Never Argue With a Fool
Never argue with a fool– because the on lookers cannot tell the differenceAn argumentative fool sharing with me what he learned about how others judge you by the people with whom you associate.
Never argue with a fool– because the on lookers cannot tell the differenceAn argumentative fool sharing with me what he learned about how others judge you by the people with whom you associate.
This Christmas movie classic originally featured a 7 second cameo by Donald Trump, who gives McCaulley Culkin directions, long before Trump thought of running for president. The movie powers that be in Canada had trimmed seconds here and there from this movie and other movies to keep them under 2 hours. Around 2014, that 7 second cameo was cut, along with other snippets that (I guess) were not essential for the plot. Immediately Trump launched into what I call his refrain–I’m amazing, they hate me for being me, they tried to get me, look what they did, yet they failed to take me down because I am amazing. The President heard that his cameo had been cut by Canadian film people (forgive my ignorance, I am not Googling the name bc it’s not essential to my point and I want to dash this post off). He accused the Canadian Prime Minister of cutting him out of the film in retaliation for some difference of opinion. The Canadian Prime Minister was not in office in 2014 and I think he has as much involvement with films as the American president. In other words he had nothing to do with the decision. The news pointed out Trump’s mistakes, as they always do. I don’t know if Trump is more often wrong than everyone who came before him or this is the media coverage. I do take Trump’s statements about fake news seriously because he has been well situated for a long time to know the truth about the media.
It is true that people are more appealing to others after they admit they have made mistakes. But I have noticed that if a woman is on television and she is very beautiful, like the Colombian actress on Modern Family, she always has to look ridiculous in some other way. In that case the character has an annoying voice and a tendency to make simple mistakes, dumb blond style. Suzanne Sommers did dumb blonde on Three’s Company. Even the classic show The Golden Girls, often had characters comment on the wideness of the sexy character’s derriere. I was watching a story about Jessica Alba and the report began with “why we hate Jessica Alba,” since she has so much going for her they were “feigning” jealousy. Sure I find Trump ridiculous for his self-involvement and that he says “I” more than other presidents, but I did not notice how I myself accepted him saying he was awesome. No one ever got down on Muhammed Ali when he did his I’m so Pretty repartee with Howard Cosell, the sportscaster. Can you imagine a woman crowing about how great she is? I would have to imagine it because there are no examples of a female public figure ever behaving like that. What if a woman made all the accusations, unfounded and others, that Trump has made. She might be institutionalized, like thousands of other women who are presently locked up against their wills and have been throughout the 20th century when men deemed their behavior “crazy.” If she wasn’t called crazy, that hyper aggressive woman might be branded as a witch. Unless she has some glaring defect that can comfort society with the assurance that a woman can only be so good.
Not really. But people want to be viewed as helpful, without the awkwardness of dealing with someone who is really hurting. We are uncomfortable with emotional outbursts in American culture, and when intense emotions are associated with death, why, we Americans want to head for the hills. How many times have you heard someone say “It is the first time I saw [insert name] cry?” When this is said no one is remarking on the newfound openness and sense of intimacy they felt over a shared loss. They are always relaying their horror and deep discomfort that someone they counted on not to show raw emotion was doing precisely that. Ever noticed?
That’s one of the mourning associated phrases I am pondering, the first time I saw so-and-so cry, along with the infamous “if there is anything I can do for you, let me know.” I hate that. People know good and well that no one is going to slide out on that limb and ask for help on top of suffering through grief. It is especially obvious that the person does not want to help because they never offered “anything” before, and they simply could have shown up with “anything” in tow, rather than make a grieving person do all the work of seeking comfort.
Don’t I sound like I am speaking from embittering experience? I am not. I am speaking out of jealousy, and this is why: I was never offered the “anything” that I complain about. I have seen people who received consolation. They seemed so much better off than me. I used to hate them unabashedly. Now I tell myself everyone has their own path and mine is different. Do you think it worked? I’ve had many chances to work on my self-soothing. It is almost the third anniversary of my friend’s death and no one acknowledged me as important in his life. They followed his public lead. Mine too. Our relationship was behind closed doors. Neither of us had any other friends besides each other. When he was speaking to me and not affirming his homosexuality by shutting me out, we had so much fun, and lots of sexual adventures which I will share in a sanitized way, later. Behind closed doors is where I felt all my joy, and that’s the obstacle between me and the rest of the world. A closed door.
