The Emotion of Numbers

                                                                  

                                             I like numbers. 

 

There have been many times in my life that I have taken sanctuary in them. 

They have no bias of their own. 

They exhibit no frivolity or emotion, and are not proliferous of their own accord.  

They are...Sanctuary...from the chaos that is the ebb and flow of the human mind and the human condition.

                        But they also have no heart or passion.

          It is this heart and passion that can skew their innocent truth.

   

It has always been a basic premise when interpreting statistics....to explore their inverse. 

 Little bits...and sometimes large bites ...of truth lie there in waste. 

The truth is not seeded by someone else's emotions, drive, opinions, bias, or by their cursed indoctrination. 

You may choose what you want to believe...and wrap a statistic around it for validity. 

                                           But it still may not be true.
   

 "There are lies,  there are damn lies,  and then there are statistics..."  (Samuel Clemens)

High End Skills

Your skill set. Steadily honed and molded throughout your years. A mind that has endured an evolution.  From a shapeless grey lump of clay working with bear claws and stone knives to a heaving breathing life form created by societies desires. High end skills...streaking across bright blue skies at high altitude while everyone else takes a pony ride. Capable of reaching your destination at speeds unknown to those below you. Finely tuned and efficient...you are approaching genius in your field!

But when the engines start to sputter....when the wings are shot off your plane....when your co-pilot  wants his shot at the yoke,...and you find yourself nose-diving in a flaming fireball....your skill set becomes obsolete.

    But you brought your parachute,  and land softly and on dry land.  Your mind of clay left in the kiln has hardened. Your high-end skills more useless than those stone knives and bear-claws.
     You begin to realize that your survival depends on how well you can hit a hammer.

Old Age is Wasted on the Old

• "Youth is wasted on the young".   Most of us have become familiar with this common and cliche'd adage. We understand it's sentiment.  "Oh!  If I knew then what I know now......!"

But it is not a truth. Youth ...and all of it's wonderful naivety...innocence...deserves it's time .
  Old age is wasted on the old,  if they do not appreciate their time....
I would not take a day of that wonderful youth and scourge it with the obfuscation brought and burdened with time . Or take away the wonder of new experience...the fulfillment of learning...the recklessness and passion of love.

Old age is wasted on the old...if they are envious and unsatisfied with  their arrival there.  They can relish the experience that youth can only yearn for.  Embrace this  moment.  It is yours,  and can be had by no other.

Proving Grounds

 

 Your greatest act as an American citizen might not be what you think it is.   You vote. You pay your taxes.  You obey the law. You enlisted. You served. You fought.You don't complain. You returned your shopping cart.    You are a "good"  American.
 

   But your greatest act as an American might be one of civil disobedience. Proof....solid and true...that you would stand up to tyranny ,  and that those certain unalienable rights endowed by your Creator,  are ...in fact..above the law. That many, many of your fellow citizens...jailed in the name of the law....perhaps should be free?  That a life may be ended against the laws of your Creator,  but within the laws of your American citizenry?

     So after you are done playing model citizen,  understand you have done the easy part.  Risk jailtime?  Maybe just a little?  I don't blame you for being scared. For returning to the safety and comfort of "model citizen" .   Don't give in to satanic impulses that might drive you over the edge.  Snuff the flame and quiet the burning embers with the blanket of your complacency.  Which is more American?  To ignore your God-given rights in the name of your American citizenry?  Or to invoke those rights in an act of civil disobedience....?

The Battle for Naivety

   Innocence  lost. Oh, how we should anguish in the day that the wicked curse of knowledge invaded our purity. If only we could recapture that special time. A soul unencumbered...smiling happily without the tumorous complication that erupted when the quest began.

The unquenchable thirst. The insatiable hunger.  Forced to shake hands with this evil and feel it's cold embrace. The unquestioning radiance of your innocent soul slowly dimmed by dark gray clouds. Your naivety bursting from the heavens trying to make it's way back home.

     The rest of your life will be your personal  battle for naivety. For a return to the innocence that was somehow gifted you through the light of your consciousness. It is a battle you MUST fight, and fight to win.  The alternative is all consuming relentless eternal hell.
     Learn to love your naivety. Revisit it whenever you can find it again.  It is a child lost in thickets of curs-ed knowledge, the pure radiance of his soul mired in the thorny briars.
      Knowledge obscures truths found only in the soul.

