Friday, October 28, 2011

Homiez n Da Rulez

   I have had, during the course of my course, of course, three unique homiez, Shakespeake, Plato, Jesus. Not in any particular order, mind you, but each holding equal weight, they have, along with dear old Mom, given this boy all the life lessons one could hope for. Others along the path have contributed to the goodness, but these three are my deep homiez.
   One spoke indirectly, through drama and poetry.  One spoke directly, through speech and example. One spoke largely by telling another's tale.
   The Bard, after whom I name my online selves, taught me that it's all on me, that there are no vengeful gods pissing in my soup. JC was all about feeding peeps, curing peeps, blessing peeps, loving peeps, and never, ever hatin' on peeps. Plato, the most removed of the three, reminds that although we are not perfect, we are truly eudaemonistic, that is, moving towards the one good. Pretty much what Mom said stuff.
   If asked what I'd like to be when I grow up, I reply that I have no plans to grow up. Older, hopefully.  But not up. I want, always, to view the world through hopeful, wistful, wondering eyes, open to all the lovely possibilities.
   My real deal, no-shit goal is, and for many years has been, to meet, and play, with as many people as I possibly can, before I die.
  There's a reason.
   Ever watch two three-year olds, sitting in a nasty puddle, making mud pies, all the while laughing their asses off? At that moment, they are moving toward that Platonic state of eudaemonicity. They are being godlike.
   What's a fancy word for play? Recreation. What's the big whoop power we usually ascribe to the deity? Creation. What are we doing when we play? Re-creating ourselves. Yup. Godlike in all respects.
   So, the life lessons, garnered through careful observation, and application of The Wisdom of the Homiez,
basically boil down to this: Take Care of Business & Play Nice in the Sandbox.                                   
   You will, I am certain, have noted that there are no subordinate clauses in the lessons. It's not "take care....unless my ass is tired or cranky". It's mos' def not "play nice...unless she called me a name."
   Jus' sayin'.
   Like Mom. And my homiez.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

A Stroke of Luck

   Mayhap you've read my short essay, Reflections of a Repentant Stroke Victim, mayhap not. All things considered, pretty funny scheit. This Friday, October 21, 2011, exactly two days hence, I shall mark the one year anniversary of waking up to falling on my face, trying valiently, but vainly, to chat up the handsome ambulance attendant, staring up at the lights in the emergency room at Good Sam, politely nodding at the clearly indifferent doctor who asked me about a DNR order, wiggling my left thumb the next morning and coining what would be, for a while, my personal mantra, "One New Trick Every Day", having my urinary appendage directed by others than myself, the portable peepee purse with its brilliant condom catheter, tormenting the lovely nurses in rehab for two weeks, working with a very handsome speech therapist, who turned out to be the partner of a softball buddy, meeting a lovely German family with whom I could practice the wonderful language I'd learned in Xavier High School, eating diabetic-death-dealing dietary fodder, personally prepared and provided by the evil dragon woman troll, having my driver's liscense suspened by DMEFFINGV,coming home in a wheelchair, having my twin nephews name my jacked up left arm Bob, as they climbed into my wheelchair, smacking me in the face with Bob, because, they smilingly explained, I couldn't defend myself, then, once out of said wheelchair, running into me full tilt to see if they could topple their uncle, nearly setting fire to myself in the kitchen as I tried to stand up, out of the wheelchair, and cook breakfast only two days after returning home, forgetting to remove the damned snuggie thing, thereby having it rest a while on the burner before flaming up slightly, learning to wash my own balls again simply because having my wonderful sister-in-law continue to do it had rendered us both weak and spasmed from giggling, working on simply walking, with a walker, then a cane, then neither, getting back into the kitchen so as to exert my mad baking skills once again, particularly enjoying baking dates with the loveliest niece evah, then with the young bros, making loads of cakes, breads and doughs, selling and sharing such, going to the kids' softball, baseball, soccer, and soon basketball games, all the while working out in my head, heart and soul, exactly what it means to be fully alive. Still!
  This Friday, in classic Warren tradition, the fam plans to observe this anniversary by coming to my house, where I, at the request of Elijah, shall prepare my legendary, classic Peanut Butter Chicken, and the kids shall make and bring dessert. The after dinner plan will see them festively festooning the walker, much as they have my Christmas tree for many years. I will have not only the pleasure of their company, I shall also once again proudly don the Halloween golden pimp hat they brought to me in rehab. The One Year Anniversary Stroke Party!
   Sum, ergo sum! Adhuc! Nondum!!! And, it does NOT mean I am not dumb. Although...
   Ich bin, deshalb, ich bin! Noch!!!