But on the bright side, I did know happiness. I can even prove it. I will give you a one minute and 14 second YouTube Link that shows us having fun. I was happy once. Is it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. I don’t have any family, never did, and although I haven’t experienced a loss in this area because there was no one to lose, it doesn’t feel good. Pain is pain. I don’t mind showing you the video because as I told you before no one I know reads my blog or encourages me so I need not worry about revealing my identity. Only strangers will see the video.
I’d like your opinion on something. My friend, who I loved, had a mean streak. Someone said his verbal abusiveness was obvious because although we spend that whole minute laughing, he does nothing but put me down. I never saw it until someone said something. Tell me what you think, if you care to. To be really honest, I could use the company in a lonely time, even though you guys are wherever you are and we will never meet. Something beats nothing, every day of the week, and twice on Sunday!
Potluck meals are a staple of Hawaiian culture. The shared meal made up of different dishes provided by the individual members for consumption by all bonds the group family style. It is not necessary for everyone to contribute and no one keeps track of who brought a dish and who did not. You do not have to bring food in order to eat. If an unexpected person turns up, that person is welcome to eat too. Usually people will insist that she join the group. Local people believe it is very bad luck to argue where food is being prepared, set out, or eaten because the spirit of dissension can go into the food and spread to the people sharing the meal.
I went to a game room in search of a story for this blog, although I do not remember exactly where it was. The same people were there playing electronic machines that remind me of unsophisticated 1980’s Atari video games. At the side of the room was a long table with pots of food, plates, forks, knives–a Christmas Potluck. At the game room! Every now and then Honolulu Police decide to raid the game rooms and shut them down, and after a few weeks or months they reappear in the same spot of a different spot. There are violent incidents because tens of thousands of dollars are gambled on a daily basis and people want to get their hands on that money by hook or by crook. If something goes down, the game rooms get shut down. The game room I visited only just started functioning this month. I don’t know if something bad happened there, but if it did, it happened when there wasn’t food being served because fighting in the vicinity of a meal is simply not done. Today, the gamblers and the staff members I was told did the cooking, were family.
I could have asked to eat if I wanted to and they would not have denied me. I did not want to stay long because people want you to spend money in their establishment and gambling is not my thing. I do not gamble because unlike when I was young, I now know I too could get addicted to the most uninteresting, unappealing practice, in a dingy setting where desperate people linger hoping to rob you. In my youth I would not have worried about my vulnerability because I thought I was invulnerable. I have spent most of my adult life doing things I did not even know existed in the world and had I known I would have denied any desire to participate. “Me? No way. Never.” That’s what I would have said about gambling. Now I side with the people in the 12 step meetings who talk about how you haven’t done something yet, but you might because yet stands for “You’re Eligible Too.” I avoid gambling and game-rooms because they suck a lot of people in, and it is the only addiction I have seen that is more expensive than crack. To be polite I put a $20 in the machine, and in less than a minute of pressing the button trying to shoot the electronic fish swimming on the screen, my turn was over and my money was gone. I did not try again. I imagine if I had won I might have been in trouble and decided to come back to do it again. I can say this, losing is not addictive!
Mean Words From a Nice Trick and Why I Kept Seeing Him–follow the link to see the original article about a trick who was so nice which I liked until I found out why I appealed to him. Hint: He was no longer interested in this, so the fact that I was not this made me perfect. What is “this”?
A Reader Named True George said: sounds like the guy was rationalizing attempting to hide how he really feels. For example if a hungry person asked for food and is told that there isn’t anymore. That hungry person may say “It’s OK I wasn’t hungry anyway”
The story about coming to see garbage tells me that he really feels you have some value that he doesn’t want to throw away. The remark about just because he listens doesn’t mean he cares; he is listening because he does care. He helped you out with the predicament, doing something he didn’t have to do; while shrugging it off as a minor detail knowing how important it was to you.
I guess he want to remind himself that the relationship can’t be anything other then client-provider and didn’t want you to feel otherwise….
