My Take

So, like every one else in our wonderful country, I have been inundated with the horrible events in Charlottesville. While the emergence of these white supremacists groups since #45 usurped the White House is tragic and does not represent any of the values that I grew up with as an American and Veteran, I have seen something that disturbs me even more.

The emergence of the Stats and Bars and Nazi flags. On Facebook alone, almost every other post has some kind depiction of one or both of those representations of repression and hate.

IMHO by plastering photos of those flags all over the media will only normalize them---and that is the first step to accepting them and the ideology they represent.

Having said all of the above, I do understand that the Stars and Bars, for some, represents more than hate and repression, but for the vast majority of the population, it is an evil reminder of a dark and oppressive past.

And now for something a little different. My experience at the VA

I guess you could say it all started out back in the days of my youth. I thought that if I went into the Navy my life would magically be come better. 

Well, it has taken a few years, but that wish may have finally come true. Maybe a better start to this story would be with Obama care and the fact that everyone should get insurance. Well, I fell into the hole between getting subsidized insurance and anything else. You gotta love North Carolina!

At any rate, the VA stepped up and is giving me some health care! Yay! I filled out some forms and they called me and said I was good to go. All I had to do was show up and we could get started. 

I got there at 8 A.M. for an 8:30 appointment. I did the things they told me to and expected to have everything take a whole bunch of time. My nurse was calling my name at precisely 8:30. She was professional and very friendly and helpful. She had her things to do and say before I got to see the doctor, who was just was as accommodating.

I gotta say the layout of the building was a little difficult to figure out, but I think in the future my site memory will help me to get to the places I need to go. The idea of naming hallways like streets seemed a little funky, but the labels may help those like me to remember directions later.

I was given 3 different assignments, one to get blood work done, another for a couple of X-rays the last was for an EKG. All of the departments were ready for me when I arrived. While the wait for the blood work was a little longer than I wanted, they were pushing patients through at break neck speed---so many people ahead of me.

The other two places had a wait list of less then 5 minutes, not even enough time to pull out my iPhone to check out what was going on outside. Actually, that was just as well, because WIFI and Internet seemed to be nonexistent throughout.

While I waiting for the EKG, I received a call from another doctor at the VA who was notified by my main Doctor that I should have an appointment. We made arrangements for an hour from then.

This one was the longest appt. of all. Four hours after it started, we finally finished. I thought maybe I had done something wrong because it seemed like this guy was trying to execute me. At first he was prodding me with something like a stun gun and when that did not work he started injecting me with needles! Actually, he was trying to track some nerve system issues.Yep, I got them all right. 

Now because I went to these guys, I know about these issues. And now I have a team of medical people out there to help me find ways to fix them.

At the age of 18, I did not think about health care and how to take care of myself when I turned 50 and later. In all honesty, I was not thinking, yet that decision was prescient. The fact that our government has seen fit to create the Veteran's Administration to take care of those who were willing to die for our country may be one of the most telling and profound reasons to be an American.

olc

Wondering what they are thinking

OK, so this may be a little politically incorrect, but until some one can convince me otherwise...

Any one who is at all aware of the world around them knows about the migration from northern Africa to Europe.  It is a big deal, my words do it little justice, causing major problems rippling throughout the whole world. Truly, I cannot even imagine the hardships involved to both the residents who hhave remained and those fleeing their homes' depression.

I was listening to an interview on NPR with one of the migrants from Syria. The man, a teacher, is married with at least one child and another on the way, and is looking for a better life for himself, and I hope his family.

The first thing he had to say was life was getting too bad and dangerous for him. So he left his family stuck someplace in war-torn Syria to "find a better life."

I would like to think I would handle it differently. Now let's remember, I am an arm chair progressive with high ideals and little to back them up. But leaving one's child and pregnant wife in a war zone to "find a better life," may not be the best way to protect one's family.

olc

Memorial Day 2015, My rant.

In a past life I was in the United States Navy. My time serving our country was a difficult one, at least for those of us serving. It was post Viet Nam, and moral was low, one may say it sucked. As we all know though, "Life is what we make it."

