In Violation of International Treaty Law, Federal Government Evicting Standing Rock this Afternoon

This post if from Wednesday, but it still contains very important info including a great interview on the legal history.  Please see the original link at: https://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/in-violation-of-international-treaty-law-federal-government-evicting-standing-rock-this-afternoon-wcz/

sir nordi.

Every first week of the month, I go to the Winking Lizard to get the “glass of the month” – a drink special that comes in glassware you get to keep.  Well, because the restaurant is called The Winking Lizard, I also always get to watch the lizard on display.  In the Northfield branch, this lizard is named Sir Nordi and he lives in a small glass room with a few branches, fake leaves, and mulch.

I guess the Winking Lizard iguanas never bothered me too much when I compared them to Miss Hasegawa of Rector (now Mrs. MacLean of Vancouver)’s little window cage for 5th grade science when we would watch Sir Newton scroll up and down his window branch.  (What’s up with the knight names, anyway?)  But Sir Newton had a great life.  He only spent certain times in that window.  He was constantly interacting with students, and most of us had the privilege of bringing him home (except for me – I was saddled with the white mouse collection one spring break, but I never won the honors of housing Sir Newton).  In other words, Sir Newton was caged, but he was loved and he got a lot of time to roam around.

Sir Nordi on the other hand…. he lives a much sadder life.  Rarely do people realize he is an iguana.  Most people just ignore him, or maybe press their faces to the glass and tap on the window.  Sir Nordi looks lethargic most of the time, but, if you stick around during the right hours, you will see how often he scratches at the glass panes like he knows he’s caged and he just wants to get out.

I used to think that animals were satisfied in cages that represented their natural habitats.  But when I see Sir Nordi, I realize this is not the case.  Sir Nordi really hates his little Northfield, Ohio prison.  He hates watching kids and adults alike poke at him, seeing daily life pass by, never doing more than walking the same branch and scratching the same pane of his little prison.  Sir Nordi isn’t happy.  Maybe he knows he’s safe from harm and always has food, but that kind of assurance doesn’t replace natural freedom.  The little attention he gets at night when someone cleans his cage and feeds him isn’t nearly enough to be happy.

This is why I hate zoos.

my greatest fear.

I’m afraid of heights.  I’m not a fan of tight spaces.  Loud noises and bright lights horrify me, especially in the dark when I’m alone.  I don’t like walking in the woods at night.  People, in general, terrify me . These are simple fears.

Perhaps even bigger than those simple fears is my fear of vastness.  The kind of vastness that makes you feel small in a physically vulnerable sense.  Like being alone in a crowd, wondering if you’re surrounded by an army of enemies or just that one crazy guy with a knife and sticky fingers.  Like outer space, a frontier we pretend we know about but are really just fools for pretending like we can handle and explore it.  Like great spaces in the atmosphere, open stages for gravity and better evolved organisms who can fly.  Or like the depths plunging into the core of the earth, like a void opening and you have no say in where you’re falling.  But even worse, to me, is the ocean: you can drown in a puddle, but the ocean gives you that opportunity a thousand trillion times over.  A water that only makes you thirstier.  A depth so deep it would crush you.  An entire planet – the origin of life – still submersed and unknown and perfectly unaware of our feeble existence.  Waves with uncertain power and height.  The Loch Ness monster.

But no, I don’t fear those things at all.  I fear an underlying factor.  I fear: losing control.

I’m afraid of falling, of being crushed, of being overpowered.  I’m afraid of not having a say in what happens to me or how.  That’s my greatest fear, and truly my only fear.  When they say having one fear and it’s fear itself, I think it might be what they’re trying to say: fear of something overcoming you, out of your control, because that is, in a way, fear.

Fear is my own mind.  It’s my perception, my reception, my curiosity and consequent fulfillment.  Maybe that’s why I like Sylvia Plath so much – she, too, feared losing control, at least until she gained control by shutting her head in an oven.  (Her quotes in bold/italics.)

Is there no way out of the mind? 

I fear my own mind because it’s my greatest critic.  It’s never satisfied, always wanting to learn, analyze, and criticize.  Usually, I’m its only subject.  And as my most intimate judge, my mind pains me when it disapproves – as it does so often.  It’s never enough, I’m never enough, and its thoughts are impossible to escape because they are always there, silent but perpetually heard.  An unspoken speech that you already knew was coming because, well, you made it.

