Author Archives: jakestreet

Neuroscience and The Abyss

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Is it possible that all the extrasensory electronic stimulation that as a post modernist society we are all increasingly exposed to are causing some members of the population to fall into a moral and mental abyss? Take the extremely disheartening and disturbing shootings that occurred this past week, which you are familiar with I am sure, and consider the fact that the perpetrator was at times consumed by a video game in which he vicariously killed other humans in a simulated combat game. It would appear and has been documented that such behavior leads to a form of hypoesthesia where an individual becomes desensitized to sensory stimuli to the point where the line between reality and fantasy becomes blurred. This leads directly to a form of deadly nihilism which completely replaces any fragments of feelings or moral code that remain in an already socially confused and alienated individual. As a society we need to be extremely aware of such dangers and the inherent ripple effect that violence has on ourselves and others.

Compare hypoethesia to its’ antonym a condition known as hyperthesia. This is a condition where the senses become heightened. A heightening of the senses as one was perhaps enjoying the wonders of nature. Would this not then logically lead to a form of empiricism? A state in which the very reason one would have to live would be the experience of such full and heightened awareness of touch and feelings? All the senses engaged at once instead of only the senses a video game could provide? Perhaps we should also be acutely aware of the lack of this state in so many of our lives. We have dangerously replaced nature with a poor facsimile. We should take care to recognize this shortcoming of humanities’ electronic creations and make concerted efforts to remedy the lack of nature in our lives. It has been shown that being outside in nature actually helps to lower ones blood pressure, all by itself. Certainly this wouldn’t work if one was being pursued by a wild animal.

This brings us to guns. Do human beings need guns to exist happily? Absolutely not. One of the beautiful advances of modern civilization is the very fact that one can exist peacefully without constant threat of death or pursuit of by wild animals as our ancestors had to endure. For the most part we can live in peace.  Sadly there are times when madmen seek to destroy this peace by blowing things up etc. Instead of emulating the violence that has occurred we should seek to sublimate such events. More video games that have less killing and more civilized behavior would be in order. We must learn to take care of each other lest we end up in a hell world of our very own creation.

“Maybe every other American movie shouldn’t be based on a comic book. Other countries will think Americans live in an infantile fantasy land where reality is whatever we say it is and every problem can be solved with violence.”                   — Bill Maher

“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.” — Isaac Asimov

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

The Grand Old Paralysis

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It seems like the Republican Party is now in its’ death throes in these United States. The message of the party is confused and very twisted. What was once the cause of conservatism has become a cause of hatred. None of the proposals of this party benefit the common citizen of the country. A party like this cannot survive. A sad divided party with confused religious principles and a twisted view of science will inevitably implode as it is already showing signs of doing. Educated people will see through the folly of following such a lost cause.

Despite the stupid notions and hate filled lies of Fox News and the likes of Rush Limbaugh eventually common sense and diplomacy will win out. Violence and hatred never solved anything. Violence and hatred cannot nurture life or the earth, two things that humanity needs to survive. The greed of corporations will not win out either. The attempts of a few to direct the political conversation through bullying and large sums of money is doomed as the people hear and know the truth. The population has reached the point of political advertising saturation. The average American’s BS meters have already gone off the charts. It is not the least surprising that in the Republican’s desperate attempt to retain control they who are in power are attempting to quash and control education everywhere. Education and the scientific principle cause people to question everything!

We must be vigilant and voice our disapproval of these crude methods and show up at the polls and vote this hatred away. We must protect the earth now and cease to destroy our home. If they want to hide the chemicals used in the fracking process obviously something is very wrong. We can’t let them poison our water and then sell us water. We can’t let them poison our food by genetically modifying it to carry toxic levels of pesticide. We can’t allow them to control and patent the seeds of the food we plant. These are just some of the ways that backward political parties seek to control and divide us. The Republican mission has become one to create fear and mistrust of each other to further divide us. These ultimately profit and power oriented motives are evil and must be stopped. It is time to act, stand together unified, and be counted.

We need politicians who believe and act on principles for the greater good. We don’t need ‘Corporate Democrats’ just playing a role to fool us! Education and communication are the keys to lift humanity out of its’ current trajectory towards destruction or dystopia. The notion of money controlling everything will be stopped as this world is witness to a change for the worse all around us. We will see the harmful results of profit as the only motivating force. We must evolve to a system of beliefs where the motivating force is life. We must adopt a philosophy of kindness.