Harvard XHooker Life Hacks, the world’s newest everyday wisdom from the world’s oldest profession that is appropriate for most audiences so you need not hide the screen when a co-worker walks by because this is not porn! Follow this link to get tried and true instructions for getting the most die hard thief gladly return your money to you: https://expertescort2018.com/2019/12/24/how-to-get-your-money-back-from-a-thief/
You have more to worry about from the people you know than the strangers you are always trying to protect yourself against. It is the people you know, friends, neighbors, acquaintances, these people you regard as familiars that are most likely to assault you, rape you, and rob you. In this age of widespread communication and travel people usually don’t leave their zip code to commit crimes. Hawaii has one of the lowest rates of gun violence and the highest rate of property crime. In other words, if you live here, it is unlikely that you will be shot but you will most certainly have something stolen from you. The thieves are probably addicted to “ice,” or crystal meth, which has always been epidemic over here, although not quite as bad as the opioid epidemic appears to be on the mainland. One way we are like the mainland in our societal addiction is that you probably know a user that you don’t know is an undercover user. Contrary to popular opinion, it is possible to use addictive drugs recreationally, and there are non-addicts who use addictive drugs. I was as surprised to see the large number of professional men among my dates as I was to also notice that many of these professionals were drug users. Sometimes they maintain home and job, and they remain recreational users.
Not every user avoids becoming an addict. When people you think you know go down the predictable path from user to addict they are just as desperate as the homeless you see on the street who you think exist in another universe. Separate and apart from you and your world. As hard as it is to believe, your world overlaps and intersects with the homeless at many different points with many different people. People become homeless and desperate before others are fully aware of their change in status. It is a fact that desperate people do desperate things and that is how you find yourself vulnerable to drug addicted thieves without even knowing the risk. It is an awful shock when someone you trust steals from you, but I discovered a way to get money back from even the most treacherous of low lifes. I have never found any other way to get thieves to voluntarily turn over their loot and I want you to know what I have learned the hard way, dear readers.
I am talking about white lies. I don’t get caught up in what “counts” as a lie or what is a lie but is excusable so you need not consider yourself a liar. The fact is, life is a street fight, and all is fair in a street fight. Anything goes to defend yourself and sometimes to get through life you have to lie. The lie you must tell the thief, as soon as you notice your stuff is gone, is that you do not think the person is a thief. Never let a low life know you think he is a low life, even if you do. Most thefts are crimes of opportunity. The thief sees something and makes the grab. They are not usually prepared emotionally and are shaken by what they have done. This shakiness is not always guilt. It might just be fear of getting caught. You caught them, but if you give them a way out, in their despair they take it if they can tell themselves that you don’t think they are thieves and liars. Thieves and liars never want to be called thieves and liars and react with a great deal of hostility if you angrily confront them with the truth. In order to comfort a liar, you must lie, and when you lie, you will enable the liar to lie to himself–only then will you get to the truth that the person took something, you know it, and you want it back. Here’s your script:
Are you like me? I am always gathering everything together and tossing a bunch of stuff in my bag without knowing what I have. I just grabbed someone’s money by accident. Do you think maybe you did the same thing..? I do it all the timeMy standard line when I see my money is missing and the guest is trying to figure out my complicated front door lock but finds himself stuck. Seems transparent, doesn’t it? Overly simplistic? Couldn’t possibly work? This strategy works like a charm.
I have always wondered why people do not maintain the front of ignorance. It would be simple to do so, especially since my strategy requires that I not accuse the thief. Yet there is something within everyone who I have caught stealing from me that does not allow them to maintain the lie. Maybe they are just being practical. As I write this blog I had the realization that the strategy only works on someone who I know stole from me. If I don’t know the identity of the responsible party, I have never seen anyone volunteer information I didn’t already have.
I could have been arrested but I wasn’t because I followed the advice of the veteran working girl who spent 40 minutes with me telling me how to be careful.
It was somewhere around 2003. When I was using the days ran together until months and a couple of years went buy without me really noticing. Truth be told, I liked the formlessness of my days after the regimented life of school and work I had lived all of my childhood and in the very beginning of my adulthood. I felt free, like I had nowhere to be, nothing to do, but the truth is I was a slave to the drug that kept me on a hamster wheel while my experience was that of freedom. I was finding tricks-taking money for sexual favors-copping dope-finding another addict with a hole in the wall–getting high–running out–freaking out–race walking back to the stroll–finding tricks…there was never any past or future, I was always at some point in this sequence as if I stood outside the normal passage of time during which change occurs. Because nothing changed. I was still young and beautiful then and thought I always would be, like every young and beautiful woman whose face and body gravity has yet to discover. I was responsible for me and my habit and I was having fun.
