tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10087309271182672842024-03-13T08:22:58.562-07:00LIVING IN BETWEEN YOUR THOUGHTSChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.comBlogger529125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-22598148845842779982023-03-14T14:44:00.003-07:002023-03-15T12:33:22.980-07:00Resisting Revenge <h2 class="document-heading" data-pm-slice="1 1 []" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="a667b893-9ab6-460f-9ccb-085ba70e4952"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">For decades, Myanmar suffered under the yoke of brutal dictatorships, but from 2011 to 2021, it experienced a brief period of relative freedom. Hundreds of newspapers sprang up, but a military coup ended that era of mental oxygen and drove talented pro-democracy journalists underground. </span></span></h2><h2 class="document-heading" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="112a6de3-5771-4d0d-b37c-968a72363f8b"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="956ea738-791a-4aa0-8de5-6696d7087986" data-testid="issue-underline:The Irrawaddy"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">The Irrawaddy</span></i></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> was one such child of freedom, and now this newspaper still appears daily in my inbox, only thanks to the amazing dedication of its writers and editors who evade arrest and imprisonment by stealth and foreign aid. </span></span></h2><h2 class="document-heading" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="32076f08-4f99-43b2-991e-cbff0de5f5a2"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The information they provide is chilling. Every form of genocide and war crime has been committed by the military government, including the torching of 55,000 homes - obliterating entire villages in rapid h</span><span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="194b60e4-5a12-42a1-9d61-b478a0b1dbfb" data-testid="issue-underline:horrific raids."><span style="font-weight: normal;">orrific raids. </span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;">Across the country, the sanctity of home and livelihood is decimated without the slightest shred of justification.</span></span></h2><h2 class="document-heading" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="82696eb2-689e-4763-a804-d06bc90a28e8"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Myamar's fate is not unique. Every continent on earth has such horrors.</span></span></h2><h2 class="document-heading" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="253b08fb-82f6-401b-99c0-2e77aa6c4e00"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Given the extreme indignities of such treatment, I wonder how people are able to go on living, not only because of the extreme deprivation of resources needed to survive but because of the undeserved injustices thrust upon them. When I feel that I have been treated unfairly, I </span><span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="4871b531-ce59-4603-a7b4-b44cdd76d2af" data-testid="issue-underline:can stew"><span style="font-weight: normal;">can stew</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> over events for days, and only with 50-plus years of Buddhist training am I able to rein in those obsessive and disturbing thoughts - and truly letting go can take days. How would I fare under the conditions of the people in Myanmar, or Ukraine, or any other of the blighted regions of this earth?</span></span></h2><h2 class="document-heading" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="6bc7898c-ed14-4edd-b42d-2de418ef2a1c"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">This is a situation I hope never to have to face. This is a question I hope never to have to answer. Nonetheless, we must all ask ourselves: how resilient are we? How would we react to the horrors of war? Would we become insane, or mad with revenge? Or </span><span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="b644f009-08d8-4328-b54e-2231f995bec3" data-testid="issue-underline:seek reconciliation"><span style="font-weight: normal;">seek reconciliation</span></span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> and peacemaking?</span></span></h2><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="55bb8acb-db76-4186-ba66-d3a5e70c6b9f"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-773350135437366902023-03-09T12:17:00.001-08:002023-03-09T12:17:07.877-08:00The Addiction to Hopium<h2 class="document-heading" data-pm-slice="1 1 []" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="83e78feb-9500-43e5-91c2-ebb0332d4e4a"><em>Hopium (from the Urban Dictionary)<br /></em></h2><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="64e72b6f-ecc6-4699-80db-2a5c51869e20"><em>1. An addiction to false hopes.<br /><br />2. The state of wallowing in self-pity combined with the delusion of potential fame/greatness. One in this state will hope for others to pity or save them, yet paradoxically romanticize their own struggle, pitying themselves and never moving on to achieve their dreams.</em></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="c89d2834-e032-4971-8590-f0277371368d"> We dread diseases like cancer or Parkinson's, or the curse of heroin/opioid addiction, but the mental state of hopium is no less debilitating. There are many factors that contribute to hopium, but the bottom line is that one who suffers from this affliction will leave this earth a shell of what they might have been if they never broke the trance.