, primarily, of the rich, might, somehow, have brainwashed us all into thinking that we are free? So free, in fact, that we have become so distracted by other things, that we don't see that we're all just serving the rich?

So, a business aimed at serving anyone other than the rich -- aimed, specifically, at ignoring the rich -- could only be doomed to fail...? I don't think so. I firmly believe that while there will always be rich, there will be those who are not aware of the fact that they are nothing more than servants, or slaves. In turn, someone has to give them some form of refuge -- whether one is aware of such a place being a refuge, or not.

OK. So, maybe it's a stretch -- a long one -- to think that the rich could consciously manipulate us into unwittingly becoming their servants -- maybe, but it's pretty clear that this is what has happened. We're all trapped. We're all enslaved to not just money, but to those who have much of it.

Would that we could see an end to globalization, an end to our enslavement, an end to poverty, & war, & the desire for more toys. Would that we could see an end to greed &, power, & the inevitable abuse of power.

Would that we could see an end to all these stupid ills surrounding us every day.

Deny, deny, deny

Perhaps I'm growing old. Perhaps I'm a man out of time. Perhaps I simply remember a time when humans weren't so anal.

Take for instance my current work situation. I have experience in a number of fields, I'm not necessarily a slow learner, & likely possess a greater ability to see beyond the surface than is good for me. I've made mention, below, of some of my observances, but let's look at this: Over the years, people with whom I've worked have grown continually more critical of possible short-comings in others, yet are unwilling to accept their own.

My current short-comings lie primarily in a distinct lack of training in relation to the specifics of my current position. Of course, the hostility & resentment of many of my co-workers due to my not having had to spend however long each of then had slaving away to attain the exalted state of Shift Leader should be considered as well. But this should work itself out -- assuming I remain in this position much longer.

The trouble is that everyone wants perfection from others in addition to others not noting the lack of perfection in themselves. There's certainly the possibility that those who make the most of other's imperfections are in absolute denial of their own. More likely, their failings eat them up inside -- keeping the from sleep, causing them to overeat, & to perform badly in personal relationships -- or even in bed.

Am I to take seriously the paranoid-power-tripping rantings of one who makes my co-workers cry? Am I to feel diminished by the criticisms of a fool? Do I strike any of you, my readers, as that stupid? Perhaps. But you keep reading anyway.

Yes, I've been rather vague. Wouldn't you be? I'd rather like to hold onto this idiotic job at least till I get another.

The sad part is that while I've finally found a boss (not the person to whom I refer above) with a little creativity & possessing balance, I'm still confronted by this growing problem. I think, perhaps, this problem is the domain, primarily, of the young -- & American youth at that.

Abuse In the Workplace

I'm sure you've all experienced it. I'm sure I'm not alone. We all know what being the "new guy" at a job is like. I've had quite a number of jobs in my "career": Retail, retail management, retail ownership, computer technical, corporate purchasing, deli & restaurant work, & a few other jobs here & there. I've had to deal with the "new guy" syndrome many times, but never have I had to deal with the hostility & rudeness of the kids with whom I'm working now.

Let's set aside the clear fact that getting work the past few years -- growing stronger for maybe ten -- has become more about appearances, those of one's personal look as well as a piece of paper which often hasn't anything to do with the work one does. It's also become more difficult due to another clear fact; one has to know someone to get an interview for many decent paying gigs, but few people are willing to do more than suggest one should apply for whatever position. No one, in my experience, is willing to put themselves forward to a hiring manager by so much as to offer to give their manager a copy of your resume, let alone "talk you up" to the boss.

I know there was a time when knowing someone meant something. I know that there was a time when starting a new job with new procedures & personalities to learn wasn't made more complicated by the abuse of outspoken, short-sighted, judgemental, self-righteous coworkers. There was a time when one could walk into a new job & meet new people who may or may not like you, but were willing to get to know you before they'd judge you inferior.