Monday, December 23,
2013
“Many love truth, but not many speak it.”
“Thought is a universe of freedom.”
“My thoughts form an Eden in my heart.”
“To rob one’s fellow of a penny
may be as bad as robbing him of his life.”
“The thief who finds no chance to steal
considers himself law-abiding.”
“The good pay, the bad demand.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Happy Holidays!
[Yes, corrections were made for your reading
pleasure.]
---
--- ---
It’s never too late to do the right thing
Since you’ve directly asked me I’ll answer
that.
Is it in the best interest of the Minnesotans
to do business with Zygi
Wilf?
No,
no it’s not in the best interest to do business with Zygi Wilf.
----------------------
In
my humble opinion a new Viking stadium deal would’ve been just fine with a
referendum vote and with the approval of the Minneapolis constituents but
because Minneapolis has had a teenage mayor with wet dreams for the past three
terms then some deals got done on the sly and hastily such as the stadium deal.
It isn’t in the best interest of
Minnesotans to do business with Zygi Wilf and his brother. Simply because it’s
been factually proven through a court of law that they cheat, steal and beg
from their partners.
What
more proof do you want than that?
According to Maya law:
whomever one does business with is
far greater and more important than large profits because one then invests in
the futures of their silent partners and others.
To
invest in a cheat is to get that back in returns.
You
get what you ask for and be quite careful what one asks for.
My question is this: Why are Minnesota politicians so hasty
to do business with a man that has such a rotten reputation in all of New
Jersey and New York City?
Our
East Coat contacts tell us, that it would in the best interest of Minnesota to
opt out of this crooked stadium deal in any way possible because the Wilfs
don’t have the best interest of their partners and they aren’t considered
honest either.
Anyone with power on a large scale
ought to step in there and dissolve this crooked stadium deal because the
Minnesotans can build this city on Rock
‘n’ Roll.
I
call to anyone with immense power to give the Minnesotans a gift they need but
don’t desire and that’s to keep their best interest intact.
To
all of those Judges, Attorneys, Ivy Leaguers, Social Elite and Cultural Elite,
make it happen because otherwise we’re in for a hell of a surprise that we soon
rather not discover when it’s much, too, late.
Don’t you know about the
mini ice age coming our way?
Cities
will need all the money that they have saved-up in their surplus storage to get
them through what’s coming our way. Devastating weather.
Don’t you know that if you
get stuck doing business with a tyrant then ‘something wicked this way comes’?
Don’t you anything about
anything?
My
job is to think and because I have ‘the best interest at heart’ for the Minnesotans
I would send the Wilfs packing so fast but it would take courage to say ‘no’ to
corrupt money because politicians think that all money is the same and it’s
not.
Blood
money is blood money.
Cheat
money is cheat money.
Cheers,
Gabriel
Word
count: 1,000
My
favorite place to shop is Crystal Center. (Hip! Hip! Hooray!)
Finally,
I’ve discovered a shopping oasis in the middle of the city where People are
real, kind and they know that others suffer, have real struggles and do their
best to keep their families from starvation yet provide the best Holiday gifts
possible that they can afford for their families no matter how small or large
the purchases.
Crystal
doesn’t go out of their way to send out over-sexed-advances and vibes, be cruel
or rude to patrons. Thank you.
I
can finally be left alone to breathe, browse and shop!
I
like that other patrons leave me alone to do my shopping. No bullshit questions
from other patrons when they can clearly see that I’m not an employ.
Seriously,
it’s the most improved shopping center as of this past year.
We’ve
been Holiday shopping at Crystal Target, Crystal Perkins and Crystal Dairy
Queen and it’s become one of the most pleasant and delightful experiences so
far this year.
Crystal
has really stepped up and moved with the times.
Crystal
does indeed participate in the twenty-first century and keeps its calm,
small-town composure with city chic attitude.
You’ve
got to give them credit for that. They know they’re small town in a large
metropolis and they don’t lose sight of that. Thank goodness they’re that
intelligent.
To
be city chic doesn’t mean to be cruel, cynical and trendy hipsters with a chip
on their shoulders. To be urban chic means that you care because it keeps the
city running and a little bit of money in everyone’s pockets.
Crystal
really has it together when it comes to cultural improvements and treating
their patrons’ right. They inspire me to become a better person.
Crystal
could become a serious shopping Mecca, not because of its location or its
businesses but more so because of what it truly has to offer; it’s urban /
suburban savvy city working folk.
We’re
all in this together so there’s no reason to ever be mean to others because
we’re all saving our pennies and doing our best for our families.
We
almost purchased a home in Crystal. Bummer. Crystal is coming up in the world.
Keep up the fantastic work.
Note:
Thanks for returning our coffee.
On
Saturday, I purchased Hazelnut Vanilla coffee at Crystal Target but forgot it
at the counter and when Eric went back yesterday with the receipt, one of their
staff knew all about it and returned the forgotten coffee. (Thank you.)
Coffee’s so darn expensive and for the most part it’s considered ‘blood money’
in the rest of the third worlds. We’re
grateful as always.
Now,
we’ve got breakfast plans and our last tip of the year.
Note:
Please don’t forget to place at least ‘thank you’ notes in your mailboxes to
our postal workers. A ‘thank you’ note goes a long way.
Thursday, January 2,
2014
Happy New Year’s!
See you Thursday, January 2nd,
2014.
"Auld
Lang Syne"
Should Old Acquaintance be forgot,
and never thought upon;
The flames of Love extinguished,
and fully past and gone:
Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold,
that loving Breast of thine;
That thou canst never once reflect
On Old long syne.
CHORUS:
On Old long
syne my Jo,
On Old long syne,
That thou canst never once reflect,
On Old long syne.
I love this song; it reminds me of all the decades spent with
our family in Weehawken, N.J. and SoHo, Manhattan.
We’ve travelled back-and-forth on the Lincoln
Tunnel and eaten more Italian and Chinese food then it’s possible because it’s
not the same in Minnesota.
It brings back so many lovely memories of
walking around the city and taking in the sights. I have so many fond memories
of living and docking in the Manhattan Harbor for years. I love that town
because our family is there to this day “painting the town red.”
My Roseville, Minnesota, serious, no bullshit
cousin works for Columbia and graduated from Columbia. We’re so proud that she
made roots in Manhattan all these twenty years later. What a force to be
reckoned with. She’s ever so lovely and we just think the world of her and the
rest of our family who rule the art world there.
Peace;
Gabriel
Friday, December 20,
2013
“Wisdom is like fire;
a little enlightens, much of it can burn.”
“In seeking wisdom,
the first step is silence,
the second listening,
the third remembering,
the fourth practicing,
the fifth--teaching others.”
“We may add to the sacred from the profane.”
“After a holiday, only debts and dirty dishes
remain.”
“There is no greater honor than to stay at
home.”
“Anger in a home is like rottenness in
fruit.”
“Woe to the house
that serves to carry
the load of a whole family’s quarrels.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Specious (apparently just or correct, actually not
so)
He can give the most specious excuses
for his absences.
---
--- ---
Happy Holidays!
Merry Christmas!
Happy New Year’s!
Well,
the year 2013 flew by in the blink of an
eye.
I
have to say that it was one of my best years ever.
It was for the most part calm, productive,
intelligent, kind, respectful, eventually prosperous and happy.
I very seldom had people lie to me or
manipulatively coarse me into free volunteer film work or any volunteer work of
any type.
No, I didn’t go out of my way to lie to
anyone because I didn’t feel neither inadequate nor did I need to ‘save face’
for others.
Although, I told a careless lie (my
sixteenth) last December 2012 and that kept me ‘in check’ for the rest of 2013
because I felt so bad about what I had done therefore for most of 2013 I
‘pulled back on the reins’ and kept my ego in check and my tongue from
slipping.
I had no reason whatsoever to lie to anyone
about anything this year because I kept in supreme and great company with
people who communicate in a respectful and direct and straight forward manner.
For the most part I stayed away from social drunken beggars
and the ‘great unwashed.’
I got real wise to them and as
far away as possible because I’m neither like them nor do I care to be like
them.
Goodbye, childhood, adolescence, teen years
and early naïve adulthood.
I proved that I’m neither a drunkard nor a
desperate junkie nor a raving lunatic with malevolent intentions towards
others.
My
documentary filmmaking career is over as of this year and it’s been the
greatest decision of my life.
After thirteen continuous and straight years
of documentary filmmaking, I retired at the age of thirty-six and it’s because
I can afford to do so, thus on and onwards with life!
We’ve proven that we can produce professional
low-budget / feature-length documentary films on peanut butter and jam budgets.
(Ha! How fabulous!)
We’ve donated over two-hundred and
twenty-thousand dollars worth ($220,000) in our efforts to donate educational
documentary films to the Twin Cities ever since 2004.
We proved to the world ‘everything’ that we
set out to do on our own and we accomplished it.
We thank the world for their support,
especially, the Danish People who bought fifteen-thousand copies (15,000) of
our one feature-length documentary film in 2007-2008 distributed through our
website at that time.
That’s how it all began, towards our monetary ‘early retirement’ from
public documentary filmmaking.
I
shan’t ever make another public documentary film, other, than in a soundstage
and in a locked down set. It’s best that
way.
If producers want to film motion pictures out in the field then it’s because
they’re ‘cheapskates’ and willing to place their cast and crew in dangerous
locations.
I’m over dangerous.
I’m too old for dangerous.
I’m a teacup.
Fragile.
Yes, I finished my screenwriting quota for
the year.
Yes, my screenplays are ‘God awful.’ Yes, I
do write with certain actors in mind because it makes it easier to write for
specific persons with certain physical attributes.
No, I shan’t send my screenplays off to anyone.
Are you kidding me, bad-is-bad and they certainly are terrible. I’ll need
another decade or more to get it right. I keep working at it, that’s all one
can hope for.
It’s
as if a huge load has been lifted from my shoulders when we made the decision to
move on to greener pastures because documentary filmmaking was a complete waste
of my time, talents, and skill set.
Thank the Gods, I shan’t have to make another
bloody documentary ever again for as long as I live unless I want to but don’t
hold your breaths.
I allowed myself to get ‘used’ in that line
of work by way, too, many time suckers because they always thought that I was either like them, wasting time or some
type of ‘savior’ or someone to bring them ‘fame and fortune.’ (Ha! Now, that’s
hilarious!)
Documentary films neither make any real money, not like major motion
pictures do, anyway, nor do they bring about fame and fortune even if they are truly successful most people
forget, just as well.
Most independent documentary films are
horribly made by people who think they’re going to ‘make it big’ because their
vision is better than those of us who dropped one hundred grand or more in film
school but really the audience just gets a lot of badly made incomplete amateur
videos with lots of plagiaristic elements when people haven’t studied any
cinema history, construction, ethics or philosophy and the principles of film
cinema in general like film analysis or harsh critiques from Doctorate
Professors in the academic realm of cinema studies and production.
We’ve worked for it and it shows.
We’ve respect the realm of cinema and ‘paid
our dues.’
There
was no drug abuse even though doctors prescribed me about seven or eight
prescriptions of Oxycodone in a two month span (August-September 2013) which I
had recycled at a medical lab and lived without the use of it even though by
August, I lived with constant and severe pain of the abdominal from four
growing benign tumors that were removed in September 2013 by means of da Vinci
operation.
We took care of many of my physical ailments
and made it out with smiles and laughter. There was no screaming, yelling,
fights or disagreements. I made it into my mature adulthood and earned a place
at the table with other established and advanced adults.
Eric turned fifty in November and is
handsome, kind and
Generous
as ever and healthier and happy to be a property owner
(for
the first complete year) and a proud Father to our canine
bambino
whom we adore and couldn’t live without ‘His Royal
Highness.’
(He’s a very snobby 'Bichon Frise' / ‘Yorkshire-Terrier’
mix.)
I’m grateful to be one year out of the gates
and into my Maya ‘modern’ adulthood without any mental disorders or illnesses,
in great physical form and grateful to be alive and in great company.
The
2013 fiscal year started out somewhat tight but by the end of the year, we more
than made up for tightened belts. It more than paid off to have patience and
live well below our means as we always do because that's just the way we run
our household budgets.
Last year, Eric took me out of the Stone Age
and into online banking so our lives are finally glorious.
There’re no negative discussions,
miscommunication or disagreements about money ever anymore and I’ve allowed for Eric to handle all of our money.
He’s done a better job than I ever did in
seven years of running our household accounts. I love it that Eric has taken a
hold of the financial reigns and he runs our financial accounts.
I trust Eric implicitly with all of my heart,
life and soul therefore I have no qualms in doing so. Its fun to be an ‘old
fashion’ Lady and not have to deal with any money.
If I don’t want to deal with money then Eric
does all the thinking about that and I don’t have to concern myself with any of
it.
It’s been a huge load of my back and Eric’s
better at handling our finances than I ever was only because I’m a “penny
pincher” while Eric isn’t. (Ha!)
Our
marriage is better now than it’s ever been before in the past eight years.
Not sharing walls with alcoholic, mad, angry
and control-freakish neighbors has made all the world of a difference. Our
lives changed completely once we purchased our first property in the city.
We’ve always loved each other but this year
we hit our stride and all that matters is that our little family is warm and
safe, together.
I love Eric as I’ve not ever loved another
and that makes a difference because marriage is a long distance marathon and
not a short sprint.
We take one day at a time and laugh as much
as possible when we’re together although our time is limited and that’s a
bummer. We work, too, much.
We
didn’t know there could be so much love to go around after we rescued our
Freeway, our little doggie with serious abandonment issues and separation
anxiety.
We’ve been a little family for about five
months and still settling into a life together and it’s been so much fun to get
to know the little fellow and bestow unconditional love towards him even though
he’s chewed my shoes and clawed at furnishings and doorframes that will need to
be replaced in the new year.
I’ve
falling into stride with my own nature and I love birth control because it’s
been a life saver after discovering two cysts in my ovaries this year, this
September.
Nope, I’m not getting, too, personal.
My purpose, intent and goal in writing like
this is to hopefully help shed more light about women’s health and hopefully my
courage may encourage other women to feel secure and strong in their medical
journeys as mine had been so horrible for so long.
I’ve finally matured and hardly ever get acne
or outwardly angry anymore which is a blessing to me and my looks.
I like the adult woman that I’ve become just
one short year into my full mature Maya adulthood. I’ve entered an entirely new
stage in my life and it’s ever so refreshing and inspiring.
I’m becoming a better Human than I ever
thought I could and on birth control I’m ‘cool as a cucumber.’ I needed the
medication to regulate my hormones and the cysts in my ovaries otherwise I live
in sheer and cruel pain and I’m ever so tired of physical pain in my life
because it makes me really crabby.
I’m
grateful as ever to have arrived at this place in life. I’m a lucky dog. I’m loved and respected by so
many incredible and honest people and that makes a tremendous difference in
life.
I’ve turned my back on horrible, nasty,
abusive, bragging, begging dry and drunk alcoholics and I’ve never been happier in my life than I was
this past year.
I’m lucky to be smart and learn from
mistakes. I stopped giving my life away to people who hated me more than my
real enemies.
I’ve
made two new friendships with two incredibly respectful, kind, intelligent,
successful, beautiful and healthy and tremendous women in the Twin Cities.
We’ve kept our friendships a secret for the most part, not from our families
but from acquaintances.
I’m ever so lucky to have met and gotten to
know such beautiful women over the past year. I feel like I can make a home,
here, finally.
I belong to this flat and stolen Native
American land.
This year I decided to stay, live and
contribute to the Twin Cities until my full retirement at the age of seventy.
I’ve made a partial early retirement in my
career but when I retire at seventy then I have tremendous decisions to make
about my heath and the weather. Anything can go at that time.
For now, I’ll contribute in any positive way
possible to get the Twin Cities out of its ghetto tendencies, jealousies,
envious natures, racism and discrimination and corporate greediness to create
inclusiveness and caring tenderness for those who labor so hard to make these
Twin Cities run but hardly ever reap the rewards of their hard work.
I’m happy and calm and that’s all a woman can
ever really hope for.
Eric
and I have yet to play a game of chess to decide to stay in our current
neighborhood or not.
What I do love about this neighborhood is how
quiet and peaceful and safe it truly is other than our black neighbors who
scream at top octave on a weekly basis and that contributes to a low-quality of
life as a writer who wants and desires to write from home.
We live on Sugar Plum Lane.
Our home and land are remarkable and
incredible.
Our humble abode and surrounding beauty makes
me realize how much I love everything
about this stolen Native American land.
I love the land, the quiet and clean and for
the most part the safety of our streets other than the bi-racial (black and
white) screaming children who are emotionally starved thus they require to
attract unnecessary attention to themselves because they lead ‘a life of quiet
desperation’ and that can only leave youth in a difficult place to lead lives
of low self-esteem and poor resources.
If we decide to stay (which I don’t want to
but Eric does) then we’ll fight for this house, this land, this neighborhood,
this community, this city, this state, this country, however, some things have
to change because shopping here is like entering a chauvinistic era of the
early 1990’s.
This place got stuck in a time warp and in
some dusty and forgotten culture even though it’s only five miles away from
downtown, Minneapolis.
I love the trees and the plants and the
wildlife here.
I’m warming up to the people but not much.
I like the neighbors that we’ve gotten to
know through book club.
I adore their dogs and their genuine kindness
and love for this street and this community and this city. They sure are an
upstanding group of citizens who care what happens to this community and they
inspire me to care even though I could pack up everything and leave tomorrow.
We wish you peace, love, understanding and
patience.
Happy New Year’s!
See you Thursday, January 2nd,
2014.
With love;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,644
“Elders” are: Native Peoples who are part of
official Councils and establish and maintain the ethical and moral values and
boundaries of any Native communities by means of Tribal Council.
“Elderly” are: old people and sometimes not
very ethical or moral.
“Plastic medicine men” are: white people who
pretend to know Native medicine practices for the exchange of money which is
not normal to real Native American practices. These are new age creepy and
scary and crazy liars who make up practices to suck young people as young as
fourteen into sexual practices or steal their money.
“Plastic Shamans” are: the same a “plastic
medicine men.”
“Shaman” word is: an empty and shallow word
that Native Americans don’t use but white and black English speakers do thus I
do it for their interpretation but I’ve known better for years.
No, I’m not a Healer or a Medicine Man or an
Elder.
I’m a modern Maya scribe.
No, I don’t pretend to be anything that I’m
not.
Note: most medicine men will neither go
around advertising or announcing that they are medicine men nor do they have to
or need to because most tribe members already know who he or she is due to
their decades of study and practice in their particular field. It takes a
lifetime to become a medicine man.
I’d suggest for all of those sad and lonely
new agers seeking spirituality to look inward and towards their own heritage
and lineage and Ancestors otherwise they’re considered imposters by most
Natives because medicine practiced is something that ought to be done with the
intent, the purpose and the wisdom of each race’s own Ancestors.
It’s just that whites and blacks don’t really
know about their lost histories thus they like to steal others’ history to make
themselves feel special but many that I’ve met are over sexed and cunning and
manipulative and creepy thus stay as far away from such crazy and lost souls
who refuse to seek refuge among their own Ancestors and that can only mean bad
luck for them.
You’re Ancestors see everything you do and
they know if you’re not true to oneself. You’ve got your Ancestors to answer
to. Careful.
Thursday, December
19, 2013
“One coin in a bottle rattles;
the bottle filled with coins makes no sound.”
“Both the boastful and the fool don’t know
the proper time for silence.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Stilted (Stiffly formal, pompous)
His style is too stilted ever to win
him fame.
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--- ---
To
our dearest Persian (Iranian) Brothers and Sisters;
The
American People think fondly upon you tonight.
We think the world of you.
We wish you peace, prosperity and respect in
your daily lives.
We wish you great health, patience and
unconditional agape love among your beloved ones and family members. May the
members of your communities have enough to eat and drink. May your leadership
look out for the ‘best interest’ of your beautiful People.
We,
the American People don’t want to enter into another war, much less, a war with
the Persian People because that would mean further military disaster all around for everyone involved and Americans have had enough of war disaster,
bloodshed and misappropriated funds.
