I was talking to a lady not much older than myself, forgotten and neglected by family, stuck in a nursing home, without hope, because of some bad luck.
Families do not rally around for a family member who is disabled. There are almost no family values left, and so many people have no one.
I am lucky to have my children, but if I were to get sick, I have no idea who would be there for me. Many people have no one. I guess we have to trust God if we can still believe in Him.
These are facts that I think are contributing to the falling apart of society. 1) The popular support group, Alanon, originally pertaining to alcoholism, the loved ones, started by Lois, the wife of Bill Wilson (author of the book, Alcoholics Anonymous, often called 'The Big Book'), has turned into a support group for anyone, even if it does not pertain to them. They use it as a pass to do nothing for anyone, and to be totally selfish. The idea is that just for today, I will take care of myself, a very good thing if used in the right context, but this pop-psychology has given many an excuse to just ignore anyone in need. Yes, we do need to take care of ourselves, to not enable, and all that, but there is a joke even: what is a slip for an Alanon member?: a moment of compassion. 2) Our healthcare system is not better under Obama, but worse, and many of these new health care plans are bogus. Medicare and Medicaid are taken by fewer and fewer doctors. The liberals defend Obama, but this healthcare plan is not even what they wanted, and many of us, like me, only voted for him again out of fear of Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan, that they would make things even worse. I believe they would have. They wanted to destroy Medicaid, which would have put poor people in jeopardy and without medical transportation. As Bill Clinton said so well, at the Democratic Convention, they think there is some alternate universe, where the poor and disabled, who rely on Medicaid, including children, either do not exist, or suddenly do not need this help. I do not know what they were thinking. Truthfully, I do not think they could have done that, with the poverty in rural states like South Carolina where I am from. 3) Churches do not reach out and support people in the way they should, not the disabled or elderly.
The way things are now, the lower middle class and poor are barely surviving, and rich people are managing to get fraudulent Medicaid. This only serves to take away from the people who really need it. The poor are suffering in America with so called Obamacare. The ones who are honestly trying to get insured, are often financially still unable to, because of the ones who should not really be on assistance. I think the system is really messed up in a lot of ways.
Why are so many people alone, forgotten, neglected, uncared for, and/ or homeless? A friend of mine told me that three or four homeless people that live in her area, died this winter, out in California, due to exposure to the cold. This is really sad when you think about it, and when you take a good long look at what America once was and was supposed to be about. I realize this has been going on for a while now, but it should not be going on at all.
The best feminist book is Women Who Run With the Wolves, a complete archetypal Jungian dissertation, which you can study and takes notes in, as well as reading as a group. Dr. Pinkola brings the traditions of medicine woman from South American tradition together with Jung, the shadow, and the fairy tales that have deeper meaning.
Another good feminist book is Loving Him Without Losing You. This PhD. writer talks about how women live so much in fantasy, and not really noting reality.
I think to call oneself a feminist is one thing, but truly living it and learning what it means is another. Many female authors are feminists as well, such as Elizabeth Berg, Joyce Carol Oates, and others.
It is hard for women today. We want to be in relationships with men, but often they do not work out, and not to harm anyone, we have to move on and take our power back just to survive. We do not want to lose ourselves.
I may be too far from a dreamer, but even though I have been married, had kids, and had long term relationships, part of me thinks no one has been in love with me. I really do not know. I know that I thought, at one time or another, that I was in love, myself, but I do not even know now if I really was.
Now I almost have an aversion to men. I get turned off by them really fast, and I cannot bare wasting time with anyone, knowing full well they are not for me, that I am not for them. It is not anything against men in general. I mean I have sons. I just get bad feelings sometimes about the men who approach me. It could just be jadedness or caution, but I have learned to ward off red flags, and I will not 'rush in,' ever, after the experiences I have had. Once you have had your life demolished and had to pick up the broken pieces of your finances, your kids, yourself, it gets harder and harder to want anyone, or to even say yes - ever. I am not wrong in this, but I am not saying it is good. It just is what it is.
At this point, I think I am just okay with me.
In the ecosystem, we have a food chain, and every species, insect, reptile, mammal, plant even, has a purpose, in it. Here in the south, we do not have a lot of snow, the southeast that is, but we have the brown recluse spider, and we have copperheads and water moccasins or cotton mouth snakes, but mostly in wooded areas, fresh water for the moccasins, woodpiles, old sheds, shoes left outside for the brown recluse, which has a flesh eating venom which is serious.
However, out on my front deck, out of the way of human traffic, there is a big spider web and a big spider on it, very cartoonish, so clear is it, under the light of the outdoor lighting.
I was worried, because of horror stories I heard about the brown recluse, and the flesh rotting away from its bite from the inside out, so I started doing research on spiders, to try to assess what to do, and what type of spider it was.
From my research, the brown recluse has un-spiraled or smooth, spineless legs, and it has a violin pattern on its head, and only six eyes, verses eight, however I cannot see well enough to see any of that, and who wants to get that close? Kind of dangerous. But, I did compare it to some pictures I found on line, and I was pretty sure it was not a brown recluse, because of the right out in the openness of its very distinct web. They say the brown recluse only builds small out of the way webs, and would not be hanging around like the spider in Charlotte's Web. My son likes this spider. It eats moths and mosquitos, and hopefully roaches, which I hate, and it is not bothering anyone. Still, I worry. I realize that most spiders cannot bite at all, so there is little to worry about. There are spiders that look similar to the brown recluse, such as the wolf spider and others, but I have not been able to see well enough to see exactly what spider type this is.
One spider which is also notorious for its poisonous bite, is the black widow, which contrary to myth, rarely really eats its mate, the female that is. Note I said 'rarely.' This spider is black with a distinct red marking on its back.
If you do not want a spider or it is in the way, and you do not want to murder it, in case it is not a menacing one, you can take a jar and a piece of crisp paper or cardboard to capture and place it elsewhere. However, this is not so easy for everyone, mainly me, because of my slight fear of spiders, and liking them from afar. I truthfully kill spiders I find indoors, to be on the safe side, just squash them, rather than dousing with bug spray to induce a slow and painful death. I would not even like doing that to a roach, at least not seeing it.
If you love spiders, and you have found a web like mine, a 'Charlotte's web' kind of web, you can feed your cute spider, by throwing small insects into the web, such as a beetle, an ant, a roach, a moth, hopefully dead.
Just to end, back to snakes, I once completely freaked out when a big corn snake went under my trailer. I had cats then, and I was trying to throw the recycling bin over it, to capture it, and the cats just sat and stared at it like wimps, because normally cats kill even the most poisonous snakes. I did not know at the time it was a nonpoisonous snake, and thought it was a coral snake or worse. The Mexicans across the street heard me screaming, but I do not know if they knew what I was screaming at, and I do not know the Spanish word for snake. They probably just thought I was having an emotional nervous breakdown, like my boyfriend left me or something, lol. I called a snake specialist, and he charged me fifty dollars for going under to find it, and all through. He never found it, but he showed me a picture of a snake that looked just as it had. I said, "yes, yes, that's it." It was a harmless corn snake. Still, I had a hole near my bed which was right above the place outside where it had gone under the mobile home, so you can see my concern.