It was the middle of the day, and I “caught a date” as we said in under 50 seconds. I know because I liked to time how long it took for someone to screech to a halt and affirm for me that I was desirable. This guy did that for me when he pulled over and I liked him for it. But I didn’t like him enough to violate the rule the old hooker had taught me–say nothing. She probably wasn’t really old. She was dying of AIDS and I bet she just looked old but never had the chance to reach the age I am now as I write this. Anyway, I sat quietly in the passenger seat and the driver drove without a word. I looked out the window at the passenger’s side rearview mirror and I saw what I knew I would see eventually, two cars following us. The first was on our bumper the second was right on the bumper of the car immediately behind us. We all turned together, close enough to be boxcars on a train. There were a number of parking lots we girls took our dates to because they didn’t have security. My guy pulled into a lot that had security. Just so happened to be the four story parking structure serving as the residence of my dear late friend, the medic in Vietnam. It did not escape my notice that the guy did not ask where I wanted to go or if this place was ok. I mean, he was stone cold silent, and no one is ever like that. So I knew.
Get on the ground! Now! Now!Two plainclothes undercover officers instructing me to exit the vehicle without assistance
They didn’t put their hands on me but let me climb out of the SUV type of vehicle by myself. I was grateful for that courtesy. I did not want to join the ranks of black people who had been mistreated by police. I liked to be indignant from the comfortable distance of dealing with other people’s issues. Instantly the the driver was gone, he was just out of there so fast I barely saw him peel out. I barely got a look at him or the car, before I was left alone sitting on the parking lot ground with the two men looming over me. I never notice what people look like, to the point that it is almost like I don’t see them because I can’t remember a thing about what they look like but I remember what they said.
What are you doing jumping in and out of cars with men you don’t know? What do you think that looks like?The question of the indignant police officer who seemed to genuinely dislike what I was doing, and me for doing it
I was inspired. I had nothing rehearsed. I was afraid every single date, and I did 3-5 a day every day, every single date I was afraid of getting arrested. Yet I never rehearsed what I would do. Probably because I had never been arrested before so I had no way to imagine how things would go. I think my inspiration was due to the fact that they attacked me in my area of strength–I was a smooth talker and a quick talker. I had the situation well in hand.
I am from the Big Island. We hitchhike all the time over there. That’s just what we do.Yes I had lived a few months on the second most populous island in the state of Hawaii which is not very populous at all. Yes The Big Island is very rural and hitchhiking is such a way of life that people will automatically pull over when they see someone obviously out of place (like a young black woman) and cheerfully offer a ride that the walker cheerfully accepts. No, I was not hitchhiking in Honolulu.
The officers had jumped the gun. There was no way to know what I was thinking, especially since everything I chose to share was true. No talking meant no agreement to exchange a specific sex act for a specific thing of value. I was glad they weren’t the type of officers who were going to arrest anyone who fell into their trap because they could have arrested me and their story would be taken as gospel truth by everyone that matters. But I must have been right in my perception that these guys were really law and order types. They let me go. What else could honest cops do?
I scampered off, delighted to be near my medic friend so I could share the incredible story. I was still having fun. My dangerously warped view of reality was reinforced. I don’t know about the Law of Attraction, because they say perception is reality but my perception was not reality. I didn’t know it then because I did not need to know.
There was no better high, without drugs, than the high of getting away with something when I was totally guilty. That feeling of running away, scott free, made me even more manic inside my mind than usual. My thoughts were happily tumbling all over each other, is the best way I can describe my state of mind, and I had a physical feeling of …lightness, I guess I’d say, in my chest. I did not get off on taking the risk. It is no fun thinking I might get caught. But it was a whole hell of a lot of fun to enjoy undeserved freedom. Well, undeserved freedom was only a temporary state of being, as I would find out soon enough.
You can mske talking to the beloved addict in your life worthwhile instead of a pure source of pain. She won’t listen to reason, she doesn’t seem to care about your feelings. What you need to know is that she does hear you and she does care about your feelings. She will remember that you love her even when she’s caught in a mental obsession that won’t leave her in peace.
1. Determine acceptable Conversation Topics
Let her know the conditions you will accept for her to contact you. For example, she can’t call for money but she can call to let you know she’s ok.