</p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="7f52759d-fdc4-4903-add8-20a807f0b828"> What is it that most humans truly want? At the most basic level, food, clothing, shelter, and safety. Earning an honest living, which might lack the glamour of fortune and fame, nonetheless is the foundation of a healthy life and a functioning society.</p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="4093025d-8cf3-404a-969a-67839df1b82a"> Social media, dysfunctional family systems, inflation, war, PTSD from the pandemic - what else could be thrown into this mix to explain the rise of hopium? Lacking any serious studies on the subject, one can only conjecture as to the causes, or hope to find an antidote. Communities with solid life-skills training and therapeutic interventions are potential vehicles for bringing hopium addicts back to reality but these euto<span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="a058f84e-fca5-4807-98fe-023fa14c3d0d" data-testid="issue-underline:utopian">pian pla</span>ces are few and far between.</p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="8dd438c6-8015-429e-91dd-9a2d018e9a95"> A more subtle form of <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="06a5c777-b904-46a2-8619-cdab87d19e50" data-testid="issue-underline:hope">hopium</span> occurs with aging and the loss of a partner. Dreams of a life built together, of a peaceful coast into old age, of sharing sweet memories and building new ones, are all shattered with the loss of a life partner. Lingering on what might have been and resisting the <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-primary-light hover:bg-primary-lightest" data-issueid="0d915e2a-7244-4952-82f1-369fb7258dec" data-testid="issue-underline:changed">new</span> reality are in fact a form of <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="7a4d5d10-7174-4d4e-b8fb-7b4c7bcc9c8e" data-testid="issue-underline:hope.">hopium.</span> Not adjusting to reality will also be a pathway to despair.<br /></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="8e0e7ca2-ff7d-424e-bef3-8ee045febc63">Behind all of the above is the inescapable fact that we are all just temporary visitors <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="1d25853a-de2c-4775-aaa5-c0e11a62cf29" data-testid="issue-underline:to">on</span> the planet. No matter what we have built or failed to build, it will all be washed away in the annals of timelessness. So <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="f0722ff1-586a-45c1-af0f-784d634f26e0" data-testid="issue-underline:perhaps a">perhaps al</span><span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-primary-light hover:bg-primary-lightest" data-issueid="d7accf6e-1aa2-437b-8642-afdf6b792e06" data-testid="issue-underline:a">ittle</span> laughter at the foibles of us humans might <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="69b0744e-484a-4d74-abbe-8b62f6734c53" data-testid="issue-underline:be">be in order?</span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="48663f2a-53ab-44c2-b31d-905b2d26fc1e"><br /></p><div class="break-words meaning mb-4"><br /></div><div class="break-words meaning mb-4"><br /></div><div class="break-words meaning mb-4"><br /></div><div class="break-words meaning mb-4"><br /></div><div class="break-words meaning mb-4"><br /></div><br /><div class="break-words meaning mb-4"> <br /></div><p></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-12074097965790902342023-03-08T10:42:00.003-08:002023-03-08T11:07:33.622-08:00Zero-Sum Game
<p>Thanks to the mysterious ways of the subconscious mind, I awoke this morning
with the phrase <i>zero-sum game</i> dancing through my brain like wind
blowing through the leaves of a tree, rustling my thought patterns in an
erratic dance. Under the <span data-issueid="d8419639-49ee-40df-867b-e2405f151b1e" data-testid="issue-underline:blanket"><span class="issue-underline">winter weight</span></span>
of my comforter, I ponder, w<i>hat the hell is a zero-sum game?</i></p>
<p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="e7c5694b-00b1-4cc7-a99e-749b7b451f1c"><span class="issue-underline"><span data-issueid="0f30ed50-d77e-4044-b91e-2a6d09c5b35f" data-testid="issue-underline:Luckily, confusion can be resolved">Luckily,
confused wonderment can be revolved</span></span> with a few clicks of the
keyboard, and voila! <span data-issueid="e3c381df-913d-411a-a410-4de47c428bc2" data-testid="issue-underline:Wikipedia"><span class="issue-underline">Wikepedia</span></span>
resolves the conundrum. "One person's gain is equivalent to another's
loss, so the net change in wealth or benefit is zero."</p>
<p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="7db964e1-afcc-4cf1-a525-1d7b960f1704">This
definition makes no sense at all to my primitive brain. There will always be a
winner and a loser in a zero-sum game, and that neutral, amoral no man's land
of zero doesn't mean shit to the loser. (Thank you again Chris Rock for giving
me permission to be street-expressive.) You have simply lost your shirt to a
smug victor.</p>
<p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="ee9fcbd7-9721-4e84-8c0c-02e06272de40">Obviously,
an economist would explain how this is a useful tool for analyzing
"growth," a euphemism for getting the most from the other fellow in
the greed game, whether on the street corner or inside multinational
corporations that extract life force from Mother Earth using the most advanced
technologies.</p>
<p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="5221508a-413e-436b-9a24-cbc7d7ed94e9">While <i>zero-sum game</i> is an edgy concept that sounds cool rolling off the tongue,
it is actually an oxymoron. Zero is the fulcrum between positive and negative,