I think that spiders are fascinating creatures, but beware of the brown recluse and the black widow.
We live in a world of materialistic values. I have had friends who were extremely materialistic. I still do. If I were to subscribe to their values, however, I would be screwed.
I admit that I would love to have a more beautiful house. I only had a beautiful house for two years, aside from the modest, but lovely home, I grew up in. Some people, however, like a friend of mine, only get to have a child for two years. My friend's child died. It is obvious what is more important.
Still, we weigh and value people by what they own, drive, live in. We even gage their intelligence on this, because had they been stupid, would they not have made choices as bad as mine? Truthfully, I have known people who were poor, but highly intelligent, so that is not the case. You cannot take your 'shit' with you when you die. It won't fit in your ivory coffin. So, realize that even if you want to keep up with the Jones's, it is not worth it. Do not compromise oneself for others' beliefs. If you are comfortable or not, remember that all the wealth in the world, cannot necessarily bring more than glamour. Perhaps, with Hollywood and everything else, glamour is what we are driven by. It is only lies we tell ourselves that make us unhappy.
I think I would miss the convenience and ethnic diversity of my neighborhood, as well as the true richness of life, if I were to move to a fancy dwelling. Happiness does not lie in the ivory towers of the mind.
The title is actually something that Einstein said, but I think it is true. I have to take my hat off to Jodi Picoult for The Storyteller, a story of a young woman whose grandmother is a holocaust survivor, and she meets a man in his nineties, who claims to be a former S.S. officer, a Nazi. He wants Sage to kill him, but she gets in touch with the F.B.I. and Leo Stein, an agent specializing in this area, goes to visit her grandmother with her, because she is the only one who could possibly truly identify him, in case he was lying, for whatever reason. The grandmother, Minka, has never talked about the camps, ever, but tells her story, which is horrific.
There has never in history been anything as horribly strange as the holocaust. I know that people have been persecuted many times over, such as slavery, genocide in Africa, the twin towers, the native Americans, but I do not know if people realize that the Jews have never been given a public apology by Germany. And, I realize others have not had that either. I also hate it when Meher Baba followers try to make up pat answers, and claim that Meher Baba said this or that. I really do not care about that, or care to hear it. I do not like A Course in Miracles interpretation either.
When you really think, nothing is as insane as rounding up Jews and at first taking their homes away, and sending them to ghettos, and then putting strict rules on them, like not walking on the sidewalk, wearing yellow stars, and not going to school. Jewish children had to sew those Nazi symbols onto shirts, etc..
Then in the camps, it was starvation and murder. Only by luck or strength, some survived, and those who survived were never the same. It makes you want to cry when help finally came, the English, Russians or Americans, depending on which camp, the red cross.
I find that among some liberals, there is almost an anti-Semitism nouveau, and you may not agree or understand, and perhaps it is not only liberals, but some conservatives too, but people do not seem to care anymore. As I said before, there is no statute of limitation on murder, and any Nazi still alive, no matter how old, should have consequences. However, unlike Law and Order, this is not always the case. They are, if sent back to Europe, rarely contended with there, and we have not the jurisdiction to punish them on American soil.
It is difficult for me not to hate the Germans, although I am one quarter gentile German, I am also half Jewish. Anyone should find the holocaust despicable. Please note that any anti-Semitic remarks will be removed from my blog. Freedom of speech has limits, not legally, but in this type of forum.
The good is that ethnic cleansing was not successful completely, and the Jews are still viable and worship in temples, have lives in many countries. Still, the idea that you should blame a people for your economic or social problems, take everything they own and eliminate them, taking away every human right, is preposterous, and I cannot believe they got away with it, until the war ended, and they were found out, the people surviving rescued. I think Picoult did an amazing job of researching and accuracy, and she is a world class writer in my book now, and although I have always liked her books, The Storyteller is her very best work.
I am reading Jodi Picoult's 2013 bestseller, The Storyteller. I would like to tell you that my idea of a good time was kayaking, sky diving, and jet skiing, but I guess I am boring, because my idea of a good time, is a good book or a good movie and a glass of wine.
Even though the holocaust was sixty years ago, there is no statute of limitation on murder. When we extradite Nazis to Europe, often nothing is done with them. No consequences, but anyone who watches Cold Case, knows there should be..
Picoult's main character is Sage, a name I wish now, I had kept. My birth name is Leslie, but part of me will always be Sage as well. I dreamed that Mehera said that I was Leslie Sage. However, my parents named me Leslie, a popular name in the early sixties, like Christopher, my brother's name. Leslie and Christopher were the names of actor Michael Landon's kids.
A bad economy is never reason for genocide. So many excuses for Nazism, and for the apathy of the Germans and other Nazi countries in Europe, towards Jews, gypsies, and anyone they considered the enemies, six million.
Samuel Clemons said "don't change the names and places, change your own name." That he did. His pen name was and is Mark Twain.
He said write as though only you were going to read it. This makes it real and raw. Stephen King, a more generic but good writer, said "imagine who you would like to read this." Mark Twain spent seven years, and at least three, writing his books, each one. King said, "get done in three months."
I spent two years on 'American Boys.' Few people read my blog anymore, which makes me wonder why I wrote it. It was happier than my real life. I do not want your pity, your charity. I only wanted to tell the truth. I have to live in lies it seems, and can never escape them, even though I wish so much to, so much, I can barely breath sometimes.
I watched all of Revenge on Netflix. It reminded me of things in my life, minus wealth I cannot imagine. Nolan looked and acted exactly like my Alan, who died, and watching it, brought Alan back for a while.
But, I cannot live the lie of the rich. I cannot live the lie of the pious, the self-righteous. I know in my heart that I am hated, and that I will never have my due heritage. The native American, in a sense, though not really, banished to poverty, and no one cares. They, the well meaning, throw their scraps at me, which only insult me more deeply than ever, and I can no longer live a lie.
The characters in my novel represented real people, my children, other people's children, Alan, myself, and ultimately 'Jim,' but I fear I will never have a Jim. Really I do not fear it, but accept it.
If you read my book, you would know 'Jim.' But, as I said, no one, hardly but a few, ever read my blog anymore. Perhaps, Americans will read again. As another author so eloquently said, "I wrote my book, because I wanted to read it."
Yes, as the title states, I like to watch these shows on Netflix. Of course they are not all I watch, but what I prefer as of late. The reasons are a few. For one, many of The Twilight Zone episodes are pieces of famous great literature. Some have much meaning, such as, The Obsolete Man.