No matter what, do not deviate from your terms. NO. MATTER. WHAT. If she knows you’ll cave with enough pestering she will indeed pester you relentlessly, and she really won’t hear your kind words as she puts her all into manipulating you. Btw, don’t give her money for food or buy her groceries. Even these can be bartered. You can eat with her to make sure she eats but she can’t walk away with anything intact and trade-able.
2. Be Honest About your feelings of shame but love her enough not to shun her
Always reassure her that although it’s impossible not to feel shame in a society that shames addicts and their families, you will rise above that fear and you will never reject her. Reassure her you will be seen with her in public, although she may avoid you so as not to be a source of shame for you because seeing you suffer just compounds how bad she feels. Seeing you suffer does not quiet the relentless obsession that simply won’t stop.
3. Don’t ask why. She doesn’t know why. No one knows why, not even the best scientists.
Don’t ask why she doesn’t quit if she feels so bad for you. You already know disaster is no deterrent. Look what she’s done to herself. Asking why is a waste of time and will lead to tears, yelling, and the hopeless repitition of of the same words that have been said to no avail.
4. Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.
If it will upset you to know how she gets her money, don’t ask. In fact, if she doesn’t volunteer specifics about her life, don’t ask. She will probably lie to you if she’s not proud of herself, and she wont be proud of herself. If you decide you can handle the truth without scolding her, then listen without offering an opinion. Stay away from adjectives. She’s doing what she needs to do to get drugs. She does not think she’s on the path to success. She is not confused. Therefore her behavior won’t respond to logic.
5. Remember, she really does hear you.
What you most need to remember about talking to the addict you love is the love she has for you is still inside of her. The words you say go to the heart that’s buried under the addiction. She hears you, although she seems not to. She hears you and what you ssy matters to her in spite of all evidence to the contrary. She remembers your conversations. And when she needs to use the memories of your words spoken in love, she will unlock that part of herself where her love for you lives and flourishes. It may be a long time from now, maybe years, and maybe you’ll never have the chance to see the impact, but have faith that you are making an unseen difference.
Different working girls walked the streets of Waikiki compared to downtown Honolulu. The characteristics of both groups of women are fascinating and I believe you will find the comparison enlightening. The main similarity is that both types of women give up all of their money. Different masters ruled them. You won’t see many women on the street at all anymore but about 10 years ago, the street sex trade was on and popping and this is what you’d see:
What a difference two miles makes! Waikiki’s main shopping drag, Kalakaua Avenue, is in the top ten of money making retail streets in the world. Tourists always go there, then venture outwards. Downtown is shocking for its poverty and in-your-face homelessness. Nowadays homelessness is in your face everywhere on Oahu, but I think the tourist officials do their best to keep it out of Waikiki. Downtown, you can stumble upon people shooting up (ice, heroin, or a combo) and smoking crack right out in public. The users may or may not turn their backs to passers-by. Drugs are more easily available downtown although they are most certainly present in Waikiki, but the dealers are in apartments or hotels and not as much on the street. Prostitution downtown is a major funding source for the illegal drug trade. The girls are addicted in town. That was not usually the case in Waikiki when street prostitution was a visible presence. Waikiki tricks and providers were transient and moneyed and also includes pimps. Downtown was for the locals. These were the people who formed the community of providers and tricks and the regulars who all knew each other.
Guys, you paid the woman money for her time and you want all the time you have got coming to you. I am going to tell you one way providers spend time that some of you might enjoy, but some of you might find to be a waste of time. With the information below you will know better what is happening during your session so you can decide how you want to proceed.
I have written that women do not become sex workers for the sex. She might get lucky and meet good people to enjoy, but for the most part, providers try to avoid sex. Specifically, many providers do not want to be touched. Way too intrusive. Providing a sensual shower is a great tactic that’s a potential win-win even though it may be a bit of a rip off. A win for the woman because she is in control. S win for the guy who enjoys the shower no matter what motivates the provider. But if you’re a guy who is simply waiting for the shower to end, here’s what you do.