The American People no longer want to
volunteer their Sons and Daughters to the politicians’ wars because Our
children come home in body bags thus wasting precious natural resources to get
our ghetto-filled country up and running from
the ashes of its own ‘death.’
I
come to you in peace and would like to share with you that many of our leaders in Congress have abandoned Our people therefore
Congress persons aren’t the best representation for The American People, who,
denounce any further wars against the Middle East and even though some of our Congress people are blood
thirty and hungry for war it’s because of their vastly empty beliefs in the ego
rather than their strong and peaceful Judeo-Christian God (singular) in the
form of bread and wine.
Please,
I ask you to “forgive them for they know not what they do.” Forgive them for
their ignorance, arrogance and thirst for blood and despicable acts of war,
killing and murder all in the name of oil.
The
American People want to stop these sanctions against you, our dearest Persian
Brothers and Sisters.
We
only hope that peace and diplomacy shall prevail in such difficult and ignorant
times such as Our defective and dysfunctional broken Congress and their hatred
for Humanity.
We love you;
Gabriela
-----------------------
به عزیزترین
ما فارسی (
ایران )
برادران و
خواهران .
مردم آمریکا
فکر می کنم از
روی علاقه بر
شما امشب .
ما فکر می
کنیم جهان از
شما .
ما برای شما
آرزو صلح،
رفاه و احترام
در زندگی
روزمره خود را
.
ما برای شما
آرزو بهداشتی
بزرگ، صبر و
عشق شگفت بی
قید و شرط در
میان عزیزان
خود و اعضای
خانواده .
ممکن است
اعضای جوامع
خود را به
اندازه کافی
برای خوردن و
نوشیدن . ممکن
است رهبری خود
را نگاه کردن
برای بهترین
بهره را از
مردم زیبا خود
را .
ما ، مردم
آمریکا نمی
خواهید برای
ورود به یک جنگ
دیگر ، بسیار
کمتر ، به جنگ
با مردم فارسی
چرا که فاجعه
بیشتر نظامی
برای همه
درگیر و آمریکایی
ها به اندازه
کافی از فاجعه
جنگ، خونریزی
و وجوه اختلاس
داشته اند به
معنای تمام در
اطراف.
مردم آمریکا
دیگر نمی
خواهید به
داوطلب پسران
و دختران خود
را به
سیاستمداران
مرگ ' جنگ به دلیل
فرزندان ما در
خانه در کیسه
های بدن در نتیجه
به هدر رفتن
منابع
ارزشمند
طبیعی برای به
دست آوردن
کشور محله
یهودی نشین
است نه ما و در
حال اجرا از
خاکستر خود را
می آیند ' . '
من در صلح و
آرامش را به
شما می آیند و
می خواهم برای
به اشتراک
گذاشتن با شما
که بسیاری از
رهبران ما در
کنگره مردم ما
را ترک کرده
اند در نتیجه
افراد کنگره
هستند که
بهترین
نمایندگی برای
مردم آمریکا ،
که ، تقبیح هر
گونه جنگ های
بیشتر علیه
شرق میانه و
حتی هر چند
برخی از افراد
کنگره ما سی
خون و گرسنه
برای جنگ آن
را به دلیل
عقاید بسیار
خالی خود را
در خود جای
قوی و صلح
آمیز خود را
یهودی، مسیحی
خدا ( منحصر به
فرد ) به شکل
نان و شراب .
لطفا ، من از
شما به " آنها
را ببخش چرا
که نمی دانند
آنچه انجام می
دهند . " آنها
را برای جهل ،
تکبر و تشنگی
خود را برای
خون و اقدامات
نفرت از جنگ
آنها را ببخش،
کشتن و قتل
همه به نام
نفت است.
مردم آمریکا
می خواهند
برای جلوگیری
از این تحریم
ها بر علیه
شما ،
عزیزترین
برادران فارسی
ما و خواهران .
ما فقط
امیدواریم که
صلح و دیپلماسی
باید در چنین
شرایط دشوار و
نادان مانند
ما معیوب و
ناکارآمد
شکسته کنگره و
نفرت خود را
برای بشریت
وجود دارد.
ما شما را
دوست دارم .
گابریلا
----------------------
P.S. Yes, I underwent a spiritual Indigenous
ritual in which one deeply understands why one sticks-out one’s tongue;
hopefully, to ward off evil spirits, however, one, doesn’t want it (the sticking of one’s tongue out) to
backfire upon one’s rear end just like burning sage is an offering and that
sacred ceremony has to be done to perfection otherwise when one uses sage as a
‘disinfectant’ then one is attracting evil spirits instead of repelling them.
Look; Indigenous and Native American rituals are
sacred because there’s a purpose and a specific intent behind them going back
thousands of years and if you fall for the new age bullshit then you’ll end up
‘shooting yourselves in the foot’ and that can only mean the following; pain,
hurt, disappointment and delusion.
*) My hands are in pain. I must stop here;
however, I’m anything but defeated. I’m strong and I shall makeup the writing
some other time when my hands permit such grace.
Word Count: 494
Wednesday, December
18, 2013
“Not to teach your son to work is like
teaching him to steal.”
“If each one sweeps in front of his own door
the whole street is clean.”
“We forget blows, but not words.”
“Doctors have a cure for everything but
poverty.”
“Poverty is no disgrace, but it’s no great
honor, either.”
“To be patient can be better than being
rich.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Askance (with a sideglance of disapproval)
She looked at her shallow acquaintance askance.
Brilliant (luminous, radiant, dazzling, sparkling,
gleaming, shining, bright)
---
--- ---
Part I
My terribly weird day
I
had a terrible day up until 3:00 p.m. this afternoon.
At
around 9:30 a.m. this morning, I ran out to a local store in our downtown
neighborhood to purchase wrapping paper and left with the need to punch
something hard.
I
had a feeling that I shouldn’t shop
there but because of the convenience and the time crunch I overlooked all of my
‘warning signals’ and went anyway.
When I walked through the sliding doors,
something inside my gut told me to get out of there as quickly as possible, I
overlooked my gut instinct.
After
carefully going over the tissue paper isle and the gift bags in a neatly and
clean row, I approached the counter without any preconceived notions about what
was to occur next.
An older gentleman stood and spoke at length
to the cashier by the name of _____.
In a semi-loud voice she announced to anyone
who’d listen that the man at the counter was ninety years old.
I smiled a wide brim smile at her because it
was such an honor to stand in line amongst an elderly man. (I didn’t say a word.)
The
supposed ninety year old man continued to speak to the cashier when she finally
interrupted him and informed him that she needed to attend to the following
customer waiting in line.
He took one step to his right and continued
to speak to the cashier.
I should’ve known better.
The woman in front of me and the cashier made
a quick transaction, spoke niceties to one another and wrapped it up.
It
became my turn to move forward and right up to the counter, so I did. There was
no one behind me.
I set down my gift wrapping items and the man
next to me continued to speak to anyone who’d listen to him. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Right
there and then, I should’ve thanked
the woman for her inconvenience and patience, told her, that I’d decided not to
purchase anything at that time and left immediately, but no, my feet were
firmly planted to the cement floor and frozen, there, for all of eternity, when
all I wanted to do was run.
The cashier spoke and said, quote, “I’m German. We talk a lot.” She
let out a small high pitched laughter. (I smiled out of politeness.)
“Yes,
I’m also German. We talk a lot,” said the gentleman dressed in ‘old man attire’
of the late 1960’s ready for a Brit walk around the park in his old man cap and
tan overcoat.
The man continued to speak into my right ear
while he looked at the cashier… and suddenly my hearing became sharp and I hung
onto each and every single word
spoken for the next few seconds.
“We
went to Guam, Germany… Where did that get us? Nowhere. Except having them come
here and tell us what to do,” he sharply spoke. (Quote.)
I
found myself at a bitter low-grade lecture.
The
cashier nodded and vehemently agreed with him.
“Hitler
was brilliant he just went about it the wrong way,” he said. (Quote.)
I
was so astonished by his words that all I could do was agree with the man,
“Yes, Hitler was brilliant,” I said.
Immediately my cheeks turned hot and I smiled
because I wasn’t about to go into an ethical debate about the pros-and-cons of
Hitler.
‘How did I end up in such a terrible
conversation,’ I asked myself.
“Yes,”
piped in the cashier with pep, “Hitler was brilliant.” (Quote.) (I’m not making it up.)
She
further said, quote, “I think,” she
gazed down at the counter, “Hitler was Brilliant,” and laughed again in a high
pitched toned octave as if to almost swathe away her own beliefs. (Quote.)
[I’ve been taught by psychologists that when
approaching or dealing with people with sub-par logic and reasoning skills to
amuse them and agree to everything
they say so that a) their egos are stroked and they don’t become offended or
threatened by the intellectual capacity of others b) to get out of the
situation as quickly as possible without getting scathed or harmed by
neurotics, the uneducated or haters.]
I
complied with their point of view and held my tongue because, both, he and the
cashier are dying generations with viewpoints that are as full of malarkey as
anything without logic and reason are.
Let’s put it to bed; No, Hitler wasn’t
‘brilliant.’
If
you ever want to debate that with me then I’ll smoke your socks off.
Look; Hitler was a manic, raging,
lunatic, egotist, megalomaniacal crazy man, mass murderer, narcissist, conman
who swallowed more amphetamines to kill a
small horse and thirty-thousand Jews.
Hitler had a loose screw bopping up-and-down
inside his brain.
Hitler was insane to put it mildly.
Hitler was a maniacal liar.
Hitler was a charismatic propagandist.
Hitler was anything but ‘brilliant’ and
anyone who tells you differently has a loose screw in their light socket as
well.
Hitler was a mass murderer and that
automatically takes him out of the running for brilliance.
Hitler was a crazy scientist geneticist.
Hitler was a closeted homosexual.
Hitler was a Jew.
Hitler was a man with a ‘small man complex.’
Hitler was a failed artist.
Hitler was a failed painter.
Hitler was many things but he wasn’t
‘brilliant.’
I
arrived home crabby, annoyed and angry.
I
told Eric what had occurred.
He
listened and when I was done, he went into the bedroom, picked up his phone and
called the store, spoke to a manager who’d heard part of that conversation and
asked Eric to come into the store for a twenty dollar spending card.
Before we headed downtown, Minneapolis we
stopped back into the store. Eric did as he was told, went to the back of the
store to the pharmacy area and asked for the manager by name ______.
The manager told Eric that she’d spoken to
her subordinate and that her subordinate had told the manager that, “‘She
wasn’t part of that conversation.’”
Now,
the only aspect about the entire event that made me angrier than a ‘mama bear’
is that the cashier implied that I’d lied about her quotes. As if. I’ve got a photogenic memory and
I can recall verbatim what people say even if it’s years later.
I’d
testify under oath and subpoena in any court of law that she was indeed part of
that conversation because it began and ended with her.
She
made me out to be a liar without me ever so much as uttering a single lie. What
a disgrace. What a…
No,
I don’t want to see this woman fired from her work.
I
simply don’t want to hear about Hitler and how ‘brilliant’ he was when I go
shopping for tissue paper.
Hitler
is one of those topics that ought not to be uttered in mixed company among
strangers just like work and one’s ego.
You
can speak to your closest friends about anything
and I mean anything such as your work
and whatever, but when it comes to Hitler I’d suggest don’t even go there with
strangers because you never know who you’re talking to, like the descendants of
Holocaust survivors.
I
don’t want to remind you that I come from a Jewish family.
I
don’t want to remind you that our family members lived through the war and the
atrocities of the Holocaust.
I
don’t want to remind you that Hitler mutilated my family members.
I
don’t want to remind you that my family members got hollowed out by Hitler and
scarred for life.
I
don’t want to remind you that Hitler stole the lives of our family members.
No,
I’m not going to get into it but Hitler was a raving lunatic.
Hitler
was dull.
-----------
Part II
The
Ortho was late by forty-five minutes and saw me for seven minutes. He had lunch
on his breath and I almost lost my lunch.
He prescribed six weeks of physical therapy
which is bullshit because ‘anyone’ in the medical field will tell you that
physical therapy is all about insurance claims.
I’m in severe pain.
The pain in my hands is so bad I can barely
hold a tooth brush, comb my hair or open a jar of sauce. I can barely cook,
type or hygiene.
I need immediate serious and empathetic
medical expertise.
I need immediate relief from my pain.
I felt mocked by my specialist visit today
and on top of that ‘our out of pocket co-pay’ just went up to $45.00 this year.
What highway robbery this medical field and nation is all about. What a
disgrace to play with The People’s healthcare.
No cortisone shots today.
I can barely close my hands tonight.
I’ve scheduled a second opinion with another
doctor in Edina.
I’ve seen her before (Dr. _._._. amazing for
a Caucasian doctor) and she’s brilliant therefore I ought to have stuck with
her.
When I made the appointment for today I knew
that I shouldn’t.
Something inside me told me to go to a
different clinic but it was so damn convenient and hence there lies the
problem.
Peace;
Gabriel
Word count: 1,540
Tuesday, December 17,
2013
“The blind like to hear tales of wonder.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Inscrutable
(incapable of being searched into and understood)
The inscrutable countenance of a good
poker player helps him win the game.
--- --- ---
Yes, corrections were made.
---
--- ---
On
Saturday, December 14th, 2013 at 9:30 a.m. we ventured out in the
aftermath of a snowstorm and attended the Maya Exhibit at the Minnesota Science
Museum in St. Paul and it was a blast.
When we got there, we first attended an
Omni-screening of a short historical film about Our Ancient Maya and I was
brought to two quiet tears by the end of the film.
I
know much about Our Ancient Maya history quite well and I’m lucky in that
regard, however, it was the visual moving images that ‘plucked at my heart’s
strings’ and made me realize the tremendous consideration that the Roman
Catholic Church had done the same atrocity to our Tribes as the Nazis had done
to Germany in WWII by burning precious volumes and books.
Yes,
I burn books when there’re lies in them and I have absolutely no qualms in
doing so.
This past fall I burned “Three Cups of Tea”
and other books that had blatantly lied to the public and passed off as
nonfiction or as the truth.
With ‘smoke signals’ I send prayers to the
Maya Ancient Gods in the form of the spiritual realm to correct what was
wronged through the literary writings of hacks, imposters and posers.
Writing is the most sacred form of
communication from Our Ancient Maya Ancestors who were given the gift, the
talent and the ability to set spoken words into letters.
Anybody can ‘learn a tune by ear’ but not anyone can
learn their letters by simply reciting them back otherwise it becomes a
linguistic recital and not writing.
One must grasp the intimate and complex
knowledge and the intricacies in setting thoughts into motion by ink and
papyrus.
The
exhibit was not only beautifully well laid out and lit but also the museum
staff were professional, informative and capable of answering and divulging far
more information than just the basics to those particular patrons who asked.
Yes, I eaves dropped on other People’s
questions and I loved all of their questions, they were quite endearing.
I fell, ‘head-over-heels in love’ with the
Minnesotans right there-and-then for having the courage to ask questions and
the will to attend such an exhibit.
It was obvious that the museum’s staff had
done their homework and their studying up. They were ‘cool as cucumbers.’
I was not only proud of the museum staff but
also thankful that they got their information correct because so much of the
Indigenous and Our theological, cultural and racial freedoms rely upon the
world better understanding us.
If
you don’t understand this about Our Modern Maya then do so; we’re a race of
Indigenous Humans who aren’t
perceived as equals throughout Latin America.
Now, I won’t get into the deeply seeded
discrimination, racism and hatred for Our Indigenous of Central and South
America. (If you don’t know then do study up.) The struggle continues.
Our modern and racial persecution is one of
complexity, heart break and difficulties because we’re still somehow thought of
as ‘nothing’ and that nothingness was established long ago by the Roman
Catholic Church and its Conquistadores.
Weird, how hardly anything much changes over
a long period of time like Indigenous and Native American discrimination.
The darker one’s skin then the lesser is
thought of us.
Our modern racial and cultural plight is no
different than that of the Modern Native Americans’ plight here in Minnesota
and the entire United States of America like Hawaii.
(Don’t think that I don’t know because I’ve
cruised around the block many times on my skateboard. I’m aware of how
misunderstood and hated the Native American is, in North America while trapped
in their ghetto-reservations, their women are raped and murdered and their
children are raped, today. The numbers are staggering.)
Our plight is a racial one, while the plight
of the Native American are an alcoholic and impoverish implosion or at least I
speak from my ever humble observations.
The plight of the Native American is that
they got left to die off in ghetto-reservations to be forgotten for all of time
and dust-to-dust.
The
reason as to why this Maya exhibit is ever so vital to the social, economic and
modern survival of the Maya is because we
aren’t considered equals in most of Our homelands.
Oh, I ran out of time… More tomorrow or
later.
---
--- ---
*) Note: As
far as the ‘KARE 11’ terrible website template is concerned our friends have informed us that the
‘suits upstairs’ don’t know any better, therefore all they hear is “Java” and
they think that it’s ‘hot excrement,’ poor little ‘ignorant’ souls; forgive them for they know not what they do.
‘Java script’ is the mean, corrupt and big
fat, fast food cousin in the web design world. ‘It’ sounds good but its all clogged arteries. It moves slowly,
it’s full of lard and constipated.
Java’s full of excrement.
Only lazy website designers sell it to their
‘ignorant’ clients because then it means that designers don’t have to ‘work for it’ but the little secret that they won’t
let their clients in on is that ‘java
script’ is one of the easiest programs to ‘hack into.’
I’ll stand on the fifth in any court of law about the following:
(A
group of engineers showed me how easy it was to ‘hack into’ such ‘Java’ websites and I almost fell
over.
Professional e-mails and internal business
affairs can be ‘hacked into’ any
website especially through ‘Java.’
‘Java script’ is an invitation to anyone off
the street to just come on, right in, through the front door and steal anything
they’d like.
I never knew.
No, we didn’t look through anything at all.
The engineers simply showed me that it
could be done and I was so saddened that someone had sold the ‘suits’
garbage.)
[I
know, some of you guys think that I’m
a bitch but really I care what
happens to this town and its People.
Sometimes, knowledge comes at a price and
that’s a price that I’m willing to pay because I think that the ‘greater good’
is more valuable than any single individual.
If I have knowledge then I’ll pass it along
to you guys, because I care, however, don’t expect it in a handheld basket. I’m
neither “Little Red Riding Hood” nor a little girl.
I speak and write in much of the same fashion
that Elite private New England Country Club golfing men and Republican
corporate W.A.S.P.’s taught me to directly communicate in business therefore I
am.]
It’s been explained to me that ‘suits’ like
to use ‘java script’ because it looks and
sounds good but it’s poor quality and it’s bound to become a huge security
breach.
Take our website for example; (no, it’s nothing special to look at other
than its custom-made like the best English suits in the world are. Classy and
sophisticate. Intelligent.)
Yes, it cost ‘big bucks’ to have this website
‘engineered from scratch’ but the trick is that it doesn’t even look like it
cost many dollars because we made sure that it looks simple enough for even
Grandmothers to navigate the site without having it ‘crash’ on them every five
seconds because we knew that they would find that exasperating and we didn’t
want that for our web surfers to have such a negative experience. We wanted
them to ride those waves without interruptions and it’s been worth our every
cent.
Our website does everything that ‘java’ does
and way more because this program was
written to perfection on html.
The
security on this sucker is Vibranium-iron
alloy, double sealed and encased
in layers of security (we know, because we had actual hacks and engineers try
and ‘hack into’ our site) that’s how the program was written from scratch by
geniuses with I.Q.’s higher than most suits who have no idea what they’re purchasing when it comes to
technology so they get sold garbage instead of lobster, scallops and swordfish.
Suits ‘buy into crap’ from a dumpster because
someone told them that it’s tasty and its recycled material therefore it must
be good for business. How wrong.
Right now, any kid with a computer could
‘hack into’ the KARE 11 website and that’s not good for business because then
it means that they’re playing at business
and that’s just…
Suits think they’re getting a “Jaguar” but
really they got my old rusty and beat-up, navy blue station wagon that a tape
got stuck in the tape player.