The meaning is what we are dealing with in the world today. Any state that does not value the work and right of human beings, whether they be a librarian, a nurse, or a teacher, has no real value, and is meaningless. In this case, where the individual is not valued, the state is what is obsolete. This kind of crazy thinking is also a theme in the famous Twilight Zone episode narrated by Rod Sterling as they all are, entitled, Eye of the Beholder, the one where a beautiful woman's face is in bandages, and the doctors and nurses take them off, and she is still beautiful, but she is considered a freak, while they are the ones who really are. Meanwhile the supreme leader is on the television, in the hospital hallway, where everyone, doctors and nurses smoke of course, as in the early sixties, even later, speaking about the 'rules of conformity.'
Aside from the deeper reasons, I enjoy seeing how things were in 1961, when most of these were made, and the year I was born. I have a fascination with how people dressed, behaved, acted, etc., during the time my parents were young. The women seem downright histrionic, and the men sure wore their pants high wasted, lol. Maybe that will come back, high wasted pants for men. I'm sure GQ has some male model in Italian pants like that, even now, the equivalent to Vogue, although the owner of Maxim, one of the richest men in Scotland, said "GQ is for men who like socks better than sex."
Speaking of Vogue, I was once in Barnes & Noble with a girlfriend, and I had a sprained ankle, so while I was sitting, I asked my girlfriend to bring me a magazine. It was Vogue. I said, "can't you bring me something more realistic like Lucky or Jane?" LOL.
Last night I watched the Twilight Zone version of Charles Beaumont's story, The Howling Man, about the devil locked up in a monastery in Germany where an American seeks refuge. He is in the guise of a man, and so David frees him, because he does not believe the head of the monk order. So, he spends his life trying to lock the devil back up.
It is also interesting because it is post WWI in the story. I would be interested in when, because it implies that the devil getting loose causes WWII. The monk says, "wherever there is persecution, I have seen him."
The Man in the Bottle is another interesting short story, which I read in one of my anthologies. However, when I researched, I could not find the author's name, of the original story. I know it was around the forties or fifties, because it is about a couple who own an antique store. They are very broke and unhappy. An old woman begs him to buy an old wine bottle worth nothing. He gives her a dollar for it when she starts to cry.
It turns out the bottle has a genie, that comes out when it falls. They get four wishes. He wishes for the glass to be fixed on the case. It is. He wishes for a million dollars. They give most of it away, because they are nice people, but then they get audited and have to pay the rest in taxes, and only have five remaining dollars.
The genie returns. He has two wishes left. He wishes to be a ruler of a country, who cannot be voted out of office, anywhere in the world. He is suddenly Hitler, at the end of the war, being brought a vial of sianide poison, but just before he kills himself, he wishes to be back to who he was, his last wish. His wish is granted. The rules are you can wish to change the wish, I suppose.
He and his wife are so happy to be in their little antique shop. They accidently break the case again and laugh. Then they sweep up the broken genie bottle and throw it away. Then it puts itself together in the garbage on the street.
As my eyes worsen and worsen, I have outstanding memories of sight. One such memory is one of those 'American Boys,' if you will, memories, yes like my book.
We were outside in the moonlight, and now I am lucky to see the moon, cannot see stars at all ever, no matter how I try.
My son and his friends stood in the night, out in the front yard, in front of that boat we used to have, that his dad gave him.
They looked like a rock band, and they were, or he was... But, they stood in their youth, ruggedness, serious becoming men stance. I'll never forget the image as long as I live.
It is like the memory of your child's face, sad and forlorn, the memory of your mother smiling at you, as you walked in the door, not knowing, her not knowing.
It is like the memory of your cat, when he lifted his head for the last time. It is like the time when I met my husband, and we drank a beer and smoked a cigarette at some apartment somewhere.
It is like all the things I block from my mind, and all the things I cling to. My life is a journey and the blindness just another part of it. Perhaps in this darkness, I am losing nothing, and yet I think I am.
I think about the dog I had, the time I road horses, a day at the beach, the time we climbed Mount Washington.
And, again the night they stood outside, under the moon, in front of the boat. I see it there in black and white.
If I agree with Deepak Chopra on anything, and yes we do agree on a lot, just not medicine, it is his views on child rearing. The more positive reinforcement we give a child, the better, ex: don't say no, say how? and other good ideas.
When we say that the issues are in the tissues, which I got from Chopra, what that means is that the experiences of childhood linger and build the nerve synapses, which even in adulthood, are the culprit for low self esteem, depression, waiting for the other shoe to drop, etc..
When we are children we receive messages from adults, and it is not all our parents. It can be a teacher at school. Many people complain about the political correctness of today, but the political correctness, when it comes to kids, is correct, and that is why this is the new humanity blog. Putting down, ridicule, belittling, and more, do not belong in a civilized society any more than guns, rape or any other violence. Words can be as cruel, if not more so, than any slap in the face.
When I was in junior high, middle school they call it now, a tender thirteen year old, in formative years and puberty, only having begun menses a year before, I had a home economics teacher who liked to put me down in front of the class. I am not exaggerating. I am by no means stupid, and yes I did chores at home, but she would constantly say, in front of the other girls, that I did not know how to sweep the floor. I dreaded her telling me to, because I knew she would sit there all smug, and criticize, in front of the other girls. I showed my family and friends how I sweep at home, when at home, to see what I was doing wrong. No one could see anything wrong with the way I used a broom.
Okay, but it gets worse. I am in English class, and two girls say to me, "Mrs. Rabon showed everyone how you sewed the pocket shut on your apron. She said to everyone that it was you, and everyone laughed."
I yelled at the two girls, "that's not right! That is not funny!"
I applaud myself now for saying the truth, but the sad part is that as we become adults, as small as you might think this is, and believe me, this is not at all the worst of my childhood, by any means, the things that make us feel 'less than' are ingrained in our nerve synapses and transferred to the brain as feelings of being inferior, 'less than,' and ultimately we are stuck with low self esteem, all through adulthood, relationships, marriage, college, motherhood, work, career, everything, and not all in that order, and this sense of being unworthy and less than is like a great burden.
So, you might ask me now, what do we do? Well, we can get therapy or work on strengthening ourselves now, but what can we do about this not happening to our own children? We need to get teachers like Mrs. Rabon out of the school system. Teachers like her should be fired. This is a form of mental and emotional child abuse, and very serious. This type of abusive, immature behavior, on the part of a teacher, belittling and putting down a child of thirteen in front of her peers, whether she is present or absent, is not acceptable. As Dr. Phil would say, "this is completely unacceptable." A grown woman should know better.
Just remember all the times in your adult life, you felt stupid or ugly or less than, the chances are great, that someone like a teacher, who you may have even looked up to, as I did Mrs. Rabon, will be what tears you down.