the balance point between minus and plus. When you are on the <span data-issueid="8b7fe4a7-971b-4b71-b190-783aa7678459" data-testid="issue-underline:disadvantaged"><span class="issue-underline">minus</span></span>
end of the equation, pain and poverty are its fruits. So<i> </i>the use of <i>zero-sum game </i>as an analytical tool<i> </i>actually becomes an insult to the dignity of human beings in their struggle to survive and thrive.<br /></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-43909605053493917622023-03-07T13:26:00.000-08:002023-03-07T13:29:48.629-08:00Woke Up , Oh Depressed Ones<p data-pm-slice="1 1 []" data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="60272908-2b78-43f3-b281-defa23e23928"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">For the love of God, how can deeply depressed people get relief? Could God <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-primary-light hover:bg-primary-lightest" data-issueid="72e8e882-5b78-4b4d-b386-d044289457d2" data-testid="issue-underline:pull">haul</span> them out of the muck of existential blankness? <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-primary-light hover:bg-primary-lightest" data-issueid="beb826b4-f0ab-4fca-a106-1e7c1eba58cd" data-testid="issue-underline:Or, would it be better if we upped the anty and saved them from the whole shooting contest?">Better yet, up the anty and save them from the whole shooting match?</span> (Chris Rock, I need your help on this one.)</span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="e0fb8848-fea6-4caf-9601-1b3509bfc31e"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">For God to be able to help us, does he depend on us to fulfill his role as "God"? And why am I capitulating to the cultural norm of <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="042e5b5f-9db5-4826-949b-1651ad5cd852" data-testid="issue-underline:capitalizing on the">capitalizing the</span> name of this ineffable good guy, who is deemed ubiquitous, yet invisible and unseen?</span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="3263a729-22c9-4a80-8370-e148a04cf9f4"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">I use the male pronoun because everyone who <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="5741d26f-403b-495f-816b-9d5b7e758d9b" data-testid="issue-underline:swears">swears</span> fealty to this invisible entity calls <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="4610ce17-c803-417f-8414-c4ae6e51fa96" data-testid="issue-underline:it "he,"">it a "he,"</span> which reminds me of a joke my atheist father used to tell. A man dies, ascends to heaven, and then by some miracle is revived and returns to earth. A bevy of doctors and his curious family are eager to know whether he has seen God. "Yes, and she's black!" <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="f9a06002-e1c8-4ecc-af41-27060ad963fb" data-testid="issue-underline:replied">replies</span> the man.</span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="2419fad6-eede-4c22-8bad-f28278147f45"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">I am a fan of the much-needed woke culture, de Santis be damned, so I must caution all worshipers of this ineffable Big Daddy in the sky. Rather than calling Him "He," how about "Ze?" Or "Them," although using "Them" might mistake you for a pantheist and you could end up getting help from Zeus or Thor instead of Christ's daddy.</span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="c7ca28e7-ef42-4a28-b55f-835776332fa3"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">As the reader might suspect, I am not only the <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="63121c7f-d861-4ff0-8db7-98f5e9c402e0" data-testid="issue-underline:offspring">off-spring</span> of avowed atheists, but embrace Buddhist philosophy, which posits that God is a dualistic fiction. Instead of looking to a pie-in-the-sky father figure, the answer to that depressive state that drowns so many of us is...look within. Uncover the false beliefs that have been thrust upon you from the womb and out. Know that your inherent nature is <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-primary-light hover:bg-primary-lightest" data-issueid="afefb98b-d536-43f6-96ef-d82de8602000" data-testid="issue-underline:positive,">good,</span> filled with the potential to live in blessed <span class="issue-underline underline text-gray-darkest font-body decoration-2 underline-offset-4 transition decoration-error-light hover:bg-error-lightest" data-issueid="7941be8f-ae80-416a-a40a-47cd4524c47c" data-testid="issue-underline:harmony">harmony</span> with all living forms. It is our alienation from reality that depresses our body and mind. In the same way that water vapor rises from a cold, wet pavement when the sun shines upon it in the morning, connecting to our energetic commonality evaporates depression.</span> </p><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="6c7d9b36-e8b5-4336-b630-db38e4d155d0"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="6c7d9b36-e8b5-4336-b630-db38e4d155d0"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="6c7d9b36-e8b5-4336-b630-db38e4d155d0"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: small;"><br /></span></p><p data-private="redact" data-wt-guid="6c7d9b36-e8b5-4336-b630-db38e4d155d0"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span><br /></span></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-52814840043814017302021-06-22T10:14:00.004-07:002021-06-22T10:18:50.784-07:00The Chapel of My Mind<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Rest in the nature of mind</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">The yogi coaxes</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Voice of the ages</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Delivered via screen and wit</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">In the vast chapel of my mind.</span></span></p>