I am not a good creator, though.

When I was assigned to the USS Wainwright, I was young and naive. The truth is, I have not grown very much since then. Now I am older and am still kinda stupid, yet I have an understanding of the roll my ship had in the global theater. It was minor, yet my ego makes me wonder just how critical.

The Wainwright, while I was aboard, made many political manoeuvres, yet we never really did anything overtly aggressive. We participated in the subversive and closed wars of Reagan. I don't know what would have happened if my ship had not been where she was, yet I know we would not be where we are now.

Yet, looking back at our choices back then does not change the reality that we live in today. Our world is even more fucked up than in those desperate days of the early '80s. We cannot deny this obvious fact. It truly is not the fault of the military,  they have executed their orders faithfully. They have done their duty without a hitch. We have the best armed forces in the world, bar none.

One of my closest friends participated in the Panama fiasco, another was critically wounded in a "training mission" in "South America" as a SF member, And another was in Iraq and was wounded while on patrol and even now deals with PTSD and other related brain injury issues. They all have wounds which will never be healed. What did they sacrifice their bodies and minds for?

Like religion, our political outlook is manipulated by those whose selfish interest supersedes those they serve, that would be We The People. 

I salute those who serve. I salute those who have made the choice to self-sacrifice for our way of life. I was a fuck-up back in the day, and maybe still am. Yet I understand that my country needs young women and men to step up and fight and sometimes kill, to keep our way of life a real and evolving dream. Those who have served did what they were told to...without question. They did as they were told, without without reservation. 

Do you, the reader know why?

Maybe it is because our country, our ideals, before being perverted by self-interest groups, ARE the ones everyone should strive to achieve.

Our country, The United States of America, is the greatest place in our whole wide world, bar nothing. We should never forget this, we need to live it and earn the privilege of saying those words honestly...Every single day of our lives.

We are the best because we earn that privilege. We are the most important nation in the world, not because any deity has said so, but because we work for it. We are the best because we earn it. It is not a god given right, but one that we work for.

Our men and women fight for our right to say these words, they give their bodies and minds for the privilege we take for granted. Let's think though, what did those young and somewhat naive solders and marines and sailors and airmen do to ensure our freedom?

They trained for so long in a formal school while training in the field, sweating and bleeding. Then they get sent to an emotionally and physically dangerous environment with little instruction. When they come home, they are stigmatized and labelled as outcasts.

These people gave all of themselves to protect our way of life.

By Definition, they are heroes. So, let's treat them as such. When you see someone on the side of the road, please remember the choice they made and please don't just pass them by thinking, "Oh there is a guy. It is so sad that they live like that." Just remember he or she, may have done a profound act to protect our way of life and possibly suffered for it.

Every single one who has served is a hero, they would have done as they were told. Many gave more than we can understand, more than their lives...they gave their very essence as a person. They gave for US, and our way of life and now it is time for us to return their honor, to show them that their duty and service was worth their personal and group sacrifice.

My salute and respect is what I can give to those who have given of themselves. I stand in honor to all of you who have given yourselves to the glory of what we call THE UNITED STATES of AMERICA.

Thank you, Neil M. Turner.

olc

A few thoughts about money and compensation

I have done no research on what I am about to rant about. I have not even talked it through with any one except my inner, crazy brain. But I feel qualified to write about it nontheless.

So deal with it my loyal readers. Meh!

I have talked about my financial woes a few times in the past. I have also talked about my additive past a little. It is a funny yet sad thing though, back in the daize when I let my addictive tendencies rule my life, I could live an OK life and not worry about money too much.

Now I am not controlled by the need to spend money on drugs, yet I worry constantly about making it to the next pay check with any money left over for food,clothes, much less a movie and popcorn, for the Runtyun and me. It wears me down.

So, when I got straight and moved here from the poisonous world I lived in for too long, I decided I would go to school and redefine who I was as a person. It worked to a degree, yet my earning potential seemed to decline. I do not regret my choice to restart my education nor my abstinence and would do it again given the chance. However, an Associate Degree is a nice thing to have, but opens few doors. 