“This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is the temple; the philosophy is kindness.” — Dalai Lama

“It has always seemed strange to me… the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first, they love the produce of the second.” — John Steinbeck

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death in the Produce Aisle; Genetically Modified Truths

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He stood in the produce aisle debating what to eat for dinner that night. Several vegetables caught his eye and brought up visions of culinary delights. The crookneck squash looked particularly delectable with its bright glossy yellow skin. Next to that a bin of ears of corn. The ears were large and firm. They also appeared perfectly edible. The produce person was sorting through the broccoli and arranging fresh bunches. He politely asked the store employee, “are these vegetables genetically modified?”. “I’m really not sure.” answered the broccoli sorter. ‘Hmmm’ the man thought. ‘Maybe I’ll give them a try.’

He tore a plastic bag off the dispenser and loaded it with six ears of corn. Three for a dollar he thought, better get six. As far as the squash he loaded up the bag with what he guessed was two pounds of golden goodness. Curiously as he turned to the scale he noticed a man dressed in camouflage was eyeing him from behind the green beans. ‘That’s strange,’ he thought, ‘what’s he looking at me for?’ He turned and walked up to the next aisle which was filled with condiments including vinegar and salad dressing.

Reaching down to grab a jar of his favorite mayonnaise he felt a strange sensation tearing through his left quadricep. He stumbled back and slammed into the shelf behind him. Several jars of mustard fell on his head and shoulders. He looked up to see the man in camouflage standing over him with a glock pistol. It was aimed squarely at his forehead. “What did I do?” he managed to spit out despite the pain. “Why you were going to buy those genetically engineered vegetables you stupid son of a bitch”, growled the vigilante. “I am going to kill you quick, they would’ve killed you slow!”

‘Great,’ he thought to himself, ‘I am going to be killed by a frikking gun happy lunatic over a dosing of roundup.’ ‘Talk about a genetically modified vegetable, who modified this lunatic’s brain?’ Crack, crack the pistol exhorted. Soon his brains and blood were slowly leaking into the spilled mustard. Mixing into a bizarre dressing on the grocery store floor. “Clean up in aisle five!” the gun happy man proclaimed. “Call the police!” screamed an elderly man.

Five minutes later the police arrived. After the shell shock across the country there were five cruisers pulled up to the front of the store in three minutes flat. Seven policemen surrounded the glock wielding murderer demanding he drop his weapon immediately. Curiously the man complied and gently lowered his shiny pistol to the floor. An officer approached him and began to recite his Miranda rights. When he was finished the trembling man let himself be handcuffed and was led away without a struggle.

“Why did you do it?” the sergeant said as he carefully put the man in the back of the patrol car? “We are all going to die anyway, don’t you see?,” the murderer whispered, “It doesn’t matter anyway, I was just helping him out. If my bullet hadn’t got him he would’ve gotten cancer from those vegetables. We are all being lied to every day. Lies, lies and more lies. Don’t you see it? Nobody gives a damn anymore!” The sergeant closed the car door when the man had finished. ‘How many more of these Goddamn lunatics have guns?’ the sergeant thought to himself.

“I’m not upset that you lied to me, I’m upset that from now on, I can’t believe you” — Friedrich Nietzsche

Get off the cell phone and drive! — Jake Shween

I – 10 East, The Rougarou (Burning Man 14)

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The old pick up fit like a well worn boot. Just sitting in it reminded Roy of how good it always felt after being away for weeks on the oil rig. It started up and the motor made that sound that said let’s go. Roy picked up his water jug and took a swig. He put the gearshift in drive and pulled down the gravel road headed for I-10 East, right through Rougarou alley. He smiled as he remembered the stories his Father used to tell him about the legendary swamp creature. He’d never seen it but he sure knew a lot about it. Apparently it went back to even before the French Acadian settlers had arrived in the area. The local Indians had legends of a hairy beast that lived in the swamp and moved silently through the bayou with the breeze and used the Spanish moss as camouflage.