In the new humanity, in a new society, we do not have room for this. There is a Whitney Houston song, The Greatest Love of All, and it says, 'I believe the children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way, show them all the beauty they possess inside, give them a sense of pride, to make it easier, let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be...' Do not stifle the children. I was a teacher, and I know they do not have it easier at home either. Let school be a wonderful place, full of joy and praise and love. That is my advice as a teacher. Yes, discipline has a place, too, but not ridicule, contempt, and mean spirited cruelty. A child is precious, and so beautiful, too delicate for a world of meanness and thoughtlessness.
I can see why Ann Rice became a Christian, having written, Interview With a Vampire and Queen of the Damned. It takes courage to write horror, with all the superstitions of religion.
Having had nightmares of a presence that was not welcome, finding myself awakening to my own voice, calling "Mother Theresa," I think there is something strange out there.
If there is a higher power, there could be a lower power, or someone told me that once. I think we have all felt a presence once or twice that was not welcome. Meher Baba followers may call out his name. Christians may say, "Satan I rebuke you in the name of Jesus Christ," and the new age like me, do Reiki and surround themselves with white light or burn sage like the Cherokees. I have done all of these.
Tarot cards are not evil, and the death card does not mean death. I do not do tarot readings, but have had them read for me a few times.
In many of the horror short stories, the devil is attractive, foreign, even sexy, and sometimes even a romance.
In Stephen King's The Stand, of which I read the uncut, forty something hour version, I thought it ironic that the devil was a guy named, Randal Flag, such an ordinary name. The bad guy always has no lines in his palms, in King's books.
I always thought the rape of Nadine by Randal Flag to be grotesque, and wondered curiously why she screamed so when she saw his male part. Even the uncut book, unedited, would not say so.
Did anyone read Needful Things by Stephen KIng? There is a car theme in his books as well, and like Poe, he wrote drunk, such as Cujo, in fact in a black out, although King is sober now. That one is waiting in my stack of talking books for the blind, to knock it out once more.
I realize now that Stephen King's Pet Cemetery, was influenced by 'The Monkey's Paw,' the 1902 short story by W.W. Jabobs.
Although King's books are turned into terrible B movies sometimes, he is a great writer. I loved the book Pet Cemetery. It was truly a story about grief.
In this novel by King, the father is trying to bring his dead son back, his little boy who got run over by a truck on the highway. In 'The Monkey's Paw,' in which the monkey's paw is a magical charm, his wife wishes their dead mutilated son back to life, but he has one remaining whish left, just in time, as his wife is unlatching the door to God knows what.
After just finishing another H.P. Lovecraft Story, I am reading an Edgar Allen Poe story, called 'The Black Cat.'
I was inspired to write my book by my children, their lives, their hardships and struggles, my own struggles, and my children's friends as well.
I think many people, especially those who either have money or do not have children, miss a lot of what the world is about.
My novel incorporates bits of my life, my children's life, the war in Iraq, friends of my children and their lives, and the problems of American society, class wars, the working class lifestyle, which we lived in, and still do, as compared to a life of privilege.
My entire novel is published on my new humanity blog, starting in January of 2012, and the epilogue written in May of '13. So, it took about a year and a half to write. The characters, for the most part, are based on true people, but not in any exactness, but similar.
I hope one day this will be a classic, a block buster. I think it is a very powerful book, and more honest than most, based on lives that have witnessed the real world, not hidden from the real world.
I think the best restaurant in town is Midtown Bistro. My brother in law took us there for dinner after my mother's successful eye surgery.
The food and service were fabulous. The medium rare tuna is to die for. The coffee is excellent, the cheesecake, heaven, and the piano entertainment adds a great ambiance.
I had had lunch there a few years ago with Alan and his friend Danny who took us there, and enjoyed it then too.
It is dark in there, but even though it takes a long time for my eyes to adjust, it is very restful on the eyes. I really enjoyed it. Best place in town.
Hans Fallada's books were banned by Hitler. Little Man--What Now?, although written pre-WWII, 1932, is not an anti-Semitic book. There is possibly one line in the entire book, which may be construed that way.*
However, according to Random House Publishing, a Jewish film maker made it into a movie in Hollywood. At this point and due to this, Hitler banned Fallada's books.
When ordered to write an anti-Semitic book, he had a break down, turned to alcohol and drugs, and ended up in an asylum for the criminally insane, and I believe that is where he died.
I am not saying that he was any kind of hero, but as a writer, an artist, I think he was a deep soul, unable to follow the rules of cruelty and hatred. That is just my opinion.
*After reading the book myself, I have to say that it is anti-Semitic in my own opinion, and there is more than one line that is blatantly so. Perhaps, and being a Course in Miracles student, I dislike judgment, but he may have gone crazy, not only because of his books being banned, and not wanting to be ordered by Hitler to write a truly anti-Semitic book, he may have felt guilty for having written an anti-Semitic book just prior to all that happened to the Jews, but I may be inventing my own scenario, so never mind. My mind has a way of trying to analyze what makes others tick, even when I do not know them. But, truthfully, I am not going to spend any more time pondering this.
I am reading a very important book, fiction, but a big party of history, translated from German, Little Man--What Now? by Hans Fallada.
I thought I was never going to get through the seventy-eight hour talking book, The Weird, an anthology of strange and dark stories by authors from H.P. Lovecraft to Stephen King to Joyce Carol Oates. It began with authors from the early 1900's and ended with the most modern, around 2005.
They were stories like 'The Man in the Black Suit' by Stephen King. Indeed, they were a bit dark, and some downright sick, to say the truth, but mostly entertaining.
The authors were from around the world, including Tagore, the famous Indian author. They were translated into English from the languages written in.
It was compiled and edited, and I cannot remember their name, but you could google it. The thing is, you need a lot of patience to get through the entire book.
I think I like dark books sometimes, because life is difficult anyway, and authors of horror and supernatural things, usually also have a dark humor, a sense of humor that not everyone can appreciate, but I can definitely, which is why I like King's writing so much. I read his humor between the lines.
As a reiki master, I have mixed feelings about the holistic health movement, which has actually been going on for about thirty-five years, so not anything new.
1} People cannot afford to pay for alternative health modalities if they are poor, because public health care programs do not pay for it. Medicare pays for chiropractic, but not Medicaid, usually, and that is about it. 2} Sometimes people really need antibiotics or chemo-therapy. It is not always the answer.
For these reasons, I could not finish Deepak Chopra's book, Reinventing the Body. With all due respect to Dr. Chopra, I felt it was a bit elitist to say that people who do not use alternative health measures, are not enlightened. I put it back in the box, and I returned it to the library for the blind, where I ordered it from. I like many of his other books, of course.
Reiki is amazing in its power when you are a true healer. Herbs are also incredible in their healing power, but these are not always available to everyone. Also, neither reiki nor herbs, alone, can treat every ailment and disease. Reiki can always help at some point, either hands on or long distance, but it cannot set a bone or cure cancer, on its own. Even a holistic doctor told me to 'go to the doctor to get antibiotics' for a kidney infection, before ending up in the hospital, she said, 'on intravenous antibiotics.'