The radio didn’t work because of the one tape
that was jammed inside the player and thus I got stuck listening to the
‘Pixies’ for an entire year (1996,) and those glitches can sure make one crabby
as mud when something as small as a tape player doesn’t work properly. (Ha!)
Look; I get
‘bragging rights’ when it comes to this html custom-made website made from scratch (just like the best
bread in the world normally is made) because it took four years to design.
Four years, alone, to design and two years to
build and a moment to upload.
We had vision, passion and care to give you
something worth your time because we neither cared to spy on your shopping and
spending habits nor advertise to you. Nope.
We just wanted to make sure that you felt
Humane and that you felt you could grow with us especially when we start
uploading animation films to this baby.
Anyway, you get the point.
This website is homemade scallops dipped in
the finest wines not dumpster dive leftovers sealed in garbage bags with
someone’s tennis shoe print on a bag full of Alfredo pasta. You do know what
Chefs consider anyone who orders Alfredo pasta in any restaurant? Right? Right.
Please.
Peace;
Gabriel
Word count: 1,640
Monday, December 16,
2013
“Better pray for yourself than blame someone
else.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Insidious (full of plots, sly, treacherous)
He proved to be an insidious enemy.
---
--- ---
*) Let’s put it to bed: Personally, I’m glad that Minneapolis ended up with
a new Viking’s football stadium, however, I’m not personally glad that that particular stadium deal was
done underhandedly.
Why would I be happy about corrupt deals?
Why would anyone be happy about corruption?
Remember: judges, attorneys and advocates can be
bought faster than lightening or rapid currents. Purchasing judges, attorneys
and advocates is the easiest play in the playbook.
Personally, we don’t have to pay the hike or
the increase on property taxes so we really
don’t care but we care a great deal about The People of Minneapolis.
Minneapolis taxpayers ‘got left holding the
bag’ and without a referendum vote, there
ought to have been no deal on the table and everybody knows that.
If the ‘big boys’ had nothing to lose then
they would’ve put the stadium deal to a referendum vote and everybody knows that to be true.
The People will know it to be true until the end of time because it’s here in writing for future records just like
the codex held ‘everyday’ life records and events for all of time or at least until most of the codex were burned by
the Roman Catholic Church and their arrogant toddies who’ve raped little kids
since the 2nd century.
In conclusion; let’s all ‘make the peace’ and move on.
[No, not for one single moment did I think that
I controlled that corrupt stadium deal but I sure can write as I see fit
because I’m ‘smart as the dickens.’
I can see through layers of manipulation,
lies and cunning deals made against The People whose voices are silenced and
their votes strike down.
It’s my job as a Maya scribe to write with
intellectual spirituality on my side otherwise I have to make corrections and
that’s always humbling.
I’m willing to humble myself because I’m made
of flesh and bone. I pass bowel movements everyday (without laxatives)
therefore I must humble myself to the nth degree as any wise and silent leader
does.
More importantly, it’s my job not to be naïve and gullible about
modern cunning corruption.]
We all know that the city of Minneapolis and its
constituents had their votes taken away and their voices silenced through this
corrupt stadium deal therefore, foul play.
No matter what anyone may tell you in a dirty
debate that will not change the facts about what happened here.
Now, juicy actions begin; the property
owners, developers, NFL, Stadium owner(s) and the City of Minneapolis ‘have to
make good’ on their promises to bring in
money for the city of Minneapolis, it’s venders, it’s constituents and make
sure that the rich don’t get any more stinking rich while they leave the good
People of Minneapolis to starve while the constituents’ 498 million dollars in
tax revenue was stolen right from under their noses.
I get it, to build a stadium is to build
a ‘cathedral’ and in its place it might leave The People to starve because 498
million wasn’t doled out properly and instead that tax revenue is going to pay
for the building of multi-billionaires’ playgrounds. How annoying indeed. How
corrupt and cruel.
If this football ‘cathedral’ does starve The
People then it’ll go down as the ‘greatest failure on Earth.’
History will
not soon forget the thieving of its People and if it fails, there’s even
more reason to mock it, especially with ink so that this lesson may not ever go
away for as long as any record holds true and steadfast.
No,
no one’s touching this website, not even the N.S.A. because we hold rights that
are serious, constitutional and legal; that’s why there’s a team of attorneys
who counsel us each and every step of the way as the next ‘Kurt Vonnegut’ in the making.
[No, don’t make that face.
For the first time in my life, six weeks ago,
I began reading Kurt Vonnegut’s books.
I’m up to six fully read books, plus all of
my other reading involved, like past-and-present laws.
No, I’d not once read anything by Mr.
Vonnegut until recently within the last month.
I’ve been told that some of my writings are
like his.
I didn’t even know it.
Yes, even though I lived in a house in which
he had lived at the University of Iowa, I not once picked up one of his novels,
until November of 2013 because I was afraid that if I read anything prior to
the age of 35 then I’d try to write like him.
Since I’d not read anything previously then
it proves that I wasn’t trying to be a poser and be like him in any remote
fashion or manner. (Ha! Eat it for late Nordic dinner.)
Yes, I’m still repeating myself. Yes, my
writing is still stale in that way and I’m working on it but it comes with this
English as a Second Language passive rot sentence structure.
Give me another few years and I’ll break that
horrible habit to be redundant.
Don’t think that it doesn’t bother me because
it does.
It slows down the writing structure and
thought pattern. I should write in the early hours of the day instead of at six
at night when I’m so damn tired and English is no longer an option later into
the day.]
Let the games begin!
Let’s
see what money’s got and if money really holds ‘the best interest at heart’ for
The People of Minneapolis or if it’s all just one big scam.
Only time will tell and then it’s ‘open
season’ to write about the truth, in any manner in which writers’ see fit,
however, from dark corrupt deals rises…
Just remember: football’s got about twenty years to ‘milk
it’ and within less than two generations football will be done for because now
that scientific research proves CTE, factually, then no parent ‘in their right
mind’ will allow for their children and youth to become mentally impaired,
injured or harmed for life just
because of some mediocre and incredibly violent extracurricular game that
culturally no one really likes to
begin with, it’s just that it’s all about ‘peer pressure’ and that’s going out
style with anti-bullying laws in the state of Minnesota.
Let this be a lesson not to repeat such
terrible mishaps again.
Let this be a lesson that The People’s vote
does count otherwise it’s no good.
Let this be a lesson that The People will not
be silenced.
Let this be a lesson to The People not to be
such suckers and give away their tax revenue to multi-billionaires and their
playgrounds.
---
--- ---
*) Okay,
is it just me or the ‘KARE 11’s’ website has been changed to some cheapskate
website template?
It’s God awful and I’m not the only one who
thinks so.
As of late, online news is run upon the basis
of some cheap templates that don’t work.
Don’t think that people don’t notice because
they do.
Everybody notices when things are cheap and
ridiculous.
I
can understand why the ‘Moose Lake Star Gazette’ uses a cheap website template
for their smaller circulation but for something as sophisticated as ‘KARE 11,’
you’d have to wonder what cheap hacks passing
off as web designers sold our ‘KARE 11’ cheap stolen goods?
It’s terrible and it crashes our tablets
nonstop.
I can barely bring myself to go to the KARE
11 website and read the news. The layout looks like something a fourth grader
drew with crayons and pooped all over it.
Why does this town like cheap and dumb ideas
that don’t work at all?
Somebody’s ‘making a killing’ on those ugly
templates and if those layouts are ‘original’ work (which they aren’t) then
somebody ought to fire their rear ends for making something so God awful.
Who is behind that swindle? (Don’t answer
that. I’ll pick up the phone and have the answer within minutes.)
I’ve got to speak with our friends who just
happen to be newspaper royalty, to pass
on the word because my word; what
a sham that website turned out to be.
I’ll bet a mango, that for the type of money,
which, KARE 11 spent, they could actually, get a real designer and engineer in
there, who knows what they’re doing and do a fantastic job with that website.
I’ve got to boycott that site only and simply
upon the premise that it crashes nonstop and that’s absolutely a no-no.
Gosh, the outdated and ugly 1990’s website
layout is over.
Get over it.
Get a new job or get some new ideas on design
and construction.
Why does ‘everything’ have to be so ugly and recycled
old ideas in this city that didn’t work in the first place?
---
--- ---
*) Nope,
step back. No, don’t worry about me.
I’ve got low blood pressure.
What about you?
Just because my writing is made from fire, it
doesn’t mean that I’m on fire.
Look; I sleep like a baby.
I’ve got a great apatite. I love to laugh and
nothing much bothers me, but hot writing sure makes for exciting and juicy
reading so there you go.
---
--- ---
*)
We wanted to go to our neighbor’s open house on Sunday afternoon, but as of
this week our dog has taken to the habit of passing bowel movements indoors and
it’s been quite difficult to deal with that.
We were gone a lot last week, especially to
doctors and thus he’s been upset about that. When he’s upset he urinates or
passes bowel movements indoors.
We’re not sure as to what to do about it. We
walk him and take him outside often before leaving the house. We leave him with
chewy toys that have been frozen and with peanut butter inside them or with raw
hides.
Our dog has this nervous tendency in which he
chews on our doorframes and other things like shoes when he’s been home for too
long. It seems as though four hours is the most that we can leave him alone and
then good luck to us.
It’s been a great and tremendous learning
experience for all around. We’re patient, we don’t scream or yell at the puppy
and we simply go about cleaning up his messes with love and understanding.
Something’s got to give when it comes to his
separation anxiety.
Peace;
Gabriel
P.S. Tomorrow, I’ll gush all about the Maya
Exhibit. Every piece of information was basic but factual and that’s why I went
there to see if it was ‘bullet proof’ factual and it was.
If you haven’t already gone to the exhibit
then I suggest that you get a ticket and get going. It’s wonderful and it’ll be
something worth your bucks, dollars, money.
We attended this weekend and I was moved to
the core of my Humanity. Cheers!
Wednesday, I go to the Ortho for my Carpal
Tunnel Syndrome and then we’ll see what happens with this wrist pain. It’s 7:42
p.m. and I better stop here because my wrist is feeling all right and I better
keep it that way.
Word count: 1,858
Friday, December 13,
2013
“A learned bastard stands higher than an
ignorant high priest.”
“If there were fewer swine, there would be
fewer bastards.”
“Most bastards have a just complaint.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Insouciance
(indifferent, lack of concern, carefree)
He assumed the attitude of insouciance
although he was concerned.
---
--- ---
Ooh, Friday the thirteenth.
The Maya consider the number thirteen quite
lucky, indeed.
Happy Friday the thirteenth!
---
--- ---
I
wish you an amazing weekend among beloved ones, great and kind friends and respectful
strangers out in public.
May people be respectful, honest and honorable to your persons.
May you have
respect and politeness on your side for complete and perfect strangers while
out in public.
My Father used to say to me, before leaving the house:
“Remember, you never know who you’re going to meet so be respectful and polite
even if you don’t like the person and have fun.”
Give
me some time to consider what must be done about a vital and economic
professional art scene here in the Twin Cities because I hear there’s very
little money for the professional arts or well developed craft but a lot of
potential for there to be a boom.
I’ll be wise in my approach but I can’t
promise that I’ll hand it over to you in a handheld basket.
I refuse to make posers, hacks and talentless
con-artists money because then it would go against the point to place money
into the pockets of real professional working artists who’ve been working their
asses off for the past thirteen years and have gone absolutely nowhere with
monetary funds.
I’m
being informed that there’s a group of North East artists who are stinking rich
as hell and pretend to be poor, but that’s as far as the wealth’s spread across
the cities while every other artist starves in the Twin Cities. Shame.
I’m
informed that the Twin Cities arts are an ‘incestuous scene’ and it depends on
what couch one ends up with one’s back against it and their legs up in the air,
then that’s how funding is done. What a damn shame to take advantage of people
who have so little to begin with.
I
also hear that there’s a lot of self
‘boasting’ and ‘bragging’ about how great the artists are in the Twin Cities
but they don’t ever have anything to show
for because the more they ‘talk up’ their game, the less they
actually spend time at their craft and that’s all they have; nothing, but only
bragging rights. Yikes. Creepy people. Shame.
If
you’re not working on your craft, every single day for at least six-to-eight
hours per day, then you’re not working at your craft, because that’s what takes
to be a professional working artist.
You’ve got to have something to show for each
and every single day otherwise its methane filled lies. Farts. Hot air.
You can’t go around calling yourself a
‘writer’ unless you write at least 1,000 words each and every single day, (per
work week; 2,000 words really) and I hate to spell it out; one has to have
a way to prove it to an audience.
It’s all about the proof. Isn’t it? And
that’s what chaps most people’s rear ends. Actually, having to work for it
because you have to earn it. You’ve got to feel the burn.
No,
I’m not a part of any ‘scene’ so don’t expect to rub elbows with me anytime
soon.
Gaining an audience with me is more difficult
than setting up an appointment with Her Majesty The Queen or the President of
the United States of America.
That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.
I’m in the study working each and every
single day instead of boasting about how great I am. I’m actually working for
it. If it seems that I’m boastful, well, I’m not.
I’m sharing aspects of my life that I never
wanted you to know about me, but I think that it’s important for you to know
because then you won’t have to wonder why I think and believe as I do.
No,
one isn’t to throw boogers at canvas and call it art, because, shit, I can take a dump and sell it for
lots of dollars but then it wouldn’t be art, would it now?
It would be a mockery to all real visual
artists and I refuse to mock such hardworking individuals.
It would be a novelty to throw a booger on
canvas and let it stick or something grotesque for someone to show off their
dinner guests when they arrive and make them grossed out yet weirdly curious.
Gross.
There are rules to what art is and what art
isn't, believe it or not.
Most definitely there are rules as to what is
‘High Art’ and what isn’t as well as there are ways to measure the development
of one’s craft.
“‘Fuck’ the rules,” you say.
No, don’t ‘fuck’ the rules.
There’s a high bar set and serious
expectations that require to be met in the art world.
If one just happens to be a ‘freak of nature’
and they’re really good at their craft, without ever sweating a day in their
lives for it, then good for them. They’re considered ‘extraordinary’ and that
means that they’re not real to the touch.
If all one wants to do is to make money and
that’s the only goal and purpose to selling art, then by all means, go at it,
but to really care about your craft as one would a baby or a puppy or an elder
is to be real, kind, considerate and human to the touch.
I wish you everything you wish for and more.
You deserve the world, peace, success, respect and love just as anyone else
does.
Go work for it.
No, I’m not anybody’s savior.
Peace as always;
Gabriel
P.S. Oh, we were so bummed to miss out the
screening at Bryant-Lake Bowl last night and bring toys for ‘Toys for Tots.’
Cheers.
We love the Bryant-Lake Bowl for their pizza
and righteous bowling. I love it there and no, I don’t frequent that
establishment to pick up lesbians. (Ha!)
Nope. Guys, it’s very difficult to see me
anywhere in public anymore. We tend to hang out in private scenes with people
we know otherwise we relax at home. Cheers!
Word count: 1,016
Thursday, December
12, 2013
Oh, please don’t make me laugh that hard.
So,
private developers beg and seek for an additional 65 million dollars from the
city of Minneapolis to build a parking ramp? (Go jump in the lake.) As if.
I thought: that there is a cut off to how much could
be swindled out of the city of Minneapolis?
Look; the Viking stadium deal is a
corrupt one in that there was no referendum vote.
Without a referendum vote from The People
then it means that something ‘underhanded’ is going on. (No, it doesn’t take a
brain surgeon to figure that out.)
No
deal.
Absolutely
not.
Go
on, get out of here.
The
Viking’s stadium deal is smelly like Denmark.
Why
should the Minneapolis taxpaying constituents pay for multi-billionaire’s
playgrounds without so much as a referendum vote?
Why
should the Minneapolis taxpaying constituents get stuck holding the bag?
Speculatively speaking; let’s say that
governor Dayton and former mayor R.T. Rybak received a million dollars in
kickbacks for the Viking stadium deal, that’s still a dishonest million.
The
Viking stadium deal wouldn’t be a big deal if the constituents would’ve gotten
their vote and their say, but as far as this is concerned The Voice of The
People has been silenced and there’re mad as hell about that.
What
a bunch of political buffoons.
"Give
‘em hell" and get them the hell out of here.
Believe
that 498 million dollars can go back into The People’s hands instead of
multi-billionaire’s pockets.
We can build this city on The People’s
taxes, alone, otherwise the NFL wouldn’t be here begging for our taxpayer’s
money.
Since the NFL is so wealthy why aren’t they,
instead, begging The People to build them a stadium? What makes the NFL think
that The People want them in the first place?
Why steal food from the mouths of babies?
The People and their representatives have to
believe that they have the power to move ‘Heaven and Earth’ on behalf of The
People.
Minneapolis doesn’t need to fund a football
stadium in order to revitalize and bring success to downtown.
Sink that 400 million into making downtown a
high art zone and they will come from
every corner of the globe because the arts reign supreme in every other country
other than America.
Make it a High Art Mecca and they will come for that, alone, because
art appreciates over time while sports stadiums depreciate.
There’s more value in professional art than
there is in sports and everybody in
the money knows that, however, don’t only pay a few artists and leave everybody
else to starve. Healthcare and competitive wages for our capable and
professional artists and musicians or bust.
Build it and they will come.
I’m here, aren’t I?
I decided to sacrifice a higher quality of
lifestyle in a foreign country to bring prosperity to this area but not
without, first, clearing the slate clean
and putting our business in order.
You’re here, aren’t you?
You gave up dreams just as well as I did to
contribute to our communities and neighborhoods in the Twin Cities area as well
as the state of Minnesota. Together we can do it but enough with the
underhanded deals. They make me bored sick.
I gave up mango juice, hammocks and a slower
pace of life with a heck of a lot kinder and more genuine people than this
place and a dark jungle to sleep in and an ocean to surf in everyday with lots
of sunshine.
I gave up sunshine for weather that makes my
joints hurt almost all winter long. (Sigh.)
I made sacrifices and so have you, so let’s
get this ghetto infested dump of a city out of its misery and clean its arse up
with toilet paper and move on. I’ve got power on my side but I don’t have money
and money is a heck of a lot easier to get than power. Ha! Funny how things
work out, isn’t it?
I gave up everything, I ever wanted for
people that aren’t even that considerate or endearing because I do believe that
this is special and amazing Native American land.
The land is kind even if the people aren’t.
The land calls to me but the culture leaves a
sour taste in my mouth and well, we’ll see what happens by the time I retire. I
may leave here and never return if nothing much changes and just because
everybody’s jealous of everybody else and hates each other it doesn’t mean that
I’m that petty.
I’ll pull all the social stops and ask kindly
for the world to come here, once we’re ready for showcase, but you’ll have to
do the rest.
I’ll require your help and the globe will
believe me because they already believe in what I write and who I say that I am
because I am.
Consider it a gift.
(I get to keep my contacts private.)
Culture trumps corporations any day, hands
down.
Let’s get this house in order.
I’d like to see Minneapolis get its house in
order so just once before I die I can go dance all night long without getting
mugged, sexually harassed, followed, or held at gun point or treated like a
whore in the downtown ‘club’ district.
I love music but I love my body more thus I
stay home and watch old black and white cinema. (Ha!)
And you hate me because I write truths you
hate to think about. As if. I think
you guys are way crueler than I’ve ever been in my lifetime. As if.
Peace;
Gabriel
Word count: 946
Correction; from 500 million to 400 million.
Thursday, December
12, 2013
“All sentences that start with “God forbid”
describe what is possible.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Insulation (nonconducting material, to prevent passage
of electricity)
Be sure that the insulation on the
electric wires is good.
---
--- ---
*) No,
I don’t have anything against development.
No,
I’m not ‘sour grapes.’
(Why do
you got to be like that?)
(Don’t call me that. (Don’t e-mail me again.)
You don’t know me from a cat stuck up in a tree.) (Ha!)
(Gosh, get your breeches out of your butts
and stop complaining about what you don’t know.)
I’m
quite lovely, actually, with a moral
compass, proper ideal alignment and important ethical values instilled in me.