I’m afraid of being left to my own devices sometimes, despite always craving time for reflection – or feeling grounded.  But being alone so much can blur the lines between alone and lonely.  I start to compare myself and wonder if the life I’m living is a socially healthy one – or if being social is in actual human nature, not just the society-inflicted one.  I’m always trying to imagine a myriad of life scenarios, wondering which are the most rewarding.  Knowing I can’t control the outcome of anything.  Feeling that hopelessness and loss of control all over again.  Become evermore aware of my insanity.

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.

But gaining control is this odd balance that actually requires letting go of it altogether.  It’s like investing a trust in something and someone else.  Not the kind of trust you hand over, but the kind that is inherently rooted there and which continues to blossom.  It’s being able to walk away from your house with all your doors unlocked and not thinking about it, your house of course being your soul.  And when you find that kind of freedom, and you’re able to carry it across all aspects of your life – well, I think that’s when you’ve finally conquered the fear of losing control, because you’ve embraced it.  You’ve gained control by losing it in the greatest sense of the irony.

I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free.

When you find a home in what you do and with whom you spend your time, and the only thing you can do in that place and presence is to go as you are, and couldn’t imagine not being yourself, and fear or want of something else is trivial and ridiculous… That’s how it is to be free.

Where American Desensitization Does and Doesn’t Lack

For anyone who might not know, desensitization is quite literally being no longer sensitive to something.  It is a hot topic in the modern world.  There is growing concern in America for how desensitized the younger generations are becoming.  However, I see this fear as slightly ironic; for whilst we are becoming desensitized to some matters, we are hypersensitive to others.

I’d like to argue that our desensitization began with the World Wars.  Media became a huge part of society.  Women, blacks, veterans, even prohibitionists… people were standing out in ways they hadn’t before to make their points and make them heard.  Kids and young adults whose family arose from so much poverty, warfare, and other turmoil were ready to let go.  Then there came the age of Rock and Roll – the perfect cure.  A remedy to the youth, but a curse to the older generations who were clinging to their Bibles and traditions and morals.

This divergence in society is much like the bipartisan divide of our political views.  Conservatives and liberals.  Elvis Presley woke the generations to the sounds of a music revolution.  His successors included Jimmy Hendrix and Janis Joplin.  No longer was it sound and trends that were shocking the culture, but now we passed through a Hippie era with an openness to drug abuse, drinking, letting loose, and noncommittal sex.  Parents cringed at this, and understandably so.  But cracking down on such behavior only enticed rebellious attitude and an association of “coolness” with anarchy-inspired trains of thought.  Self-harm.  Harming others.  Global conflict plastered across kid’s TVs on their video games.

We have looked for a way out of our old lives and flung it into the open.  The media has snatched it up like it does with anything and accelerated this movement.  Kids are glued to TV and the Internet, exposed to global horrors and social degrade faster than our grandparents could have ever imagined.  But now we try to protect them.  We fought for our freedoms in this country, but now we are trying to contain the personal expression we’ve allowed ourselves to utilize in the past.

Cues Hypersensitivity.

“You can’t teach kids that in school!” or “You can’t teach just one perspective!  You have to teach them all.”  “Treat women like equals!  Sexism is a thing of the past!” then “Don’t give women special treatment because that’s sexist!”  These are just some examples.  Basically, POLITICAL CORRECTNESS.  It is sooo dumb.  I could say, “It is sooo retarded” and someone would have a fit.  You can’t say this word, you can’t say that word.  You can’t call someone that name, but they can say that word.  You’re going to hurt someone’s feelings.  Do you want me to hold your hand too?  I mean, people get upset about things that don’t even relate to them!  They take offense in things that don’t bother the people who are actually affected!

Check out this article: http://bleacherreport.com/articles/296783-the-wussification-of-america-how-hypersensitivity-distorts-perception

As the author states, “We have become so damn sensitive in our continued pursuit of equality that we are beginning to tip the scales toward isolative advantage for the easily offended.”  And it’s so true.  But, how could it be then we are so desensitized and hypersensitive at once?

It’s all interrelated, I think.  It’s all about freedom.  It’s all about expression.  It’s all about manners and how we present ourselves in society.  And a lot of it has to do with how the media reacts to certain tidbits of information and how it regurgitates others.  The cure?  There may not be one.  This divergence might continue until it is a division.  But, in the meantime, we can strive to practice full openmindedness, avoid judgment and hypocrisy, and not take personal offense to someone practicing his or her freedom of speech which we have struggled to protect for each and every last one of us.

Fear not the future and have faith in the country to which you have chosen to devote yourself in exchange for your freedoms, freedoms which you should protect for your own sake as well as others.  Peace.