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</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="MsoIntenseEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;">Long-coupled mourning
doves returning home to nest</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="MsoIntenseEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;">Tiny cactus flowers in
magnificent magenta bloom </span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="MsoIntenseEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;">Lizards fast as
lightning traversing the stone terrace</span></span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span class="MsoIntenseEmphasis"><span style="font-style: normal;">Clear vision awakens my sleeping heart.</span></span></span></p>
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</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Sucking silver water from living cells</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">A drought wrought by the hubris of humans</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Invokes the wrath of the Mother </span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">We pray for salvation</span></span></p><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">And disappear into screens.</span></span></p>
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</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Resting in the dark womb of transgalactic space</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Where silence reigns beyond sound</span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">A shooting star pierces the veil<br /></span></span></p><span style="font-size: large;">
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Times;">Signaling birth and death.</span></span></p>
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{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-37982102010119427632021-06-13T10:03:00.000-07:002021-06-13T10:03:11.226-07:00Watching Over<p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Overseeing our planet behind gossamer veils</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">They stretch into the infinity of space</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Goodness is the brand</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kindness the fuel of their intention </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">We scurry like our insect brethren</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Unaware of the well of healing</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">That encircles our universe and beyond.<br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-35518622528104073322021-06-12T10:53:00.007-07:002021-06-12T11:10:38.552-07:00Nothing is Real<p><span style="font-size: large;">Nothing is real <br />So say the sages<br />Then where did this<br />Belly fat come from? </span></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-67960600182835638772021-06-12T10:26:00.001-07:002021-06-12T10:26:34.809-07:00 In Dreams<p><span style="font-size: large;">We danced together in one body<br />Showering in a vortex of golden particles<br />Love a forcefield of delight<br />He wanted them to see<br />How we were blended<br />Shadows of the dreamtime<br />Linger in the morning light.<br /></span><br /></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-69049514523551391462021-06-11T20:11:00.003-07:002021-06-11T20:15:54.574-07:00 In God's Hands<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span><span>He was cool</span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">A man of the world <br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Shrouded in the gold of hip</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Until his spine gave way</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">A universe colliding</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">An identity collapsing<br /></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Who will want me now</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">He cried </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">Limp and helpless</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">He died last week</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: small;">God will have him now.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-34809599204939919872021-06-09T16:29:00.004-07:002021-06-10T19:41:25.462-07:00<p> </p><div><div dir="auto"><div class="ecm0bbzt hv4rvrfc e5nlhep0 dati1w0a" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_7c"><div class="j83agx80 cbu4d94t ew0dbk1b irj2b8pg"><div class="qzhwtbm6 knvmm38d"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="d2edcug0 hpfvmrgz qv66sw1b c1et5uql oi732d6d ik7dh3pa ht8s03o8 a8c37x1j keod5gw0 nxhoafnm aigsh9s9 d3f4x2em fe6kdd0r mau55g9w c8b282yb iv3no6db jq4qci2q a3bd9o3v knj5qynh oo9gr5id hzawbc8m" dir="auto"><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><u>My Garden</u></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Thriving in an alternate time-space dimension</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">The plant beings of my hidden garden </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Boogie to the beat of the celestials</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Roots entwined, lovers and friends alike</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">A community of breath givers who</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Lovingly display quivering filaments</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">While the wind gives voice to their effulgence.