Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Looking Through The Distorted Looking Glass

Finally, it's Saturday.  It was a long week.  Air conditioner after air conditioner.  Fixing.  Patching.  Re-wiring.  Repairing.  This is what summer brings.  And, in defense of summer's toll on my body and patience, there is the financial reward.  As long as I take the phone calls.  And show up.  And do the job.  It's actually pretty amazing how the precious dollar can motivate a man.  Or woman.  Or even a child.  I remember my grandpa used to pay me a dime to open the gate leading back to the barn in close proximity to the house we lived in.  Although I can barely remember the exact scene, I still remember how exciting that dime felt in the palm of my hand.  I guess Grandpa was a genius in that way.  Give a child a small example of work and the reward for that work and so begins a life of making money.  Because Grandpa also knew money would always be a factor in my future.  Or, he was really lazy and didn't want to get off that tractor to open the gate himself.  But I tend to go with my first theory.  Actually, I think it had more to do with love than anything else.  There was joy in his eyes watching the joy in mine when he handed me that dime.  From that early age, and even still today, I enjoy change in my pocket.  As long as there's a little change I'm not broke.

I guess that small lesson, repeated often, was one of many I learned early in life.  There were times I watched my father in pain from the efforts put forth in his work.  But even with the pain my father would still get up around 3 (or 4 - I couldn't read a clock back then) and do it all over again the next day.  My mom, even today approaching the 3/4 mark on a century, still feels pride from performing a hard day's work.  Those who surrounded me growing up, and still today, do not always confess to the hours and pain but there is that gleam in their eyes from a paycheck and completing another day.  Even when my shirt's soaked with sweat and my body's begging me to stop, I know there is the monetary and self-worth reward that awaits if I can just finish.  I believe, even from the creation of the world itself, man was designed to work and accomplish.  And there is fulfillment in working and accomplishment.  It is not our only role in life but is a crucial element in our existence.  It really does complete us.

I thought of this while working in a house yesterday.  Actually, a conversation I held with the tenant brought me to revelations about myself and those around me.  She (her identity will remain anonymous due to my lack of knowledge of her name) asked me my thoughts on the hiring practices of several entities such as the fire department and police department.  She wanted to know why black men couldn't get jobs.  Her mind was on Ferguson, Missouri.  Her first question regarded the hiring of prison guards. She also made reference to the knowledge that her own black community had many young, black men who weren't working.  She also acknowledged the fact that many, and she stressed the point that it was "all" the young men she knew - still speaking of the young black men - did not even have an interest in working.  I don't know if this had to do with her confusion over my ethnicity (it took some convincing on my part to let her know I wasn't a black man myself although I am very tan right now and my hispanic lineage attests to that) but she thought my opinion had some relevance.  In her defense she was over eighty years old and her eyesight may have not been that accurate.  I could see she was referring to the lack of black men and woman in certain prominant roles in our community.  My answer, after my declaration of non-blackness, was interesting to her.  As a business owner and sole-proprieter, I would not hire someone who was not qualified to do a good job.  I don't care what skin color they possessed.  What I care about is what that person is CAPABLE of doing.  I asked her if her house was on fire, and the ability of the fire fighter was insufficient, would it be important if they were black?  If the man or woman who showed up to enforce the laws of our community and state could not prevent her safety and welfare from being harmed, would she care if they were black or white?  Throughout the conversation we discussed her role in the NAACP and her involvement with many other groups and meetings within the community.  She could not understand why her seven black boys were all in relationships with white women.  "Why" she asked, "can't black girls marry black men?"  I offered her examples of reports from my daughter, while a student in a public high school, of the rudeness and loudness and overall anti-social behavior from black girls who got into fights.  The amount of fights, over boys and social standing, were predominantly from black girls.  At no point in our conversation was there rudeness or self-righteousness on either side.  She really wanted to know, from my perspective, why there were such problems.  On several occasions she mentioned the lack of desire for many of the black youth (she was mostly mentioning the men) on obtaining regular work or careers.  Sports and fame were the focus.  Why was that?  On many occasions she mentioned the lack of teaching black history.  I told her that in recent times, there has been a diluge of information on black history - especially within the schools.  Yes, I agreed, that in years past, there was problems in the disparity of black versus white in this area.  But, as I informed her, if you pay attention you can see many leadership positions held by people of color and female gender now.  It is not a dire and hopeless situation to succeed, for a young black man or woman, as evidenced years ago.  There is hope and opportunity for anyone.   I also mentioned this before breaking back to work on her evaporator coil - When a young man or woman hears nothing more than how little opportunity, or how the world prevents them from achieving success, can they ever succeed?  If they are surrounded by others of their own race, who continually see nothing but race, can they ever see themselves as nothing but a doomed black man or black woman?  My family and neighbors always demonstrated success around me as a child.  I saw many who thought it was just normal to get a job and succeed.  Whether I was teased or insulted as a child because of my lineage and ethnicity did not force me into a "poor me" way of living.  The question, I told her, that really needed to be discussed in her meetings with local leaders of the black community and others is simple - "How can we change from within rather than expecting and demanding that others change?"  You can never succeed or work or accomplish anything if it's not within yourself to do that.  And it starts at home.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

