No, not as an effective barrier to bar from our shores hungry, tired, poor, and persecuted refugee seekers who still naively believe in the American Dream…
But as a self-gifted multi-billion-dollar massive monstrosity of a monument to President The Donald himself.Continue reading “Money Well Spent”
RACISM HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH RACE. Racism is the Progressive Left crying out for attention. If you disagree with the ProgressiveLeft. They consider you a Racist. They are desperate to hold on to the Black Vote.— Chuck Woolery (@chuckwoolery) August 19, 2019
Well, being an idiot is one way to remind people you’re still alive…Continue reading “Racism as Redefined by Chuck Woolery”
Weird moods such as…
As do weird modern remakes of classic Moody Blues mood music…
As I discussed in my last post, I’ve embarked on an effort to memorize stuff that interests me. I’m finding that the more I memorize stuff, the easier is to memorize and retain new stuff.
So as I just finished up memorizing the poem Invictus, I decided to go large and take on the grandest, and perhaps greatest, of all letters penned on behalf of these United States, The Declaration of Independence.
Yeah, maybe I am getting a little cocky/in over my head taking on such a significant body of work — significant as in packed with meaning, and, especially, significant as in packed with a lot of words. One-thousand, four-hundred and fifty-eight of them to be exact.Continue reading “Two Learnings from My Recent Rememborizing Efforts: One cool; One cautionary”
President Trump visited our nation’s newest national museum today and provided a few remarks afterwards, a video of which can be found below. I have not yet visited the museum so I spent some time learning a bit about it. I found several interesting videos that provide a narrative insight alongside a look inside the museum; however, I feel this non-narrative video accompanied with a groovy soundtrack from JUKEBOX DC speaks best to me about what the museum is all about, and what I look forward to seeing when visiting in person.
We all have our stereotypes, prejudices, and other indelible insensitive and less-than-helpful outlooks on life regardless how hard we might try to suppress them or convince ourselves otherwise. Often, these insensitive outlooks on life and our inability to suppress them put very heavy assumptive blinders around our thinking.
And narrowly-focused thinking can, while unintended, often lead us into insensitive and hurtful acts of behavior.
And its in this such context that I muse upon the “good old days…”
Back in the wonderful Nineties (Nirvana, 2Pac, The Matrix, Fight Club, etc…), I took a break from my normal Navy telecommunications gig to spend a few years in a special assignment as an Equal Opportunity Advisor.
To become qualified as an EOA, I had to attend three months of very intense and in-depth training at the military’s Defense Equal Opportunity Management Institute at Patrick Air Force Base in Cocoa Beach, Florida.
Let’s just say becoming an EOA is not the typical choice of an extremely White and WASPy dude like myself; so, due to the lack of other white, WASPy dudes like myself enrolled at the institute, it was one of those rare times in my life where I was in both the racial and gender minority for any significant amount of time.
Remember when we as a people wrote and spoke with informed eloquence?
Yeah, me neither…
But I was reminded such a fairy-tale time did, in fact, exist when watching former senator and Secretary of Defense William Cohen introduce retire Marine Corps General James “Mad Dog” Mattis to the Senate Armed Services Committee prior to its hearing regarding the general’s selection to be President-elect Trump’s Secretary of Defense. At the end of his introduction, which was eloquent in its own right, Cohen quoted from the famous 1884 Memorial Day Address delivered by the renowned law scholar, author, and orator Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.
I may occasionally write the junk, but rarely do I read it.
And it is not because I don’t like it that I rarely read it…
It’s because it, the really good stuff anyway, is so durn hard to read.
I’m talking Poetry here…
Poetry with a big, bold capital P.
And it is so hard for me to read (And by read I mean read. I mean really digging into the poem and fighting through the initial confusion and the complicated and often archaic words. I mean, not just reading the poem, but studying it and trying to close the gap in time from when the poem was written to when the poem is being read by learning about the poet and where and when and why and how he or she is from and where and when and why and how he or she lived and then coming to my own understanding of what I think the poem means and then trying to apply that meaning to my own life and where and when and why and how I live it. That’s what I mean by read.) because it takes more than a little bit of effort to read it.
I certainly don’t have time for all that junk.
I read an Edgar Allan Poe story today entitled The Angel of the Odd.
It’s a fun, fast, Kafka-meets-Twain, easy to forget kind of read.
But what is most memorable to me about the story is that it is entirely set up around the protagonists drunken dismay over what we would call the “fake news” of the day…