</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><br /></div></div></span></span></div></div></div></div></div>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-80792591778592013502021-06-08T10:32:00.004-07:002021-06-08T10:32:53.847-07:00Ode to the Noble Warthog<p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Beware the warthogs</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Those savage siblings of bacon bearers</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Who confer not sanctity upon humans</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">But rouse their independence with feral jaws</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Partisans in nature's war against the two-leggeds</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">They flaunt white tusks with deferential defiance.<br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-35611581756248578742021-06-08T10:09:00.001-07:002021-06-08T19:19:33.436-07:00<p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> A distant fire in the night </span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Unexpected illumination</span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span><br /></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-82873763033662149572021-06-07T10:48:00.002-07:002021-06-13T09:54:00.564-07:00Beware of Fear<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Beware of fear," fear exhorts.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I will tear you to shreds</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Take your sanity</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Bleed your limbs</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Kill your children</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">He smiles with gregarious malice</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">As the multitudes take flight.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">"Beware of love," fear whispers<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">It will extinguish my identity</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Melt my presence</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Turn me to vapor</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And the world will sing. <br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-15200229632968360652021-06-07T10:40:00.004-07:002021-06-07T10:40:46.934-07:00Same Earth Same Sky<p><span style="font-size: large;"> An indigo bird ruffles her plumes<br />Sunshine and rain grace the glistening body<br />Embraced by the generosity of nature<br />A cornucopia of seeds and berries<br />Singing a cascade of melodies<br />As she lifts from branch to sky.<br /><br />A bird drab brown, eyes darting<br />Feathers parched by fractured soil<br />No green leaves grace this tree <br />Where predators stalk the ground<br />Same earth same sky same tree.</span></p>Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-22810770872009501362020-04-25T22:54:00.002-07:002020-04-26T09:18:45.050-07:00Between the Frying Pan and the Fire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">When the first inklings of a pandemic started brewing in late January, I was in Bodgaya, India, the place where the historical Buddha attained enlightenment while mediating under a bodhi tree. Around</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="ILfuVd NA6bn c3biWd"><span class="e24Kjd"> 260 BCE, a few hundred years after his passing, an impressive temple was built on that spot by the Mauryan emperor Asoka, who converted his empire to Buddhism.</span></span></span> </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="ILfuVd NA6bn c3biWd"><span class="e24Kjd">Today, as one of the most sacred sites for Buddhists, the Mahibodha Temple draws thousands of pilgrims from around the world, particularly during the winter months when the weather is pleasant.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">At the beginning of my stay, China was the hot spot for covid-19 and given the official stance of the US government, there was no understanding of an imminent threat. Luckily, I had worn a face mask when submerged in that sea of humanity coursing around the Mahibodha Temple, not because of covid-19 but because my Buddhist teachers warned me of "super bugs" that could invade my system and wreak havoc, given the diverse population converging in that one small area renowned as the cradle of Buddhism.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was only when my departure date of March 11 drew near that a sense of urgency began to dawn on me. By then, cases of the virus were being reported in Delhi, the hub through which I would pass on my way back to the US. Nonetheless, I did not wear a face mask in the airport, nor did anyone else. There was no such notion of social distancing going through Indian customs, where we were packed in like sardines. And my flight was full.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As a distinct counterpoint, when I landed in the US, customs was deserted and the baggage claim area of LAX was empty, even though it was high noon on a weekday. On March 12th, I had a checkup at my doctor's office and since then I have not left the house. Going from a seven week period of massive immersion in humanity - to quarantine in a very quiet neighborhood - has been more of a shock than expected, mainly because of the situation in which we find ourselves.