Roy turned on the radio. The news channel was blathering away about more government surveillance. He was glad at least that it wasn’t news of the blast on the rig. He still hadn’t made up his mind if he wanted to go back. He thought maybe he’d become a fry cook in some seaside town and make shrimp burgers and hush puppies for a while. He’d saved up some money from his time on the rig and maybe it was time for a change. He changed the radio station. WWOZ 90.7 there ya go, he thought, that’s what I need. Wouldn’t ya know it too, like a blast from the past, a time warp, it was Dr. John singing Loop Garoo. The hairs on Roy’s arm bristled up as he heard the strains of the Doctor’s voice. Just like the creature he thought. Looks like I made the right call, the radio is speaking to me now. Come back home it called, gonna pass the days.

Madame Jubal stood in the corner of her shop and pulled a package wrapped in brown paper off a shelf. Gingerly she unwrapped the package and noticed two beercaps slipped out of the wrapping. She chuckled to herself and thought about her Father who must have been the last to wrap it. She took out the framed carving carefully. It was a picture of her Great Aunt from Haiti. The picture was a delicately detailed wood carving that was crafted in such a fashion that it was three dimensional and almost alive. Madame Jubal held it and breathed softly as if she was in the presence of her Great Aunt. The eyes were looking at her. She could feel it. She placed the carving down and lit a candle. Everything in  the shop was suddenly alive, the place was filled with spirits even as the sunshine streamed in the window. Lafitte squawked in his cage: “Company today”.

“Yo sure is right about dat honey. We got company right now!” She sat down in a chair and held a Tarot deck in her hand. The image of her Great Aunt Anacona looked up at her from the table, the eyes on the carving sparkled. Madame Jubal knew something or someone was coming soon.

Roy drove along as the bayou flatland rolled by. He had the windows down and let the warm breezes fill the truck. He’d always loved the smell of the low country. The swampy brackish air had a way of making him feel at home. The radio droned softly now and his mind drifted off. He was thinking about Monique a girl had known in high school. They used to drive this route years ago on their way to visit her Uncle. The road had changed greatly since then. There used to be many places to pull over and quickly get lost but now it was built up and the side roads were largely gone. He often wondered what had happened to Monique. She had left town and married a doctor was the last he had heard. He sighed and looked at the gas gage. It was time for a break, he looked for an exit nearby. He still had an hour to go before Slidell.

Tiger Truck stop, easy on and off, it fit the bill perfectly. Roy pulled in and turned off the engine. He got out of the cab and stretched his legs, locked the door and went inside. Coming out of the convenient store was a fine looking woman. Roy realized he was staring at her. She smiled in her dark sunglasses and held the door for Roy. He literally had to shake himself out of his stare. He swore the woman was Monique but he felt so unsure he said nothing but “Thanks”. “Pas de quoi” she replied in Cajun.

Just then Roy noticed out of the corner of his eye a man in black at the far end of the sidewalk in front of the store. The man was blind as he held a white cane which twitched back and forth like a divining rod. In his other hand he held a lit cigar.  Roy blinked and went inside. The store was busy with truckers and travelers. A fresh pot of coffee was just finishing dripping. Roy gratefully poured a cup. As he turned around the man in black was right behind him. He held out an empty cup towards Roy.

“Do you mind?”

Roy said “not at all” and filled the man’s cup.

“Thank you now, y’all have quite a day ahead.”

Roy stopped. “What now, what’s that you said?”

“I said thank you. You best get going.”

Roy was puzzled by this. He headed to the counter. He wanted to avoid a confrontation. He felt for the opaline talisman. It was there under his shirt. He pulled it out and held it. It felt very cold. He stepped up to the counter to pay, he was going to pay for both coffees but when he turned around the man was gone.

He stepped outside and smelled a cigar! Sure enough there was a cigar on the sidewalk still smoldering. Roy gassed up the truck and glanced around the entire time. The man in black had disappeared completely. Just like the gator and the cottonmouth had done that morning in the swamp. He hopped back in and started down the ramp back on I – 10. He was softly humming the Loop Garoo.