In the beginning of the rendezvous, some providers offer the option of showering alone or with her assistance. She washes him and maintains control over the touching. There’s no sex in the shower and less time for sex after. The men usually enjoy the shower and either don’t know it’s an intimacy avoidant maneuver, or they don’t care. However, if you’re a guy who thinks too much of your allotted time is spent in the shower, you may be right. Politely ask to skip or reduce the shower time and you’ll be accommodated. One benefit of the shower a guy may not consider is that a guy can feel more confident when he knows he is not all sweaty. A confident guy performs better. A guy’s best bet: a quick but thorough full body soaping. Of course, its a guy’s prerogative to shower or not. Since the guy has the power, physically, one on one with a woman, be gracious about what you want. You’re more likely to get her approval if you play nicely.
I know how it feels to be part of a threesome. I think you want to know what it was like so I am going to tell you, if you are interested.Tweet
For a long time I suffered through activities that I had heard I was supposed to enjoy. Ironically, many of the things that I didn’t want to do involved standing in lines and waiting (another thing I hate) in order to do them. Roller coasters. Night Clubs. Black Friday Sales. Horror Movies. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize that I don’t have to do these things, much less stand in line so I could join a bunch of other people I don’t know in order to do something I can’t wait to end. I don’t like feeling physically uncomfortable, which for me includes free fall. I am not afraid of heights but I don’t want to descend rapidly from a high point, like on a roller coaster, or a sky diving or bungee jumping. Thankfully, I never had to endure jumping out of a plane. I don’t like being excessively hot or cold, which seems to always be the case when I have to stand in line for a long time. It is very hard for me to be still for any length of time beyond a few minutes anyway. I am glad I learned about myself before I started doing threesomes with that couple.
If you have read my previous posts you know that the only reason I did the threesomes in the first place was because I wanted to have a titillating story to tell the man I was in love with because he was mostly (but not entirely) gay and he had a crush on the guy half of the threesome couple. I did not have a crush on Joe, and the girlfriend Josie, she had no real interest in a threesome beyond attempting to keep an eye on what Joe was doing with other women. Joe wanted to do threesomes for the usual guy reason–sex with a new woman. Not one of the three of us had any interest in the three of us as a group, which made for an awkward situation. The encounter consisted of the two of us taking turns interacting with him, while the other woman uncomfortably looked away.
And what was worse was my friend, who said he wanted to hear stories about me and that guy, didn’t want to hear stories at all. He discovered that he was jealous of what I was doing without him. You might think this is wishful thinking on my part that maybe he wanted to be with the guy, but we answered a lot of ads on internet sites looking for a second guy and Ken, my friend, thought he would like to watch, but in actual practice he would leave the room and he never wanted to hear any of the stories I had to tell him. Then Ken had a heart attack. Fifty years old, and gone. I was devastated, of course. The threesome couple were much less devastated. In fact, they wanted to continue as usual because he was getting the sex and she was getting the supervision. But the way it felt was awkward and uncomfortable and all I was doing was waiting for it to be over while I was waiting for my turn with the guy. It was like waiting in a long line to suffer through a roller coaster with people I really didn’t want to be with all over again.
I never would have thought they would get back at me in the incredibly vicious way that they did. When I spoke to the police about what they did I was told that their actions were actually quite common in these situations and I got a whole new view of how low people can sink. It was primarily the guy who couldn’t let it go and was determined to get to me one way or another. All because I said no to sex. I’ll tell you more about the worst experience of my life soon.
A California church is praying for the resurrection of one of it’s youngest members after the toddlers unexplained sudden death this week. I understand their logic. The Bible presents the example if the resurrection of Jesus and Lazarus. There you have it, 2 precedents. The Bible also tells us that we will do “greater works” than Jesus through our applied faith. No, I can’t give you a how-to guide on achieving said greater works.
To be A Christian One Must Believe Jesus is Divine, Not Just A Really Good Guy
I have read that many people gladly attribute spiritual goodness to Jesus, a man who talked about a lot of good stuff that they support. Live one another and the related teachings are in line with who they want to become. Most of these semi-believers can’t say they have definitive faith in his divinity. Thus, they aren’t Christians bc the Crux of the religion is defeating death, death being the wages of sin that we’ve all earned. Jesus paid our price. Then the penalty for the wages if sin, once paid, was eradicated by the resurrection (I hope I’m missing details bc as I reread my writing, the whole story sounds impossible.)