I feel that my ordeal with BI-LO will make a difference for someone in this world, hopefully. It is ironic though, that I am not banned from one bar on earth, or any place for that matter, except the only stupid grocery store I can get to, BI-LO. They are f-ing Nazis. They remind me of the gestapo. I feel like a Jew in Nazi Germany. I am half Jewish, you know. I am also half gentile German and wasp, but who cares?
Things will change. You will see. The whole civil rights movement, and affirmative action began, because a woman named, Rosa Parks decided one day, not to go to the back of the bus.
I decided one day that I was not going to be treated like crap at the grocery store any longer, like being accused I was trying to steal their stupid shopping basket, not helping me. I'm sorry, but fuck them. They are assholes. I had no intention of doing anything of the kind. I do not break laws or take thing which do not belong to me!
I am going to take this to the supreme court if I have to. They treated me like trash, because I am blind. I have researched it, and what they did to me was illegal, but no one in law enforcement around here, is aware enough to know the facts. I broke no laws. I repeat, I broke no laws, but they have. They are violating my civil rights, and they will go down for it. I promise, whether you like it or not, or whether you believe me or not. It is called karma. They already made their karma.
Another way I want to make a difference is this: many people think they are worth nothing, because of how they were brought up, how they were not validated. We no longer need parental validation. We can parent ourselves. We have parented our own kids correctly, while our parents did not the same for us. A child cannot develop a healthy attitude towards him or herself, with parents that do not really take any action on their behalf, who allow their kids to be abused. The kids get sick and they never get closure on anything.
If your kid gets hit or abused by a neighbor, or bullied at school, or on the bus, or sexually abused, take action, press charges, but do not let your kid go through that kind of shit on their own. They cannot handle it.
Take action against crimes against your kids, and if you know someone who won't, then do something about it. When a child is left to feel alone, the anger, rage and hurt are never going to leave, and there will never, ever be closure for him or her, ever.
My grandfather on my mother's side was a hero in World War One. He was a colonel in the 60th division of the United States Army. He was decorated in France, in 1918, with the Distinguished Service Cross. He also obtained the Purple Heart. My grandmother, his wife, had immigrated from Latvia when she was thirteen, spoke several languages, learned English, became an office manager, and later head of the Jewish War Veterans Wives Auxiliary.
My grandfather, on my father's side was a lawyer. He spent three years in Fort Leavenworth Prison, for being a conscientious objector in World War I. He was tortured in prison.
He became a CEO of the Grant Company, and was very successful. My grandmother's sister was in the DAR. She was a wasp, obviously, but she declined to be, even though she qualified. She was a home economics teacher, and had grown up on a farm in Indiana. Her maiden name was Carroll. She was a direct decedent of Charles Carroll, a signer of the Declaration of Independence. She was also related to Johnny Apple Seed.
My father was a graduate of Rhode Island School of Design, had retinitis pigmentosa, and was a fine artist. He met Meher Baba. My mother met Meher Baba in India before that. She was and is still an artist and a Harvard graduate.
Now I would like to tell a little about myself. I went to Lander University and Coastal Carolina University, as well as U.S.C., when Coastal was a branch of it.
I sang professionally in many forums, and helped to support my family, and in other situations supported my family with my music. I played my first singing and guitar playing gig when I was only thirteen. I sang on the Meher Center stage from the time I was nine. In 2004, I sang professionally once again in song writer show cases and with the Carolina Girls With Guitars. I was paid to sing at my gigs, and I am not an amateur in any way, contrary to popular Meher Baba follower, belief.
I taught school, substitute taught off and on, after my divorce from the father of my children in '95. I also worked in a health food store, and have had many jobs in my life. Finally I had to go on disability. I am legally blind, as you know.
Now I am a Reiki Master, and have been said to be a true healer, although I am not having clients now. I love animals and humanitarian causes. I love domestic activity and making things beautiful. I used to paint and draw, even had shows, before my eyes started going.
Now I just meditate, read, write, sing, play, and do yoga. So, that in essence is my biography, not exciting, but maybe some things my haters do not know. Just kidding, or not. Oh, and I was in the only family who's kids grew up at the center, which means nothing, of course. We all know that I am nothing, including me, lol.
In this magnificent age of computer technology, people are using ipads, iphones, blackberries, touch screens, windows, all great stuff. I do have windows and a cell phone, and a land phone, answering machine, but that is neither here nor there. Of course, I know that many people, including me, read online news, google reader, which my blog appears on, and some read these and even long novels, from iphones, ipads and computers. They are downloaded, and I have seen it demonstrated, how you turn the pages with a touch screen, which is awesome.
People, young and old are texting, sexting, skyping, chatting on line, facebooking, twitting, etc.. But, you know what? I never thought there was anything more sexy and cool, as a man reading a book, yes a book, you know, those things with paper pages, a spine, back and cover, hard or soft, with maybe even a jacket, or dust cover? I used to, and still do, in a limited way, due to my vision, read out of books, but I used to read one after another.
I know this tells how old I am, but like many of you, when I was in college, you actually had no computers. You researched out of books on shelves, even used card catalogs, which are now obsolete, which is good I suppose. I mean, when I call the state library for talking books for the blind, I know they are looking at a computer, not a card catalog, and now we have digital books for the blind. I read all the time. They make a great little machine just for the blind. It is free, and it is really easy to use, has braille on it. The cartridges are the size of cassettes, and slip easily, in and out, having print and braille on them. Of course, the thing is, you have to be legally blind to get this stuff, which takes medical proof, in case anyone out there, thought I was faking it. You would not believe how much blind people, even totally blind people, get accused by some asshole of faking it. "Are you really blind?," says the moron.
"Let me take your car for a spin. I hope you have good insurance." That will shut the assholes up pretty quick.
I had some idiot ask me, "did you have eye surgery?"
Quite earnestly, I said, "no, I have retinitis pigmentosa," naively thinking he was asking a legitimate, not smart ass question.
He said, "Well, I thought you were like ninety percent blind, and you seem to be getting around just fine."
That time, being quite annoyed, I said, "it's none of your business," and he went away. Ninety percent? Where did that come from? Even the eye doctor said to me, there was no way to measure my eyesight, because it was so bad, and I am totally blind in one eye, but ninety percent? Where did that number come from, I wonder?
I went to a nondenominational church, with my son. I guess they call it evangelical. The minister, a nice lady, said to me, "the Lord can heal your eyes."
I smiled and said, "thank you." But, truthfully, I thought it was okay to be the way I am, and the Lord really is not going to heal my eyes. I guess it was equivalent to telling a child about Santa Claus, only a little worse, because I am an adult, and I know that is a bunch of hog wash, bologna, to say it nicely. But, I need to get back to books and reading, and off my soap box about how people are jerks to blind and legally blind people, and how they do not understand retinitis pigmentosa, and have no wish to learn. Why should they? It is not their problem. It is my problem, and it was my father's problem, my kids' problem, and a bunch of other people's out there, even if a low percentage of the population. By the way, there is a type of RP, which causes deafness as well. It is called usher's syndrome. Again, back to books and reading.
