I write this reflection on, what in years past; I would have considered a couple's certain doomsday. Within hours, Alex and Alia will walk down the aisle and take their vows. Will May 2, 2009, be the day of deliverance for the two, one of delight, or the beginning of the end? I know not. I only understand that on this date, the pair will do, as I purposefully never planned to. They will wed. I have not met either of these individuals; yet today I can think of nothing but their lives and the effect they have had on me.
I became aware of Alex and Alia, A2, for short, while on an airplane headed for The Toddling Town. It was Friday, March 27, 2009. Neither the man who will become a husband today, nor the woman, who will be declared his wife, was physically present. Indeed, I may never see the persons who sincerely moved me to rethink whether I might say, "I do". Perhaps, they know nothing of what began as an innocent encounter. The Earth did not shake, and certainly, I never expected my conviction to crumble. Indeed essentially my belief did not evolve. In truth, nothing actually changed. Still, after a three-hour exchange, I began to more seriously consider what for all of my live I rejected, marriage.
With less than a week until Election Day, it's starting to look more and more likely that the GOP will be cast "Back to the Wilderness" (Archive No. 0837) by voters. But beware: The last time Republicans were banished, they came back strong, first with their "Contract With America," then with a scary brand of neoconservatism implanted on the born-again blank slate of George W. Bush. Lord only knows what they might come up with this time.
Back in seven with my post-Election Day toon.
Andrew toon@offthewahl.com
It was a cool Fall evening in South Florida. The breeze was gentle; the sunset glorious. As I approached the intersection where, each weekend I stand in support of peace and tranquility, I did as I do when at this crossroad. I placed my arm out the window. My digits were extended and formed the symbol associated with serenity. When I am in a vehicle, at the locale commonly considered the Peace Corner I work to preserve the intent of my Saturday mission. I strive to advance awareness for the notion, this nation remains at war. Soldiers are slaughtered far from the shores of home sweet home. Civilians, in their native country continue to lose their lives for a want of war. I crave global harmony and will work to restore some sense of civility worldwide. However, as I sat silently in contemplation cries of "Country First" startled me.
For years now I have talked about power and how people may be attracted to power and the people who hold that power. It has been said
Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.
In the aftermath of the tragic hurricane in Myanmar (Burma) a few short weeks ago I was reading a long ago speech about power and fear. In 1990 Aung Sang Suu Kyi gave a "Freedom From Fear" speech beginning with the following words:
It is not power that corrupts but fear. Fear of losing power corrupts those who wield it and fear of the scourge of power corrupts those who are subject to it.
He was a beautiful bouncing baby boy. He was born to two parents that love him dearly. Even before his birth, indeed, prior to conception, this little fellow was the apple of his parent's eyes. His biological beginning was carefully calculated. As the seeds of life developed into a bright-eyed baby, the people he now knows as Mom and Dad thought of little else but Maxwell. The soon to be proud Papa and Momma anxiously anticipated the day they could hold this bundle of joy. Each of his parents was eager to meet and greet the small, sweet face of the guy that they would call Max. Maximum value, supreme significance, marvelously magnificent, all this was and would be their son. After Max was delivered and during any political season, such as this, Mom and Dad feel certain Max is issue number one.
In this country many of us equate strength with the lack of emotion. The strong one is the one who can endure life without feeling. The weak one is the one who shows their emotions and thus are banished to a life of disappointment and tragedy. With the introduction of the political narrative of Barack Obama there has been a lot of talk about the word hope. I don't ever recall this word being dissected to the degree that it has been during his unlikely run towards the White House. One would believe that no other politician has ever invoked the word in an election before. So what makes it so different today than say in 1992, when a young upstart politician challenged the status quo?
A look back over my life, epitomizes to me, what has happened to America. There was once upon a time those magic moments far removed from the madness of war, box stores, and shuttered towns. My brother Johnny and I would spend summer days at our secret 'camp' called Sundown. It sat above the steel mills far below in the valley. We would take an iron skillet, eggs, bacon, and eat our lunch there near the waterfall. I can't remember that we ever spent a moment indoors during the summer.
The battle for America has begun. We, the common folk must take our country back. Stand strong. The lies the Administration told and tells linger. Yet, truth looms large. We can no longer be victims of our own silence. Speak out.
Shout; my country need not fear. I am here. I give birth to freedom and liberty. No leader speaks for me, decides for me, or protects me. I, we are the people. We are united. Tyranny, terrorists, the people of this nation will fear you no more. We have slept too long. Today, we trust peace begins with us.
Please sit; settle in. Ponder the configuration. Contemplate, and come to a world more serene than the one you imagine you live in. Center your self and trust the woes within need not be. Often as we dash about, dilemmas abound. Few of us take the time to understand what we create. Chaos is contrived. We hide hurts, and hinder any healing. We "communicate," chatter, speak, shriek, and rarely listen. We do not inquire, "How do you feel?" Well, we do; however, our query is as insincere, hasty, or as inhibited as the average answer.
Perhaps on this tranquil day of rest you, he, she, or I might pose the question "How are you?" to our selves. Breathe deeply and reflect. Then, after ample thought tell your self what you have not dared utter. Speak of the fear that kept you quiet. Share the story with those you are close to emotionally. Perhaps, you will discover as I have on many occasions; I never needed to veil the horrors that harmed me.
What I did that was ghastly was more so to me than it was to those that love me. I learned long ago, in truth, I, we are less fond of me than others might be. Those close to my heart are far more knowledgeable than I when the subject is me, myself, and I.
Take some time on this quiet day of rest and let yourself be. Touch your heart, mind, and soul tenderly. Cogitate calmly. Deliberate deeply. Ruminate restfully. Meditate and say, "Me, meet me."
Please share what you sense, your story, your spirit, or as you choose.
I wish to present a glorious and comprehensive tome, written by Judith Moriarty. "Eve of Destruction" examines the state of affairs in America. In abstraction, the author contemplates the annihilation of this country. The original text was published at rense.com. I marveled as I first read this missive. I hope you will appreciate this deft deliberation. I am honored and privileged to share this thought-provoking treatise.
"The eastern world it tis explodin',
violence flarin', bullets loadin'
ah, you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction"
If I were given unlimited power, money, and the unknowing assistance of multitudes of pawns, players, shills, toadies, lap dogs, etc; to take down a nation, how would I do it?
It was early in the 1960s that I first learned of fear. There was much apprehension. The Cold War was on; it was with us each and every day. It had been for decades. In Capitalist countries such as the United States, children practiced rushing into Air-raid shelters. Adults feared the possible threat of a bomb. They taught their offspring to fear as well. Underground safe houses were built. In backyards throughout America, steel and concrete sanctuaries were established. "The stakes were high." Yet, these circumstances and societal beliefs did not alarm me.
Lyndon Baines Johnson in his 1964 Democratic campaign spoke of the impending threat in a political advertisement. This singular commercial came to be known as the "Daisy Ad." One transmission of that commercial was more than enough for the general public. The broadcast was considered too controversial. This public notice was not shown again. All previously scheduled airings were canceled. There was enough alarm within our society at-large. Americans did not wish to be reminded of it in their living rooms. However, beginning this weekend citizens of this country will again acquainted with fear as they watch their cable networks.
He was young, relatively speaking, and old, so old, he had already given up on his future. Nevertheless, the flame flickered brightly as he shared what he wished it would be with me. He stood close. He was turning in his project. He was not the first to complete his work. Actually, he was among the last. The students had been working on this assignment for days. It was due in ten minutes. Work not turned in on time, would be considered late. Grades could drop. Yet, that was not his deepest concern. In that moment, he worried about my future.
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