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Showing posts from November, 2015

Keeping Hope Alive

I decided to turn off CNN before it aired the police car videocam of an officer shooting bullets execution-style into a prone African American teenager. In a segment before the release of this video, Don Lemon spoke about being based in Chicago for CNN. Surprisingly, he spoke with unbridled passion about his treatment at the hands of the Chicago police who call themselves "...the toughest gang on the block." He also let the TV audience know that incredible brutality is the calling card of that city's force, gone unchecked for decades and with full knowledge of city officials. For him, it was no surprise that this latest travesty of justice had occurred.

Add to this two films I saw in the last few days:

1) The Hunting Ground, a documentary that describes rampant rape and sexual assault on college campuses that are covered up unilaterally by the administrations. The motive - to protect the reputation of the school while the victims are victimized twice; once during the assau…

Pretty Boys of the Jihad

The rugged, wind-whipped faces of Syrian, Iraqi, Afghani jihadists bespeak of hard lives etched in the rock and sand of inhospitable landscapes. But the pretty, soft facial contours of Western jihadists confound the average onlooker.

These young men could be students at an Ivy League university, albeit with a closer beard shave to match the au courant look of every hip male around. They have not been caught between the fire and the frying pan, suffering Western fire-power and the repression of ruthless dictators. 

Hitler Youth sported the same fresh-faced killers, which leads to the conclusion that mind control trumps personal experience. 

In terms of trumping one thing over another, it appears that Donald Trump is still trumping all the other wackos for the lead in the Republican candidacy. Since he uses the internment of American-Japanese in WWII as a model for how we could handle "the Syrian" problem,  we Americans now have a bigger problem on our hands than ever imagined.

If…

Oh How Things Change

On the local news today, a jubilant family welcomes home its young male adult with hugs that say, "Thank God you are home, safe and back in our arms." An all to common visual gracing the airwaves over the years, these vignettes usually refer to soldiers coming back from Iraq or Afghanistan.

But oh how things change. This manchild was returning from Paris.

The Anti-Testosterone Shot.

A salient theme when viewing photos of jihadists is that the vast majority are young men circa 20ish to 30ish. An age range when normal, virile young man hunt for food, procure a wife to bear his children and protect the cave, these fellows have used their testosterone-soaked cells to maim and kill instead.

Perhaps the solution would be to take those young men on the "S" list in France, or the "watch" lists of other countries and give them large doses of estrogen to counterbalance that unholy surge of testosterone. With the slow development of breasts and belly fat, the urge to shoot kalashnikovs and shout "Ali Akbar" while mowing down the innocents might transform. Perhaps these young men would then take to planting community gardens and knitting wool caps for the needy.

Alas, no such injection method would be considered ethical or humane. Black humor aside, a more logical conclusion might be to train the disaffected for real jobs and real life skills that…

The Flora Technician and the Family Assistant

Language evolves to reflect shifts in culture. The hi-tech age has infused our zeitgeist with euphemistic labels to "spin" occupations. After all, if you are a red-blooded American boy/man, it wouldn’t be cool to reveal at cocktail parties that you babysit for a living wage or take care of houseplants.
Recently, a young man told me that he was “a family assistant” a.k.a. baby sitter with a driver’s license. A day job while he hones his skills as a filmmaker, the title gives him some semblance of dignity. When asked to give the details of “the family assistant,” it turns out to be something us women have done with our eyes half-closed for millennia. Formerly the domain of housewives and spinsters, this fellow of the brave new world must dignify his work with a quasi-technological ringtone.
And then, meet “the flora technician.” Low and behold, this gentleman explains that he tends to potted plants in the corporate environment. Now this is impressive! Keeping great big plants in…