On these cartridges, I have read everything from political biographies, to memoirs, to Deepak Chopra, to Neil Donald Walsh.
As well, I have read many novels.
With young people, not only does it seem like they are not interested in reading much, any more, but they do not seem interested in science, mathematics, history, geography, American literature, English literature, and so on, any more. They all want to be singers, actors, actresses and models, or something like that. Singers think they are musicians, but not in my book. People think they can just be a rock star. A good voice, and no real training, does not make one a musician, or even a singer, when one has no discipline, only a sense of entitlement, and over indulgent parents.
Believe me, I am not knocking computers. I love mine, and I like having a cell phone for emergencies and convenience. I just wish young people would read. I am sure I am generalizing, but I just think it would be nice if America's youth were more educated, and less sophomoric.
If you ever joined a twelve step program, or even saw a really good counselor for any reason, at any time, you know that you need to clean up your own side of the street, make amends when needed, look at your part, but do not have great expectations for anyone, ever.
Life is difficult. People are not as nice as we wish they were, and when they are, you are amazed sometimes, because most people are full of themselves and selfish.
People ask you about bad things that happened to you, out of curiosity, or to gossip, but do not offer help, only judgment, and a sense that they are better than you are, and would never be in your situation, because they feel they either have better karma, deserve better than you, or they assume you are to blame, without even giving you a fair chance.
People also show you exactly where you stand with them, and although some people are the salt of the earth, some are fair weather friends, who are only around when things are good.
When you have a disability, like bad eyes, people are condescending, pity you, and no one wants that. If you do not have a lot of money, or are having any financial difficulty, and do not want a hand out, people still treat you like you are less than.
I realize that I am not perfect, and I take responsibility for all I do and say wrong, but I still clean house from time to time. I do not want people in my life, who look down on me, are never there for me, or just pay lip service. I have no need in my life for people who are full of themselves. Being confident and loving oneself is one thing, but thinking the world revolves around you is another.
The Course in Miracles has taught me that I am no one special, but still I do not have to be a doormat, and I have no obligation to be nice to people, who treat me badly. I can forgive them, forgive myself, but I do not need them in my life. I am better off without people, who do not love, and are disingenuous.
I have had a really hard week. Something awful happened to me last Monday, and then something awful happened to me Thursday. I know who my friends are in this town, by who actually helped me, and who just paid lip service, and acted like it was my own fault.
It is freeing to not have toxic people around me. It is always freeing not to have toxicity around you. Again, it is good to forgive, turn the other cheek, forget about it, and move on. It is a far from perfect world, but cleaning up one's own side of the street and not being a doormat is a beginning.
Take action where you can, and where you cannot, then retreat, and trust God, and the universe. A wonderful, spiritual woman, who really loved me, and who I really loved, a few years back, passed away. Her name was Alice, and she died of lung cancer. She was one of the kindest, most caring people I have ever known. The last time I saw her, I went to hear her speak. I had just started going to the Commission for the Blind, and I was home for the weekend. The very last thing she asked me, or said to me, for that matter, was "are you trusting God?" I have a picture of myself with her, taken by my friend Kathleen, but it is not on Facebook, but in one of my scrapbooks. Namaste.
I think President Obama gave a wonderful speech concerning Trayvon Martin, and the results of the Zimmerman trial. I cried. I just feel so bad for Trayvon's parents, and about this terrible tragedy.
You know, one thing about being an American, is we all have different political views, etc., but one thing should be shared in common, and that is that this racial profiling, and not just racial profiling, religious profiling, economic profiling, etc., and even profiling of the disabled, needs to stop NOW, and I mean now!
You would not believe how the disabled, the blind are treated. People treat blind people as less than, as stupid, and there is so much ignorance.
Truthfully, if I had a choice, and I had financial means beyond what I do, I would not live in South Carolina, period. But, probably it is not so great in most states, either. The police are not really for the people. They do not care about the victim, or who was violated, they just want to look for warrants on everyone. We are almost as fascist as many other countries.
Yes, people treat blind people as less than, and it happens constantly, even if they have a guide dog.
Another thing I am sick of, and this includes the Meher Baba community, I am sick of Mr. and Mrs., Miss, or Ms perfect. I am sick of this in general, but Baba followers are very holier than thou, and most have not a clue what it like to really live in the real world.
Do you even know how rare real kindness is? I encounter it, but very seldom. Most of what I encounter is ego this and ego that, but very little love, very little help, and very little understanding, and I hate to say it, but very little intelligence.
I just wanted to add that I feel the police are doing their best at their job. I was just upset at the time I wrote this, well good enough, I suppose, but maybe could improve a little.
However, I still feel the same about Baba followers, and that just is what it is. I am sure there are exceptions, but not many.
I am not sure how I have survived the last few days. I wish I could tell you about them, but it is all personal. I do not know how I keep going sometimes, not to make anyone feel sorry for me. In fact pity, people being condescending, etc., is the last thing in the world, I or most people want.
No one wants to be pitiful, and like, oh poor so in so. You know? No matter how life gets, maybe they are right that God does not give you more than you can handle. Who knows? But, I do not even think I like who I am anymore, but I have studied the Course in Miracles, and I know it does not matter. There is no 'specialness' in a Course in Miracles, and all is illusion. Thank God, because this world is a nightmare, but somehow a certain amount of peace can envelop an enlightened person. I never said 'God realized.' Enlightened does not mean that in my language.
My blogs are going to be less personal from now on. I realize I have been too open about my life sometimes. I no longer wish to be.
I am wondering a theological question, which most Christians and Meher Baba followers, already have an answer to. They say yes. The Christians would say, "yes, but they are damned unless they get salvation and redemption," and a Hindu or Baba follower would say, "they just have to work the karma out in another life."
Still, for me, knowing that some policemen in South Carolina, hit a WWII veteran in the eyes, in the forties, who happened to be black, and coming back from the war, still in uniform, and made him blind, I find it hard to believe they could have had souls. It happened in the forties, of course, and was 'the blinding of Isaac Woodard,' who I have shared a picture of, being led up a hotel stairway, by two other men, one a prize fighter, I believe. He moved to New York, after the incident, and after losing his case in South Carolina, due to an all white, biased jury, who did not care, obviously, about this man, who had come back from the war in one piece, and then got blinded by the police, after serving his country. Woodie Guthrie wrote a song called, The Blinding of Isaac Woodard.
I know it is outrageous, but now I am wondering if any assholes have souls. I am so upset about what that Zimmerman guy did to Trayvon Martin, I am wondering if he has a soul, but I have a feeling life may not be too pretty for him now, not to sound too vengeful. The point is that a kid's life was taken, an unarmed kid at that, and now his parents are grieving. And, on top of that, they get no justice.