“Sky full of Moon

The Night Owl was born

Gabriel was blowin’

On a little foghorn” — Dr. John, Loop Garoo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contraband Bayou (Burning Man 13)

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He heard the raucous bird cackling loudly nearby. He opened his eye to see the gathering light. The air was misty, there was a light fog obscuring the dawn. He looked over to one side and his breath caught in his throat. A gator laid not 4 feet away. This was quite a specimen, at least ten feet if not thirteen. Its’ enormous head was as large as Roy’s entire upper body. The black eye stared emptily. In fact the eye did not seem to focus on him at all but right through him. He turned to his right and instinctively reached for his pistol. It wasn’t there, he’d left it at home. Shit, he thought to himself, he had to pick today to play superman. He picked up his boot just to be sure. Right behind the boot lay a cottonmouth. Fucking lucky day! Roy thought. Same empty eye, devoid of sense, at least sense that he could understand. He breathed very slowly and put the boot down. As if on cue the serpent silently slithered into the black water. He turned to the other side to check on his other bed mate. The gator was gone. Not a sound, or even a ripple in the swamp. All he could hear was birds, the harbingers of the new day, denizens of Contraband Bayou. If he hadn’t seen the creatures he never would have known they were there.

Roy had spent the last two weeks recuperating at the house where he lived with his aging Mother. He had spent the days drinking voluminous amounts of beer and shooting cans in the backyard. He had wondered about the strange medallion that had come into his possession. It had a timeless quality to it. It somehow seemed familiar. When he asked his Mother about it she said maybe it was from Lafitte’s treasure. She said it must have floated up to him on the log somehow. Maybe a storm had dislodged it from its’ resting place. He wished his Father was still alive. His Father had always claimed he was Lafitte’s descendant. Roy figured it was his Father’s way of coping with his own origin after finding out he’d been adopted. He could never prove his relation to Lafitte but he loved to bring it up after a few drinks. That’s why Roy’s middle name was Jean. It was a reminder of his Father’s supposed heritage. It had brought him here to the Bayou. The legend was there was still treasure here. For Roy it was a spirit quest. He needed answers. He still couldn’t believe he was the only survivor of the rig explosion.

He reached for his pack and retrieved a can of sardines. Food always tasted better when camping. Roy was so hungry it might as well have been brunch at the Hyatt Regency. Yes Mr. Gillespie would you care for another Mimosa? No thanks, this water is fine. Taking a long drink he stood and rubbed his beard. He wrapped up his bed roll and groundcloth. He sat on the roll, laced up his boots then packed up. He looked around for any trace that either he or his bedmates had been there. There was gator tracks in the soft mud. The prints were as long as his boot. The snake had left no discernible  trace. Satisfied his site was clear he trekked off.

He threw open the door of his pickup as he tossed his pack inside the cab. He was thinking about his Father Claude. He thought it was interesting his father had a French name. Roy had looked into the Lafitte connection many times. It was certainly curious that no one could actually pin down where he had died or been buried. The legend that sparked his curiosity the most was one involving Lafitte’s wife. It was said that she was Haitian, part black and a voodoo priestess. That would explain his darker complexion. It was said that Jean Lafitte had divine protection, he had not died in a sea battle but had lived out his life and raised a family in the Caribbean. Roy wanted to believe this, he really did. This was the story that his Father would have liked. Roy suddenly knew where he needed to go, New Orleans.

Madame Jubal went to the front of her shop and arranged the books in the window. Something was brewing today, she knew it. The clock on the wall chimed nine times. It was rare that she was up and about so early. The sunlight caught the steam rising from her tea as she stirred it with a cinnamon stick. “Lafitte we gettin’ company today,” the parrot blinked. “Company today,” he echoed, “company today”.

Waiting On The Trickle Down

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Clem stared at the copper tube winding down from the top of the still. The tip rested on  a porcelain jug that sat on an upturned crate. He was quietly mumbling to himself as he had done every night for the last seven years. “Dang God of the still have mercy, lemme see a trickle down of your blessed juice.” The stool he sat on creaked as his knees knocked together. A fat spider scrambled underneath the copper pot where the fire should have been. The kerosene lamp sputtered. Clem got up and turned the wick up a bit. “Damn” he muttered “seven years and not a drop”.