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Advanced Inequalities

             Song for a Revolution: Advanced Inequalities

Get a job, stop cluttering, littering up this street

            Cried the bankers, traders, supply side down-tricklers
While they downsized, outsourced, laid off, pink slipped
Teachers, carpenters, baggage handlers, clerks, mothers,
Sisters, brothers, and fathers who fought in their wars.

You’ve got no voice. No one hears what you say.
We have the power, the money,
No point in fighting when you need the DJIA.
Go home now, while you still have one.

Crumbs for your tables, meager meats for your stew,
Praise God, thank your mortgage bankers
We’ve left remnants of that dream
To trickle slowly down to you.

Get off our nice streets now
‘fore the cops take you in.
Protesting our wealth will earn you
Just the just wages of sin.

You have no place here,
On this street, called the Wall.
Close to that harbor, with a great Lady, who calls
For tired, huddled masses, yearning to breathe free
For you’ll be arrested if you march on our street.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Let Them Eat Pizza

   In response to the recent Occupy Wall Street movement, businessman, Herman Cain, former Godfather's Pizza Chairman & CEO, current contender for the Republican presidential nomination, and all-around swell guy has declared war on the protesters. Calling them "jealous", and accusing them of "playing the victim card" while "looking to take someone else's Cadillac", Cain has broadened his appeal to the virulent, extreme right wing ( is there any other wing, these days?) of the Republican Party.
   Cain claims that they are anti-capitalist because they are protesting against the bankers and Wall Street. You know, the good folks who, through sheer avarice, created the broken, outsourced, bankrupt, foreclosed economy we're all living in today. The ones, who, along with coroprate CEOs, are still in the midst of the "good times", while the nearly dead middle class struggles to meet the bills, and put food on their tables, and into their childrens' mouths.
   Mayhap, he could borrow a line from Marie Antionette's alleged response to hearing that Parisiennes were starving. Yesterday's "Let them eat cake" can be today's "Let 'em eat pizza."

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Designated Deities

   A rather funny, if not altogether unanticipated, conversation has now arisen, sharply, amongst the rank ranks of Tea Party panderers as to which of them is more morally acceptable for the highest office based on his or her religious subscriptions.
   Texas Mega church pastor Jeff Jeffers has claimed that Governor Perry is the most suitable candidate because he, unlike former Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney, is a true Christian, rather than a member of the "cult" of Mormonism.
   I distinctly recall, from my own religious instruction in Catholic high school, being taught that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is, indeed, a cult. I also distinctly recall being taught in Catholic elementary school that it would be a sin to enter another religious group's church. I remember wondering, what exactly the hell did those damned Lutherans actually DO in their not-ever-to-be-entered church as I passed it each day on the bus on my way to Catholic school, and my personal, mostly, compliant salvation.
   So, I thought I'd do a quick check of my own to determine which of these good folks was indeed most worthy, based on religious beliefs, and practices.
   First up: Sarah Palin. Although she officially declared out of the running this week, I figured we would all benefit from knowing more about her ethereal understandings. Paling was born Roman Catholic, then, as an adult, switched her allegiance, and tithings, to progressively more fundamental-leaning churches. Like the one where they were big on glossolalia, speaking in tongues. Clearly, Ms. Palin was a successful convert.
   Herman Cain is a good, old fashioned, regular sort of Baptist, and an associate minister at his church.
   Ron Paul, Representative from Texas, was born Lutheran, converted to Baptist, whose five children were all baptized in the Episcopal Church. You know, the American version of the Anglican communion, the one that used to be Catholic, but was started  by Henry VIII when he deemed the rules of the HRCC to weigh too heavily on his throne. And libido.
   Newton Leroy Gingrich, born Lutheran, switched to Baptist during grad school, converted to Roman Catholicism,after marrying his third wife, and experiencing the "happiness and peacefulness" exhuded by Pope Benedict. (More thoughts on the actual meaning of the name Benedict in a future blog. Just because.)
He recently said, "In America, religious belief is being challenged by a cultural elite trying to create a secularized America, in which God is driven out of public life."
   Michelle Bachmann, my personal favorite candidate, because I also simply adore Daffy Duck,
 was "a longtime member of Salem Lutheran Church in Stillwater. She and her husband withdrew their membership on June 21, 2011, just before she officially began her presidential campaign." Word is, that this particular group regularly denounces the Pope as the Anti-Christ. Ms. Bachmann claims otherwise. She and Marcus now attend an evangelical church near their residence. Several religious writers state that the Bachmanns are members of Dominionist groups. 
   Former Senator Rick Santorum, who very recently advised "Values Voters" that they should pick a candidate based on "who they lie down with at night" was raised Roman Catholic.
   Santorum and his wife now attend a church in the old Tridentine, Latin rite version of Roman Catholicism. As in, the "we don't really like the post-Vatican II, "modern" version. They like their church the old fashioned way, where no one knew what the prayers even meant. I know, 'cause I was a Latin-spewing altar boy back in the day.
   This then, is the list of currently contending contenders, and their religious views and practices. Lotsa Lutheran stuff going on, so maybe the nuns were right! Then again, lotsa "my god is stronger, smarter, holier, more smiting than thine, so watch your ass, or my god will stomp on you and yours."
   Yup. Nolthing more fun, or chilling, that a nation prepared to move "forward" based on their leaders' adherence, or lack thereof, to unprovable deific beings and the "laws" thoughtfully given unto us by said deific beings.
   I thing I'll just go burn some insense in praise of Ralph the Wonder Puppy. And vote for whomever does the same. 