I Hate The Backseat

As with many great thoughts and analogies that occur in the grey matter that lies within the perimeters of my skull, a recent exchange of political thoughts for the week brought about one of my best analogies for the period of chaos we are in.  My great friend, perhaps best friend - we'll call him CJ for now, was telling me his take on the recent events in our state capital and the national news.  I shot back with my own tidbits of intelligent, incoherent ramblings.  And then, like a bolt of static electricity, it finally hit me what I feel like with the current administration in the White House.  Here's a brief summary:

"Do you remember when you were little and you were in the backseat of the car and suddenly Dad takes an unfamiliar exit?  And you're traveling out of state in unfamiliar territory?  And all of a sudden the talk stops and it gets really quiet in the car?  You sense something is really wrong but there really is no indication of it?  And Mom just keeps giving your Dad these looks and he just keeps looking forward?  Somewhere, out of a sense of your own well-being, you ask Dad that first question - 'Where are we?'  Suddenly, out of frustration you hear Dad lose it with the 'Just be quiet!!!'  Now you can really feel the tension as you see the knuckles start to turn white on the steering wheel.  Then Mom ask the second worse question she could possibly ask - 'Are you sure we should have taken that exit?'  The silence from Dad is so loud your ears pop.  And you're in the backseat with no idea what state you're even in because you were reading a book or listening to music or you were doing any kind of mindless brain exercises because you still have a thousand years before you're supposed to get there.  That really freaked out feeling is overwhelming.  You're not even legal to drive yet but suddenly you're feeling a little bit more in control of the car than the driver.  Every part of self-preservation is telling you to jump from the car but shock has immobilized your muscles.  And then, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, your brother or sister who always seems to throw your dad over that final edge of the abyss into madness, decides to take his or her headphones off and looks around.  And then asks the absolute worse question imaginable - 'Are we lost?'  Now, your dad, who's been fighting the impulse of murderous rage, finally unloads with the profanity and expletives that always causes your mom to do that complete body cringe.  Now she's in complete 'momma bear' mode.  'Why don't you just pull over and ask someone for directions?'  Now mom might be able to budget food for a complete month with the resources for two weeks but in this area she's a wee bit lackin' in the common sense area herself.  Dad yells back a few more un-repeatable words and she yells back his name using all three names.  You know the situation's bad and you just wish dad would stop somewhere and just ask directions but silence seems to be the safest route.  Finally, when the gas guage becomes the great authority, dad gives in to reality and knows that he must pull in somewhere for gas and directions.  Pride has created a fifty mile detour in the wrong direction.  And you dare not repeat the events of this story until your own children are sitting there with 'pa pa' and everyone has a good laugh about it.  But it takes a couple of decades to see the humor." 