International Independence… and the One Great Thing about Taxes and American Sports

As Americans, our sovereignty is at stake.  We have come to interpret “freedom” as meaning “inherited right to anything and everything I want”.  One common train of thought seems to be: “If they have it, then I want it too because you can’t tell me I’m not entitled to it.”

Between these mindsets and our constant need to push each other down and come out on top, we are ruthlessly taking advantage of cheap foreign labor and superfluous fine imports.  We fail to recall the novelty in our scant American-made products, thereby refusing to invest in and support the services of our own brothers.  Meanwhile, we continue to race our imports around the world and across our draught-impacted expanses, devouring energy sources we don’t have and undermining our own global independence.

America might be balanced on its high-horse now, but one little upset and what’s going to keep it standing on its own two feet?  What has become of our fighting spirit, of our national pride?  Have we forgotten the centuries of struggle that granted us these now abused freedoms?  Will it take an outside threat on our freedom to remind us that, despite its being a misnomer, freedom doesn’t come for free?

According to Economy in Crisis, the purchase of consumer goods in the US constitutes 70% of its economic growth.  That same 70% translates to 30% of global spending.  Yes, that means 5% of the world population (the US) contributes to 21% of the global spending through our consumer good purchases alone!  Here is a breakdown from Tax Foundation (http://www.mymoneyblog.com/the-average-americans-spending-breakdown.html) of American major spending from 2006:

32% of our spending goes to taxes.  These taxes, federal or not, contribute to the expenses of running our country, like paying for our infrastructure, our school systems, and our financial programs.  Feel confident in at least knowing that 1/3 of your expenses are going directly towards keeping the dialysis machine of the US running.  Then there is your 14% for health and medical care, which is applied to you, your benefactors, and the companies that make your insurance possible.  So that’s not too bad.

How about that transportation?  You’re spending an average of 8% of your income going places.  In the old days, those expenses came down to what it cost to buy a horse, to feed that horse, and to feed the people who took care of the horse and maybe even built that wagon for you.  Nowadays, we are importing foreign-assembled cars or cars with foreign parts, supporting foreign engineering and cheap labor, then burning fuels we dragged across the polluted open seas.  Our infrastructure might have been paid for by the government with our taxes, but what about the American companies contracted to complete the job?  Are all of those steel piles made of American steel?  What about that bulldozer?  Is it American-made?  The parts?  The fuel to run it?  Hmm.

That is exactly how to view the 17% of your income which goes to housing: importing trees and metals to complete the task of building new homes, importing fuels to run appliances, oh – and buying foreign appliances,… 4% on clothing and accessories which are most likely made in Bangladesh or some other country that you couldn’t even find on a map if you were asked, but whose residents are forced to accept meager wages because that’s what it takes to keep up the exporting demands in those poor countries, the exporting demands that you support by purchasing these “slave labor” items.

Then there is the 8% for food.  But we don’t exactly maintain our own rice paddies in the US.  We do, however, have extensive coastlines and yet our seafood imports are outrageous.  In fact, here is one breakdown from the FDA:

It’s funny, they always tell us how the three things needed for survival are Water, Food, and Shelter.  Water, we’ve got plenty of it.  That probably goes in to the smallest fraction of housing spending, less than 1% or the 17% that is dedicated to Shelter as a whole.  So, in other words… our Three Things Needed to Survive comprise of 25% of our total spending.  (I wonder, did they factor in beer?)

That leaves us with 11% for “All Other Days”… What is that, vacation?  Savings?  (I’ll admit, that one is a bit ambiguous, but I didn’t make this chart.)  And, finally, my last point: 6% for recreation.  Things you do for fun.  Hobbies and activities.  Even if your karate teacher came from Korea, he is now American.  One great thing about this category is it most likely consists of an American or mostly-American pastime.  American films seen at theatres with American workers, American amusement parks and nature reservations run by more Americans (and even government positions),… and how about sports?  Truly American sports would be basketball, baseball, and football.  I mean, in terms of modern times, how American can you get?  Amen to that 8%.

So the next time you feel like being American and protecting our global independence and overall sovereignty, go to a baseball game, grab yourself a Yuengling, and take solace in the fact that UnderArmor is made in the USA (although your fan shirt may not be).

An interesting article about non-American US Olympic uniforms: http://www.latimes.com/news/politics/la-pn-capitol-hill-joins-criticism-of-made-in-china-us-olympic-uniforms-20120712,0,1586224.story