I'm not talking politics because, well, basically, I'm, uh, anal about some things. Since I have decided to organize and separate the political from everyday entries it is like I have to wait until the web design is done. Avoidance of some kind there.
I will say this. I find that many folks who at one time felt comfortable having their politics defined by the usual parties are now, like myself, defining their own. And perhaps, as I, they find themselves slightly dizzy at the alliances such Ala carte ideological shopping has brought about. Believe me. I never thought I would see the day that I would share the high chagrin that Rush Lima brings to the forum. And, no doubt, he would be offended on my thoughts about abortion, or gay/lesbian rights. As would this one broad, what's her name????....Dr. frigging Laura. I find myself nodding my head at the pragmatic approach she brings to her issues. Jeeesus! What have I come to? But , distinguishing the parts from the whole, it is her pragmatism I endorse. Not her stultifying moralistic posturing.
But then, I had concluded a long time ago, for my purposes, that the bible is , if nothing else, a list of consequences spelled out in sophomoric tales of high drama. For instance, and I should look for the link for this, I remember reading that all the forbidden foods listed in the old testament actually had some lethal attributes about them that their primitive sciences could not detect. Something of that nature. Point being, it had no spiritual implications, just practical ones. Like die of botulism or puke your guts out. But, it's all dressed up in serious language with serious penalties and it has had humans making asinine assumptions about food ever since, from Catholicisms' old 'no fish on Friday' dictum to starving Hindus staring woefully at their fat cows, which is actually Hindu, but what the hell, they are all control freaks to me.
Another interesting study indicated incidence of uterine cancers were minimal for those women who married and basically confined themselves to one or two men. However, on either end of the spectrum , they discovered celibate women and prostitutes had equally high rates of uterine cancers. Moral lesson? Doubt it. Practical lesson? Yeah. Respect the design of the human body. Take it past its' limitations, subject it to that which it was not designed to withstand, and there are consequences. In order to enforce behavior that propagates the species, it seems very handy to make it a spiritual or moral matter. No matter the insanity and desperate dramas that occur when people conclude their sexual behavior has put them on the wrong side of the pearly gates. Or more sadly and vividly to the point, one need only look to Afghanistan to see demonstrated the monstrous nature of a debased and profane religious dogma, esp. around sexuality and women. That is sufficient reason alone to nuke the bastards. Any people so barbaric, so intrinsically primitive that absolutely no objection from their very soul rises up renounce the atrocities their religious leaders mandate and peddle as sacred, deserve no mercy. They are not misled. They are simply twisted and should be eradicated before their diseased spirit is released to the universe. Muslims on the moon. What a horrid thought.
Racist?? No. It's practical. They want to kill me so I want to kill them first. They want to destroy all evidence of civilization as we know it. I say their civilization is stillborn, never emerging from the contractions and contortions of the biblical era they so revere and hold as true.
And what has this to do with politics? Nothing and everything. I have forever been on the (seemingly) obligatory spiritual quest,and, my suspicion is that it doesn't end. I have learned that there are truths in most religious stories and one must endeavor to discern the absolutes or salient principles that seem to harmonize across the spectrum of man kinds' various religions. Why can it not as easily occur to the human mind that there are so many religions because each one shows another aspect of the multi dimensionality of creation as well as the connectedness. No, like fucking truculent children we brandish OUR truth.
Fuck this planet, I say.
And the fucking point is...............
( thinking I really need my bloody ritalin), such is the journey I am now making in politics. Meandering through the words, choosing what resonates as truth to me. It is a new journey and , at this point, a rather shrill one. But the answers are not held in the hand of one or two parties.
Much like spiritual wisdom, truth is scattered across creation.
Now I'm actually going to post this inchoate collection of words simply because I find that if I postpone posting to edit or such, it doesn't get done. That is why this version has no links. Don't have time I will commit to bringing them forth soon. With luck , I'll get my day off Wednesday.