I felt the need to get back into the working world again, but could not go back to cooking for reasons I have stated before. I found a job as an independent contracting courier. The position sounded good, even though I knew the money was less than premium. I thought I could do it for a New York Minute, then move on.

Well, a few years later and I am still at it. Not because this is a field I want to retire from, but because I owe too much money to leave. I need this work to pay off debts to my employer before I can get another job. I blame no one but me for the decisions I have made, yet I am frustrated with the fate I have created for myself. 

I have had many conversations with my employer about the need to earn more money and pay off my debt, yet my sales pitches go to deaf ears. So, I feel compelled to explain motivation and rewards here. This action may help me to solidify further conversations.

As I see it there are 3 levels of payment in the world I live in. 

The first is the one I am in. It consists of barely enough to live off of. Having to juggle bills on a monthly basis; robbing Peter to pay Paul, if you will. Now employers like this because the employee needs every scrap of work to get as much pay as possible. This means working through every inconvenience, all the while sacrificing family obligations just to make a buck.

This mode is good for the employer, because he or she, has people motivated to work whenever something is thrown at them. However, the workforce is poorly motivated to do the job well. They just need the money and have little motivation except the money that is portioned out. There is little gratification and nothing but work and constant worry. While the employer is satisfied, the employee lives in a world of frustration, never achieving anything. Stuck in a swamp of debt and worry. The employee is distracted and may not do the job as well as he or she could. This distraction, when taken to its extreme, leads to poor workmanship and silly mistakes because he or she, just does not care. 

Now, the next level of recompense allows the employee to get ahead of bills and live in our material world, yet fosters a laziness in the worker the employer may not want while generating a lack of purpose for the employee.

The employee feels he or she makes enough to skip working sometimes because they have enough to get by on, so there is little motivation for the employee to work harder than is absolutely needed. Their life's view is filtered with blinders and they do not want to work more, they feel they have done enough to get by and are not motivated to do more, or maybe he is doing some other work and finds it difficult to find time beyond his normal work hours. "What is the purpose?" they ask themselves, "I have enough and all I'll get, if I inconvenience myself, is little money. But my boss gets a nice big payoff for my inconvenience. And furthermore, this extra work takes away from my time doing things I want to do, like spending time with family."

This attitude is not good for any one.

Finally, we get to the third tier of reasonable payment for services. This one motivates the employee to work and makes the employer happy because his people are working and doing a quality job all the while making him money. The workforce is happy and motivated, thus it is willing to work more---making their boss more money in the long run.

In my humble opinion, this level of payment works for everyone. While the employer does not make as much as either of the first two, he or she, gets a loyal workforce that is motivated to go beyond the regular call of duty, thus performing at a level that is not only fair to him or her, but makes the employer a satisfactory amount of money. This model of recompense works for both sides.

Needless to say, I am in the first tier recompense and wish to elevate myself to the last. Yes, greed does have something to do with my desire for more money, but I also know that my job would be done better, to say nothing about my attitude would be improved. I would take on extra work more often if I knew I was being compensated all the time at level that allowed me to live a more fulfilling life.

olc

Time to start thinkin' 'bout the Election

       Let me start by saying the perpetual election cycle we live in is making me dizzy. It seems to me that as soon as the last election was over, both parties started to position themselves for the next one, not the mid-term, but the presidential election four years later. Not only is this American war-weary, but I'm election-weary. 

It seems to me there should be some kind of rule/moratorium/law that limits, or defines the dates prior to elections that candidates can run. After all, we did elect them to run our country, not for reelection, didn't we?

Our elected officials, at least on a national level, seem to be interested in preserving their jobs and not working to make our way of life better. The right wing is pandering to their corporate leash-holders. While the left moans and groans about how unfair it is that they don't get the support they need.

The right criticizes and demonizes our President and anyone who does not whole-heartedly endorse their point of view, while not finding any alternatives. They just say what is wrong and do not suggest better alternatives. And the left just continues to shoot themselves in the foot instead of using this time to build a plan to win.

olc

P.S. It is funny how these things work. When I started this post, I planned on writing about something completely different...What was that? Oh a new shiny object to distract me, maybe a squirrel, or a cute kitten... 