I once introduced a friend to another friend. She did not care for her, for some reason. She said, "did you see her eyes?"
I said, "what do you mean? What about her eyes?"
My friend shook her head ominously, and said, "there was nothing behind them."
I said, "what are you talking about?"
She said, "they were just empty. You could not see into them."
Now I think she is being ridiculous. I said, "are you trying to say she has no soul?"
My friend nodded, really slow and serious.
I said, "what ever do you mean? Everyone has a soul!"
She shook her head, really slow and serious again. "There's not enough to go around."
Now, I know this is all kind of silly, and I am sure she was wrong, but I got the creeps from the idea. But, she could have been projecting a lot, and been a bit loopy, herself. I mean, I have met people, who I found sort of vacant or obtuse, but I never assumed anything like that, but maybe felt they were not all there. That is another story, not to do with not having a soul.
I read a blog about this, which I googled, because I wanted to see what others were thinking and saying, so I read some Christian blog, which came up. I did not comment or join.
Many evil serial killers and so forth, are so cruel, that it seems they do not have a right to live, but on the other hand, is it really right to take their life? Some liberal states, such as Connecticut, have outlawed the death penalty, as well as New York and Massachusetts, unless it goes federal, like the surviving Boston Marathon bomber.
Still, I ponder, without doctrine of any kind, how such 'soulless' people can have souls, sometimes. Actually, for me, it is a new thought. I am in doubt of humanity now, and not feeling positive. Perhaps I should change the name of my blog to There is No Humanity or There is Little Humanity, a Rare Thing.
I was talking to my best friend from childhood, on the phone last night. We grew up here in this town, in the heart of Dixie, but unfortunately I am still here. She is now a litigation lawyer in Chicago.
We were talking about how there is no such thing as customer service anymore, in businesses. You go to a restaurant, in Illinois anyway, and you do not care for the food, it's not, "oh, let me bring you something else. We are so sorry. I'll talk to the cook."
No, it is, "it's made correctly."
I never complain in restaurants, but I have complained in a certain supermarket here in town, BI-LO, not about their products or the food, but how the management or costumer service is not serving the customer at all. They are not even there to serve customers. They are just there for a pay check, and quite frankly, although I have a disability, I am more intelligent than most, and I find these people to be outrageous.
I have a visual impairment. I am totally blind in my right eye, and I have tunnel vision and severe myopia in my left eye, as well as inoperable cataract. My eyes are prone to infection, but I am doing better with that now.
I have to enlarge my computer screen a lot, and when I am on facebook, I cannot see who is on line. I have been accused of ignoring someone I know, on chat. Of course I do not know he's on chat. I only get to see a small portion of the screen, due to magnification technology.
So, I had to wire some money to my son western union, and one manager filled the paper work out for me. When I went again, a few months later, the manager working was different, would not help me, and I had to ask for the other guy. If he cannot help anyone, why is he at the customer service desk?
Then, one day I am trying to purchase a Latin America calling card, to call my son in Peru, and not one person in the store is bilingual, to read me the instructions on the card, so I leave without buying a card.
I have spent thousands and thousands of dollars on food at this BI-LO, because it is the only grocery store close enough to my house. I do not have or drive a car.
Usually, I do not engage with anyone in the store, who works there, I mean. I just shop and leave. At one time I had food stamps, but for a long time, I have intentionally decided to try to manage without them, and cost the government less money. Disability is not much money, at all, so it is hard to get by. You can pay your bills, and you can pay for food, but you cannot live a luxurious life style, like vacations in Paris, India or even a stay at a spiritual retreat. You cannot even afford a therapeutic massage.
If I complained about anything or bad service, for any reason, there was no apology or 'here's a gift card for your trouble,' or anything, just excuses on their behalf.
A few weeks ago, I was accused of trying to take a shopping basket home with me, the kind with a handle, and is like a rolling suitcase, like people use in airports. An employee, who I could not see, yelled it out. I recognized her voice, as to which employee she was, though. It was about noon. Her voice was coming from the shady area, where employees sit, eat and smoke, as well as talk, on their break. I have very good hearing, and heard other voices there as well, although faint, and not identifiable. I felt I was being publicly humiliated for something I did not even do, like deformation of character.
The irony is that I never break any laws. I was the victim of a burglary, only about a week after this took place.
I was just going to put the groceries in our car, and bring it back like anyone else. I stopped in my tracks. "What?," I said. "You think I am trying to take this home with me? We have a car. Do you think I am a street person?"
I was so mad. I went back inside, saying I was going to complain to management. This woman comes over. I have never seen this one before. I tell her the situation. She tells me, "we have had a lot of these stolen lately." She did not say, "we're so sorry."
I raised my voice, talking about what a prominent member of society, I was, and I was not screaming by any means, but my voice got a little loud, I admit. I was explaining that I was a good citizen.
She accuses me of making a scene, and tells me to leave, that she is calling the police. So, I leave, since I was told to. And, I just carry the groceries, rather than use their basket. I did not intend to, and nor did I, break one law. I do not break laws. I do not even want to live in a world like this, if you know what I mean, a world this unfair and unjust, and so mean and nasty.
A half hour later, maybe more, Officer Bellamy, who I know, because I live in this community, shows up at my home. My son tells me the police are outside, and want to talk to me. He has a trespass order. He explains that I am not in any trouble, but if I go to BI-LO again, I will be arrested, for the next six months, that is. He said it is not a restraining order, and would not go on my record in any way, but I suppose I am spilling the beans, anyway, because I feel my blog is my outlet.
He apologized to me, but still, I do not understand how they can do that. Officer Bellamy said that they used the word, 'irate,' to describe the way I acted. Perhaps, I should have just taken their lousy treatment in stride. I suppose I should have been meek, and turned the other cheek, and not complained about being called a thief, when I am absolutely not. My grandfather, who died before I was born, was a CEO of the Grant Company, and one cause for huge lawsuits, was an accusation such as that, public humiliation and deformation of character.
I know they can ban anyone they want, but now I have no way to get to a grocery store, unless I get a ride or call a taxi. My son is usually too busy working, and all, to take me to the store, or anywhere, for that matter. There is a Dollar General, I can walk to, but I will not be able to get much fresh food there. My friend Gary took me to Kroger's yesterday, so I could get soy milk, kefir, and kashi cereal. I am fifty-one years old. I have to take care of my health. I have two sons living at home. One is working and eats out mostly. The other has a disability, and is on disability income, but cannot manage too much responsibility, which puts more responsibility on me, but he may have to take on more responsibility now.