What Makes A Grown Man Cry

A grown man.  Stoic and unflinching. Confident and steadfast. Accumulated knowledge...experience..wisdom.   Able to anticipate and prepare for almost any circumstance. Blocking and channeling the chemistry that might lead to a tear's production. Guiding the torrents of would-be anguish to his reservoir of strength.

Silvering hairs proof that his crying days are over. Childhood days when he ran to his mother over a simple skinned knee. The pain he felt taken away by her loving embrace.  Skinned knees are nothing now. Deep wounds and battle scars he can handle on his own.  A testament to his acquired mental strength.  He is a man now.

  But what can make a grown man cry...are the days he must watch his mother die.

A child again, as his mother, frail and weakened,  reaches for his silver covered head and consoles him once again with her undying love.  Salted tears breaking the levies,  and he is a boy again in the arms of his mother....

The Wrong Guy, by chance?

Helplessly searching for solace ,  and acting on a whirlwind of emotion...we sometimes desperately seek out  "someone to blame".  Injustices. Tragedies. Murder...Death....Sickness...Accidents.  Quick to malign anyone within vengeance's reach,  to quiet the burning rage or deepening sadness. We are always looking for someone to condemn....

We all know that it is a murderer who is to blame for his unthinkable deed.   We can't find him.  But dammit!  SOMEONE must be held accountable!                                         The guy whose gun was stolen. The clerk at the Walmart. The nurse who didn't perform cpr. The ambulance driver who got there in 9 minutes instead of 6. The owner of the parking lot with inadequate lighting. The sleeping security guard. The manufacturer of the R.I P. bullet.  The 911 operator. The cops who can't find the guy. The system that let him out on parole.

You've got the Wrong Guy!

In these these seemingly unfair, unjust, painful circumstances...remember the bad guy!
There is a perpetrator....and it is not "everyone I can get my hands on"....
There are circumstances of Fate...Accident...and Life,  where there was no malice. Sometimes the only thing you are a victim of,  ....is Chance.

It's time to stop blaming the Wrong Guy.....

Put Up Your Dukes

 Shocking insolence.  Degrading insults. Boisterous belligerence. Insulting innuendo. Exploited fear.  Defamatory tones. Dishonored beliefs. Threats to your way of life. Duty, Honor, Country.
      Your culture.  Who you are. What you believe. Your family.Your marriage. Your friends. The innocence of your children. Your future.  Validation of your past. Defense of your race. Disgraced religion. Oppression. Repressed power.  Life, Liberty, Happiness.  Brotherhood of man. Demasculization. Scorn and jealousy.  Virtuous vanity. Temporary insanity. Anger and rage. Greed. Lust . Hate.  Cohesiveness. Order. Society. Civilization. Love. ......Disease.
     Dammit man! Put up your dukes....and fight!  Raw and instinctive emotion jolting you into action. Unknown justifications with known virtue. Ending in battle wounds ...pain ....or ultimate death .  Hopeful of victory.   Sanctified causes blinding the mere notion of defeat...
      " You never really know what you are fighting for...until you lose...".  Ernest Hemingway

Finding It Hard to Apologize

Probably the biggest reason people don't say "I'm sorry".....is because they are NOT.    You can wait around for your deserved apology,  or imagine that "they ARE sorry,  but it is just too difficult for them to voice that sentiment."  Deep....deep down inside,  it is probably their pride (you conjecture).... that keeps them from uttering those emotional and empathetic words .....those words that will evoke true forgiveness....cage animosity ...and prove love and humility.  But you never hear them say it.
But the truth is that the biggest reason people don't say "I'm sorry"......is because they're not!

Who are they?