-----------
No,
I don’t have anything against development.
All
I ask for is that our local governments don’t subsidize multi-millionaires
otherwise the funds that could have
possibly gone towards the local constituents and their public assets then
goes into the pockets of the already immensely rich in the form of profits
hence their projects are completed and up and running.
It’s time for local constituents to realize
that every time multi-billionaire
corporations and multi-millionaire individuals are funded by the local
taxpayers then we can all kiss, goodbye, our public schools, public parks and
recreational areas and other public municipalities that are vital towards the
running of our cities, towns and rural areas, much less without the rich
imposing their political points of view upon local governance just because
they’re rich and think that they get all
the say in the local productivity of business in any city, for that matter.
[Don’t you guys know how this game is played?
Goodness, you’d think you never made it passed the sixth grade.]
Look: by law; corporations are considered
multi-billionaire individuals therefore why would taxpaying constituents put
their hard earned monies into the pockets of multi-billionaires?
Why?
Because most constituents don’t seem to
realize how the corrupt game is played. The game is rigged so get smart about
it.
I’d
rather see cities build their own public parks and public businesses and expand
our cities so that that money can go
directly into further recycled city funds generated throughout the years rather
than make billions of dollars in profits for corporations and
multi-millionaires, that most likely aren’t going to share that wealth with
entire populations in the way in which governments are obligated to do so.
Don’t you want to see cities manage their own
profits and funds that will go back into a recycled bin of monetary goods to
further develop public assets?
If private and public corporations and
private individuals own everything then where does that leave constituents?
Poor.
Why you got to be like that?
Why do you want public funds to go directly into
the pockets of the already ‘insanely’
rich, that don’t have a stake in our communities and who don’t even live in our
cities, year round for that matter? (Gosh, did you get hit on the head with a
hard rock or what?)
I
like the idea of public parking ramps owned by the city of Minneapolis in which
an estimated 1.3 million dollars is profited every three months and it goes
back into crime prevention and clean streets for all to enjoy and as a reward
for our city’s monetary success.
Wouldn’t it be awesome to see that money go
back into a government monetary pool in which the profits benefitted the
constituents instead of a few rich, and I mean, a few.
Look; I’m sick and tired of hearing everybody complain about how ‘the rich
are getting richer’ and ‘the poor are getting poorer,’ but if the constituents
of cities are complete suckers then what do you expect?
Do you really expect for the rich to share
their multi-million dollar profits with you? Please.
A multi-millionaire wouldn’t even buy you lunch, much less invest in
our cities because the ‘nouveau riche’ become ‘raving crazy’ that if
they don’t act miserly about their ever stolen goods then they’re afraid that
they won’t have enough for themselves and their offspring.
The rich are always afraid of losing it all and that’s what makes them misers,
their very fears.
That’s why our children have shitty public
education and crime ridden neighborhoods. Simple
as that. Don’t complain to me about the rich when Minneapolis government
subsidizes the play grounds of multi-billionaires who live in New Jersey, for crying out loud.
Look; by the time a multi-millionaire
has tens of millions of dollars hidden away in Swiss bank accounts, they tend to lose touch with reality (no
matter how ‘nice’ they might seem.)
They become a bit ‘nutty,’ ‘crazy in the
head;’ because that type of wealth creates ego craziness in them so they lose
perspective and wisdom and that’s why they’re constantly in search of wisdom
because they have innately lost touch with their natural source, their core
vibrations and that’s why they get shallow and weird and don’t shower and look
homeless.
Leave them, alone, to choke on their miserly
ways because they’re not about to do you any favors, unless they either (the
rich) feel sorry for you or shame about you or they get brainwashed or they
have a Pollyanna complex, which (good
luck with the fourth option.)
If a multi-millionaire has a Pollyanna
complex then it’s about their ego. It becomes more about a silent control to
have others kiss their rear ends.
A multi-millionaire can’t really ‘give away’ their money, they can only
lend it, because to give it away
implies that you owe them so much more than you’ll ever know; such as your self
respect, pride and honor. (Ouch.)
By the time a multi-millionaire has done one
a favor then all of High Society knows that one is a beggar and will always be perceived as such by high
social standing which it can only imply one thing: one’s social status is at
the bottom of the barrel for life, along with the sediment and the rest of the
gunk and that will not change unless… (But you’ve got to know the social rules,
don’t ya? That’s why I’m prestige and I owe not a single man anything.)
To take a favor from a multi-millionaire is
status quo. Most likely where they set one up is where one will stay and end up
for life and to lose one’s social standing is to give up one’s life links and
safety, per se.
One doesn’t ever want to owe a
multi-millionaire “nothin,’ much less
a favor” because that’s worst than a bank loan. It’s one’s integrity, pride and
adulthood gone right out the window.
It takes one out of the running as a peer in any social group.
Ultimately in the end that leaves one with
nothing for social standing because the entire town knows that one had to beg
for that money without accrued interest. What a pity indeed.
[I’ve
starved but I’ve never begged, not once, and I shan’t begin now. This American life almost killed me and
because I didn’t beg; now, I hold a more crucial quiet leading role and one of
the highest social standings in America amongst High Society as the descendant
of one of the most productive and fair men in this country who fought against
the malarkey of witch hunts and the burning of innocent women who like you were
the ‘common person.’
My ancestors fought for the rights of your
ancestors to live in the pursuit of happiness and that’s worth more than gold.
Yes, monetarily I’m considered ‘middle class’
but socially I’m prestige, itself, and that means that I have the freedom to
meet with anyone from the very top to the very bottom without causing harm to
anyone or to myself. That social treaty shall be upheld for all of time,
because hunting people and burning them
at the stake is much easier than getting their business in order and
advocating for their financial freedoms. Right? Right.
Yes, the wealthiest and the most influential
behind-the-scenes ask for my opinion and value it more than any politician or ‘nouveau riche’ idiot who has no clue what to do with his wealth
and how to donate 30% of it back to their communities.
I earned my place at the table and that’s why
I get to write what I do and I shan’t be threatened to be assassinated or
harmed.
The ‘common man’ may hate what I write but it
would be wiser and to their best interest not to hate someone who can pose
great arguments for or against their benefit and human outcome to those who
know absolutely nothing about them and simply don’t care.
No, I don’t require having my arse kissed by
local strangers. I know very well who and what I am. I don’t run around kissing
anyone’s rear end so I don’t expect mine to be either. (Moving on.)]
In conclusion; why do you got to be like that?
Why
do you want to give away your futures to the wealthiest one percent that are
set up for life, already?
No,
I won’t mind if I die a middle income earner because it means I get to keep my
sanity, however, I’d like to think that I have a greater stake in contribution
than money to Humanity at large, such as knowledge of how the system works,
class systems, large amounts of income and how the game is really played not
how the propagandists want you to think it might be, so they can sell the
‘working man’ broken dreams and watch them starve from Ivory Towers. Please.
Finally,
what I really want to say is this: tax dollars generate millions and billions
of revenue and there’s no reason for our American children to starve and not
get a great public education and be guaranteed safety; it’s just that the way
that budgets are set up and the way that investments and funds are wasted
leaves the working man with less because he’s not educated well-enough to know
any better and those who manipulate the public tax system are counting on you
not to know any better.
If
constituents give away their hard earned taxes then yes, ‘the rich will get
richer’ while ‘the poor will’ get hungrier.
Don’t waste your lives away on the rich
because they’re not even thinking about you, they only think about themselves.
Don’t give it away when you could be making
the investments and enriching your neighborhoods and communities at large the
way you want and the way you envision for a better and brighter future.
Get educated because it’s not enough to go to
school, you’ve got to work for your knowledge to stay alive and to hand the
future over to our offspring so they, too, get to eat a piece of the pecan pie
while everybody else’s children also
gets to eat.
And you think that I don’t have a heart. (As
if.)
Ignorance is destruction.
I’d like to see development stay Kosher and
above board, for once otherwise I can’t swallow moldy food no matter how hungry
I may get.
Peace;
Gabriel
P.S. Yes, I threw out the blue corn chips,
the cream cheese and store bought bagels because well, my doc still expects me
to be 140 lbs by March 1st, 2014 because she says I’m ‘obese.’
(Sigh.)
I’m lucky in that I lose weight fast. I just
do. When I stop eating sugar then bam! I start looking like something out of a…
It’ll be work but oh, well. It’s my health so
I guess I better comply with doc’s orders.
It’s been weird lately, but it’s not the
sugary things that I’ve been craving, it’s been cream cheese.
I’m thinking of trying a raw nutritional
substance, not completely, but gearing towards that lifestyle and then once I
lose the 24 lbs and shrink my stomach, I’ll keep it that way for life because I
don’t want to have to lose it again.
I hate dieting so I’m not going to. I’m
simply going to substitute some foods for others. Ha!
Since Thanksgiving I’ve gained 9 lbs and I
really don’t eat all that much but oh, my! The Holiday cookies have done me in.
I guess the research shows that most
Americans gain and keep 10 lbs from Thanksgiving to the New Year.
Come along with me and eat slowly and indulge
however stay away from that eggnog which I can take down like it were water. It
tastes so good. I haven’t had any yet this year and I can’t wait till Christmas
dinner. I might indulge in two glasses. Cheers!
I’m so human it hurts.
Word count: 2,069
Wednesday, December
11, 2013
“The world is new to us every morning--this
is God’s gift;
and every man should believe he is reborn
each day.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Intelligentsia (the
highly educated and cultured)
He stayed longer than expected at the party
because there were too many intelligentsias present.
---
--- ---
I’m
taking it easy on my wrists, hands, knuckles and elbows.
Next Wednesday I go to an Ortho to see about
my Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and we’ll go from there.
Today, my main practitioner mentioned that
I’m just around the corner from having to go through surgery for my wrist and
then I’m home free.
Well, well, well.
What a life full of injuries and positive
attitude all around no matter what.
If you were to meet me, today, in person then
you’d be surprised to find that I live in pain most of my life yet I hold a
positive attitude because what else is there to do but to laugh? Cry? I don’t think so.
Today, my awesome and amazing doctor and her
medical staff set me up with a set of elbow bands (made in Eagan, Minnesota)
(I’ve developed tennis elbow) and another brace for my right wrist so I’m
sitting here looking more like something out of a sci-fi novel than anything
else.
My new gear isn’t necessarily fashionable,
but, damn, it feels so good on my forearms, wrists and hands.
I can’t tell you who my doc is, but after
nine years of searching for her, I finally found her, and she’s a saint, along
with her front desk personnel, her clerical staff, nurses and medical staff.
I attend an excellent ‘women’s clinic’ here
in the Twin Cities area and what a difference it makes to go to a clinic where
women are treated like Humans and not like garbage, especially minorities even
though my spec sheet says that my race is “white” and that I’m not.
My race is Indigenous Maya.
My culture is Maya.
No, my culture isn’t Latino or Hispanic but
what the heck?
Right?
Wrong.
No, it’s not a clinic for poor women, it’s a
‘normal’ clinic for anyone but early on, I was informed that it was mainly a
clinic that serviced the medical needs of women and specialized in women’s
healthcare.
It was this practitioner who found out that I
had four fibroids (benign tumors) for the second time this fall 2013 and caught
them just in time before they grew any bigger than apples. Thank goodness.
All
of a sudden I’ve grown up and gotten quite mature about Western doctors and
medical procedures. Nowadays, I show up on time and I don’t get nearly as
nervous as I used to.
I’ve let go of my Indigenous notions in which
medical facilities were places where only
the ‘walking dead’ went to die.
I used to get ‘scared stiff’ that I’d end up like a stiff on some
operating table and dead because of some clerical error but after my second 1.6
million dollar Da Vinci operation it seems as though I’ve lost that deep fear in
my bones about operations, Western medicine and medical clerical errors and
such.
I’ve stepped up to the plate and taken charge of my health care since so
many in America go without it.
As I get older I appreciate it more so than I
did seven years ago when I got fully insured but then I would hardly ever go in
for anything so much as a physical checkup for fear that I’d end up dead.
Funny how Indigenous fears can get in the way
of living in unison with a modern lifestyle.
I
consider myself quite modern savvy but for some reason the doc’s office was one
of those paralyzing fears in my life that I’ve had to learn to overcome no
matter what. And I’m better for it.
I feel ever more confident with entrusting my
life to this new practitioner because she understands that all I want to do is
to burst out in Spanish or Maya and explain to her in full detail where and how
my body hurts but my linguistic outbursts would only waste precious little time
that we get together so I stick the
landing in English and I don’t fall over however I do feel clumsy and my
score is average.
In the Maya traditional medicinal life and
worship; both are highly intertwined with spirituality, so it would take me a
long time to translate for her what my deepest values and ideals are about when
it comes to my ailments, thus I hold my tongue from giving her what she would
perceive as a long winded speech about something or other, without knowing or
understanding that as a patient it’s my duty to speak about the theological
value of medicine and spirituality revolving the wellness of my individual body
and soul; but that’s silly to Western medicine thus I translate from the Maya
to the Spanish into the English as best as I can and stop talking as soon as
possible even though my cheeks get hot red and I feel as though I do a ‘piss
poor’ job at translating for her to the best of my ability even though she
tells me that she understands my English just fine, but it’s not that.
It’s just that English doesn’t hold the
gravitas of spiritual wellness within the context of the language so I feel
flat and one dimensional when I translate for her.
I feel like we’re at the end of a long tunnel
and separated by light and distance and if only she could understand a sliver
of this Indigenous life then I’d feel
less awkward but when in Rome do as the
Romans, thus I do.
I think she understands because she tells me
that she does even though I feel trapped in a bubble of limited linguistics,
sentiments and such.
Yes, I go to the doctors completely sober at
all times even if I come across like a complete idiot and language fails me
miserably.
Just as I come to the podcast and to the blog
sober thus I do at the doctors and for much of the rest of my life.
I can’t imagine going to the doc’s anything
but sober because if I didn’t then I’d really be a blabbering idiot and that
I’m not; I just feel like it even though when I get extremely shy I stop
translating all together and English becomes choppy waters with a strong
undertow current. Ha! You got that.
Much Respect;
Gabriel
P.S. I’ve regained nine pounds but oh, well.
All of my clothes are falling off of me and
my family members are telling me that I look smaller than I have in a long
time.
The fat has come off but the scale just won’t
comply with my body’s musculature overtones. Oh, well.
I think maybe the doc’s scale is mean and out
to get my little body fat. What a stupid raging war. I threw out the scale at
our house and ever since, my clothes look like tents on my body. Ha!
I received a flu shot. Yes!
My blood pressure is: 102/64
Pulse: 72
Temperature: 97.9 F
Respirations: 12
Height: 1.588m (5’ 2.5”)
Weight: 74.526 kg (164 lb 4.8 oz)
Body Mass Index 29.55 kg/m2
Yes, I’m considered ‘obese’ by Western
cultural standards but if you met me then you’d be surprised at how small I am
in body fat and otherwise.
People tell me that I look more like 120
pounds than I do 164 pounds. Looks can be
deceiving but I look a lot smaller than the scale likes to scream at me.
I wear a size 10 pant and recently I went
down to a size 8 shirt. How finicky the human body can be.
The largest part of my body, are my breasts
and that I can’t help. They grew in once I started drinking hormone filled
milk, two years after I was adopted at the age of twelve and I got my period
when I was eleven.
I think that it had to do with hormones in
the food because prior to that my entire life had been a nutritional substance
of rice and beans, tropical veggies and fruits, goat milk and nothing else.
No, I’m not getting way too personal with the
reader so that you can compare your bodies to mine.
I’m openly writing so that American women can
accept their beauty and understand that sometimes no matter how much they starve
or stuff themselves that natural is indeed gorgeous because I hold an
incredibly happy lifestyle, eating everything
that I want in small portions.
I eat like a bird.
I take baby-bite sizes unless I haven’t eaten
all day then I inhale my food and I don’t care who watches me scarf it down,
but normally I eat like a bird, two bites and I’m full.
I refuse to feel shame about my body fat
because it’s kept me alive in some of the worst times of my life.
As soon as I can hold a camera I’ll take self
portraits again and you’ll be like: she still looks the same and she’s not a
beach whale. Ha!
Let’s celebrate life instead of killing the
joy out of it.
*) The average American woman’s dress size is
a 14 (fourteen).
Word Count: 1,518
Tuesday, December 10,
2013
“Better a little with beauty than much
without it.”
“It is not that that which is beautiful
pleases us, but that that which pleases us is called beautiful.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Intercessor (one
who acts between two parties, a mediator)
His friend proved to be a powerful intercessor
for him.
---
--- ---
Corrections were made.
-------------------------------
“By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way
comes."
Well,
who am I to address the situation with the Minnesota Orchestral Association and
the Orchestra’s fourteen-month-lockout much less who am I to speak of such
matters?
I'm absolutely no one special but some kid from
Brooklyn. (Ha!)
I’m
puzzled as to why the city of Minneapolis hasn’t bailed out the Orchestra’s
locked out musicians.
For crying out loud our federal government bailed
out our corrupt banks after they stole from The People and left them homeless
so why can’t the city of Minneapolis bailout the Minnesota Orchestra musicians?
Warped priorities…
Everybody knows that
professional orchestral musicians can’t and shouldn’t work for peanuts
because it would be most uncouth to do so.
To have professional orchestral musicians make the
sacrifice to take pay cuts from their salaries would bring shame to our Twin
Cities area to have the wealthiest patrons attend the orchestra, however, have
the musicians make personal financial provisions and possibly go without health
care for their family members and such, as an example. Nope. It shan’t
do.
Do
you know what’s queer and smells of sewage in the city of Minneapolis is that
governance is sitting back and allowing for this train wreck to unfold.
I wonder if somebody at the former mayor’s
office cut a deal with the devil under the table to allow for developers
to take over Orchestra Hall’s location so that downtown can become further
developed, at outrageous rental prices and a downtown that grows more ghostly
by the months because it’s darn expensive to shop and hang out there for most
Minnesotans across the state.
Can
you imagine the dividends that those particular city officials must get for
making decisions that aren’t left up to The People through a referendum vote
such as the NFL stadium?
How ghastly to have Minneapolis constituents get
stuck picking up the bill and paying for the multi-billionaire National
Football League.
If I were that bloated rich I’d be embarrassed to
have the serfs spoon feed me. How ghastly and grotesque indeed. What ogres.
It’s criminal and everybody knows it. (Plus,
as much as I support the Vikings they ‘suck’ and are no fun to watch at all so
I’m boycotting them for life as well as football all together because of
CTE.) (Who wants a nation of ‘retards’? No one does, no matter how much
money is thrown at the game or at players from ghettoes.)
I’d rather watch ants carry food fifty times their
body weight. Have you ever watched ants do that? It’s remarkably interesting
and far more entertaining than the Vikings are.
I
mean, look at the 400 million dollars that the NFL will get out of the
Minneapolis constituents without a referendum vote on the issue and realize
that it’s a crooked deal.
It’s easy to see from a mile away and the
Minneapolis constituents are mad as dickens about it. Yes, Sir! Yes, indeed.
Talk about milking that cow for all its worth,
getting away with it right under The People’s noses and acting like it’s the
right thing to do for everybody. What a bunch of good for nothing crooks.
Imagine the dividends?
Oh, my!
City officials are going to go home with their
pockets full of cash after their kickbacks kick in. Wow! Could you imagine
being that crooked? Yep. Imagine it because it’s all too real.
It must be weird to be on the receiving end of that
‘syphilis madness,’ while Minneapolis constituents demand their orchestral
musicians back in session, new state of the art schools, early childhood
education, full time kindergarten, free tuition to all college and university
students, new educational skills for a new technological era, ending
homelessness, and street safety and cleanliness.
Look;
I’m only speculating but I’m not far off the mark.
I’m taking ‘a stab in the dark’ and throwing
spaghetti at the wall and making an educated guess on this NFL stadium funded
by the city of Minneapolis and its constituents because if governor Dayton and
former mayor R.T. Rybak had absolutely nothing to lose on this NFL stadium
deal, then they would’ve left it up to their constituents and posed a
referendum vote on the 2012 ballot but because they were, too, cowardly to do
so then for as long as that NFL stadium stands it’ll be known as “The Crook’s
Stadium” and not “The People’s Stadium.”