I am so remiss in being present here that I hesitate to show my face. Any readers i may have had, no doubt, have long forgotten me. So I think I'll just meander along with my thoughts. The original intent for this undertaking anyway. I really feel silly and stupid when I allow the idea of readership to influence me. It is really insane to expect a readership, given the multitude of blogs out there. But, even so, their presence should never determine content. Authenticity is a state I aspire to.
For instance, i have an esteemed older brother with whom I have always had an incredibly volatile relationship. I recently gave him this sites' address. Since he has not yet become a great fan of the internet, I don't expect that he would log on very frequently. But ought I temper what I say in light of his possible readership? To the degree that, since i am not completely anonymous on here, given a few acquaintances have the address, I would never divulge the family 'secrets', but, i am often to comment on the psychological ramifications of being raised by a manic depressive bi-polar mother. Sans medication, which, I imagine, back in the 50s', probably would have constituted lithium and shock treatments. As it is, all her damn kids could use a few shock treatments.
So, I won't 'name names', but, some of those deep dark family issues will be written about in a hidden blog, accessible to whoever I deem able to comprehend and respect what my heart will plead and murmur over in those pages. Which brings me to an update
I am really happy with how the revised roadSassy is coming along. Sandra of Design in Reflections, has sent this, this for me to comment on or tweak. I can't find anything to fault.
I am all over the map. Way too ADD this morning. I wish the hell they would give me my Ritalin back. See, I have a rather touchy liver which, apparently, the Ritalin aggravates. My theory is if my liver can survive a year of chemo, Ritalin should be a piece of cake. However, since these kind docs were instrumental in saving my life, I heed their caution. I could probably insist on it , arguing quality of life supersedes my livers' longevity. Words I'd being eating, should my liver stutter.
So, my frigging brain stutters. Actually, my brain usually feels like its caught in a strobe light Without the Ritalin, focusing takes way more energy than the actual accomplishment. I set out two hours ago to change over computers. Since, I've taken my suits to the dry cleaner, almost made coffee twice, looked into my files to zip some up to upload to Freeservers. Started a retort to some poor fool I am being needlessly malicious to, in his comment section. ( I'm being so vile, I've offended myself. Oh well ). And when I have so little time off , when a block appears, I go nuts with all I wish to do. But, I have to, have to, have to, get this new computer set up.
So, I should go now. Except, I really really want to know why I have never heard of irrealism before? I am beginning to feel irrelevant::::sigh::::
A new computer sits in one corner of the room, still neatly boxed. Its owner sits in front of the old one, rather wishing she were neatly boxed somewhere. Yes trouble in cyber land. Not only has my faithful very first computer come stuttering to it final leg of the journey, my server for roadSassy has been down for days. So, to the few kind readers I might have, roadSassy has taken a small remedial detour and shall be posting regularly in short order. A day off tomorrow should find me trying to figure out how to get my old files out of my old one. Can't seem to download to floppies. A drive seems to be missing or something. Oh well. I'll just upload key files to a few online storage sites and then go from there. The actual redesign I had originally undertaken before my sweet computer went tits up, will have to be delayed until I install my new software. I think. Who knows!. One is hard pressed to find someone more 'computer stupid' than me. Be that as it may, roadSassy will be, uh, road worthy soon!!
"Menachem Begin made peace with Egypt's Anwar Sadat, and Yitzhak Rabin made peace with Jordan's King Hussein. But five Israeli prime ministers have been unable to make peace with Arafat. Do you know why? For a simple reason: Because Arafat does not want peace. "
These are gruesome pills to swallow, but, I think it is a damn good idea to be reminded and to comprehend that there are millions of souls who blindly, incoherently loathe us. Terrorists ought to be a bit more selective as to who they wish to devour. The fat leftists are far more tasty than the muscled right and they are quite the expendable portion of the population.