A LITTLE LATER WITH SOME PERSPECTIVE

A friend and I talked the other day. She was having troubles with her car and her former BF and needed to vent. I have always liked her and wondered what it would be like to spend a minute with her. But mostly, I just wanted to help her through a shitty moment.

I listened to what she had to say and sympathized. I tried to ease her down the road to Recovery(?), because that was the roll she needed me to play. After a time she invited me to her birthday celebration. Knowing it was a good ride away and might cause some family strife, I said sure and we would iron out the details when we got to Blue Ridge, GA. The Runtyun and I packed up the bike and set out for the 3 hour trek.

The Grinner, this is what I call my Motorcycle for those who do not know already, only gets 80 to 90 miles on a tank of gas. This translates to about 33mpg. The truth is this works out pretty well for this old guy. About the time the bike runs out of gas, I need to walk around to Un-kink my weary old back.

Our first stop, though not for gas, was at Smokey Mountain Steel Horse. The Grinner needs new plugs and the shop is right off the highway. They are an independent shop now selling new Indians and Victory Bikes. To my knowledge, they are the only dealer that does that in the region. I wish them luck. 

Having said that, their parts department could use a little work. It took them 20 minutes to figure out what spark plug The Grinner needed and then they even gave me the wrong ones, a miss matched set. I had planned on putting the new plugs in after we had gotten to Jennifer's. No such luck.

The rest of the ride was OK though almost all highway miles. The Runtyun never complained, however she let me know when she needed to get off and stretch out. It is rather tiring to ride for a long distance. For those who have not had the opportunity to do it you would be surprised. Even the kid said something like, "Who would have thought it could be so tiring?"

Needless to say, the final ride up to the place was on a newly pebbled road that was (How do I relate) FUN to ride. Can you say gravelly and not very well travelled?Finally, we arrived at the house for the stay-over and walked into a house of tension. 

There were dogs to defuse antipathy and kids for the Runtyun to be with. My friend still has this smile and twinkle in her eye that lights up a room, so I enjoyed the moment for seeing a friend.

We talked about nothing in particular and ate BBQ for supper, then watched some TV, the kids wallowed in the hot-tub. One of them, who was 7 years old seemed to live for time in the hot tube. The girl was 10, and the sweetest thing.

My friend and I talked a little, it seemed like superficial topics, but nothing important. As the evening moved along I began to feel a little abandoned. Every time I looked at my friend, she was looking somewhere else. I wondered at one point if she understood what it took for me to get over to her so she could have a friend nearby.

Finally, my friend said she was going to bed, and I took that lead and announced my intention to do the same. I dragged the Runtyun to our assigned room. And tried to sleep. It is a little difficult to sleep when channel surfing. Finally, I turned the off the TV and rolled over, almost falling off the skinny twin bed.

The next morning finally dawned, and I rolled out of bed, on purpose this time.

I enjoyed the incredible view the porch offered, regretting the screening making decent pictures impossible. Yet looking out over the woods leading to Blue Ridge Lake, the clouds were white and gray and broken by mountain tops. As the sun rose it moved along warming the day so the morning ground covering mist undulated revealing glimpses of mountain forests and wisps of the lake…

"Neil, Would you mind going to the store and getting some eggs for our pancakes?" Actually, I wanted to get some writing in.

She saw my hesitation and misunderstanding my pause and said I could take her car. I said, “What can I get for ya'?"

I got the bike started and rolled down the dirt-gravel road and started out on this part of the adventure. The Grinner fishtailed and spluttered with the old plugs all the way up the rain drenched road. I got the groceries and turned around to the cabin stewing in my brain.

A little bit into this part of the journey, I started to think about my friend in the cabin and how she always seems to find the bright side of everything. I knew I had to get out of this dark place I found myself in.

I let the engine of the Grinner fill me and relax my shoulders a little. The engine, seemingly of it own will growled a little lower and louder, the tires rolled a little faster. The curves got a little steeper and a slight grin spread across my frowning maw.