We all have stories like that.  Our parents, or grandparents, or foster parents, or whoever, have let their pride and self-importance lead them down a path that they just couldn't possibly turn around from.  I remember how much I hated that backseat as I got older.  As the years have passed, and I've been in the driver seat myself for more years then I care to remember, I have learned on a few occasions that it is better to stop and ask for help. Especially if I have people in my car that I'm responsible for.  Now, multiply that scenario by a few billion and see if pride or self-importance are any kind of excuse for the trip we're on now.  And watch as more and more of your own loved ones keep eyeing the door handle as the vehicle we're in keeps running down this wrong path.  Like I said, I hate the backseat.  And mom (the other leaders in this country and the media) just can't get dad to stop and ask for directions.  And even he knows we're running out of gas. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Knowledge And Knowing Are Two Different Things

Hope.  It's a convenient word for some.  Heck, some even use it for a campaign slogan.  Who can forget the infamous slogan "Hope with Dope" back in 1942?   Christopher Dope lost that year but it was a rather catchy phrase.  Even in recent times "hope" has inspired millions to elect someone to office.  "Hope and Change" will not be soon forgotten.  Or has it?  You see, I noticed something about this slogan that seems to be further from a reality than ever before.  Let's take a look at these two words that brought a country together in a campaign that polarized a nation like never before.  (Not absolutely positive on the "like never before" but I only say that to give it the emphasis it deserves.)  On one side there was republicans.  Or as some of you may know them, the racists.  And on the other side was the democrats - the enlightened ones.  Now back in 2006 and 2007, a lot of you didn't realize (or it was a highly guarded secret) that every republican was a racist.  Hatred for the men and women of African descent (I realize that most black men and women in the United States are born in the United States but the term African American must receive it's authority from somewhere) has always been evident in the republican party.  The image of the lynched man hanging from a tree can be found in most campaign posters if you look hard enough.

It's just in the DNA of most racist men and women who hide behind cute little sayings such as "less government" and "promote small business" and "flat tax".  The problem with racism, for many years, has been the discrimination of good, highly qualified candidates from elected office.  It's rare to see men such as Mr. Jessie Jackson, Jr. who attain higher office and then unfairly get thrown into jail on some trumped up charges.  So, against all odds, and with very little help from Hollywood or the media, the honorable Barrack Hussein Obama was crowned. And when I say crowned, it wasn't really a crowning.  It was more of an exaltation.  The future for America/United States of was bright and unlimited.  His office would be one filled with transparency and idealism.  No more racial divide.  No more knit picking and in-fighting between the parties.  And transparency.  Lots of transparency.  (No more Bush secrecy and such.)   It was an awe-inspiring moment that dragged on for a few years.  To be honest I yawned a lot at all of the excitement.  Actually, to be honest, I've been anti-Obama since 2006.  And to be honest, I've wanted his POLICIES to fail.  Let me repeat that - I've wanted his POLICIES to fail.  You see, for those who yell racism at every speech and every other sentence, they really don't understand how someone like me, a mixed breed of Hispanic, Indian, Irish, German and perhaps twenty others I don't know about, could oppose the exalted royalty.  It's his agenda and ideology, stupid.  I oppose just as strongly the other men and women, white, black, Asian, or whatever their DNA happens to make them, that promote the failure of the United States.  And what really chaffs my butt is the misuse of the word "racism" to hide failure.  And un-accountability.  And criminal conduct.  And the royal treatment to million dollar vacations every other week.  I may have exaggerated on that last one but not by much.