Why
am I so fervent about this matter?
I’m
extremely passionate about this matter because it seems that the network of the
‘old boys ‘crooked’ club’ continually makes the wrong decisions for Minneapolis
which in turn places large amounts of cash into their pockets but leaves the
city decrypted and financially deeply wounded.
I
care what happens to Minneapolis and downtown more so than most any other place
in Minnesota, however, not at the expense of its constituents because then I
wouldn’t be any better than any other filthy crook and a crook I’m not, my
taxes prove that.
A
crook, especially, one in a nice expensive suit doesn’t get away with organized
crime because the I.R.S. is anybody’s worst nightmare when it comes to April
15, unless the I.R.S. is in on some type of crooked deal, themselves, which I
very much doubt that they’re in cahoots with the NFL and Minneapolis
past-and-present government officials.
Now,
just because organized crime loves themselves one-half of a freely funded
stadium it doesn’t mean that the constituents do.
For as long as that stadium stands ‘let the games
begin’ when it comes to getting what one deserves, because don’t you know
lovely ones?
Whatever
goes up must come down.
It’s the law of gravity.
There’ll be ‘bad luck’ and the ghosts of the
starving Minnesota children and youth upon the ‘head of that stadium.’
When one enters through those doors visualize all
of the thousands of Minneapolis homeless youth who live and freeze under
bridges because of that stadium. (Ouch.)
[I just created that image inside your heads
forever because I’ve witnessed it and seen it with my own two eyes. I don’t
have to make up anything. I can’t wait to write non-fiction then I don’t have
to write the truth any longer because it sure does hurt. I’ll be able to write
about fantasies.]
Don’t mark my words.
Bad luck is spun from greed, hatred and social
lunacy to do badly against others, especially, against their will, such as that
of the Minneapolis constituents and forcing their hand at funding an NFL
stadium, which Minneapolis can’t afford to do so.
If the Vikings’ players are at all superstitious
then watch what greed and hatred can do to one’s game. Ooh, spooky!
(Ha!) No, I’m not fucking with anybody’s game. Don’t you know anything about
physics?
Seriously, all that is, comes to pass.
And with bad luck on one’s side then all
comes to...
One must believe that there’s a higher power more
loving than money or hatred or greed because if one doesn’t then darkness
touches one in the deepest and most secret of one’s heart’s regions.
To fool around with the heart is to kill…
Now,
enough of this Indigenous talk; I scared ya, didn’t I?
Well, I live by the mercy of the Gods and not by
the hatred of the devils and I’m speaking as an atheist spiritual intellectual,
(no, none of that new age bullshit.)
What
does any of this have to do with one another?
Well,
let me see if I can tidy it up for you in a nutshell.
Most
Minneapolis public officials voted (with the exception of one and she is now
the current Minneapolis mayor) for something that the Minneapolis constituents
don’t want in the first place such as the NFL stadium while the orchestral
musicians are forced to live off of their life’s savings and donations and
contributions from friendly parties while fat bloated multi-billionaire NFL
stadium owners live greedy lives of nothingness because they contribute nothing
to Minneapolis instead they only take from The People; and in the fourteen
months that the Minnesota Orchestral Association hasn’t arrived at a consensus
to do well by the orchestral musicians then possibly some corrupt official could
wiggle in some deal to some scummy property owner and developer for that plot
of land and then bam!
Minneapolis definitely is out of the running for
the next New York City because no matter how much skuzzy property owners and
developers want to develop Minneapolis; they can’t jack up the leases on
renters and choke our people out of here.
Look;
without affordable culture there’s nothing and I mean nothing to live for.
Without
the professional arts, artisans, crafters and trading creative types, who, must
afford a high quality of lifestyle for their families and children then those grand
property owners and developments with nothing but the seasonally frequenting
rich won’t survive (as it is now) because with culture comes consistency and
concrete pride in the eclectic, the intellectually savvy, the all questioning,
the everyday man who is powerful to stand up again racism and discrimination
and the stability of a “middle class” economy and workforce.
Without
affordable and stable culture we’re nothing.
Pack
up your bags and leave town because what’s the point? There isn’t one, not when
it comes to greedy property owners and developers who have no idea what the
farm bill is or immigration reform or how much a gallon of milk costs real
people.
In
conclusion; the point that I’m to make is that all of this smells of rotten
stolen goods and the longer the Minnesota Orchestral Association locks out the
Minnesota Orchestra musicians then most likely as time passes it’ll lead the
corrupt to go astray because the longer they get away from the real issues at
hand then the more time they have to cook up more corruption under everyone’s
noses.
People question what kind of hanky-panky is going
on in those back music rooms. Who’s giving whom a blow job and for how much?
Anything can happen under the guise of greed, corruption and hatred.
In
conclusion; why didn’t the city of Minneapolis give the Minnesota Orchestra
the six million that is needed to get this thing back up and running and six
million less from the 400 million in the NFL stadium deal?
In
conclusion; why do so many corrupt officials have their hands in the cookie
jar?
Have you seen the statistics for Minneapolis crime?
Personally, I think it’s appalling and the heroine
problem in this area is deeply sad.
I know that I’ve been harking on these issues for
the past decade and for the past three years on the page but I do it out of
genuine concern for Minneapolis because it’s one of my favorite cities in the
entire world.
Now,
no, I won’t give it to Minneapolis that easily.
I refuse to give it to Minneapolis in a handheld
basket because customer service is inexcusable in much of that city.
Minneapolis will have to work for it because almost
everywhere we frequent as patrons we’re treated like garbage and we’re not the
only ones who’ve noticed.
It’s so weird to attend anything as patrons of any
establishment but to have the workers practically want to throw our drinks in
our faces or stuff our food down our throats. It leaves a terrible taste in our
mouths.
I didn’t realize that one had to have jewels
encrusted upon one’s forehead simply to be treated civilly as a patron.
Nevertheless, the point is this: Minneapolis
governance has to get it together because we may be able to afford to pretend
to be posh and ignorantly rich with all of these warped property owners and developers
coming in but that doesn’t guarantee success.
Minneapolis can become the ‘Bucket woman’ and
pretend for a while however one cannot afford to pretend away real culture
because that’s the backbone of life.
Get it together and get our orchestral musicians
back to work at Orchestra Hall. What a real disgrace.
Otherwise, some city official is giving head to
some unethical property owners and developer who’s giving head to some
Minnesota Orchestral Association member and I can make films about that for the
next five years and have the audience roaring with laughter at the obscene
absurdity of it all.
Sincerely;
Gabriel
P.S. "Chris"
Christie of New Jersey just lost the presidency for 2016. He’s a non-contender
as of today when he’s so vicious to his own people. As if. What a loser.
Word count: 2,090. My wrist just began to hurt.
Monday, December 9,
2013
“It is better to strip a carcass of its hide
than to beg.”
“Better to be a servant in a temple for
heathens than accept alms.”
“I have tasted everything, and found nothing
as bitter as begging.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Interim (Time between, meantime)
In the interim we busied ourselves
sightseeing.
---
--- ---
I’m
wishing you a splendid chilly Monday night.
What
a day! So much happens in one day in the life of any human. I wish you respect
and dignity and patience wherever you might be tonight.
I
can’t believe how incredibly cold it’s been for the past five days. The weather
just won’t let up. My joints creek and my muscles feel tight in this weather.
It’s amazing how one’s body changes so much over the years.
I
wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’m ever so happy to be getting older and
wiser with the passing of time. Days like these don’t make me nostalgic because
I’ve got my finger on the future, however, I smiled at myself today as I
thought back on all those winters in which nothing much hurt when I used to
spend as much as ten hours in the cold of winter playing, cross country skiing,
snowboarding, snowshoeing and skating.
Not anymore.
Those days are long behind me, now.
I’d rather be in the Sauna.
You can’t pay me enough to spend anymore than
an hour (a day, total) walking the dog and that’s about it when it comes to
this cold weather.
Even
though I tend to write and refer to past events and circumstances I’m here,
present and in the moment and I look towards the future with glee.
I’m ever so happy not to be a naïve and
gullible kid anymore. I’ve done a lot of growing up and for that I give thanks
to step out of that naïve phase in my life.
It’s good to be a full mature adult. I feel
great as an adult full of hope for so much that is yet to pass.
Anyway,
how I can go on.
I
wish you respect most of all.
Peace;
Gabriel
My alarm just went off.
I have some important place I must be right
about now.
I’m expected.
Word count: 323
Friday, December 6,
2013
“Do not look too long on the beauty that
belongs to someone else.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Interstellar (among
the stars, between the stars)
The astronomer is interested in interstellar
space.
---
--- ---
“Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”
By
Dee Brown
Excerpt
Page 3
In Massachusetts the story began somewhat
differently but ended virtually the same as in Virginia. After the Englishmen
landed at Plymouth in 1620, most of them probably would have starved to death
but for aid received from friendly natives of the New World. A Pemaquid named
Samoset and three Wampanoags named Massasoit, Squanto and Hobomah became
self-appointed missionaries to the Pilgrims. All spoke some English, learned
from explorers who had touched ashore in previous years. Squanto had been
kidnapped by an English seaman who sold him into slavery in Spain, but he
escaped through the aid of another Englishman and finally managed to return
home. He and other “Indians” regarded the Plymouth colonists as helpless as
children; they shared corn with them from the tribal stores, showed them where
and how to catch fish, and got them through the first winter. When spring came
they gave the white men some seed corn and showed them how to plant and
cultivate it.
-----------------------------
Nelson Mandela - April 20, 1964
I am the First Accused.
I hold a Bachelor's Degree in Arts and
practised as an attorney in Johannesburg for a number of years in partnership
with Oliver Tambo. I am a convicted prisoner serving five years for leaving the
country without a permit and for inciting people to go on strike at the end of
May 1961.
At the outset, I want to say that the
suggestion made by the State in its opening that the struggle in South Africa
is under the influence of foreigners or communists is wholly incorrect. I have
done whatever I did, both as an individual and as a leader of my people,
because of my experience in South Africa and my own proudly felt African
background, and not because of what any outsider might have said.
In my youth in the Transkei I listened to the
elders of my tribe telling stories of the old days. Amongst the tales they related
to me were those of wars fought by our ancestors in defence of the fatherland.
The names of Dingane and Bambata, Hintsa and Makana, Squngthi and Dalasile,
Moshoeshoe and Sekhukhuni, were praised as the glory of the entire African
nation. I hoped then that life might offer me the opportunity to serve my
people and make my own humble contribution to their freedom struggle. This is
what has motivated me in all that I have done in relation to the charges made
against me in this case.
Having said this, I must deal immediately and
at some length with the question of violence. Some of the things so far told to
the Court are true and some are untrue. I do not, however, deny that I planned
sabotage. I did not plan it in a spirit of recklessness, nor because I have any
love of violence. I planned it as a result of a calm and sober assessment of
the political situation that had arisen after many years of tyranny,
exploitation, and oppression of my people by the Whites.
I admit immediately that I was one of the persons
who helped to form Umkhonto we Sizwe, and that I played a prominent role in its
affairs until I was arrested in August 1962.
In the statement which I am about to make I
shall correct certain false impressions which have been created by State
witnesses. Amongst other things, I will demonstrate that certain of the acts
referred to in the evidence were not and could not have been committed by
Umkhonto. I will also deal with the relationship between the African National
Congress and Umkhonto, and with the part which I personally have played in the
affairs of both organizations. I shall deal also with the part played by the
Communist Party. In order to explain these matters properly, I will have to
explain what Umkhonto set out to achieve; what methods it prescribed for the
achievement of these objects, and why these methods were chosen. I will also
have to explain how I became involved in the activities of these organizations.
I deny that Umkhonto was responsible for a
number of acts which clearly fell outside the policy of the organization, and
which have been charged in the indictment against us. I do not know what
justification there was for these acts, but to demonstrate that they could not
have been authorized by Umkhonto, I want to refer briefly to the roots and
policy of the organization.
I have already mentioned that I was one of
the persons who helped to form Umkhonto. I, and the others who started the
organization, did so for two reasons. Firstly, we believed that as a result of
Government policy, violence by the African people had become inevitable, and
that unless responsible leadership was given to canalize and control the
feelings of our people, there would be outbreaks of terrorism which would
produce an intensity of bitterness and hostility between the various races of
this country which is not produced even by war. Secondly, we felt that without
violence there would be no way open to the African people to succeed in their
struggle against the principle of white supremacy. All lawful modes of expressing
opposition to this principle had been closed by legislation, and we were placed
in a position in which we had either to accept a permanent state of
inferiority, or to defy the Government. We chose to defy the law. We first
broke the law in a way which avoided any recourse to violence; when this form
was legislated against, and then the Government resorted to a show of force to
crush opposition to its policies, only then did we decide to answer violence
with violence.
But the violence which we chose to adopt was
not terrorism. We who formed Umkhonto were all members of the African National
Congress, and had behind us the ANC tradition of non-violence and negotiation
as a means of solving political disputes. We believe that South Africa belongs
to all the people who live in it, and not to one group, be it black or white.
We did not want an interracial war, and tried to avoid it to the last minute.
If the Court is in doubt about this, it will be seen that the whole history of
our organization bears out what I have said, and what I will subsequently say,
when I describe the tactics which Umkhonto decided to adopt. I want, therefore,
to say something about the African National Congress.
The African National Congress was formed in
1912 to defend the rights of the African people which had been seriously
curtailed by the South Africa Act, and which were then being threatened by the
Native Land Act. For thirty-seven years - that is until 1949 - it adhered
strictly to a constitutional struggle. It put forward demands and resolutions;
it sent delegations to the Government in the belief that African grievances
could be settled through peaceful discussion and that Africans could advance
gradually to full political rights. But White Governments remained unmoved, and
the rights of Africans became less instead of becoming greater. In the words of
my leader, Chief Lutuli, who became President of the ANC in 1952, and who was
later awarded the Nobel Peace Prize:
"Who will deny that thirty years of my
life have been spent knocking in vain, patiently, moderately, and modestly at a
closed and barred door? What have been the fruits of moderation? The past
thirty years have seen the greatest number of laws restricting our rights and
progress, until today we have reached a stage where we have almost no rights at
all."
Even after 1949, the ANC remained determined
to avoid violence. At this time, however, there was a change from the strictly
constitutional means of protest which had been employed in the past. The change
was embodied in a decision which was taken to protest against apartheid
legislation by peaceful, but unlawful, demonstrations against certain laws.
Pursuant to this policy the ANC launched the Defiance Campaign, in which I was
placed in charge of volunteers. This campaign was based on the principles of
passive resistance. More than 8,500 people defied apartheid laws and went to
jail. Yet there was not a single instance of violence in the course of this
campaign on the part of any defier. I and nineteen colleagues were convicted
for the role which we played in organizing the campaign, but our sentences were
suspended mainly because the Judge found that discipline and non-violence had
been stressed throughout. This was the time when the volunteer section of the ANC
was established, and when the word 'Amadelakufa' was first used: this was the
time when the volunteers were asked to take a pledge to uphold certain
principles. Evidence dealing with volunteers and their pledges has been
introduced into this case, but completely out of context. The volunteers were
not, and are not, the soldiers of a black army pledged to fight a civil war
against the whites. They were, and are, dedicated workers who are prepared to
lead campaigns initiated by the ANC to distribute leaflets, to organize
strikes, or do whatever the particular campaign required. They are called
volunteers because they volunteer to face the penalties of imprisonment and
whipping which are now prescribed by the legislature for such acts.
During the Defiance Campaign, the Public
Safety Act and the Criminal Law Amendment Act were passed. These Statutes
provided harsher penalties for offences committed by way of protests against
laws. Despite this, the protests continued and the ANC adhered to its policy of
non-violence. In 1956, 156 leading members of the Congress Alliance, including
myself, were arrested on a charge of high treason and charges under the
Suppression of Communism Act. The non-violent policy of the ANC was put in
issue by the State, but when the Court gave judgement some five years later, it
found that the ANC did not have a policy of violence. We were acquitted on all
counts, which included a count that the ANC sought to set up a communist state
in place of the existing regime. The Government has always sought to label all
its opponents as communists. This allegation has been repeated in the present
case, but as I will show, the ANC is not, and never has been, a communist
organization.
In 1960 there was the shooting at
Sharpeville, which resulted in the proclamation of a state of emergency and the
declaration of the ANC as an unlawful organization. My colleagues and I, after
careful consideration, decided that we would not obey this decree. The African
people were not part of the Government and did not make the laws by which they
were governed. We believed in the words of the Universal Declaration of Human
Rights, that 'the will of the people shall be the basis of authority of the
Government,' and for us to accept the banning was equivalent to accepting the
silencing of the Africans for all time. The ANC refused to dissolve, but
instead went underground. We believed it was our duty to preserve this
organization which had been built up with almost fifty years of unremitting
toil. I have no doubt that no self-respecting White political organization
would disband itself if declared illegal by a government in which it had no
say.
In 1960 the Government held a referendum
which led to the establishment of the Republic. Africans, who constituted
approximately 70 per cent of the population of South Africa, were not entitled
to vote, and were not even consulted about the proposed constitutional change.
All of us were apprehensive of our future under the proposed White Republic,
and a resolution was taken to hold an All-In African Conference to call for a
National Convention, and to organize mass demonstrations on the eve of the
unwanted Republic, if the Government failed to call the Convention. The
conference was attended by Africans of various political persuasions. I was the
Secretary of the conference and undertook to be responsible for organizing the
national stay-at-home which was subsequently called to coincide with the
declaration of the Republic. As all strikes by Africans are illegal, the person
organizing such a strike must avoid arrest. I was chosen to be this person, and
consequently I had to leave my home and family and my practice and go into
hiding to avoid arrest.
The stay-at-home, in accordance with ANC
policy, was to be a peaceful demonstration. Careful instructions were given to
organizers and members to avoid any recourse to violence. The Government's
answer was to introduce new and harsher laws, to mobilize its armed forces, and
to send Saracens, armed vehicles, and soldiers into the townships in a massive
show of force designed to intimidate the people. This was an indication that
the Government had decided to rule by force alone, and this decision was a
milestone on the road to Umkhonto.
Some of this may appear irrelevant to this
trial. In fact, I believe none of it is irrelevant because it will, I hope,
enable the Court to appreciate the attitude eventually adopted by the various
persons and bodies concerned in the National Liberation Movement. When I went
to jail in 1962, the dominant idea was that loss of life should be avoided. I
now know that this was still so in 1963.
I must return to June 1961. What were we, the
leaders of our people, to do? Were we to give in to the show of force and the
implied threat against future action, or were we to fight it and, if so, how?
We had no doubt that we had to continue the
fight. Anything else would have been abject surrender. Our problem was not
whether to fight, but was how to continue the fight. We of the ANC had always
stood for a non-racial democracy, and we shrank from any action which might
drive the races further apart than they already were. But the hard facts were
that fifty years of non-violence had brought the African people nothing but
more and more repressive legislation, and fewer and fewer rights. It may not be
easy for this Court to understand, but it is a fact that for a long time the
people had been talking of violence - of the day when they would fight the
White man and win back their country - and we, the leaders of the ANC, had nevertheless
always prevailed upon them to avoid violence and to pursue peaceful methods.
When some of us discussed this in May and June of 1961, it could not be denied
that our policy to achieve a non-racial State by non-violence had achieved
nothing, and that our followers were beginning to lose confidence in this
policy and were developing disturbing ideas of terrorism.
It must not be forgotten that by this time
violence had, in fact, become a feature of the South African political scene.