       Almost daily, I hear how they have messed things up.  How "they" aren't doing enough. How stupid "they " are.    How "they" have spent way too much money!  How "they" have regulated too much" . How "they" have regulated too little.  How "they" won't give us a home, a life, a chance, or universal healthcare.  How "they" have corrupted the system. How "they" only care about the money. How "they" lack the morals we all hold dear.  How "they" have no regard for the little guy and cater to the rich. How "they" gave us a ticket we didn't deserve.
       We have summarily relinquished ourselves from blame.  We have relieved our common conscience by creating a common evil entity for which to blame our sins.
       "They".... are us.   "They"... are a mirrors reflection....that through some strange cerebral ocular regeneration,   sees absolutely nothing. It can't be me.  It must be them.
      We are supposed to be running the show!   Why then,   are we not blaming the current state of affairs on ourselves?  Why have we created an unknown entity for which we can assign blame?
  

   We have lost our way. Values of liberty and freedom have been replaced by security and greed...not just on Wall Street,  but in each of our personal lives. Being the richest country in the world is not what makes us the greatest nation in the world. Our wealth will always be in the values of freedom and liberty that set off an explosion in our human soul. Our own little-big bang

What to Love About a Lie

     It's easy to hold  liars in contemptful disdain.  The utter insult of their deceptions!  The slithering sickness of their sly manipulations.  Rape of trust.  Corrosion of faith in humanity.    Selfish motivations that can have you questioning every utterance.
 The mental chaos that ensues.
Who to trust and when.
Why the lie and to what end?
 Causing you to look elsewhere for truth....in facial expressions ....body movements...quirks, girations and gestures...minor inconsistencies ...reading tea leaves of their phanteron,... attempting to understand the crazy, seemingly useless motivations  for it.  Secretly inspired  and personally justified. 
Why oh why!? ...when the truth is so easy!  Pray you say nothing!..., and not sully the precious innocent truth!

But then the masterful liar weaves a little truth into the lie ...hiding in the billow of smoke created when garbage thrown on the flames of truth smolder.
   
I hate the lie.  Sometimes hate the liar.  But was taught to hate the sin,... not the sinner.
Had to find some way to offer redemption.  Something to save it's author from the dismay and contempt it brings.  Let me tell you....there's not much!     But it starts with a cognizance.

 Born of a conscience unwed to truth...the lie is a bastard roaming barren plains in search of food for sustenance.  There is a subtle,..yet useful power that comes while watching....studying...the liar and manipulator when you know they are  lying. The tables are turned....and whatever  they hoped to glean from their hapless excursion....only reveals more of the truth!

This is what to love about a lie:
The revelatory  exposure of truth in it's discovery.  The artful architecture no longer a tangled web,  ...but crude and basic sticks and mud built into a hollow shell.  Sometimes, now ...I can almost smile....as the liar unwittingly keeps revealing more of the truth...

Justified Injustices

The icons of our lives. Those we choose to make heroes.  Those we choose to condemn. Patriots....or traitors?   Their deeds selfish..or benevolent?    Jeering crowds impassioned ...thumbs pointed decidedly downward as good men are fed to the lions.

  Better him, than me.
We must have needed a king,  more than a hero.  Deifying the powerful while villifying the weak.  Edward Snowden .....hero, or zero?  As long as the justified injustices of your government and the NSA  keep you wallowing in ignorant bliss.....he will remain a zero.

Unnapproachable

What is the easiest way to avoid being approached?
 
Become UNAPPROACHABLE!!!
 
This is a technique employed,  sometimes consciously...sometimes subconsciously....by managers, teachers, and others who are often bombarded by the needs of the masses under their supervision.

 It involves making an interaction so unpleasant,  that their subordinates refrain from any interaction at all.  Sometimes the reason is that their workload has become so cumbersome, that they do not have time to deal with one-on-one situations,  and any concept of a mutuality of respect is thrown out the window.  Their jobs become easier, by being a total jerk to those who would look to them for support or advice.  With this learned behavior,  they no longer have to deal with the utter frivolity of human interaction in the workplace.  Their jobs have become so much easier with this simple detachment from human dignity.
And I have seen this turned around.   An employee ....or student....can make an interaction with their leadership so unpleasant...that the authoritive figure may hesitate to approach their subordinate with necessary information or advice.

This lack of mutual respect in the workplace or classroom, or in many other human interactions....has become an instinctive behavioral assimilation as  leadership becomes bent on productivity and chasing the numbers.  Skills that were once revered as vital for positive reinforcement leading to higher morale and thus increased productivity, are now seen as inefficient, cumbersome, overwhelming and unnecessary.   Are they? Is the best way from "a" to "b",   to slice through your humanity?  Or will this backfire in the long run?  