But lately, I've noticed something else.  Something chaffing the nether unmentionable regions.  The ability of a president to know so little about anything going on.  Benghazi, the IRS, the Secret Service, the Fast and Furious program to name just a few of so many. And now, the latest "I was not aware" scandal - the wait lists (or as the common person might call them - "death row" that our service people are put on awaiting treatment guaranteed through the government run health care system for veterans.  He (obama) was not aware until the media reported it.  Were you aware before the President of the United States was of this situation?  It's possible if you know a veteran.  Apparently community organizers don't know a lot of veterans.  It just never came up during any of his golf outings or security briefings.

If only he had a staff of advisors who were aware of such things.  If only the teleprompter had said something.  But no - he just doesn't know or is aware until CNN or MSNBC mentions it.  Clueless is not at the top of my list for desired traits of the man who holds the briefcase with the nuclear missile launch codes.  You know what I mean?  If he really doesn't know about anything except what the press allows him to know then maybe I should move to a country where the press has a little bit more freedom like Venezuela or Cuba.  Is the President of the United States actually that unaware of what's going on in his own government and other areas of vital concern or is he just stupid. Or is he so aware that he is criminally negligent?  This is a question every one in this world must ask themselves.  And I say world because, as I mentioned before, Obama, the clown, is in charge of a nuclear arsenal.  He is in charge of many things.  If Barrack Obama actually figures out the numbered lock on the briefcase we could be in trouble.  I guess this makes me a racist.  So, if you're like me, and you don't like the policies and agenda of the most mis-informed man on the planet, you should check yourself into the next available program that teaches diversity and understanding.  'Cause you be a racist too.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.  If you want to contact me I'll probably be volunteering at some KKK meeting somewhere and unavailable.   

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Just Because You Can't See Them Doesn't Mean You Can't See Them

Superstitions. Make-believe.  Hallucinations.  Magic.  Fairy tales.  I've heard christianity and religion described many ways.  Some of you reading right now feel strongly about the "non-existence" of a god, gods, or God.  Some of you feel pretty strongly about the non-existence of the devil or angels or demons or anything "other" worldly.   The fantastic thing about a person's personal belief is that they totally own it.

If I owned a foreign country or was some type of dictator ruling a land far, far away, and said to my people that I declare this belief of mine as the belief all people in the land should share, it's not really a personal faith, is it?  I can't really force any belief, in a faith, without invalidating the essence of faith itself.  A person has to totally own his or her own personal faith.  It must be an individual's choice.  For myself, as an individual clear of any known mental defect, being totally coherent and rational in my thinking, I choose to believe and have faith.  It's my choice.

It wasn't out of guilt or pleasure that I made that decision so many years ago.  It was one I made logically and emotionally.  It was pretty personal.  And it was a simple question really.  And when I say simple I'm speaking of length of words.  It was a brief question but it determined the rest of my life really.  The question asked of me was only four words. It didn't come quickly. In fact, it was after many hours and many days of reading and studying the bible that I had to ask myself the question.  It has lead me through many other questions later in life from that point.

One example was just yesterday.  I was on the interstate about a mile from the exit I had to take.  The car in front of me was driven by an older lady (as I would find out when she turned and looked back at me) traveling to some unknown destination by me.  She was in the right lane, which coincidentally was the same lane needed for the exit I had to take.  For those of you familiar with interstate travel, speeds driven on the interstate can range between 0 and 90 depending on the city and if it's Friday around quitting time.  Traffic at this particular time was moving along at a comfortable pace and was flowing rather fluidly.  As I followed her car I notice my speed was gradually slowing down.  My speed had went from around 70 mph down to 55 mph.  I noticed many cars behind me began zipping around into the next lane and I swear they were shaking their heads at me like I was the problem.  Well, I shook my head as strongly as possible and energetically began pointing at the car ahead of me.  "It's their fault.  It's their fault.  It's not mine." I was screaming in my own self-defense.  (I made that last part up but it was happening in my head, none-the-less.)