Just then he heard a rustle in the dirt behind him. He turned around and with a jaundiced eye saw his neighbor Billie standing in the door of the ramshackle shed. “Clem you have plum lost your foolish mind,” proclaimed Billie. “For seven damn years you’ve been huddled over this stinkin’ still every night waiting for a trickle from that cold pot. I told you once I told you a thousand times welladay you got to light a fire for that damn thing to work.” Clem stood up and spat out a chunk of tobacco he’d been roiling in his mouth. “Shaddup Billie. Just shaddup. You know this here is a magic still. I got it from the old still god Ronnie Reagan. He said there is no way it wont work afore he dropped dead.” Billie shook his head. He took off his hat and held it like a preacher. “Clem old pal, every day you work for that mean old straw boss Willard. You give him and his people all your best corn. You shovel out his stables. You done break your back every day working at Rove Farm. Not once have they ever done a thing for you. A man like you oughtta wake up and smell the coffee!”

“Aw hell” Clem grumbled. Billie turned and ceremoniously replaced his hat on his head and walked away into the night. “Plum foolish old coot, be dead afore he sees a trickle.” As Billie got further away his words echoed in Clem’s head. Clem thought to himself what he had been told. If he did what the straw boss Willard told him to do everyday. If he kept the Rove farm clean and free of undesirables. If he gave all his best corn up to them. The magic Reagan still was supposed to trickle down. He imagined in his head hundreds of full jugs of the sweet elixer. He remembered that Reagan once told him that: “Facts are stupid things.” In his mind he agreed. He was glad Billie had gone. He sat back down on the stool, his knees knocked together. He grabbed another wad of tobacco and took up his mumbling. “Dang God of the still have mercy, lemme see a trickle down of your blessed juice.”

“Facts are stupid things.” — Ronald Reagan

“Money doesn’t talk it swears.” — Bob Dylan from the song: It’s Alright Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

Blog for Putin, Ford MIA, God on Climate Change

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In a fit of despotic behavior the Emperor of Russia, the bear wresting hero of the Right Wing Nut Job elite, (including the Razzie nominated Steven Seagal), one Vladimir Putin has restricted blogging in the evolving country of Russia. He must have read something that gave him heartburn and inspired him to call for all blogs within Russia to be State registered and approved. Brilliant choice by Vladimir perhaps now his joke writing staff of retired KGB agents and the comic genius Eddie Snowden can get some actual hits on the what will now be the world famous blog: The KGB, The NSA and Me an Internal Triangle. We can’t wait to see what comes of this wonderfully oppresive move. We’re betting on more Pussy Riot!

Across the world in another Northern land the infamous Mayor of the beautiful Canadian city of Toronto, Rob Ford, has gone Missing in Action. The truth is after being recently captured on another crack cocaine camera opportunity/adventure he was finally convinced it was time for some timely intervention. On his way to rehab in Chicago, the city of choice for cocaine lovers, he was refused admission into the United States by Customs Officials. According to our sources he disappeared but is now somehow in rehab at an undisclosed location. Perhaps he’s in one of those ‘Speakeasy’ Rehabs that Chicago is famous for. We wish him a speedy recovery as his antics are needed in our world as we grow closer to the release of Godzilla.

Today we were able to reach God by phone. He was sleeping with three angels at the time and was a bit cranky at having been awakened. Yes, if you’re curious, he calls them ‘Charlie’s Angels’, we have never known God to go the other way. We immediately asked him if it was his will to impose this climate change thing, who he sleeps with is his own business. God told us in no uncertain terms in no damn way is he monkeying around with the climate. Everything that’s happening is our own fault. He said that: “The last time I interfered  I was drinking scotch and smoking hashish and things went terribly wrong. I blacked out and woke up with a devil of a hangover. Never again, it’s all your free will now boys and girls.”

“Glad I could clear things up for you.” — Jake Shween

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

The Author expresses his condolonces and sadness at the loss of Farley Mowat. He was a gifted author and a champion of environmental causes and will be missed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GOP Sensitivity Training in the District of Capitalism

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It has been announced that the Grand Old Party will be requiring its’ members to undergo ‘sensitivity training’ to aid the party in attracting more women and minority voters. This might be a great success if undergone properly and with the correct supervision. Forget Frank Luntz and the idea of a Weekend at Bernie’s . This entire procedure will require the most rigorous treatment processes not unlike the brainwashing given to the lead character Alex in the famous Stanley Kubrick film, A Clockwork Orange. (Based on the book of the same name by Anthony Burgess.)