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">On the one hand there is the fire...the spread of a virulent disease that no one has yet to understand and which has the potential to kill off broad segments of humanity. Lockdown is the current solution for containing the fire. On the other hand is the frying pan...we may save lives from the virus but we will lose them to loss of income, loss of safe housing, loss of ability to afford the basics, and the loss of social gatherings of all stripes that are the glue of our cultural identity. In short, a loss of security on all levels will be as devastating as the disease itself.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thus our choice - the frying pan or the fire. On that external level we are at an historic conundrum. The only thing left is to maintain our basic sanity and will to overcome the tidal wave of disruption and change. This requires some mighty inner resources, and find them we must.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
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Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-12834461468735534912020-04-05T12:45:00.001-07:002020-04-05T12:53:35.531-07:00The Power of "No!"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our planet is exquisitely designed, an interconnected masterpiece of cause and effect. Recalling an example based on quantum physics, the flap of a butterfly's wings in Rio de Janero can effect the weather in Moscow - and if continued logically, that gentle beating of fragile wing material will effect the "all that is" in this universe and beyond. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Everything that "is" exists because of a near infinite multitude of factors that support its physical manifestation, albeit a temporary, ever-changing and impermanent existence as that particular form. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The exquisite beauty of Mother Nature brings forth a dazzling display of animate and inanimate forms - many yet to be discovered and some to face extinction.<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> But interconnection is a neutral process; the good, the bad and the ugly all have a part to play in the grand design. Which brings us to this point on Earth, an uncharted time in global history. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Technology has caught up with the evolution of <i>homo sapiens</i> as we spread across the planet. A message can be sent from one side of the earth and received on the other side in 1 second or less. In a mere 24 hours, a well-scheduled airplane route can drop you on the other side of the world. And if that plane route ceased to exist and ships were moored, you might never get home again, a stranger in a strange land.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The intricate web of technology that allowed for the creation a global village now teeters on the edge. Our vital supplies come from lands near and far. Governments either have fragile alliances, neutral partners, or enemies. The plunder of our Mother's resources has created an unsustainable population of consumers and their insatiable viral counterparts.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's time to say "no"to all those who use power to line their coffers. It's time to say "no" to all those in leadership who would turn a blind eye to the needs of their countries. It's time to say "no" to people who walk around with impunity endangering their lives and those of others.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">When we say "no" to what we don't want it paves the way to "yes," what we do want. It will be up to us to define that future. Those who sit complacently on the sidelines will lose their vision to the more aggressive, restless forces. What choice will each one of us make?</span></span></span></span><br />
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Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-43935583387182842552020-01-29T19:55:00.000-08:002020-01-29T19:55:48.460-08:00Will the Real Buddhists Please Stand Up?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">At the heart of Buddhism is the notion of compassion, balanced with innate wisdom. Nelson Mandela (who is not a Buddhist, at least in name) got it right when he said, "A good mind and a good heart are a formidable combination."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fast forward to Bodgaya, India, the place where the historical Buddha Siddartha sat beneath a bodhi tree and attained enlightenment. Given that India is an ancient country with written historical records, it is possible this lore is based on a real event. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Every year on a certain date in February, calculated on the movements of the moon, 10,000 Buddhist monks, nuns, lay practitioners and others gather at an enormous temple erected around <i>the</i> bodhi tree to pray for world peace. The spectacle is impressive. Aside from an array of people dressed in robes of many colors, the grounds are adorned with literally thousands of flowers arranged in mandala-like designs, as well as gold statues of Buddhas with attending saints, and an array of traditional Tibetan religious items that are a veritable feast of eye candy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Upon leaving the sprawling grounds of the Mahabodhi Temple and descending into secular India, one encounters an array of beggars who are counting on the entering or exiting faithful to spare some change. Yes, these unfortunates are the legendary horrors of India. A teenage boy with his hands cut off holding a cup in his forearms. An emaciated man sitting on