So what stopped me from ramming the back of the car in front of me?  What prevented me from speeding up and entering the lane next to this hazardous driver and pushing her car off the interstate?  I do believe it is in those moments that something inside me prevents me from making such rash decisions.  Now, for those of you who are atheists or just don't really agnostically care, you might argue that common sense or years of experience prevented me from committing vehicular manslaughter.  But I disagree.  Because I know deep down inside there is the potential to make the wrong decision and do the worst possible thing in any given circumstance.  I don't know how many times I have been given a little push in the right direction in my life but I know something extraordinary is at work within me.  I know that my spirit has recognized true beauty in the world surrounding me.  I've been blessed beyond what I'll ever know just because of that decision I made many years ago.  At some point, when I feel a little bit more comfortable with our writer/reader relationship, I'll fill you in on more of my sordid past.  But for now just trust me when I say that I am a sinner. I've made mistakes.

So, what was the question I answered so many years ago?  What lead me down this path I'm currently stumbling down every once in awhile?  Four words really.  "Do You Believe This?  If you can ask yourself that question after reading the bible than you'll have to answer it.  It may not be at that exact moment but when the time comes you'll know it in your heart.  And that is where He resides.  I do firmly believe He took residence within me so many years ago and there is nothing I can say or do that can convince you. You can call me a liar, deceived, delirious, or insane.  It doesn't change the fact that it's my own personal faith.  So, if you're like the millions who haven't asked yourself that question, or like one of the millions who have but were not absolutely confident on answering the question at that moment, give it a try again.  Pick up a bible and read.  Truly try to ask the question - "Do You Believe This?" and only you can answer.  For me the answer was one of the hardest answers I've had to give because I do believe the consequences are eternal.  But I do believe it.  And He's been faithful to me no matter how little I've shown my own faithfulness to be.  And today, Easter Sunday, seems to be a pretty good time to reflect on His love and grace on my life.  So yes, I do believe this.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.  You can contact me at rueuhy@gmail.com.  Happy Easter!!

Monday, April 14, 2014

When I Was Your Age ...

Kids just don't understand, do they?  The easy, simple life they have compared to when we were their age.  I remember helping my dad chop wood and stacking firewood.  There are a few that probably still do that but the numbers are probably a lot less.  If I wanted some money for clothes or whatever, I de-tassled corn in the summer for a local seed corn company.  If I wanted to call a friend my mom would ask "Is it the same prefix or is the phone company gonna charge me 10 cents a minute?"  I would have to sit in a kitchen chair and I couldn't walk around to talk.  Because the receiver had a cord attached to it connecting it the handset. Life was tough.  As a kid I had to ride the big yellow schoolbus.  Sometimes, on a hot summer day, the stench of fresh vomit would waft through the air and fill the sinus cavities.

Life was tough.  But I will admit, in some aspects, kids today have it a teensy, weensy bit tougher.  I started thinking about the challenges facing kids these days and perhaps I'm a little quick with my own self-pitying. I don't remember ever being scared of the possibility of someone walking onto the school grounds and emptying a magazine from a semi-automatic.  I just don't remember being scared like that.  I also don't remember gang warfare taking place.  But I am from a rural town.  Back then, if kids went hunting, it might not be such a shocking thing to find an unloaded shotgun in the back windshield of a pick-up truck.  A lot of kids knew how to hunt or had at least experienced it.  But, as I said, I grew up in a rural town.

