Occupy Karma

Grievously Lost In The Political Dialogue

Jay Leonard Schwartz Dialogues, Occupy Karma , , , , , , ,
Face_of_Statue_of_Liberty
I was doing time in the universal mind. I was feeling fine. 
I was turning keys, I was setting people free. 
I was doing all right. 
Then you came along, with a suitcase and a song. Turned my head around. 
Now I’m so alone, just looking for a home in every place I see. 
I’m the freedom man. That’s how lucky I am. 
– The Doors, Universal Mind 

Suffice it to say that I am my own worst enemy. “Don’t discuss sports, politics or religion”, I’ve often been told over and over by those who espouse mediocrity in the name of gaining more followers and building readership. “Stay away from socially sensitive topics”, I’ve been admonished. “Tell your story”, I’ve been told. “Fair enough”, I’ve answered, yielding a pensive pregnant pause, a harbinger of rebuttal. “However”, the boom is lowered, “as the conversations of my life manifest on a daily basis, and I seem to exist on a day to day basis”, I smile, “then all I can really do is share with you all how twisted some of these conversations are.” Yes, it’s easy to get lost in the discussion, and in my doing so you will learn volumes about who I am. “So let’s start with politics” he says as a groan is heard escaping somewhere from the bowels of a ‘platitude’ just north of hell.

It’s difficult to know where the conversation began. Most likely I pissed someone off as usual merely because I stated my opinion, which to be honest was probably more an exercise of my playing the devil’s advocate than my speaking from the depths of my own conviction. Nevertheless, despite my incessant ‘teasing the cat with a bit of string’ at some point my feelings in earnest do tend rise to the fore, meeting the occasion head on. Now mind you, I’m not a politician, nor am I really a student of politics. But I do know where I stand and on what soapbox my heart bleeds. There are some issues over which I become incensed, inflamed, stupefied, and just down right outraged … but never indignant.

This particular conversation occurred between ‘Heart Bleeder’ and ‘Freedom Man’, the former a so called Liberal, the latter a self-possessed Libertarian. Now, I do have a bone to pick with Libertarians, especially the ones who claim ‘liberty and freedom’ and apparently suggest that they know what the framers of the constitution originally had in mind, which is apparently what we all seem to have forgotten over the years. Yeah, I almost forgot they ‘love them some guns’ and think that in a true free market, a little hamburger shack opened in a formerly abandoned ‘Fotomat’ booth will be able to compete with McDonald’s, Burger King, and Wendy’s. In other words, they don’t have a clue, but celebrate their right to live in denial anyway.

The conversation is joined already in progress. Trust me, you haven’t missed much…

Freedom Man:
So the question is for whose benefit will said regulations and statutes in reality be composed, especially given the fact that they are written by politicians beholden to Big Business?
Heart Bleeder:
If you are answering your own question, what’s the point in asking? Still, the obvious answer is to dispense with ‘Big Business’ and its corruptive influence and power.

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Not Born On The Fourth Of July

Jay Leonard Schwartz Occupy Karma , , , , , ,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
– Francis Scott Key, The Star Spangled Spammer
 
Today is Independence Day for the United States of America. It’s also two days before my birthday. I thought I’d just mention that. Yes, I could have been a Yankee Doodle Dandy, born on the 4th of July. My mom had gone into the hospital on the day with contractions. I once asked her about being in labor on the holiday, but she just claimed she had remembered being sick with nausea, and throwing up—while a trailer for the film, Mutiny On The Bounty, was being shown on TV.
 
Meanwhile, a little rambunctious bouncing baby boy, yet to be born, bided his time and stayed put, opting to be fashionably late. Mutiny on Bounty, indeed! 
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Duck, Cover, Kiss Your Butt Goodbye. Really!

Jay Leonard Schwartz Occupy Karma , , ,
“All the waste in a year from a nuclear power plant can be stored under a desk.” 
– Ronald Reagan
Yesterday, there were a couple news articles that caught my attention. The first was about residents from Fukushima nuclear disaster area who have radioactive urine. I don’t know about you, but that makes my hair stand on end. It’s just one more reason why I’m happy I don’t have a microwave oven and am trying to limit my mobile phone use. Really.
The other troubling news item was an article suggesting that US nuclear evacuation plans haven’t been updated to account for population growth. It seems that according to statistics based on the US Census information, urban populations around nuclear power plant facilities have ballooned 450 percent. So what that means is that if you live in an area near a nuclear power plant and your regular drive home from work is a slow, painful and maddening exercise of slowly crawling along with bumper to bumper ‘stop and go’ congested rush hour traffic … well, then you already know what your evacuation route driving conditions will be in the event of a nuclear accident, such as a meltdown. Seriously. Really.
If you are one of those types that like to wave off ‘doom and gloom‘ scenarios dismissing them as ‘what if’ fantasies, then I guess I need to remind you of the disasters at Three-Mile Island, Chernobyl, and Fukushima disasters. Yes, nuclear power plants are not the fool-proof safe facilities that governments and industries purport them to be. Really.

Frigging Fructose Festers Fears

Jay Leonard Schwartz Occupy Karma , ,

Warning: The following blog post will make you sick, but if you’re like me, not as sick as you already are.

Let’s begin with the fact that I am an emotional eater. There, I’ve said it. I freely admit that I can eat myself sick and all in the name of stress relief. That’s right. In some twisted way I’ve come to falsely believe that on any given day my habitually eating myself into oblivion will momentarily ease my life’s chronic daily tension. Yes, I know that I can’t stem the tide of life’s indignities with junk food or even health food, but knowing as such has never caused me to muster the energy required to facilitate ‘mind over matter’ (i.e. put that fork down, step away from the table).

As I wedge that last chunky morsel of hot dog bun into my mouth, I realize the sad reality that the orgasmic second of stress release I’m craving is fleeting; it comes and goes and is replaced by that beached whale like bloating feeling in my gut. Lord, where did I ever get the idea that eating brings stress release? As I reach for another slice of key lime pie, I have to wonder if I was born this way, or if somehow I’ve been programmed to behave like this. Genetics? Nature vs. nurture? Or, … just plain old conspiracy.

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Lethal Carnage: Guns, Politics, Victims and The American Way

Jay Leonard Schwartz Occupy Karma , , , , , ,
Victims of the Tuscon, Arizona rampage.

There are some things that are just too hard to swallow. On January 8th in Tucson, Arizona, a clearly deranged 22-year old, Jared Loughner, purchased ammunition from a Walmart, took a taxi to a Safeway supermarket where a political meet-and-greet was being staged by U.S. Representative Gabrielle Giffords, and then opened fire on Giffords and her constituents because … he wasn’t happy with her response to a question of his at a previous political rally. The incident left 14 wounded and 6 people dead, including a judge and 9-year old Christina Green.

Yes, there are some things that are hard to swallow. One such being that “we the people” of the United States have brains. This is obviously not the case because we continue to allow gun-related tragedies to occur. Really, it pains to me write this, because I would like to believe that despite soaring crime, violence, racism, and politically correct intolerance we are a nation of humane, rational, peace loving people. I would like to believe that Michael Moore was wrong in his depiction of us in his film “Bowling for Columbine” as phobic gun loving sheep willing to be brain washed by political rhetoric, big business and organized religion. I would like to believe that lessons have been learned in the wake of the horrific tragedy this past week in Tucson, Arizona. But, you know what? I’m wrong on all counts: None of the above is correct.

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