This man has a serious problem with Cheney. Very serious. This is a time when the word, venomous, certainly pertains. I have no idea, at this point , about the veracity of his statements because I'm totally distracted by his style. I mean, it is verbal slice and dice. Awesome. Maybe we could get him to write a scathing piece on the shakedown artists in Cincinnati.
."...there's a reluctance to admit there's any "enemy" at all. It was not a good sign when New York City decided to entrust its special prayer service at Yankee Stadium to Oprah, and it would have been too much to expect Oprah to forgo Oprahfying. "May we leave this place," she concluded, "determined to now use every moment that we yet live to turn up the volume in our own lives, to create deeper meaning, to know what really matters. What really matters is who you love and how you love."
Not right now, Oprah. What really matters is who we get to Afghanistan and what they do once they're there. Oprah's line isn't pacifist. Pacifism in the honorable sense is Mahatma Gandhi, a determined nonviolence that bent a mighty empire to its will. What's happening now is not pacifism but passivism-a terrible inertia filled with feel-good platitudes that absolve us from action, or even feeling. It was thus inevitable that an all-network, all-star telethon should have featured John Lennon's anthem for fluffy nihilists:
Imagine there's no heaven It's easy if you try No hell below us Above us only sky Imagine all the people Living for today . . .
You may say he's a dreamer, but he's not. A couple of years ago, it emerged that Lennon was a very generous contributor not just to organizations that support and fund the IRA, but to the IRA itself. He could "imagine there's no countries" and "nothing to kill or die for," but until that blessed day he was quite happy to support an organization that blows up people in shopping centers and railway stations. It's heartening to know that, though he grew rich peddling illusory pap to the masses, he didn't fall for it himself
Lately, I have had little time or wit to write much here. I drive all day, and when without a passenger, I listen, with maddening frustration, to talk radio. The babbling of voices, over the hours and miles , soon coalesce into a type of dissonant antiphony to reason, a din of demented choirs chanting Cinci's demise.
And I have to turn it off. And I drive in silence and ponder the highways and the wonders each road in this country can deliver you to. And that so many have chosen blindness over vision. And in so doing, consigned their darkness over our city.
Because sometimes I just can't stand reading or hearing another frigging word, I depend on other sources to catch up and therefore I remain grateful to the talented gentlemen at Cincinnati Blog and Queen City Soapbox , for their thorough and insightful commentary on the absolutely whacked world of Cincinnati politics. They have quite admirably taken on the onerous task of monitoring all news sources , left and right, and they do the needed job of equitably gathering what is out there on a given issue, and bringing it back to the table to examine. Not an easy task given the current level of feverish histrionics that substitutes for government in this seriously embattled burg.
And 'Amen' to their assessment of Alicia Reeces' latest dramatic stage entrance. What i want is her frigging exit.
As I thought, I am now spending way too much time messing with the redesign of this site. I am making progress. Found a template I very much like and have been corresponding with the designer at Design In Reflections who, in addition to doing wonderful work, has graciously extended her patience to answer my idiotic questions about adapting the template I chose. If anyone should want to check it out, you'll find it under the category Seasons , towards the bottom of the page. Second row, the first three. Her site is pretty loaded with graphics, templates, tutorials. Definitely check it out.
I ask myself why this picture spoke to me of the feeling that dissociative is.
She is familiar. Her stance is familiar. Of waiting, of an austere dignity.
There are many women in me waiting. Waiting for their turn on stage. The necessity of their presence. The calling of their particular power. And they, like she, are naked and veiled, emerging in the dress and demeanor of the moment, like an idea taking substance as it enters thru the fabric of the material world into being. And now I have come to long for some of them. Yearn. For their scent. Their vision the world we share. And who is to say that a multi-dimensional experience of the world is not the key to .....
I know I can't stay out of the politics. I just wish I had attended college, or had a more sophisticated background, more worldly experience. I say that only in that I despair in considering all that I don't know, that I don't know. I can only decipher and sift and assimilate and judge from the knowledge base I have access to ( ample) and the dull wit that remains my beleaguered sorry self.