The turn to the dirt road came too soon for me, but the Grinner turned obediently in and we started up the gravely road. It seemed to me the Grinner felt the same about the road as I did, because it groaned and moaned all the way up. It spluttered and choked and began to fowl. I had to rev a little to clear its throat, again that smile as the thunder filled the air around us.

Bacon, pancakes and sausage where on the table in no time. Maple syrup and fake butter filled our tummy's. When we sated our hunger, I pulled and gapped the Grinners plug's. After cleaning them, they went back in and she fired up! She sounded throaty and powerful and ready to leave this beautiful place.

About that time Humphrey needed to go out and do his thing. He is the Boston Terrier of the animal menagerie and the coolest of the lot. Across the road, incredibly enough, were two other Boston Terriers. Who could imagine that! Well, the three guys had to show each other who was who. I am not sure who won that confrontation. All I got out of it was a lot of growling, screeching and running black and white little beasties. Again a little smile slipped across my face.

I spent a minute packing the bike and said our good byes. The bike merely needed me to pay a little attention to it, because she started up and grumbled and roared her happy relief to be rolling again. I wish people could be so easily gratified. We said our goodbyes and put it all behind us.

The ride back was more of the same, long roads at highway speeds. We found ourselves in the Nantahala Gorge and a little hungry. No luck there though, so we rode on down to Bryson City and a pizza place. The Runtyun said she was not really hungry, so I had an antipasto salad and water. I changed my mind though and ordered a Peach Sangria. 

The salad was OK, but the Sangria finally nudged me into my happy place. Nothing had really changed, but I found my smile. I had my kid, the bike was running well, the sky was blue and I was able to put all of my concerns aside and focus on the road ahead. 

It never ceases to amaze me the ability of a ride to clear one's head of all the Bullshit we let fill it. I felt the wind and heard the engine. My little girl was holding on and trusting her father to take care of her. I felt good about life.

Nothing much else happened for the rest of the ride except the Grinner amazed me and went nearly 100 miles on the last tank. We went to reserve  at some point and I wondered if we could make it home.

We did make it! I have to say, I was relieved. After filling the tank with 3.25 gallons of gas, (its capacity is 3.3 gallons) I realized there were merely ounces left in the tank. She held out for us in that run to home.

So that was our adventure of the Labor Day weekend. I hope every one else had one that was as full as ours.

olc

Here is my, totally insignificant, and short review of writing.com

         The plethora of resources available on writing.com is great! There is so much here that I have not even begun to discover it all. I like the that I can review some one’s story or poetry and get recognition for it. When I finally do get the story I am writing finished, I will be able to have people look at it and give advice on editing through final publication, whether it is be an ePub or actual book form.  There are writing contests to be entered---and won. If I decide to upload a story and have it reviewed by other authors, this can be dune too. If I get to a place in a story where I don’t know what to do, their prompts will help me find my muse. Such a great resource for such a minuscule price!

My time is limited and this means that I do not get to spend much of it exploring the depths of anything. As I bump into something that I think will benefit me, I look into it. So, that means I have not really delved into the depths provided by this site. Yet, from what I have seen so far, I like it.

Reviewing another author's story is a great exercise in self analysis. It helps one to look at some ones work and find something different. It also helps the reviewer to find perceived flaws in their own work and maybe find a better interpretation, thus helping to open new ideas and literary and imaginative roads to pursue. The only thing I have an issue with is the reward system. Most if the time we are given a fairly short amount of time to read then reread and write and rewrite a brief review. Now I am of the opinion that if some one puts their hard written work up for review, they want an honest and well thought out critique. To be honest, I cannot not do a quality assignment in an hour or so, especially if the work is over 1000 words.
Now I know I could just ignore the gift points that are offered as incentive, but I don't want to loose out on them. Quite the dilemma though, I will however, keep reviewing a project even after the time allotted for rewards has passed. Hmm, quite the dilemma.

The whole idea of crowd editing is a great one. There will be a time when I'll need to have my work edited and eventually published and the idea of reaching out is made easier because of the resources provided by writing.com. Also, due to the contests, I have found myself, writing some short stories and submitting them for review. And as I said earlier anytime we can get positive feed back is a time to rejoice.