Short of being born again here are some suggestions for GOP members:

1. Work in a fast food restaurant. Yes you read that right. Each member shall be required to complete at least 400 hours at a fast food restaurant of the independently appointed therapist’s choosing. They will not receive any special treatment as they must remain incognito for their entire term of employment. During this time their regular pay will go to charity and they will be forced to live on the minimum wage even if it means they will lose their posh DC digs. They will not be allowed to use any outside money during this time to supplement their income. They must undergo the process and humiliation of applying for food stamps and government assistance like a regular American citizen.

2. Pick vegetables with migrant workers. Each member will be assigned to live with a migrant workers family during the growing season. As above they will remain incognito. If language is a barrier they will be required to learn a foreign language. The foreman of each farm will work closely with the independently appointed therapist to make sure that each member makes their quota regardless of age, race or creed. They will not be allowed to join any union or receive any benefits during this part of their sensitivity training since they will be considered to be in the country illegally.

3. They will spend two months living with pensioners who were robbed of their pensions. Perhaps Detroit will be a good city to relocate some of the members to for this next phase of their reprogramming (since nothing short of reprogramming will bring about an epiphany). They will contribute nothing at this point but their advice on how to live on very little. In the event that there are not enough pensioners willing to take in these Beltway Bullies, they will be assigned to live with social security recipients across the country whether they be retired or on permanent disability.

4. Environmental concerns are the next phase of the sensitivity training. Each member will spend at minimum two months assisting in a cleanup of an environmental disaster. Oil spills will be a good place to train the members and give them hands on conditioning, exposure to the toxic sludge as well as a little bit of concern for the environment which they seem more than willing to destroy for the sake of corporate profits and unabated greed. If an oil spill is unavailable which seems highly unlikely they will be assigned to clean up a train wreck. Perhaps then they might see that the expense of automated braking systems for all trains is more than worth the cost of freight and human life.

5. After they complete the above training a crucial phase in the sensitivity process begins. Each member must sit in and assist a rape counselor for a minimum two month time period. They must endure the pain and tears of the victims and begin to empathize with what it feels like to have ones’ dignity and self worth violated in a single act of senseless violence. At this point the rape counselor will keep the sensitivity therapist apprised of the progress or lack thereof of each member. Since this is an especially crucial part of their training, each member will be given a performance evaluation upon completion of this phase. If they are successful they may now return to Capitol Hill.

All records of their training will be made public and posted on the internet. These are our Public Servants and as such there will be complete and utter transparency in all phases of their reintroduction to political life.

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“One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feelings. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child.” — Dr. Carl G. Jung

“Instead of being presented with stereotypes by age, sex, color, class, or religion, children must have the opportunity to learn that within each range, some people are loathsome and some are delightful.” — Margaret Mead

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween

One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feelings. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/c/carljung108028.html#xWI8eXu2dKb63RTs.99

One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feelings. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child.

Carl Jung

Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/c/carljung108028.html#xWI8eXu2dKb63RT

The Supreme Court Needs an Update

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The highest court of the United States is in a dire need of an update. The current process of a justice’s nomination by the President who is in office at time of a justice’s death or retirement, followed by the nominee’s Congressional approval, has left us a court with a diseased and prejudiced mandate. We need to change to a system whereby the justices are elected by a majority of the people. This has become overwhelmingly obvious based on recent decisions. The highest court of the land has been highjacked by angry biased men, perhaps even vindictive men, with a very fixed set of agenda that does not consider the good of the country but only the benefit of a select few.

Jurisprudence, by its’ very definition, implies a common sense interpretation of the law. Instead we have a court in which the majority relies on a sense of exclusion, a catering to the elite, the wealthy, the constrained. No longer is the court basing its’ decisions on the will of the people, it has become the will of the corporate elite, in short an oligarchy. This is leading dangerously to a government teetering between a democracy and a plutocracy. It is said that every one has a price and it has become apparent that the majority of justices have been bought.

Sadly this is evident in recent deplorable decisions that would leave the Founding Father’s literally gobsmacked. We need to carry on the pure ideals of Democracy if we are to survive as a Democracy. The world and the multinational corporations that have usurped control are turning the globe into a giant Monopoly game. If you’ve ever played the game eventually all the resources and money are controlled by the few and everybody else has to pay and pay. Senator Elizabeth Warren, the bold and unflinching senator from Massachusetts has framed this reality quite succintly by stating: “The Game is rigged!”