There had been violence in 1957 when the women of Zeerust were ordered to carry
passes; there was violence in 1958 with the enforcement of cattle culling in
Sekhukhuniland; there was violence in 1959 when the people of Cato Manor
protested against pass raids; there was violence in 1960 when the Government
attempted to impose Bantu Authorities in Pondoland. Thirty-nine Africans died
in these disturbances. In 1961 there had been riots in Warmbaths, and all this
time the Transkei had been a seething mass of unrest. Each disturbance pointed
clearly to the inevitable growth among Africans of the belief that violence was
the only way out - it showed that a Government which uses force to maintain its
rule teaches the oppressed to use force to oppose it. Already small groups had
arisen in the urban areas and were spontaneously making plans for violent forms
of political struggle. There now arose a danger that these groups would adopt
terrorism against Africans, as well as Whites, if not properly directed.
Particularly disturbing was the type of violence engendered in places such as
Zeerust, Sekhukhuniland, and Pondoland amongst Africans. It was increasingly
taking the form, not of struggle against the Government - though this is what
prompted it - but of civil strife amongst themselves, conducted in such a way
that it could not hope to achieve anything other than a loss of life and
bitterness.
At the beginning of June 1961, after a long
and anxious assessment of the South African situation, I, and some colleagues,
came to the conclusion that as violence in this country was inevitable, it
would be unrealistic and wrong for African leaders to continue preaching peace
and non-violence at a time when the Government met our peaceful demands with
force.
This conclusion was not easily arrived at. It
was only when all else had failed, when all channels of peaceful protest had
been barred to us, that the decision was made to embark on violent forms of
political struggle, and to form Umkhonto we Sizwe. We did so not because we
desired such a course, but solely because the Government had left us with no
other choice. In the Manifesto of Umkhonto published on 16 December 1961, which
is Exhibit AD, we said:
"The time comes in the life of any
nation when there remain only two choices - submit or fight. That time has now
come to South Africa. We shall not submit and we have no choice but to hit back
by all means in our power in defence of our people, our future, and our
freedom."
This was our feeling in June of 1961 when we
decided to press for a change in the policy of the National Liberation
Movement. I can only say that I felt morally obliged to do what I did.
We who had taken this decision started to
consult leaders of various organizations, including the ANC. I will not say
whom we spoke to, or what they said, but I wish to deal with the role of the
African National Congress in this phase of the struggle, and with the policy
and objectives of Umkhonto we Sizwe.
As far as the ANC was concerned, it formed a
clear view which can be summarized as follows:
•It was a mass political organization with a
political function to fulfil. Its members had joined on the express policy of
non-violence.
•Because of all this, it could not and would
not undertake violence. This must be stressed. One cannot turn such a body into
the small, closely knit organization required for sabotage. Nor would this be
politically correct, because it would result in members ceasing to carry out
this essential activity: political propaganda and organization. Nor was it
permissible to change the whole nature of the organization.
•On the other hand, in view of this situation
I have described, the ANC was prepared to depart from its fifty-year-old policy
of non-violence to this extent that it would no longer disapprove of properly
controlled violence. Hence members who undertook such activity would not be
subject to disciplinary action by the ANC.
I say 'properly controlled violence' because
I made it clear that if I formed the organization I would at all times subject
it to the political guidance of the ANC and would not undertake any different
form of activity from that contemplated without the consent of the ANC. And I
shall now tell the Court how that form of violence came to be determined.
As a result of this decision, Umkhonto was
formed in November 1961. When we took this decision, and subsequently
formulated our plans, the ANC heritage of non-violence and racial harmony was
very much with us. We felt that the country was drifting towards a civil war in
which Blacks and Whites would fight each other. We viewed the situation with
alarm. Civil war could mean the destruction of what the ANC stood for; with
civil war, racial peace would be more difficult than ever to achieve. We
already have examples in South African history of the results of war. It has
taken more than fifty years for the scars of the South African War to
disappear. How much longer would it take to eradicate the scars of inter-racial
civil war, which could not be fought without a great loss of life on both
sides?
The avoidance of civil war had dominated our
thinking for many years, but when we decided to adopt violence as part of our
policy, we realized that we might one day have to face the prospect of such a
war. This had to be taken into account in formulating our plans. We required a
plan which was flexible and which permitted us to act in accordance with the
needs of the times; above all, the plan had to be one which recognized civil
war as the last resort, and left the decision on this question to the future. We
did not want to be committed to civil war, but we wanted to be ready if it
became inevitable.
Four forms of violence were possible. There
is sabotage, there is guerrilla warfare, there is terrorism, and there is open
revolution. We chose to adopt the first method and to exhaust it before taking
any other decision.
In the light of our political background the
choice was a logical one. Sabotage did not involve loss of life, and it offered
the best hope for future race relations. Bitterness would be kept to a minimum
and, if the policy bore fruit, democratic government could become a reality.
This is what we felt at the time, and this is what we said in our Manifesto
(Exhibit AD):
"We of Umkhonto we Sizwe have always
sought to achieve liberation without bloodshed and civil clash. We hope, even
at this late hour, that our first actions will awaken everyone to a realization
of the disastrous situation to which the Nationalist policy is leading. We hope
that we will bring the Government and its supporters to their senses before it
is too late, so that both the Government and its policies can be changed before
matters reach the desperate state of civil war."
The initial plan was based on a careful
analysis of the political and economic situation of our country. We believed
that South Africa depended to a large extent on foreign capital and foreign
trade. We felt that planned destruction of power plants, and interference with
rail and telephone communications, would tend to scare away capital from the
country, make it more difficult for goods from the industrial areas to reach
the seaports on schedule, and would in the long run be a heavy drain on the
economic life of the country, thus compelling the voters of the country to
reconsider their position.
Attacks on the economic life-lines of the
country were to be linked with sabotage on Government buildings and other
symbols of apartheid. These attacks would serve as a source of inspiration to
our people. In addition, they would provide an outlet for those people who were
urging the adoption of violent methods and would enable us to give concrete
proof to our followers that we had adopted a stronger line and were fighting
back against Government violence.
In addition, if mass action were successfully
organized, and mass reprisals taken, we felt that sympathy for our cause would
be roused in other countries, and that greater pressure would be brought to
bear on the South African Government.
This then was the plan. Umkhonto was to
perform sabotage, and strict instructions were given to its members right from
the start, that on no account were they to injure or kill people in planning or
carrying out operations. These instructions have been referred to in the
evidence of 'Mr. X' and 'Mr. Z.'
The affairs of the Umkhonto were controlled
and directed by a National High Command, which had powers of co-option and
which could, and did, appoint Regional Commands. The High Command was the body
which determined tactics and targets and was in charge of training and finance.
Under the High Command there were Regional Commands which were responsible for
the direction of the local sabotage groups. Within the framework of the policy
laid down by the National High Command, the Regional Commands had authority to
select the targets to be attacked. They had no authority to go beyond the
prescribed framework and thus had no authority to embark upon acts which
endangered life, or which did not fit into the overall plan of sabotage. For
instance, Umkhonto members were forbidden ever to go armed into operation.
Incidentally, the terms High Command and Regional Command were an importation
from the Jewish national underground organization Irgun Zvai Leumi, which
operated in Israel between 1944 and 1948.
Umkhonto had its first operation on 16 December
1961, when Government buildings in Johannesburg, Port Elizabeth and Durban were
attacked. The selection of targets is proof of the policy to which I have
referred. Had we intended to attack life we would have selected targets where
people congregated and not empty buildings and power stations. The sabotage
which was committed before 16 December 1961 was the work of isolated groups and
had no connection whatever with Umkhonto. In fact, some of these and a number
of later acts were claimed by other organizations.
The Manifesto of Umkhonto was issued on the
day that operations commenced. The response to our actions and Manifesto among
the white population was characteristically violent. The Government threatened
to take strong action, and called upon its supporters to stand firm and to
ignore the demands of the Africans. The Whites failed to respond by suggesting
change; they responded to our call by suggesting the laager.
In contrast, the response of the Africans was
one of encouragement. Suddenly there was hope again. Things were happening.
People in the townships became eager for political news. A great deal of
enthusiasm was generated by the initial successes, and people began to
speculate on how soon freedom would be obtained.
But we in Umkhonto weighed up the white
response with anxiety. The lines were being drawn. The whites and blacks were
moving into separate camps, and the prospects of avoiding a civil war were made
less. The white newspapers carried reports that sabotage would be punished by death.
If this was so, how could we continue to keep Africans away from terrorism?
Already scores of Africans had died as a
result of racial friction. In 1920 when the famous leader, Masabala, was held
in Port Elizabeth jail, twenty-four of a group of Africans who had gathered to
demand his release were killed by the police and white civilians. In 1921 more
than one hundred Africans died in the Bulhoek affair. In 1924 over two hundred
Africans were killed when the Administrator of South-West Africa led a force
against a group which had rebelled against the imposition of dog tax. On 1 May
1950, eighteen Africans died as a result of police shootings during the strike.
On 21 March 1960, sixty-nine unarmed Africans died at Sharpeville.
How many more Sharpevilles would there be in
the history of our country? And how many more Sharpevilles could the country
stand without violence and terror becoming the order of the day? And what would
happen to our people when that stage was reached? In the long run we felt certain
we must succeed, but at what cost to ourselves and the rest of the country? And
if this happened, how could black and white ever live together again in peace
and harmony? These were the problems that faced us, and these were our
decisions.
Experience convinced us that rebellion would
offer the Government limitless opportunities for the indiscriminate slaughter
of our people. But it was precisely because the soil of South Africa is already
drenched with the blood of innocent Africans that we felt it our duty to make
preparations as a long-term undertaking to use force in order to defend
ourselves against force. If war were inevitable, we wanted the fight to be
conducted on terms most favorable to our people. The fight which held out
prospects best for us and the least risk of life to both sides was guerrilla
warfare. We decided, therefore, in our preparations for the future, to make
provision for the possibility of guerrilla warfare.
All whites undergo compulsory military
training, but no such training was given to Africans. It was in our view
essential to build up a nucleus of trained men who would be able to provide the
leadership which would be required if guerrilla warfare started. We had to
prepare for such a situation before it became too late to make proper
preparations. It was also necessary to build up a nucleus of men trained in
civil administration and other professions, so that Africans would be equipped
to participate in the government of this country as soon as they were allowed
to do so.
At this stage it was decided that I should
attend the Conference of the Pan-African Freedom Movement for Central, East,
and Southern Africa, which was to be held early in 1962 in Addis Ababa, and,
because of our need for preparation, it was also decided that, after the
conference, I would undertake a tour of the African States with a view to
obtaining facilities for the training of soldiers, and that I would also
solicit scholarships for the higher education of matriculated Africans.
Training in both fields would be necessary, even if changes came about by
peaceful means. Administrators would be necessary who would be willing and able
to administer a non-racial State and so would men be necessary to control the
army and police force of such a State.
It was on this note that I left South Africa
to proceed to Addis Ababa as a delegate of the ANC. My tour was a success.
Wherever I went I met sympathy for our cause and promises of help. All Africa
was united against the stand of White South Africa, and even in London I was
received with great sympathy by political leaders, such as Mr. Gaitskell and
Mr. Grimond. In Africa I was promised support by such men as Julius Nyerere,
now President of Tanganyika; Mr. Kawawa, then Prime Minister of Tanganyika;
Emperor Haile Selassie of Ethiopia; General Abboud, President of the Sudan;
Habib Bourguiba, President of Tunisia; Ben Bella, now President of Algeria;
Modibo Keita, President of Mali; Leopold Senghor, President of Senegal; Sekou
Toure, President of Guinea; President Tubman of Liberia; and Milton Obote,
Prime Minister of Uganda. It was Ben Bella who invited me to visit Oujda, the
Headquarters of the Algerian Army of National Liberation, the visit which is
described in my diary, one of the Exhibits.
I started to make a study of the art of war
and revolution and, whilst abroad, underwent a course in military training. If
there was to be guerrilla warfare, I wanted to be able to stand and fight with
my people and to share the hazards of war with them. Notes of lectures which I received
in Algeria are contained in Exhibit 16, produced in evidence. Summaries of
books on guerrilla warfare and military strategy have also been produced. I
have already admitted that these documents are in my writing, and I acknowledge
that I made these studies to equip myself for the role which I might have to
play if the struggle drifted into guerrilla warfare. I approached this question
as every African Nationalist should do. I was completely objective. The Court
will see that I attempted to examine all types of authority on the subject -
from the East and from the West, going back to the classic work of Clausewitz,
and covering such a variety as Mao Tse Tung and Che Guevara on the one hand,
and the writings on the Anglo-Boer War on the other. Of course, these notes are
merely summaries of the books I read and do not contain my personal views.
I also made arrangements for our recruits to
undergo military training. But here it was impossible to organize any scheme
without the co-operation of the ANC offices in Africa. I consequently obtained
the permission of the ANC in South Africa to do this. To this extent then there
was a departure from the original decision of the ANC, but it applied outside
South Africa only. The first batch of recruits actually arrived in Tanganyika
when I was passing through that country on my way back to South Africa.
I returned to South Africa and reported to my
colleagues on the results of my trip. On my return I found that there had been
little alteration in the political scene save that the threat of a death
penalty for sabotage had now become a fact. The attitude of my colleagues in
Umkhonto was much the same as it had been before I left. They were feeling
their way cautiously and felt that it would be a long time before the
possibilities of sabotage were exhausted. In fact, the view was expressed by
some that the training of recruits was premature. This is recorded by me in the
document which is Exhibit R.14. After a full discussion, however, it was
decided to go ahead with the plans for military training because of the fact
that it would take many years to build up a sufficient nucleus of trained
soldiers to start a guerrilla campaign, and whatever happened, the training
would be of value.
I wish to turn now to certain general
allegations made in this case by the State. But before doing so, I wish to
revert to certain occurrences said by witnesses to have happened in Port
Elizabeth and East London. I am referring to the bombing of private houses of
pro-Government persons during September, October and November 1962. I do not
know what justification there was for these acts, nor what provocation had been
given. But if what I have said already is accepted, then it is clear that these
acts had nothing to do with the carrying out of the policy of Umkhonto.
One of the chief allegations in the
indictment is that the ANC was a party to a general conspiracy to commit
sabotage. I have already explained why this is incorrect but how, externally,
there was a departure from the original principle laid down by the ANC. There
has, of course, been overlapping of functions internally as well, because there
is a difference between a resolution adopted in the atmosphere of a committee
room and the concrete difficulties that arise in the field of practical
activity. At a later stage the position was further affected by bannings and
house arrests, and by persons leaving the country to take up political work
abroad. This led to individuals having to do work in different capacities. But
though this may have blurred the distinction between Umkhonto and the ANC, it
by no means abolished that distinction. Great care was taken to keep the
activities of the two organizations in South Africa distinct. The ANC remained
a mass political body of Africans only carrying on the type of political work
they had conducted prior to 1961. Umkhonto remained a small organization
recruiting its members from different races and organizations and trying to
achieve its own particular object. The fact that members of Umkhonto were
recruited from the ANC, and the fact that persons served both organizations,
like Solomon Mbanjwa, did not, in our view, change the nature of the ANC or
give it a policy of violence. This overlapping of officers, however, was more
the exception than the rule. This is why persons such as 'Mr. X' and 'Mr. Z,'
who were on the Regional Command of their respective areas, did not participate
in any of the ANC committees or activities, and why people such as Mr. Bennett
Mashiyana and Mr. Reginald Ndubi did not hear of sabotage at their ANC
meetings.
Another of the allegations in the indictment
is that Rivonia was the headquarters of Umkhonto. This is not true of the time
when I was there. I was told, of course, and knew that certain of the
activities of the Communist Party were carried on there. But this is no reason
(as I shall presently explain) why I should not use the place.
I came there in the following manner:
•As already indicated, early in April 1961 I
went underground to organize the May general strike. My work entailed
travelling throughout the country, living now in African townships, then in
country villages and again in cities.
•During the second half of the year I started
visiting the Parktown home of Arthur Goldreich, where I used to meet my family
privately. Although I had no direct political association with him, I had known
Arthur Goldreich socially since 1958.
•In October, Arthur Goldreich informed me
that he was moving out of town and offered me a hiding place there. A few days
thereafter, he arranged for Michael Harmel to take me to Rivonia. I naturally
found Rivonia an ideal place for the man who lived the life of an outlaw. Up to
that time I had been compelled to live indoors during the daytime and could
only venture out under cover of darkness. But at Liliesleaf [farm, Rivonia,] I
could live differently and work far more efficiently.
•For obvious reasons, I had to disguise
myself and I assumed the fictitious name of David. In December, Arthur
Goldreich and his family moved in. I stayed there until I went abroad on 11
January 1962. As already indicated, I returned in July 1962 and was arrested in
Natal on 5 August.
•Up to the time of my arrest, Liliesleaf farm
was the headquarters of neither the African National Congress nor Umkhonto.
With the exception of myself, none of the officials or members of these bodies
lived there, no meetings of the governing bodies were ever held there, and no
activities connected with them were either organized or directed from there. On
numerous occasions during my stay at Liliesleaf farm I met both the Executive
Committee of the ANC, as well as the NHC, but such meetings were held elsewhere
and not on the farm.
•Whilst staying at Liliesleaf farm, I
frequently visited Arthur Goldreich in the main house and he also paid me
visits in my room. We had numerous political discussions covering a variety of
subjects. We discussed ideological and practical questions, the Congress
Alliance, Umkhonto and its activities generally, and his experiences as a
soldier in the Palmach, the military wing of the Haganah. Haganah was the
political authority of the Jewish National Movement in Palestine.
•Because of what I had got to know of
Goldreich, I recommended on my return to South Africa that he should be
recruited to Umkhonto. I do not know of my personal knowledge whether this was
done.
Another of the allegations made by the State
is that the aims and objects of the ANC and the Communist Party are the same. I
wish to deal with this and with my own political position, because I must
assume that the State may try to argue from certain Exhibits that I tried to
introduce Marxism into the ANC. The allegation as to the ANC is false. This is
an old allegation which was disproved at the Treason Trial and which has again
reared its head. But since the allegation has been made again, I shall deal
with it as well as with the relationship between the ANC and the Communist
Party and Umkhonto and that party.
The ideological creed of the ANC is, and
always has been, the creed of African Nationalism. It is not the concept of
African Nationalism expressed in the cry, 'Drive the White man into the sea.'
The African Nationalism for which the ANC stands is the concept of freedom and
fulfilment for the African people in their own land. The most important
political document ever adopted by the ANC is the 'Freedom Charter.' It is by
no means a blueprint for a socialist state. It calls for redistribution, but
not nationalization, of land; it provides for nationalization of mines, banks,
and monopoly industry, because big monopolies are owned by one race only, and
without such nationalization racial domination would be perpetuated despite the
spread of political power. It would be a hollow gesture to repeal the Gold Law
prohibitions against Africans when all gold mines are owned by European
companies. In this respect the ANC's policy corresponds with the old policy of
the present Nationalist Party which, for many years, had as part of its
programme the nationalization of the gold mines which, at that time, were
controlled by foreign capital. Under the Freedom Charter, nationalization would
take place in an economy based on private enterprise. The realization of the
Freedom Charter would open up fresh fields for a prosperous African population
of all classes, including the middle class. The ANC has never at any period of
its history advocated a revolutionary change in the economic structure of the
country, nor has it, to the best of my recollection, ever condemned capitalist
society.
As far as the Communist Party is concerned,
and if I understand its policy correctly, it stands for the establishment of a
State based on the principles of Marxism. Although it is prepared to work for
the Freedom Charter, as a short term solution to the problems created by white
supremacy, it regards the Freedom Charter as the beginning, and not the end, of
its program.
The ANC, unlike the Communist Party, admitted
Africans only as members. Its chief goal was, and is, for the African people to
win unity and full political rights. The Communist Party's main aim, on the
other hand, was to remove the capitalists and to replace them with a
working-class government. The Communist Party sought to emphasize class
distinctions whilst the ANC seeks to harmonize them. This is a vital
distinction.
It is true that there has often been close
co-operation between the ANC and the Communist Party. But co-operation is
merely proof of a common goal - in this case the removal of white supremacy -
and is not proof of a complete community of interests.
The history of the world is full of similar
examples. Perhaps the most striking illustration is to be found in the
co-operation between Great Britain, the United States of America, and the
Soviet Union in the fight against Hitler. Nobody but Hitler would have dared to
suggest that such co-operation turned Churchill or Roosevelt into communists or
communist tools, or that Britain and America were working to bring about a
communist world.