Though this is far in my future, a couple months anyhow, the site has access to publishing agents and, hopefully, by then, I hope I'll have enough savvy to reach out and use them. And from there the sky is the limit.

Well, that is about all I have been able to figure out concerning the site. I know there is so much more to explore here and I'll get to it eventually. Suffice it to say that for the meagre amount of money for subscription, I am very happy with everything I have seen. Now let's see if the site can improve my writing skills to the point of a professional! (of course we know the writer ios not the tools he, or she uses, but the imagination and the ability to put those thought into a cohesive form. Good tools do help though, just sayin’

Thank you for taking a moment of your life to read my words. Please leave a comment and any critique to make it better.

Things for Thanks

OK, so everyone says we need to count our blessing and not the things that bring us down. This is a good philosophy. This is my take on it.

The other day, the night before Thanksgiving as a matter of fact, the weather was foul, snow blew side ways, the road was getting icy and the sun was going away and I had 20 miles down a road a road that was dark and in bad shape. There was this delivery half way to Marshall and I had the pleasure of performing it.

I called the people at the house to find out if the conditions were good for the delivery and had a general idea on where to go. She said they were up the side of the mountain with the snow coming down, but thought it was OK. I was a little concerned about my van getting up to their place, but kept going. I finally made it to the gate guarding the residents within.

My van could not even get to the keypad to open the gate.

I called the people and explained my predicament. I did not relate my concern for getting home due to slippery roads. I managed a 5 point turnaround without slipping off the road. At last I was on the way home to a nice warm fire and my Runtyun.

 I was determined to get home in one piece, but I wanted to get there, so I went slowly and made it past cars that were not as cautious as me. The police, fire department and tow trucks were on scene so I felt no need to stop and help. 

After a while, after passing a few more cars parked on the side of the road, either waiting for the sand trucks to go by, or stuck due to icy conditions, I got behind a little red sedan. By now I was feeling confident in my ability to navigate the mess coming from the sky, but this guy was going so slow and I wanted to be home. He never got gong more than 20 mph and I wanted to go faster. I could feel the frustration building as the second hand kept going slower and slower.

Finally, I just let it all go. I felt my shoulders relax and I just understood that no matter how much I needed to go faster, it would not happen. I let my mind wonder. I remembered the whole thing about thinking positively and thanking the world for all of the good things in my life.

The first thing I thought of were my parents and the love that they show me, but my immediate response was how it sucked that I was so dependent on them for so much. Then I thought about my job, especially the way the world is, “I have a job!” Then I reminded myself about the money I owed my boss in order to keep making money for him. A little smile spread across my lips as I thought of a friend in Marietta. But that thought finished by remembering she is not feeling so well and I could do nothing to help her.

All the while, this idiot in front of me was going no-miles-an-hour and keeping me from getting home to my fire and Runtyun. We came to a steep downhill and the guy slipped a little and I realized there was ice under the snow making things even more precarious.

That is when I realized it, this guy in front of me may be going slow, making me frustrated yet he refused to go any faster, even when the road was straight and clear. This ass, who was going too slow for me, may have saved me from going too fast, and not making it home at all.

I was still frustrated by the weather and how slow he was going, but I was truly thankful he was there keeping me on the road and on my way home.

olc

I am not an Atheist!

The other day a friend posted a picture of a beautiful tattoo on the back of an exquisite woman. The tattoo was an exploration of a lily vine, I think, in fantastic color. The colors and artistry used were melded together combinbg with the models natural beauty; the way her spine made the shadows dance over her skin, created an image surreal; almost a waking dream.

My friend was talking about having the work reproduced on her. My brain exploded with the thought. Her inner beauty would only enhance the brilliance of the work making the whole even more stunning than the sum of already splendid parts.

I had to go and bring up religion and how in some parts of the bible it is considered blasphemy to tattoo or cut the body. There is one passage in particular, in Leviticus, that says something like, “Don't cut or tattoo the body... Blah, blah...” At the end of my post, I did say that it would look good on her. I wonder if her eyes got that far though.