What is really ironic is that about ten years ago, when my younger child was only about thirteen, I did have food stamps. I was in BI-LO, shopping. I had been at the self check, and South Carolina EBT card is like a debit card with a certain allotted amount designated, and you have to keep track of the balance. When I checked my receipts after the next shopping trip, I had my remaining ninety dollars missing. I had remembered two cashiers going behind me that day, but I did not accuse anyone. However, I put in a police report for the equivalent to credit card fraud, which is what they told me, and it was looked into. A detective came to my home, to tell me that two BI-LO employees were caught on surveillance footage, standing behind me, the day the money went missing. One wrote down my four digit code I had to punch in, and the other my card number, and they spent all of my family's allotment of government subsidized food money, on themselves that day. One got probation, and the other got PTI, pretrial intervention. They were of course fired, and I was given ninety dollars worth of store credit to buy whatever I wanted in the store, including paper goods, and what not, rather than just food, since it was their employees.
It was stressful for us, until it got solved, because we had no food. It was November, and so we had to eat remaining Halloween candy. That was all we had. I had no money at the time, with bills and all. The irony is that BI-LO employees committed a crime against me, and I never did anything to them. They stole from me, and accused me of trying to steal from them, ten years later, but the difference is that I was completely innocent of any wrong doing, or intention of wrong doing. I had forgotten this, until yesterday afternoon, and none of the same people still work there, and the store moved a couple of blocks south, and became a super BI-LO, but it is relevant, and to me ironic.
I have an attorney now, to handle it, and the president of the National Federation for the Blind, a friend, who is also an attorney, and a politician, called me back, as well.
I spoke to Lieutenant Boyd, and got a call back today from another police supervisor, who said he would talk to them, but my lawyer had told me not to do anything, so I declined, and now I wish I had taken the supervisor up on that.
Apparently, the store managers are not there to serve, only to be jerks. I said to her, "there is a thing called the first amendment." People are just ignorant and stupid, and think they are important, because they have some dumb job, and get to boss people around. I have done some research about BI-LO, and found a lot of complaints on line from employees being mistreated by managers. I also found a sight where customers complain about the lousy customer service at BI-LO.
What I am saying is that, I am not the only one who is having, or has had a bad time with that store.
I called their customer service headquarters, who called the store on my behalf, but that was to no avail. Hopefully, my lawyer can help. I do not know, but it does not seem fair, because I do not drive, and that was the only grocery store I could get to on my own.
I even wrote to Congressman Tom Rice. I received a typed letter back from his office, with numbers and addresses for legal aid and law enforcement, but I still feel helpless, and I do not know what to do. I wish my lawyer would do something.
Now that I finished my novel, American Boys, I thought I should write, German Roaches, although I am not sure whether it would be a statement about economic status in a Tolstoy type style, or Dickens even, or should it be more of a sci-fie, horror, thriller, about mutating roaches, that can survive three minutes of microwaving, commercial extermination, twice, several bombings, excessive cleanliness, combat, roach motel, baking in the traditional oven, refrigeration, freezing, etc.?
I say this lightly, but it seems they have mutated. Fortunately, they do not like the bedrooms, because bedrooms have no crumbs or water, but as long as there is a tiny crumb, you will probably have a roach, or a tiny grease spot from cooking. I think they can even survive being washed down the drain, almost.
Well, as I said I can make a novel about great poverty conditions and hardship, or of course the sick psycho thriller about the mutant roaches. I just want you to know that when I bought this place, they were a hundred times worse, and I bought it from a judge, who said he was going to exterminate, but he either did not, or he could not do it successfully. I had some helpers for the day before I moved in, and one of the things they did was spray. The point is, they are not as bad as they were when I bought the place, by far, but they are not gone. I am afraid to spill one crumb around here, and that is not easy when you are visually impaired. Where did that chereo go anyway? If the roaches find it before I do, they will have a hay day. Some crazy, uninformed social worker, might want to take children out of homes, because of roaches, so they can put them in foster homes with human roaches. No, that is not true. Only amateur 'wanna be social workers,' would have such an idea as that.
They (organic type people) say we live in too sterile a world, which causes stuff like Epstein-Bar and chronic fatigue syndrome, with a propensity for lyme disease as well, of course. Just kidding. But, did you ever see that episode of Seinfeld? Elaine is talking about this friend with lyme disease, and Jerry says, "I thought she had Epstein-Bar."
Elaine says, "Oh yeah, she does, but she has lyme disease, as well." But, truthfully, Epstein-Bar is called 'the yuppie disease,' for that very reason, too clean an environment, and believe me, I like clean. I was brought up that way, myself.
I am going to find a way to kill the suckers, somehow, some way, someday, roaches that is. Got that, computer robots? Roaches, okay?
I posted a picture of one of my cats that passed away, but cats do not help, nor do dogs. They just live in peace and harmony with German roaches, like they were other pets. I guess they are not as bad as mice, rats or reptiles, and they are not poisonous, and they do not eat your house, but they are a pain.
Bay leaves do not work. Salt does not work. Home defense does not work. Raid does not work. They say if the world were to have a nuclear holocaust, the roaches would survive. If they can survive three minutes of microwaving, and being frozen, I believe it. After all, they have an exoskeleton, as we learned in Biology.
This recent fourth of July, my heart was not in it. It was in it, in a sense, because I am patriotic, and I enjoyed celebrating with friends, but my heart was really with how black people did not, for so many years in this country, enjoy the freedoms, that whites did.
Black men went to WWII, to fight Hitler, in a segregated army. They went to help the holocaust prisoners, but they were victims here. The south was a continuous lynching. F.D.R. disregarded this. His wife cared, but he did not. Truman disregarded it. Back in the twenties, Theodore Roosevelt disregarded it.
Isaac Woodard had just returned from WWII, was still in uniform, and for asking a greyhound bus driver, if he could stop for him to use a restroom, he was beaten by police in South Carolina. He was hit in the eyes with billy sticks, they poured alcohol upon him, and he woke up blind.
I posted these blogs, to say exactly what Frederick Douglas said in the speech that I posted, acted by Danny Glover.
It all just seems grossly unfair. We see ourselves as great for fighting the Nazis, while torturing our own.
It seems like hypocrisy. Ironically, as I said in my blog on July fourth, or one of them, that most of the New Yorkers, who went down to Mississippi to protest the execution of Willie McGee, a black man, falsely accused of rape of a white woman, were Jewish, including Einstein and Norman Mailer, whom I am related to by marriage, although he is passed on. William Faulkner also protested, and many northern women. No white man has ever been executed for rape, and Willie McGee was in fact, innocent.
However, Willie McGee was electrocuted in the traveling electric chair, and there are chilling audio records of this happening live, with spectators, as if they were going to a fireworks display. This type of thing that went on down here in 'Dixie,' makes me ashamed of the south, where I am from, but we have come a long way. It was, however, not that long ago, that these horrors happened.
It also makes me proud to have Jewish heritage, because Jews are by nature, intelligent, compassionate people, who have received much hatred and injustice, but have the wisdom and integrity to stand for righteousness.
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