the ground with a withered leg that runs permanently parallel to his upright torso. Yet another teenager with no legs scraping his torso along the ground, sweat pouring down his face at the effort, pulling at the robes of a monk who pays him no mind. An old woman so thin she looks as if she is about to shatter, being screamed at by an Indian policeman. "Move," he bellows from his tall height as the clearly disoriented woman looks up helplessly. I think to intervene but decide that challenging an Indian authority might not be wise. All the while, a group of Tibetan women look on with sympathy. No one, including me, helps her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I do give a few of these hapless beings some rupees, but by the time I reach my hotel I have run out...too many on the five minute walk to manage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next morning on my way to the temple to film - and meditate, I pass a group of monks eating at a makeshift table by the dusty roadside. Although it is humble fare, they are happy and fresh in the early morning light. I stop to buy a chocolate bar at the store where they eat, and as I unwrap it I notice a small girl in rags looking wistfully at the food the monks are consuming. I take a third of the bar and hand it to her. Then I wonder why none of the monks offer a part of their breakfast - or even notice this mute wraith standing behind them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So where is all this going? Not sure. But the complete indifference to these wretched human beings by the seemingly well-fed is shocking. The seeming callousness cruel. Apparently, overwhelming poverty is discouraging, generating a hopeless inaction, a determined avoidance. Although it is easy to point a finger, in reality they are me and I am them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What to do next?</span><br />
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Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-69840338779417898162019-11-02T04:42:00.000-07:002019-11-02T04:42:47.743-07:00We Are All the Same<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We
have more in common than our differences. At a time when religion,
politics, and class seem to divide us, at the core these are just
illusions based on stories we make up about our identities. </div>
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Founded
upon inculcated belief systems taught to us at an early age, human
beings grow up with a solidified sense of false self that draws a line between
your color and my color...my savior and your lost soul...my
tailored suits better than your worn out jeans. </div>
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Although
these divisions seem to run deep, they are in fact superficial
prejudices. What people really care about is being loved. Being heard.
Being safe. Having friends, family and food on the table. Whether
gathered around a clay pot in a mud hut or seated at a banquet table with crystal goblets, connection is all that matters. That is what’s really happening.</div>
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Next time you look around, try to see other other people as just like you.
The clothes, the occupation, the social status are simply costumes in a
fast moving, ephemeral play. </div>
Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-27037512724011596312019-10-27T05:39:00.003-07:002019-10-27T05:42:26.877-07:00The Day the Machines "Took Rest."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">Tomorrow is Vishwakarma Day in India, the 24 hour period where machines are worshipped and thus lay idle. I discovered this interesting fact when ordering prints at a photo shop in the heart of Delhi. Their printing presses will be the subject of good vibes and a welcome rest on this day, which leaves me to wonder if the relentless smog of this city will also be lifted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If one can be arrested for selling beef in this cow-worshipping country, might it be that anyone abusing his or her machine on this day of worship could also be subjected to penalties?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Certainly the streets of Delhi could use a break from the relentless pollution of cars, motorcycles, buses and all other mode of transport. But with modernity in full swing these days, an ancient rite may not hold sway in this bustling metropolis where busy-ness rules.</span><br />
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Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-44879754573708237822019-07-08T10:44:00.002-07:002019-07-08T10:45:10.066-07:00George Washington, Visionary<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">George Washington, our first American president, understood the duties of the office and the pitfalls inherent in such power. He grasped the danger of self-serving, egotistical individuals who might gain power, and named them the greatest threat to democracy. `</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Just as Eisenhower in his parting speech as the president told us to "beware of the military-industrial complex," Washington preceded him with a prescient parting speech.