My friend, I hope I can still call her that, has had a few trials in her past and is struggling to find her way even now. She has this great big companion that barks and scratches. They are doing well. However before she found her way to her place of happiness she, like so many others including me, had some demons to vanquish.

I do not know the path my friend used to shake her demons, we all have to find our own way. Suffice it to say she found God in her process to a better way of life.

At any rate, she replied to my post saying that she would not go into a discussion of religious matters due to my atheism. She has stuck to her guns, even when I tried to explain my beliefs. 

So maybe I’ll spend a minute trying to explain my beliefs here and now. What do ya’ll think of that?

I was brought up as a preachers kid. I have a different take on religion than many other people have. My father let me decide whether I wanted to go to church after I passed the 6^th grade. I decided to stay with it, some of my fondest childhood memories are of walking home after church with him. Also, I would get the key to the youth center and take my junior high girl friends down there to experiment and stuff.

My spiritual thinking has been shaped by the writings of Richard Bach, in general and Jonathan Livingston Seagull in particular and his search for perfection. In short, perfection, or Heaven can never be attained, it is merely an unachievable goal. The path we have to follow is trying to achieve perfection. 

Also Frank Herbert’s Dune series taught me a little about the hypocrisy of organized religion, at least as portrayed in his books.

Some one once said that Religion is The Opiate of the Masses. Carl Marx went on down the thought trail in a different direction than I do. His writing about religion in the proposed work, (never published) A Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right, went on about stuff that has nothing to do with my take of the phrase, though his thinking and mine may coincide at some levels.

Religion is The Opiate of the Masses. What an interesting phrase for recovering addict to latch on to. I was thinking about taking the whole phrase apart word by word, but that may be a project for another post. This time I’ll take the whole of it and say that I think organized religion has been perverted onto a way to manipulate the masses, a way to control an unruly mass into conformity. 

My Father taught me love and understanding. I also learned patience. While I waited for him to finish his duties at the church, I would wonder around talking with people, or just sitting and waiting for him. When he was done, we would walk home together. The truth is I cannot even remember what we talked about, yet I remember those walks together.

I read JLS, by Richard Bach so many years ago that I may have forgotten some of the details, however the strength of the story surrounding the journey Jon Seagull took after his physical body succumbs to what we call death is profound. It is his journey to heaven or the perfect speed of flight. He learns over the course of many life times that heaven is not a place or thing or a goal achieved, but the act of striving for the goal. There is so much more to his learning in that tiny book, yet the most important lesson I gathered was to never quit, never give up, even if Life got too difficult to handle. There have been times when I have diverted my energies away for a goal I started, yet I learned another way to achieve the goal.

If any book can alter the life an of a teenager more than the book by Frank Herbert, Dune, I do not know what it would be. The scope of the battle between the government and the conniving sisterhood and the way each side used and colluded with the other opened the eyes of a jaded teenager to paranoid and delusional ideas which still influence my thinking. The way all the governing bodies used faith to manipulate the masses as well as each other is almost prescient to our world today. To this day, the name Jessica has pseudo-erotic and intellectual ramifications in my daily life.

I think I heard the paraphrase by Carl Marx: Religion is The Opiate of the Masses when I was beginning my downward spiral to substance abuse. So of course I took it the wrong way. However I have spent many a night alone since then and, believe it or not, some of it was contemplating that very statement.

The echo that mostly goes through my head goes something like this: both religion and our political leaders need to control the masses. Maybe they think we need to be lead around like sheep so we do not realize we, the masses, can rise up and over throw them, so they use religious doctrine to lead us down a path of subjugation and servitude...I do not know.

I have seen the religious fervor that some get when in the “groove,” or rapture. Having seen this religious devotion one can see how an opportunist might take advantage of the vulnerable for their own advantage, by doping their followers with the opiate of religion. This is a way of using the weakness of doubt and vulnerability of the people to gain power and control of the masses for the elite.

So what am I, You ask with incredulity?

In a word: Confused, or two: Seeking.

Perhaps, the great bard, Mr. Wagglestaff, said it best, “To thine own self be true.”

 What more could a God want from his people?