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Can't Run, but Sure Can Hide

Today, despite national concerns over the frightful paucity of intelligent, viable, non hate-spewing candidates straining and struggling to ascend the Republican/Tea Party throne, the Governor announced his intention to remain tightly bound by the weighty ropes of inertia.
"If asked, I shall not run. If begged, I shall not trot. If cajoled, I shall not sprint. If threatened, I shall not walk at an unusually quick pace."
Thank you,Chris Christie.

Look at all the silly little children

If you caught Erin Burnett's Monday evening opener for her new OUT FRONT spot on CNN, you might have wondered if you were hearing correctly. I know for sure that I had to double, then triple check to be sure. And, yup, the hearing was just fine. What appears far less fine was Ms. Burnett's depiction of the Wall Street protesters as silly, oafish clowns. She actually referred to one as " "Hero" Vincent, suggesting that he had a self-aggrandizing view of his participation in the protest.
Basically, she clowned on him. And, on all of them. Totally.
But, I get it now. Mainstream media is absolutely OWNED by big $$$, and will, in no way, take the side of the little folks.
A Huffington blog this morning higlighted the inconvenience the protesters were causing local shop owners.
Maybe she should rename her blog, the Tory Times.
BTW: In case you might think that I am capping unfairly on Ms. Burnett for her skewed piece on the protests, please be advised, she has just announced her engagement to Citigroup exec David Rubulotta.
Nice reporting job Mrs. $$$.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Another BASE note

   So, lemme see if  have this business aright.
   A bunch of young Republicans at UCB held a bake sale. The price you paid depended on your claimed etnnicity. Whites paid $2, Asians $1.50, Latinos $1, Black $.75, and Native Americans $.25. Women got an additional $.25 discount.  No discounts were asssigned to persons claiming Gay as their subgroup, mostly, I guess, owing to the fact that Gays are, in the larger social context, not permitted to have the same cookies or cupcakes as non-Gays.This event was purported to be a protest against proposed laws which would take into account race, gender and ethnicity in collegiate admissions policy.
   Interesting form of protest, especially when you consider that ethnic, racial, and gender subgroups often needed to use bake sales, rent parties, and various other subgroup methods to afford tuition, housing, and food costs in a social structure which had/ has for so long denied said sub-members access to all of the above.
   For the very life of me, I am hard-pressed to recall events in which groups of Republicans anywhere have held bake sales in support of anything, or anyone at all not White, Straight, and mainstream Protestant.
   Mayhap someday, after they have a chance to get to know a few of those other folks, who might actually be enrolled in their schools.