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">George Washington's Farewell Address: </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">"The disorders and miseries which result gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner or later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more fortunate than his competitors, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation, on the ruins of public liberty. …</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21;">"It serves a</span></i></span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>lways to distract the public councils and enfeeble the public administration. It agitates the community with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms, kindles the animosity of one part against another, foments occasionally riot and insurrection. It opens the door to foreign influence and corruption, which finds a facilitated access to the government itself through the channels of party passions. Thus the policy and the will of one country are subjected to the policy and will of another."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline;"><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">It is pointless to correct Trump or hope that reason will prevail. 45 has clearly demonstrated that he is the very person (or prototype) that George Washington foresaw...and the Republicans are "the prevailing faction" of handmaidens to usher in a dictatorship.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">The next election is a watershed moment.</span></span></span></div>
Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-86475990617021512862019-07-04T16:18:00.002-07:002019-07-04T16:18:51.379-07:00Happy July 4th Not<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">A few hundred years ago today, our forefathers signed the Declaration of Independence from Great Britain. Then an arch enemy, today a staunch ally, the trajectory of history clearly points to impermanence-in-action. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the decades this date has become a time to celebrate freedom from the oppression of a foreign power - theorectically. Manufacturers of flags and fireworks depend on this time of year for a bonanza of revenue, and barbeques replete with hot dogs, hamburgers, corn and beer are de rigeur.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That my countrymen see this date as party time could be considered a good thing - a day off from the workaday world, a time to get together with family and friends (if one is lucky enough to have those connections). A national holiday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the risk of sounding like <i>The Grinch Who Stole Christmas</i>, this year's celebratory events feel like nails on a chalkboard. We have concentration camps at the southern border and a madman at the helm. We have wars of attrition, some public, some clandestine, happening of every continent. And yes, we still have more freedoms than many places on the globe. For this I am grateful...and confused. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So when people are chirping, "Happy July 4th" to me, a cynical little voice in my heart goes WTF?</span><br />
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Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1008730927118267284.post-82180792248472642792019-06-30T11:48:00.001-07:002019-07-03T15:46:40.243-07:00Fair and Balanced Journalism<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: medium;">The Fox television station's </span><span style="font-size: medium;">moniker "fair and balanced news" is an oxymoron. Nonetheless, this concept has merit in the broad arena of journalism.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Fareed Zakaria, a respected anchor, has produced a documentary about the rise of white nationalism. A promo for the upcoming show features a clip of the philosopher-in-chief delivering a monologue; a rationale laying out the raison d'<i>ê</i>tre for this noxious rising tide. In stark contrast to the man's racist message, his countenance was relaxed, friendly, and gentlemanly, making his viewpoint dangerously palatable to the uninformed masses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">In the name of "fairness to all sides" Fareed allowed this monster to roll out his twisted logic unchallenged - which gave plenty of air time for the viewing public to soak in a demented philosophy. One could easily lift this segment and circulate it widely as a rationale for white supremacy - as our "fair-minded" journalist nodded solemnly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fareed's respectful approach</span><span style="font-size: medium;"> was an infuriating interpretation of what it means to promote free speech. What if he were interviewing Hitler? Would it be a "fair and balanced" strategy to remain silently attentive as the hate-monger rolled out his message, all the while allowing ample opportunity for viewers to ingest this primetime message and make it their own?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Fareed assured us that "the other side" would be heard as well. Yet, allowing more than one sentence to be uttered by this madman without an immediate and logical counter-punch is irresponsible journalism. Is it possible that Fareed, an Indian man with brown skin </span><span style="font-size: medium;">(as pointed out by his interviewee) is trying to win brownie points for being a reasonable man despite his country's historic humiliation at the hands of Colonial-era powers?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">The phrase "Uncle Tom" was a term applied to black people who catered to bigoted white folk. I stand in no judgment of those accused of being Uncle Toms, as it was a survival strategy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Nonetheless, in my book Fareed has just earned the title of Uncle Tom-anand - and all in the name of free and balanced journalism.</span></div>
Chttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10780008246766044842noreply@blogger.com0