Another instance of such co-operation is to
be found precisely in Umkhonto. Shortly after Umkhonto was constituted, I was
informed by some of its members that the Communist Party would support
Umkhonto, and this then occurred. At a later stage the support was made openly.
I believe that communists have always played
an active role in the fight by colonial countries for their freedom, because
the short-term objects of communism would always correspond with the long-term
objects of freedom movements. Thus communists have played an important role in
the freedom struggles fought in countries such as Malaya, Algeria, and
Indonesia, yet none of these States today are communist countries. Similarly in
the underground resistance movements which sprung up in Europe during the last
World War, communists played an important role. Even General Chiang Kai-Shek,
today one of the bitterest enemies of communism, fought together with the
communists against the ruling class in the struggle which led to his assumption
of power in China in the 1930s.
This pattern of co-operation between
communists and non-communists has been repeated in the National Liberation
Movement of South Africa. Prior to the banning of the Communist Party, joint
campaigns involving the Communist Party and the Congress movements were
accepted practice. African communists could, and did, become members of the
ANC, and some served on the National, Provincial, and local committees. Amongst
those who served on the National Executive are Albert Nzula, a former Secretary
of the Communist Party, Moses Kotane, another former Secretary, and J. B.
Marks, a former member of the Central Committee.
I joined the ANC in 1944, and in my younger
days I held the view that the policy of admitting communists to the ANC, and
the close co-operation which existed at times on specific issues between the
ANC and the Communist Party, would lead to a watering down of the concept of
African Nationalism. At that stage I was a member of the African National
Congress Youth League, and was one of a group which moved for the expulsion of
communists from the ANC. This proposal was heavily defeated. Amongst those who
voted against the proposal were some of the most conservative sections of
African political opinion. They defended the policy on the ground that from its
inception the ANC was formed and built up, not as a political party with one
school of political thought, but as a Parliament of the African people,
accommodating people of various political convictions, all united by the common
goal of national liberation. I was eventually won over to this point of view
and I have upheld it ever since.
It is perhaps difficult for white South
Africans, with an ingrained prejudice against communism, to understand why
experienced African politicians so readily accept communists as their friends.
But to us the reason is obvious. Theoretical differences amongst those fighting
against oppression is a luxury we cannot afford at this stage. What is more,
for many decades communists were the only political group in South Africa who
were prepared to treat Africans as human beings and their equals; who were
prepared to eat with us; talk with us, live with us, and work with us. They
were the only political group which was prepared to work with the Africans for
the attainment of political rights and a stake in society. Because of this,
there are many Africans who, today, tend to equate freedom with communism. They
are supported in this belief by a legislature which brands all exponents of
democratic government and African freedom as communists and bans many of them (who
are not communists) under the Suppression of Communism Act. Although I have
never been a member of the Communist Party, I myself have been named under that
pernicious Act because of the role I played in the Defiance Campaign. I have
also been banned and imprisoned under that Act.
It is not only in internal politics that we
count communists as amongst those who support our cause. In the international
field, communist countries have always come to our aid. In the United Nations
and other Councils of the world the communist bloc has supported the Afro-Asian
struggle against colonialism and often seems to be more sympathetic to our
plight than some of the Western powers. Although there is a universal
condemnation of apartheid, the communist bloc speaks out against it with a
louder voice than most of the white world. In these circumstances, it would
take a brash young politician, such as I was in 1949, to proclaim that the
Communists are our enemies.
I turn now to my own position. I have denied
that I am a communist, and I think that in the circumstances I am obliged to
state exactly what my political beliefs are.
I have always regarded myself, in the first
place, as an African patriot. After all, I was born in Umtata, forty-six years
ago. My guardian was my cousin, who was the acting paramount chief of
Tembuland, and I am related both to the present paramount chief of Tembuland,
Sabata Dalindyebo, and to Kaizer Matanzima, the Chief Minister of the Transkei.
Today I am attracted by the idea of a
classless society, an attraction which springs in part from Marxist reading
and, in part, from my admiration of the structure and organization of early
African societies in this country. The land, then the main means of production,
belonged to the tribe. There were no rich or poor and there was no
exploitation.
It is true, as I have already stated, that I
have been influenced by Marxist thought. But this is also true of many of the
leaders of the new independent States. Such widely different persons as Gandhi,
Nehru, Nkrumah, and Nasser all acknowledge this fact. We all accept the need
for some form of socialism to enable our people to catch up with the advanced
countries of this world and to overcome their legacy of extreme poverty. But
this does not mean we are Marxists.
Indeed, for my own part, I believe that it is
open to debate whether the Communist Party has any specific role to play at
this particular stage of our political struggle. The basic task at the present
moment is the removal of race discrimination and the attainment of democratic
rights on the basis of the Freedom Charter. In so far as that Party furthers
this task, I welcome its assistance. I realize that it is one of the means by
which people of all races can be drawn into our struggle.
From my reading of Marxist literature and
from conversations with Marxists, I have gained the impression that communists
regard the parliamentary system of the West as undemocratic and reactionary.
But, on the contrary, I am an admirer of such a system.
The Magna Carta, the Petition of Rights, and
the Bill of Rights are documents which are held in veneration by democrats
throughout the world.
I have great respect for British political
institutions, and for the country's system of justice. I regard the British
Parliament as the most democratic institution in the world, and the
independence and impartiality of its judiciary never fails to arouse my
admiration.
The American Congress, that country's
doctrine of separation of powers, as well as the independence of its judiciary,
arouses in me similar sentiments.
I have been influenced in my thinking by both
West and East. All this has led me to feel that in my search for a political
formula, I should be absolutely impartial and objective. I should tie myself to
no particular system of society other than of socialism. I must leave myself
free to borrow the best from the West and from the East . . .
There are certain Exhibits which suggest that
we received financial support from abroad, and I wish to deal with this
question.
Our political struggle has always been
financed from internal sources - from funds raised by our own people and by our
own supporters. Whenever we had a special campaign or an important political
case - for example, the Treason Trial - we received financial assistance from
sympathetic individuals and organizations in the Western countries. We had
never felt it necessary to go beyond these sources.
But when in 1961 the Umkhonto was formed, and
a new phase of struggle introduced, we realized that these events would make a
heavy call on our slender resources, and that the scale of our activities would
be hampered by the lack of funds. One of my instructions, as I went abroad in
January 1962, was to raise funds from the African states.
I must add that, whilst abroad, I had
discussions with leaders of political movements in Africa and discovered that
almost every single one of them, in areas which had still not attained
independence, had received all forms of assistance from the socialist
countries, as well as from the West, including that of financial support. I
also discovered that some well-known African states, all of them
non-communists, and even anti-communists, had received similar assistance.
On my return to the Republic, I made a strong
recommendation to the ANC that we should not confine ourselves to Africa and
the Western countries, but that we should also send a mission to the socialist
countries to raise the funds which we so urgently needed.
I have been told that after I was convicted
such a mission was sent, but I am not prepared to name any countries to which
it went, nor am I at liberty to disclose the names of the organizations and
countries which gave us support or promised to do so.
As I understand the State case, and in particular
the evidence of 'Mr. X,' the suggestion is that Umkhonto was the inspiration of
the Communist Party which sought by playing upon imaginary grievances to enroll
the African people into an army which ostensibly was to fight for African
freedom, but in reality was fighting for a communist state. Nothing could be
further from the truth. In fact the suggestion is preposterous. Umkhonto was
formed by Africans to further their struggle for freedom in their own land.
Communists and others supported the movement, and we only wish that more
sections of the community would join us.
Our fight is against real, and not imaginary,
hardships or, to use the language of the State Prosecutor, 'so-called
hardships.' Basically, we fight against two features which are the hallmarks of
African life in South Africa and which are entrenched by legislation which we
seek to have repealed. These features are poverty and lack of human dignity,
and we do not need communists or so-called 'agitators' to teach us about these
things.
South Africa is the richest country in
Africa, and could be one of the richest countries in the world. But it is a
land of extremes and remarkable contrasts. The whites enjoy what may well be
the highest standard of living in the world, whilst Africans live in poverty
and misery. Forty per cent of the Africans live in hopelessly overcrowded and,
in some cases, drought-stricken Reserves, where soil erosion and the
overworking of the soil makes it impossible for them to live properly off the
land. Thirty per cent are laborers, labor tenants, and squatters on white farms
and work and live under conditions similar to those of the serfs of the Middle
Ages. The other 30 per cent live in towns where they have developed economic
and social habits which bring them closer in many respects to white standards.
Yet most Africans, even in this group, are impoverished by low incomes and high
cost of living.
The highest-paid and the most prosperous
section of urban African life is in Johannesburg. Yet their actual position is
desperate. The latest figures were given on 25 March 1964 by Mr. Carr, Manager
of the Johannesburg Non-European Affairs Department. The poverty datum line for
the average African family in Johannesburg (according to Mr. Carr's department)
is R42.84 per month. He showed that the average monthly wage is R32.24 and that
46 per cent of all African families in Johannesburg do not earn enough to keep
them going.
Poverty goes hand in hand with malnutrition
and disease. The incidence of malnutrition and deficiency diseases is very high
amongst Africans. Tuberculosis, pellagra, kwashiorkor, gastro-enteritis, and
scurvy bring death and destruction of health. The incidence of infant mortality
is one of the highest in the world. According to the Medical Officer of Health
for Pretoria, tuberculosis kills forty people a day (almost all Africans), and
in 1961 there were 58,491 new cases reported. These diseases not only destroy
the vital organs of the body, but they result in retarded mental conditions and
lack of initiative, and reduce powers of concentration. The secondary results
of such conditions affect the whole community and the standard of work
performed by African laborers.
The complaint of Africans, however, is not
only that they are poor and the whites are rich, but that the laws which are
made by the whites are designed to preserve this situation. There are two ways
to break out of poverty. The first is by formal education, and the second is by
the worker acquiring a greater skill at his work and thus higher wages. As far
as Africans are concerned, both these avenues of advancement are deliberately
curtailed by legislation.
The present Government has always sought to
hamper Africans in their search for education. One of their early acts, after
coming into power, was to stop subsidies for African school feeding. Many
African children who attended schools depended on this supplement to their
diet. This was a cruel act.
There is compulsory education for all white
children at virtually no cost to their parents, be they rich or poor. Similar
facilities are not provided for the African children, though there are some who
receive such assistance. African children, however, generally have to pay more
for their schooling than whites. According to figures quoted by the South
African Institute of Race Relations in its 1963 journal, approximately 40 per
cent of African children in the age group between seven to fourteen do not
attend school. For those who do attend school, the standards are vastly
different from those afforded to white children. In 1960-61 the per capita
Government spending on African students at State-aided schools was estimated at
R12.46. In the same years, the per capita spending on white children in the
Cape Province (which are the only figures available to me) was R144.57.
Although there are no figures available to me, it can be stated, without doubt,
that the white children on whom R144.57 per head was being spent all came from
wealthier homes than African children on whom R12.46 per head was being spent.
The quality of education is also different.
According to the Bantu Educational Journal, only 5,660 African children in the
whole of South Africa passed their Junior Certificate in 1962, and in that year
only 362 passed matric. This is presumably consistent with the policy of Bantu
education about which the present Prime Minister said, during the debate on the
Bantu Education Bill in 1953:
"When I have control of Native education
I will reform it so that Natives will be taught from childhood to realize that
equality with Europeans is not for them . . . People who believe in equality
are not desirable teachers for Natives. When my Department controls Native
education it will know for what class of higher education a Native is fitted,
and whether he will have a chance in life to use his knowledge."
The other main obstacle to the economic
advancement of the African is the industrial color-bar under which all the
better jobs of industry are reserved for Whites only. Moreover, Africans who do
obtain employment in the unskilled and semi-skilled occupations which are open
to them are not allowed to form trade unions which have recognition under the
Industrial Conciliation Act. This means that strikes of African workers are
illegal, and that they are denied the right of collective bargaining which is
permitted to the better-paid White workers. The discrimination in the policy of
successive South African Governments towards African workers is demonstrated by
the so-called 'civilized labor policy' under which sheltered, unskilled
Government jobs are found for those white workers who cannot make the grade in
industry, at wages which far exceed the earnings of the average African
employee in industry.
The Government often answers its critics by
saying that Africans in South Africa are economically better off than the
inhabitants of the other countries in Africa. I do not know whether this
statement is true and doubt whether any comparison can be made without having
regard to the cost-of-living index in such countries. But even if it is true,
as far as the African people are concerned it is irrelevant. Our complaint is
not that we are poor by comparison with people in other countries, but that we
are poor by comparison with the white people in our own country, and that we
are prevented by legislation from altering this imbalance.
The lack of human dignity experienced by
Africans is the direct result of the policy of white supremacy. White supremacy
implies black inferiority. Legislation designed to preserve white supremacy
entrenches this notion. Menial tasks in South Africa are invariably performed
by Africans. When anything has to be carried or cleaned the white man will look
around for an African to do it for him, whether the African is employed by him
or not. Because of this sort of attitude, whites tend to regard Africans as a
separate breed. They do not look upon them as people with families of their
own; they do not realize that they have emotions - that they fall in love like
white people do; that they want to be with their wives and children like white
people want to be with theirs; that they want to earn enough money to support
their families properly, to feed and clothe them and send them to school. And
what 'house-boy' or 'garden-boy' or laborer can ever hope to do this?
Pass laws, which to the Africans are among
the most hated bits of legislation in South Africa, render any African liable
to police surveillance at any time. I doubt whether there is a single African
male in South Africa who has not at some stage had a brush with the police over
his pass. Hundreds and thousands of Africans are thrown into jail each year
under pass laws. Even worse than this is the fact that pass laws keep husband
and wife apart and lead to the breakdown of family life.
Poverty and the breakdown of family life have
secondary effects. Children wander about the streets of the townships because
they have no schools to go to, or no money to enable them to go to school, or
no parents at home to see that they go to school, because both parents (if
there be two) have to work to keep the family alive. This leads to a breakdown
in moral standards, to an alarming rise in illegitimacy, and to growing
violence which erupts not only politically, but everywhere. Life in the
townships is dangerous. There is not a day that goes by without somebody being
stabbed or assaulted. And violence is carried out of the townships in the white
living areas. People are afraid to walk alone in the streets after dark.
Housebreakings and robberies are increasing, despite the fact that the death
sentence can now be imposed for such offences. Death sentences cannot cure the
festering sore.
Africans want to be paid a living wage.
Africans want to perform work which they are capable of doing, and not work
which the Government declares them to be capable of. Africans want to be
allowed to live where they obtain work, and not be endorsed out of an area
because they were not born there. Africans want to be allowed to own land in
places where they work, and not to be obliged to live in rented houses which
they can never call their own. Africans want to be part of the general
population, and not confined to living in their own ghettoes. African men want
to have their wives and children to live with them where they work, and not be
forced into an unnatural existence in men's hostels. African women want to be
with their menfolk and not be left permanently widowed in the Reserves.
Africans want to be allowed out after eleven o'clock at night and not to be
confined to their rooms like little children. Africans want to be allowed to
travel in their own country and to seek work where they want to and not where
the Labor Bureau tells them to. Africans want a just share in the whole of
South Africa; they want security and a stake in society.
Above all, we want equal political rights,
because without them our disabilities will be permanent. I know this sounds
revolutionary to the whites in this country, because the majority of voters
will be Africans. This makes the white man fear democracy.
But this fear cannot be allowed to stand in
the way of the only solution which will guarantee racial harmony and freedom
for all. It is not true that the enfranchisement of all will result in racial
domination. Political division, based on color, is entirely artificial and,
when it disappears, so will the domination of one color group by another. The
ANC has spent half a century fighting against racialism. When it triumphs it
will not change that policy.
This then is what the ANC is fighting. Their
struggle is a truly national one. It is a struggle of the African people,
inspired by their own suffering and their own experience. It is a struggle for
the right to live.
During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to
this struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination,
and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a
democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and
with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to
achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.
Nelson Mandela - April 20, 1964
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--- ---
Yes, I read the 10,690 words to Madiba’s
speech. Please, don’t call me a liar about that. It took me about an hour-and-a-half
to get through it. It was life changing. (More than 50 pages of reading.)
---
--- ---
R.I.P. Madiba
---
--- ---
Word Count for the month of November 2013,
before Madiba’s speech 47,216
Thursday, December 5,
2013
“Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”
By
Dee Brown
Excerpt
Page 395
After the furor over Spotted Tail’s death had
subsided, the Sioux everywhere on the Great Reservation turned their attention
toward Sitting Bull’s presence at Fort Randall. Many chiefs and subchiefs came
to visit him, wish him well, and do him honor. Newspapermen came to interview
him. Instead of being beaten and forgotten as he had thought, Sitting Bull was
famous. In 1882 representatives from the different Sioux agencies came to ask
his advice concerning a new government proposal to break up the Great
Reservation into smaller areas and sell about half the land for white
settlement. Sitting Bull advised them not to sell; the Sioux had no land to
spare.
---
--- ---
Impecunious (not
having money, poor)
The impecunious condition of the man
made him a public charge.
---
--- ---
Happy end of Chanukah at sundown!
---
--- ---
Look;
as far as this present administration is concerned, one can dislike their
methods and policies as much as one cares to, however.
If one were to dismiss the “Affordable Health
Care for America Act” then one is to fall into a trap set by the Republican
right-wing extremist propaganda phonies because the “ACA” is one of the
greatest gifts along with future Social Security expansion and immigration
reform for our Peoples.
Don’t fall for the propaganda and Fascist
ways of the republican right-wing extremists, because they want you to be as
ignorant as possible so that they can take control over our government due to
greed and nothing else, otherwise, they’d come up with great plans to
counteract what they hate so much about everything
that is progressive and about to save millions of lives across this country
within the next six months in the form of the “Affordable Health Care for
America Act.”
If anyone wants you to stay ignorant then
it’s only because they seek control over the majority, but what they don’t know will chap their arses in the end.
If one stands in the way of progress then one
will get run over because when it comes to the Americans’ health care coverage,
that ship has sailed and the Americans love their “Affordable Health Care for
America Act.”
Here on the ground people are so joyous and
thankful to have health care coverage for their entire families.
It would be ignorant and ungracious to turn
ones back on the “Affordable Health Care for America Act” when it’s a gift
granted to the People of this nation.
I
want it on the record, that I was terribly wrong about two ideologies this year
and my deepest apologies for being so badly informed, out of step and out of
date with the progressive world at large: A) I was wrong about drug testing and
food stamps. Period. Those two policies don’t have anything to do with one
another, nor should they. (I can’t believe how wrong I was about those two.) (I
fell for the outdated Republican right-wing extremist doctrine.) I was wrong
and I’m sorry about that. B) Capital Punishment is so barbaric and outdated
when one thinks hard and long enough about it.
My
verdict is still out about the “Castle Doctrine Act” and even though,
intellectually, I know it to be wrong; the animal in me, highly considers it,
even though it isn’t right, however, give me a little longer to consider it and
I’ll always come back to the table
and correct my mistakes and make good on any ignorance or faults or mistakes.
I will get in step with the rest of the
progressive world because it’s my duty to do so. I refuse for the world to leave me behind just because I’m some
“grouchy” old man, on the page. (Ha!) Just
Kidding.
We ought to do everything in our power to
expand Social Security and food stamp subsidies for all. It’s our goddamn duty
to take care of the needy, the poor and the sick otherwise we become horrible
at our religious responsibilities.
Let’s get to work;
Peace;
Gabriel
My two knuckles are killing me.
This is as far as I can go for today.
Go on without me and make a bright future indivisible for all.
Believe and do the right thing because I
believe and I’m willing and proud to do the right thing even though I can have
streaks of severe stubbornness.
I’m willing to ‘face the music,’ write the
truth and choose the moral high ground even though sometimes it’s the harder
thing to do, it’s the necessary actions.