No longer is the Republican Party the voice of the people. It has become the voice of corporate America. They are not conservative now. They are greedy, prejudice and irresponsible. Be not deceived however, all Democrats are not created equal. There are Democrats who would gladly uphold the corporate oligarchy just as the Republicans are attempting to do. The original purpose of establishing the Supreme Court as a branch of the Federal Government was to safeguard against such an environment. They were to exercise jurisprudence, a practical application of the law based on common sense for the benefit of the majority of the citizens of the United States of America. It is time we hold their feet to the fire before it’s too late!

We need to modernize the nomination process. Make it so that the Presidential appointment is not approved by Congress but instead by a public election. Another possibility is each Justice, upon announcement of their retirement, nominates their own successor, which again would require an election and be subjected to approval by the majority. The courts weild too much power and judges need to be vetted the same way we question our elected officials before the vote. We must amend the Constitution. The Constitution must be able to evolve with the times. The prescience of the Founding Fathers cannot be denied; however there is no way they could have foreseen the current boondoggle we find ourselves in and have written in a precise clause to protect our Democracy. It is up to us now as informed citizens of the United States to amend the Constitution and preserve its’ original intent. A government by the People, of the People and for the People. Not a government by the rich, of the rich and for the rich.

“Those who stand for nothing fall for anything!” — Alexander Hamilton

“Power over a man’s subsistence is power over his will.” —Alexander Hamilton

Get off the cell phone and Drive — Jake Shween

U.S. Constitution Is Like the Bible; Keep What You Like Ignore the Rest!

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Ever notice how certain manipulative people edit out parts of books that might endanger their credibility? Take that old glorious manual written by men out in the desert all those thousands of years ago, the Holy Bible. How many times have you heard that book edited and rewritten, misquoted and selectively cited? Usually it is cleverly manipulated in the name of raising more money for one or another ministries that promise to provide you with abundance if you send them some ridiculous tithe of your hard earned cash. Did Moses ever refer to tithes? No. Did Elijah or Elisha ever ask for one tenth of your earnings? No. How about the big guy, the number one, the lord, the Savior, did Jesus Christ himself ever ask for a tithe? No, in fact he turned over the tables of the money changers who were selling sacrifices with which the Jews were using to make atonement. In fact in only one book of the Bible is the tithe ever mentioned and that is in the book of the lesser prophet Malachi but when you listen to the television evangelists or hey, the pastor down the street from your house, more often than not they won’t straight up tell you like it is. They want your hard earned cash to gas up their tax exempt Mercedes Benz!

It seems now the United States Constitution is now open to the same selective interpretation. In light of the recent Boston bombings some would now redefine the rights of United States citizenship and try the one surviving psycho as a “military combatant”. Interestingly, but not coincidentally, these are the very same people who take the second amendment to read that United States citizens have the right to bear arms including Bushmaster rifles and AK-47s which are weapons designed with killing people in mind and nothing else. Thank goodness these very same people, mainly the strange conglomeration of vitriol filled dunces on Fox News, were not the people who drafted the Constitution to begin with. However, they are very reminiscent of these crazy ministries that want you to think their way lest you be ostracized and left out in the cold where “there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth”. They support the seedy misinformed party that would manipulate you right into the nineteenth century.

To continue on the idea of tithing it is now past April 15th. We have paid our dues to Uncle Sam. So our sense of nationalism and patriotism is to some degree defined by our willingness to continue to fund the governments of our cities, states and nation. It is up to each of us then, as citizens, to carefully oversee where this money is spent. In a democracy such as ours the majority should rule. How is it that we cannot enact a stricter gun control statute when the majority of people overwhelmingly approve of such a measure? Suddenly we are being taxed without representation! The slick and slimy elected officials are ignoring the demands of the people and trying once again to manipulate our freedom! We need to be sure the money we have paid into the system is well spent and we aren’t being swindled and lied to! Let’s stop paying these fast talking elected officials who ignore the people and serve the plutocracy. Don’t waste our tax money dammit! It is time to change the number of senators elected per state to reflect the population of each state. We’re paying for this!

“Never believe that a few caring people can’t change the world. For, indeed, that’s all who ever have.” — Margaret Mead

Get off the cell phone and Drive! — Jake Shween