Kind of like my $130 jaywalking ticket. If someone paid it for me the I’d be off the hook, yet the penalty would be satisfied. As long as someone pays the ticket the state if Hawaii is happy. Any volunteers? I didn’t think so. Churches acknowledge that we don’t understand what Catholics call “mysteries” or why things are the way they are. We don’t know why Jesus’ death satisfies my spiritual debt just like a check from Jesus would pay the jaywalking fine (if only!). I suppose if we follow the illustration to its logical end, the money would e returned and no one would ever be charged again
We are to accept what’s held to be true, even if we can’t know why. Does the term “mystery” attempt to cover a weak point in the legend? I don’t know. But I do know that true believers accept everything. Hey, I accept the truth of gravity and that’s mostly a mystery to me, so my understanding is not necessary to keep the world turning.
There are semi believers who kind of believe in our government. Once, we had faith. We could be shocked, scandals held our attention. Does it seem odd to anyone that a story like this should be featured on this important day in history. I think I know why the impeachment is headlining but not monopolizing the news. No one cares about the impeachment to the exclusion of all else. When the debacle went down with President Clinton, his impeachment did monopolize the news and every channel. In the end it was anti-climactic.
“Our president was impeached? Now what?”
We waited for some major consequence to come down the pike. As a member of society, recounting history for the youth, I would have to interpret the general mood as confused and irritated ultimately turning to indifference. To many, myself included, the Clinton situation was mine of the public’s business. Those issues were for the couple to work out. We were brought in on a bunch of foolishness which seemed more like personal attacks than concern for me and my fellow citizens. My beloved late friend, who’d been a medic in the Vietnam War said:
If the President of the greatest country in the world, the country I saw a lot of guys die for, if he can’t get no p****, ain’t no hope for the rest of us. Some of the guys who died [serving in Vietnam] were so young, they ain’t never had no p****. Crying for their mothers, blood running into the dirt. My president better be getting p***** or I don’t know why anyone would die for this country.The words of My dear departed friend, A man who would have been devastated if the powerful office of POTUS didn’t include the benefit of sex with whomever, wherever, and however the leader of the Free world wanted
Now it’s Trump in the impeachment hot seat. Different details but same thing that got Nixon and Clinton–abuse of power. The Jaded Public is no longer shocked, not really too surprised either.
My understanding of how people experienced Nixon’s impeachment is this: That event rocked their worlds, dismantled the faith and trust people had in government. And like Humpty Dumpty, when that belief was shattered it couldn’t be put back together again. During that time, people said, “How could he?” They hoped it wasn’t true but overall the public didn’t fight Nixon’s departure. The media was trusted.
Today, “How could he?” is replaced by:
Many agree with me that Trump’s issues have nothing to do with me, though politicians tell me I’m being attacked (whoever’s talking points the finger at the opposition; both sides have similar rhetoric). That’s why media outlets include stories like the one about grief stricken parents enlisting community help to perpetuate the fairy tale that they can get their dead child back if the whole church prays. You’d think that’s a story for a slow news day, not a historic day our descendants ill will study in school. When those future kids learn about today I hope they learn why we became so cynical. I guess, like my late friend who was a medic in Vietnam, we’ve all seen American boys young enough to still be virgins killed bc they couldn’t buy their way out of the draft by going to college. Their sin was poverty, the blood that flowed was from the poor, not the blood of Jesus. We’ve watched the rich and powerful maintain their status as Men Behaving Badly. They’re not punished at all or their punishments are laughable. Maybe Jesus died only for the rich, who get a free pass. If anything happens to Trump, I’m sure shoplifters will face steeper consequences. I will see what happens so I can talk about it when I’m old but I’ve got no skin in this game.
Be sure to alert me if that child is resurrected. My words are meant to show a sign of the times. I want to clearly express my sympathy for the family. I have had some experience with that pain of grief and loss. You worry the pain’ll kill you, but you’re more afraid that it won’t.
Laughter=The Life I WantTweet
You get the idea. For now, I don’t have daily laughter but I have my blog and I want you to know that for your increased enjoyment, I will post a (hopefully) sexy picture–well, scantily clad picture anyway, along with the idea of the post. The blog will remain suitable and appropriate for most audiences because this is not porn, but a funny and sexy look at the journey from ivy league elite to addicted hooker on the street. Hey, since I can say that with a smile I am obviously resilient enough to make that daily guffaw an eventual reality. Hope you will be smiling too by the end of this post.
What would make life in paradise perfect?
Hint: This activity is rumored to be the best medicine. Answer will follow!