Insidious Incubation

Seldom seen,  but hideous....the  serpently insidious...wrapping tentacles around your spine and controlling you.   Lurking evil.  You ....the leeches host. Virus slowly thriving, winning battles against your soul.
     What demons have you unwittingly allowed inside?   Now fed and fueled by blindness or ignorance,  ....denial and aloofedness.   Incubation  ...gestation...birth.   Your own little miracle.   Flourishing as you wallow in ignorance.   Embracing  wasted time .  Changing you   in order to preserve itself.
       Suddenly ....you may find yourself battling tumorous complication.  Your strangled soul's death imminent....or occurring.  Perhaps changed forever or gone.
        Unseen and yet so hideous......these things that are insidious....patient and persistent, using our daydreams to produce nightmares!  
         "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men!?....hmm? HaHaHaHaHa Ha ha haaaaaa!...The Shadow knows!....HaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaaaaaaa!"
         

Fly Me to the Moon

    

Hurry!!   Fly me to the moon....before China gets there!!  As our space endeavours wane in the name of rescuing the economy,  China moves steadily forward towards it's goal of conquering the moon.  It seems that we have attached little value to this vital component in the existence of life on earth. We planted a flag, collected some rocks, played some golf,  caroused around in a mooncruiser, and bounced around like some slow motion kangaroos.  Then we went home.
      We, the U.S.,  must revisit and reclaim the moon as our own.  The 'governing' of it simply cannot be trusted to communistic or insidiously self-serving tyranistic regimes or dictatorships.

It cannot belong to U.N.,  NATO,  Donald Trump, Bill Gates, Coca-Cola or Oprah Winfrey. The time has come for the moon to become official territory of the UNITED STATES of AMERICA.  The consequences of allowing it to be exploited or manipulated by forces with selfish concern are becoming eerily closer to reality.  Explore the consequences!

The contemptuous burp....

I was just wondering if anyone else has experienced this expression of machismo .  I have seen it now many times, and I am still trying to understand what it means.  A male counterpart will cross my path on occasion, and find the need to communicate a burp. There is no way that this spontaneous emission of gastric fumes could happen with such regularity. Upon every entrance into a room....or every time paths are crossed...a necessary thumping of the chest whittled down into a seemingly harmless...yet insidiously contemptuous....BURP!     I can't help but wonder what spawns this uncanny show of machismo from some personalities.  Has anyone else noticed this behavior from some?  The contemptuous burp!   It's a real thing!

Dumpster Diving at Winn-Dixie

   

     Have they found it in a dumpster?  Illicit freedom?  We can finally have it, for the price of conscience.  And what would help relieve the curse of conscience? Well, a huge can of Schlitz and a fifth of vodka for starters. Then , forgetting the "Jones-es".....
          In empathy, do I feel their sorrow....as they rummage through the dumpster to satisfy their hunger for the day?  Or do I feel their elation, as their hunger for a social acceptance has gone away?
 

       Winn-Dixie.  My favorite place to hate...right behind Walmart. Still...I shop there sometimes.   Wore their curs-ed chains when I worked there long ago.  Never thought I would see freedom in their dumpster.

Free Cockroaches

     The digital age. Computers, cellphones, the internet, television, I-pads, androids, gps, live video cams.   Instant coverage in real time, available  to the  masses.  Shining a light on the cockroaches of the planet, whose dark age mentalities have been exposed. Rape, murder, oppression...in the name of religion...for God or for Allah.

      We have shined a light on the cockroaches of the planet. In nations ruled by dictators, they were the most free. Free to take what was not offered from their own, through threats, coercion and intimidation. That is a manner akin to rape.  Free to use their own women for personal gratification. Free to contort religion for personal benefit. Free to indoctrinate their children to hate and evil. Free to brainwash and force lies and propaganda.  Free to arm and  kill in the name of God. Free to roam their countries in wild packs and murder eachother. Free to concoct evil plans against any person or entity that might encroach on their evil desires.
       But now the world knows. They are no longer able to keep their people in the dark. The world has come to them.
        The internet and the digital age has shined a light on the free cockroaches of the world.  Watch them scatter, as they look for new dark places to hide.