Word count: 615
Wednesday, December
4, 2013
“Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”
By
Dee Brown
Excerpt
Page 264
Not long after Red Cloud and Spotted Tail and
their Teton peoples settled down on their reservations in northwestern
Nebraska, rumors began to fly among the white settlements that immense amounts
of gold were hidden in the Black Hills. Paha Sapa, the Black Hills, was the
center of the world, the place of gods and holy mountains, where warriors went
to speak with the Great Spirit and await visions. In 1868 the Great Father
considered the hills worthless and gave them to the “Indians” forever by
treaty. Four years later white miners were violating the treaty. They invaded
Paha Sapa, searching for rocky passes and clear-running streams for the yellow
metal which drove white men crazy. When “Indians” found these crazy white men
in their sacred hills, they killed them or chased them out. By 1874 there was
such a mad clamor from gold-hungry Americans that the Army was ordered to make
a reconnaissance into the Black Hills. The United States government did not
bother to obtain consent from the “Indians” before starting on this armed
invasion, although the treaty of 1868 prohibited entry of white men without the
“Indians’” permission.
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--- ---
Terminate (to bring to an end, for the end of; to come
to an end)
When the company terminates its
manufacture of this product, my services with them will terminate as
well.
---
--- ---
I’m
sorry to inform you guys but I’m in excruciating Carpal Tunnel pain. I think
that it comes with the barometric pressure. As of late, I can’t seem to get rid
of this pain in the joints of my two knuckles nor the pain on my right wrist
and elbows.
I’m going to take a break until Wednesday,
December 11th, when I see my main practitioner and see what happens
otherwise I’ve got to go in for further shots in my hand and possibly surgery.
The pain’s become unbearable.
I’ll make up the writing time someplace else.
---
--- ---
The
“Affordable Health Care for America Act” website is looking good. Don’t give up
on it, guys. It’s worth every single penny and if I were a young person (18-35)
I’d sign up for it faster than the “Flash”.
Yes, the “Affordable Health Care for America
Act” does cover babies under that health care policy. Duh!
---
--- ---
What does the bloated white man on Television
mean by saying that “no one” has read the “Affordable Health Care for America
Act?” As if.
Is he calling me a liar?
Can you think of every word that I’m calling
him?
I’ve read the bloody 1,990 pages that will
make anyone rip out their hair.
Don’t call me a liar and if you do then you
better do it to my face.
Just because some Washington legislatures and
their staff haven’t read the ACA it doesn’t mean that some of us, ‘regular
Citizens,’ haven’t taken the time and effort in doing so.
It’s our free time and money to read through
a law that not even the Senators have ‘put in’ the time to read. Get with the
program. Who are you calling a liar? I
don’t think so. (Ha!)
---
--- ---
Last night, silent tears streamed down my
face as we watched a clip from one of our distraught Immigrant Sisters on the
show “Big Sister Rachel” (The Rachel Maddow Show).
There was a clip of this beautiful woman
who’s mother and brother had been arrested by an immigration swat team that
went and got her family and took them away from her; soon after the incident
occurred, she ‘jumped’ online and recorded a compelling video of herself
crying.
It was gut wrenching to watch.
I can barely write about it now as I remember
her beautiful face crying out for humanity’s mercy.
Pass immigration reform laws. It’s time!
For those babies who were born upon American
soil, they’re our own and we ought to proudly proclaim those beautiful faces
because they belong to us and to this Tierra.
We can’t afford to split up any more
families. Keep on John Boehner for being such a dense and transparent human who
has no solutions only roadblocks to progress and success.
I’m wishing you love, peace, patience and
realness.
Gabriel
Word count: 480
Tuesday, December 3,
2013
“The rich have heirs, not children.”
(Leo Rosten’s Treasury of Jewish Quotations)
Interstices
(spaces between one thing and another, cracks)
They were careful to fill all the interstices.
---
--- ---
Note: I
ran out of time for the day: so I’ll try to get in two paragraphs each worth
two hundred words.
Paragraph #1: You heard it here first. (Yes, oops, lost in translation.)
Corrections were made:
Eric’s
an engineer whose brilliant idea will help save tens of thousands of lives over
time. I asked Eric to come up with an innovative way in which to help drivers
to spot bicyclists and he’s drawn up a plan, a program and a system in which
small detachable “dumb transmitters” (as Eric calls them) will transmit a
signal of anonymous bicyclists to cars with programs such as “On Star” that can
send out a signal that bicyclists are about fifty yards away. Eric says that
the cars don’t need to read all bicyclists on the roadways because that’s just
too much information but if a bicyclist gets within fifty yards of any vehicle
then it can help the driver decipher a bicyclist from any other object. Eric
coined the “dumb transmitter” because he says that all bicyclists will want to
be the same and not to be recognized as specific individuals by name and
location rather by anonymous means simply to relay information that a bicyclist
is nearby rather than their entire dossier otherwise that could get extremely
creepy especially for female bicyclists out alone at night. I think that it’s a
brilliant idea especially for night sports. Cheers!
Word Count: 200
Paragraph #2:
In
my immediate neighborhood there are so many beautiful Holiday decorations. The
neighbors have gone ‘hog wild’ this Holiday season with all of the little
decorative lights. Seriously, the decorations bring warmth to anyone’s heart no
matter how crabby one may be the remainder of the year. Our neighborhood has
exploded with decorative lights and for some reason it means so much more to me
this year than any other year ever since the “Holidazzle” parades have been cut
back to nine days this Holiday season and eventually there will be none after
this year December 2013. (No, I didn’t get out there.) The effort of our
neighbors means that much more because it shows that the Holiday spirit is
alive, wild and kicking in these parts. I believe that any city can’t be
considered a real metropolis without a Holiday or a Fourth of July parade or
without a Museum, Orchestra or Symphony. It’s not possible because it means
that our cultural creativity has taken a backseat to nothingness. Just as I
believe that Holiday lights cheer up the cultural landscape and brings hope to
The People who are in dire need of a little bit of cheer. Cheers!
Word Count: 200
Off to press. (Wink.)
Peace;
Gabriel
Somehow that was much more difficult than
writing 2,000 words.
Monday, December 2,
2013
“Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee”
By
Dee Brown
Excerpt
Page 214
California “Indians” were gentle as the
climate in which they lived. The Spaniards gave them names, established missions
for them, converted and debauched them. Tribal organizations were undeveloped
among the California “Indians;” each village had its leaders, but there were no
great war chiefs among these unwarlike people. After the discovery of gold in
1848, white men from all over the world poured into California by the
thousands, taking what they wanted from the submissive “Indians,” debasing
those whom the Spaniards had not already debased, and then systematically
exterminating whole populations now long forgotten. No one remembers the
Chilulas, Chimarikos, Urebures, Nipewais, Alonas, or a hundred other bands
whose bones have been sealed under a million miles of freeways, parking lots,
and slabs of tract housing.
Panoramic (Complete view of region in every direction)
A panoramic view of the campus can be
had from the administration building.
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--- ---
Investment
(asset, speculation, venture, outlay, savings, deal)
Yes,
I’ll answer that; investments indeed
must ‘gain a financial return’ for investors or capitalists; like any other
business loan that requires to be paid in full plus accrued interest to lending
institutions or bankers.
Yes, investments accrue interest over a
period of time, depending upon the percentage of the capital invested upon any
particular enterprise or venture. If there’s no accrued interest over time then
it’s just a favor and not really an investment.
An investment is definitely an asset
otherwise it’s just playing at business.
For example; knowing how to ‘pick and choose’ long term
stocks in which the gains out-way the loss, is everything. ‘Playing’ the stock
market isn’t only somewhat of a
gamble but also more specifically a roulette game as an overall metaphor of the
stock market itself, not necessarily stocks in and of themselves. ‘Spin the
wheel and wait and see.’
Most stockbrokers won’t put it quite so
bluntly and yet again they won’t say much about the ‘tricks of the trade’
because it’s an ‘old boys club’ unless you’re lucky enough to sit through two
decades of lectures from a corporate Republican CFO Grandfather (who was angry
as hell at the poor,) well, the chips are up in my case because it’s all about…
It’s important to ‘pick and choose’ stocks which
are high in market value yet ones which hold consumer value; thus the stock
market crash of 1929. There were a lot of stocks but no value in any of the
stocks because there was no cash and “nobody was buyin’ nothin’.” (No, I don’t
believe in “Bitcoin”. Show me the money!)
It’s a game of chance for
the average bloke unless one has ‘insider’ information that allows for the
cheat ‘to steal’ and ‘clean out’ the rest of the country out of the probability
of winning ‘slowly but surely’ over a long period of time, decades,
generations, really.
If one were to invest a million dollars and
say; get a return of eighty million within a decade then the I.R.S. needs to
research through those stocks, bonds, ledgers and other candy in that ‘bag of
tricks’ because no one individual makes eighty million in one
decade without insider trading and cheating. It’s not possible and everyone in the inside knows it to be
true. Something, that underhanded is all about “crooks” and their stolen goods.
I personally know and hold close
relationships with heirs and heiresses throughout the world whose entire
fortunes of that magnitude (eighty million) took five generations to accrue
interest after their ancestors killed, pillaged and raped the hell out of the
Earth; now, the very heirs and heiresses collect on average about ten thousand
dollars on interest per day when they
‘go pass go’ and all the while they collect they feel guilty as hell about it,
each and every single day of their lives because that’s not really a life,
that’s a burden for any one individual upon a grandiose scale of responsibility
and a worry that they’re going to lose it all tomorrow, if the markets were to
tank.
What a life of desperation for the wealthiest
of any nation; they have it all yet they have nothing.
My Grandfather who was indeed and in fact was
a multi-millionaire many times over could barely bring himself to purchase
lunch for his friends or treat others because for as wealthy as he was, he was
miserly and that’s just a psychological condition by the time a man counts his
pennies in the millions every single day then he’s ‘lost his marbles’ and all
touch with reality.
Sad, really.
Thus is the story of such a condemned family.
Always, grabbing at a misfortune they didn’t help build but definitely one in which our
family killed, pillaged and raped the seas for hundreds of years.
‘Fishmongers,’ sure, whatever you want to call them.
No, I didn’t inherit one single penny of that
misfortune because I couldn’t be
bought for a few pieces of… Nevertheless, let it be known that my Grandmother’s
People were indeed Sea Captains and their trade was in seafaring vessels.
I’ve never
had anything to do with fish except to fillet them and eat um up.
However, at one point, our family was the
largest fishery in the entire country (a monopoly) for centuries and that
history never leaves your body, soul and history to have taken so much from
Mother Earth and returned absolutely nothing, oh, like the state of our Nation,
today.
Take, take, and take.
Look; if no one’s going to spell it out
for you then I will because I love.
It’s
a new century and a new era of ideas and we’re falling behind.
Innovation and invention have always
made families and communities stinking rich.
If one were to better innovate and invent
anything as small as let’s say, a better set of musical ear plugs that actually
stay in my ears and sell them at ‘a buck, ninety-nine’ ($1.99), five million
units sold, practically at cost, then one were to make a small fortune, even
with all of the overhead costs.
Once you’ve got a well designed mold to
manufacture a product then let it rip.
The trick isn’t to expand, too, quickly
because that’ll take care of itself on its own time like velocity does. Once
you gather enough momentum then you better have a parachute because once
success gets going, then it gets going quite fast; faster than you might think.
Once the ‘baby’ (innovation / invention)
‘gets off the ground’ then it’ll catch wind and take off with speed and
momentum.
All great products take off like that. Once
they take off then it’s more difficult to keep up with the supply of demand
than it is to take off in the first place.
Gathering speed is one thing but generating
energy is quite another thing all together.
Every single day, I say to myself; “If only
this product would...”
Then I go on using a product that annoys the
hell out of me and eventually I give it away, throw it out or recycle it
because it’s no good to me.
Since I’m a ‘cheapskate’ (don’t take that too
literal) when it comes to products like sponges, toothbrushes and hairbrushes I
want ‘better quality for less value’ because I’m sick and tired of weak sponges
that don’t wash dishes very well, hurting my gums with archaic toothbrushes and
breaking my hair off with terrible combs and hairbrushes for curly hair.
Every
single day of my life, I wish that products were made better and In America
because we know ‘how to do it right’ or at
least we did in the 1980’s and 1990’s.
I guess we’ve lost entire generations of
manufacturing workers who have no clue how to press a button on assembly line
machinery other than to purchase consumer goods over an ‘iphone.’ (Which makes
sense.)
I’m thoroughly annoyed with badly designed
household products because I know they can be better designed and built,
however.
However,
the average American reading level is at a sixth grade reading level so
everybody’s gone ‘retarded’ and no one takes up science or mathematics any
longer so we’ve lost our designers, engineers, mathematicians, inventors and
innovators who could make our lives ‘a better place to live in’ with cheaper
products that actually worked and more time left over for fun.
But no, instead, our American youth and
adults drool in corners, dreaming of becoming famous but they hold absolutely
no talents, gifts or skills much less a tenth grade reading level, so they keep
on dreaming in rat infested flats and trailer parks about their ‘favorite
rappers’ who have no clue that they exist nor will they ever.
I could write entire Shakespearean plays
about today’s modern tragic heroes of tomorrow. (Ouch.)
(Every day I stay away from the poetry
because I guess no one has a clue
what “iambic pentameter”
is, much less a sonnet. We’ll come back to that later.)
My
biggest problem for the past twenty-six years is that almost every comb or
hairbrush I’ve ever used has pulled and broken off my hair.
So I get these short strands of broken off
hair that makes me look like I have static hair, standing straight up from my
head. (Ha!)
How annoying! No fun!
I wear an English flat cap almost every
single day of my life just so people don’t have to look at my broken off hair.
I have to hide my hair because after two and
a half decades of pulling and breaking it off, I’ve almost given up until
recently I purchased a “Michel Mercier” brush and it’s fabulous!
(No, I’m not bald. I have more hair than I
can manage.)
I died and went to heaven but it took twenty-six years for that bloody
product to come to market and how aggravating indeed.
How exasperating indeed those other countries
are wiping our arses clean with their profit margins because Americans no
longer innovate and invent.
Now, Americans drool and hope that someone
will come along and save them from their misery and a ‘quiet life of
desperation’ in front of the tube. Bleak existences.
Well,
shut off the tube and let’s get to work.
If you’re not reading at least three hours
per day, then you’re not developing for the future.
First, read your homework and comprehend then
read for pleasure.
I used to ‘put in’ six hours of homework on
average and three hours of ‘ice time’ (skating practice) per night; and so ought to most of our American
children and youth because it’ll keep
them out of trouble. (Not so much the skating practice but definitely the
homework practice.)
Yes, we must instill homework and hard work
into our children because nothing worth a life of greatness, success, groceries
in abundance, paid taxes and fun comes without practice, discipline and hard
work.
If you want something then you have to be
smart enough to go get it without stepping on other People’s faces on the way
to the top of the beautiful summit view that’ll get you closer to the Gods.
If
no one’s spelled it out for you; there’s no race, only life.
So go and kindly get it.
Make a life worth living for others and for
yourselves.
A life with a moral compass and core values
and with dignified pride that you’ve worked your pumping heart for it.
A life in which no one handed it to you.
You, and you, alone, went and fished those
waters without killing off the entire fish populations and only took what you
needed, otherwise it’s futile and greedy to do so and not worth all the hard
work to become ever so gluttonous and alone.
Greedy persons are lonely people.
It’s the meek who shall inherit the Earth.
In conclusion; our new American ‘gold
rush’ is innovation and invention at your finger tips. Put on your thinking caps.
The art of great and successful mathematics,
science, design, engineering and the aesthetic value in all life is to think
and to think of great ideas to ease others’ lives in general.
Mediocre ideas won’t due because then you’ll
have me wanting to throw the hairbrush across the room from exhaustion.
(Hyperbole.)
In
my humble opinion not everything’s been designed or made well.
I’m still waiting for my new magnificent
hairbrush to improve its design and come up with finger grooves so that my
Carpal Tunnel doesn’t act up every time I run a brush through my hair,
(especially in this new laptop era, we’ll need new inventions to ease Carpal
Tunnel and we’re not getting any younger.)
I’m still waiting for my new and improved
analogue toothbrush.
I’m still waiting…
I’ve got a list running of about a thousand
household products that could be much improved upon which that means that about
one thousand communities could be stinking rich right about now.
Yes,
anybody can become an artist appreciator.
Yes,
anybody can become an artist hobbyist.
No,
not anyone can become a professional artist.
No,
not anyone can become the next Vivaldi, Picasso or Mr. Mercury.
No,
not anyone can become an Art Expert.
No,
not anyone can become an Art Master.
However
and nevertheless, one may not become a scientist without first, understanding
the appreciation for nature and beauty which involves all mathematics, which
involves all high art.
No, not mediocre art because mediocre art
dismisses mathematics and nature and that won’t do. Mediocre art isn’t good
enough for anything but the trash bin.
Not anyone can become a mathematician without
first, understanding the appreciation for aesthetic value and design which is
first taught in nature and then imitated through high art.
If
one doesn’t understand the value of beauty and aesthetics then one doesn’t get
to design, engineer, learn and practice scientific methods and mathematical
values without the substance of life like bread is to wine.
Look;
without art history and art appreciation for the Humanities then we seize to exist because the goal to
having a soul and a spirit and a thinking mind isn’t to get stinking rich without
first, understanding life itself and contributing to this magnificent life.
If you take away from life then life taketh
away from you in one form or another.
We’ll
never run out of room for innovators
and inventors because humanity will always need to adapt and change to our ever
growing needs.
I’ve
come up with innovative ideas in how to clean up the streets of the United
States of America, and those ideas are sitting in a sealed vault because it’s
an idea worth millions of dollars.
Do you really think that I don’t know what
I’m worth?
I don’t think so.
At this rate, my going rate is in the…
Never
mind that figure.
I’m
waiting for young people to come up with better innovations and inventions on
how to get this country up and running more efficiently and properly and when
you do so the dollar bills will roll in however, it’s not about you it’s about what you can do for your country.
‘Honest’
and hard earned wealth doesn’t come without a contribution to humanity, first.
The easiest thing in the entire world is to deforest the Earth, kill off all
the wild sea life and murder the Indigenous Peoples. Why not? Because they can
and so they do.
The
Humanities ought to be a part of each and every Liberal Arts and Business
education because without it we’re just dollar signs and that won’t make love
to you at night. (No, a hooker isn’t the same as love or so I can take a guess
in the dark.)
Just
because the rich don’t have much of an education and they don’t know how to
contribute to humanity except to guard their vast wealth like misers, it
doesn’t mean that the “middle class” and the “working class” and the “working
poor” don’t get a shot at it, because I’m telling you, I’m getting tired of
oily lotions and debunked musical ear plugs and, and, and…
Have
hope.
The
future and your mass fortunes are at your finger tips. There’s plenty to go
around for everyone.
Believe
that you can contribute to this mediocre world of products because I’ll thank
you every single day of my life.
I
thank the products that work for me because I know that behind every great
product is a great innovator and inventor who really thought about every
minutia of detail and went over everything with a fine tooth comb to make my
life a happier and better place for all.
Believe
because I do.
I
dreamed. I worked. I cultivated a world of possibility from nothing.
I’m
here at the drawing board each and every single day. Join me and let’s go
places together because I still have six more years before I can ‘go pass go’
and collect my mass fortune.
Yes,
I have multi-millionaire investors that I’ll have to repay with accrued
interest because this isn’t a favor, this is hard work and they expect a gained
return on their financial investment.
Me,
I’m an asset to so many who expect me to succeed because behind me I’ve got an
ocean of failures.
Believe
me, when I tell you that you can do
it because I’m doing it.
And
when you’ve done it, don’t forget to donate 30% of your annual incomes to the
needy and don’t forget to donate 30% of your profits to the Arts and to the
Humanities because that’s what’ll make you really grateful and intelligent and
that’s what you’ll have to thank for making you smarter than a cowardly
corporate fat cat who can’t decipher between their heads and their arses. (Ha!)
Go
prosper and be happy. I am.
Love;
Gabriel
Word count: 2,822. I made up for last week.