The issues , be they reparations or racial profiling, blah blah, are a distraction. There is, on the horizon, limned in blood red, a screaming and avaricious mien, an apparition of a hunger so visceral, powered by a hatred blind and rapacious, cloaked in ignorance worn as sainthood.. What arises in this world, goaded and abetted by fools, that so loathes mankind? What zombie spirit recruits soldiers of the damned?
Because the only issue I see worth resolving is why we are all so fucking self - destructive, from time beyond time, we have never diverted our quest away from power and control. What a frigging design flaw. Create a race of beings capable of genius, with souls of artists and architects and writers and lovers, and while you are at it, hell, fill them with such self loathing that they desecrate every gift given.
Makes no sense to me. Has to be a clue somewhere.. Myths, tales, lore, holy books, lying helter skelter all over the frigging planet, and no one , yet, has figured us out. Amazing. I guess everyone has been too distracted by their man made Gods ( all of whom,if you will note, appear to sanction mass slaughter in their respective names ) to consider perhaps that which ever "god" who might have 'made' us, arguably would have made us sufficient for the task. Not the task of warfare but just to frigging GROW UP!!
Mature as a species.
Develop other pursuits besides whoring for power.
Frigging planet. I get stuck on a planet with no off ramps. Why don't we all just collaborate, in one final unified endeavor as a species to seed other planets, and, THEN, we can give every race their own and make boundaries..... Hell, we'll use old Star Trek scripts. Anything makes more sense than what masquerades as civilization down here today.
So much better to be relieved of that drama. The cancer scare! I always seem to succumb to that. And it has always been, preceding the requisite 3 month check up, that I start detaching. A very interesting dissociative process that I utilized most of my life, never, though, able to distinguish it as a pivotal component in how I perceived, or what I perceived to be real. Now I recognize the shift, though I hesitate to embark on an explanation here. Dissociative is a term I initially resisted, when initially diagnosed, as a renders images of the "Three Faces of Eve", the classic multiple personality stereotype in everyone's psyche. I have never experienced such extremes, but degrees of detachment ( dis- association ), a continuum, if you will, is intrinsic to how I function. The subtle shades of personality that emerge and recede, as the situations arise that trigger their 'shifts', were even difficult for me to distinguish. As mentioned elsewhere, I'm intent on defining my experience, and in so doing, learning to utilize the dissociative process and my other selves to , uh, all our mutual benefit. You see, I resist categorizing " a way of being" as mentally ill, or , if not ill, being dissociative seems more viewed as an impediment than perhaps being seen as yet another way of navigating the planet. What I refer to is the essential process or the " mechanism" of dissociating. For instance, it is very useful when I can consciously beckon one of my more aggressive shades of personalities to the forefront in situations when her " verve and daring" are required. She was out the other night with the redneck bachelor party. I, being who is typing this, I, have the sense of standing aside, in the wings, as it were, while the more adept me, for the particular situation, "takes care of business". I can envision having conscious control of all of me , as opposed to having shifts being 'triggered' by external events.
So, as I 'articulate' this to myself, I will likely 'stutter' in the telling, as I it seems essential to me that I, not an external source, such as a therapist, map the territory, so to speak. Kind of like my approach to god, I trust no information about him if the source of information is man. Obviously I have little material to work with, but, its a rule I'll stick with. So, it will be tentative and deliberate AND.....
brings me to another topic, of interest to no one but me. The re-design of roadSassy, to separate content. Keep my political rants separate from the dissociative speculations and separate from the running commentary of roadSassy. roadSassy will most likely expand to more current local references of a highway nature. Tales of the road, road lore and maybe more investigation into the interesting local road lore and I'm thinking of just reporting speed traps I observe and changes in construction and conditions that may be helpful. We'll see.
The next post will expand on this -topic - of - interest- only-to- me, but hell, I'm having fun.