I also remember there wasn't so much confusion about who we were.  I'm sure there was a few children who felt some confusion about their sexuality or gender.  But it wasn't at the epidemic levels we seem to read about in this day and age.  I never felt like I had to take a stand on marriage equality. I, as well as a high percentage of my classmates and kids all over the United States, understood dad was in charge.  Mom never really disciplined.  But she would insure us of the fact that Dad would be home and taking care of it.  They were a tag team of sorts. In all those years of growing up, the word "divorce" was mentioned so few times that I didn't really even understand what it meant.  When two people married it was a life sentence.  Usually without parole.  Marriage was just a simple staple that involved a man and woman united.  And I don't ever remember any stories, local or distant, of a father leaving his wife for another man.  It would not be until I was 20+ years old that I would even see a public display of same-sex anything.  Actually I was pretty shocked and confused when I saw two girls kiss at a bar in Los Angelos.  Now children have to decide what they are and who everyone else is by junior high.  Just doesn't seem very fair to put that kind of pressure on 12 year olds.  The roles of gender and sexuality should not have to be a subject discussed or taught in school.  I guess that makes my role a homophobic.  You gotta be something nowadays.

Even school lunches aren't simple anymore.  It used to be a mom could pack a lunch for her child and let little Johnny or Suzy take some aspirin with them.  Now even that's regulated.  If it's even allowed.  Many schools don't even allow a home-packed school lunch to enter the cafeteria.  If it's not momma-Michelle Obama approved, it can't be allowed to endanger the health of your own child.  Reports are coming in that half a kiwi and a bun with some type of veggie burger is an approved alternative to sliced ham on white bread.  Fortunately, the youngest children will begin their programming with the highest from of common core math that can be handled.  Those children will be brilliant.  I've looked into the eyes of common core teachers and there are traces of souls there.  What was once filled with the love of knowledge and teaching has been thoroughly replaced with a paycheck and a week off every month.  (I exaggerate and I do know there are a lot of teachers out there who hate common core just as much as everyone else.)  The problems are many, but some kids, somehow, will survive the newest, and bestest ideas surfacing from the muddy waters of the federal education system.  There will be a few.  The odds tells us so.

So, if these children survive the violence, the gender and sexuality questions, and the school nutritional programs without o.d.'ing on over the counter medicines, they will have years of paying off college tuition and books.  And that is only a drop in the bucket compared to the taxes and penalties and the "personal responsibility payments" they have a life time to look forward to.  The amount of money to survive in this freshly cultivated "barren" wasteland of economic fatigue imagined by a progressive institution of higher excellence through welfare and social programs will just not be there for our future income earners.  When I entered my senior year I saw possibility. I saw hope.  I envisioned my life could be middle class or riches.  I just don't think I could realistically have that same outlook today.  But that's the beauty of the human spirit.  No matter how much the government and progressive teams of idealists yearn to squash capitalism and industrial achievement, the young can imagine and dream.  They can overcome.  As long as the television, music, and other forms of entertainment don't put them on a path of assured stardom.  There are only a few stars in the music industry.  There are only a few millionaires playing sports.  The rest of us have to achieve our dreams without multi-million dollar contracts.  We have to have a work ethic and the knowledge to achieve.  I just didn't know how easy I had it over our youth of today.  The worst part is - they're smart enough to understand the world they are entering.  And there are just too many less old fashioned minds out there to explain it to them.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog. Shout out to me at rueuhy@gmail.com 

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

The Reckoning

We live in the world we choose.  A teacher told me that many years ago.  I didn't understand it then.  I did to some extent but being a teenager does limit you on life experience.  I understand it a little better now.

Back then, in the early 80's of the past century, (I'm still getting used to the idea of a new century) life was different for our country.  For someone like me, in rural town USA, one could not really envision the events unfolding today.  Surveillance of citizens, government run amok in our personal affairs, laws on the books that hinder personal liberty and freedom.  Federal agencies so corrupt and powerful that citizens have become naturally afraid of their own government - these were the possibilities of a "Big Brother" era.  It was fiction from a George Orwell novel.  "But Rueuhy, we are far from a total totalitarian form of government" the bleating sheep cry from the comfort of their section 8 housing.  The same sheep wait dutifully in the welfare lines and cling to their EBT cards.  The sheep walk quietly to their minimum wage jobs and dream of that factory, that is now in decay, opening once again.  The sheep didn't choose to become sheep - it is just an economic and socialist form of evolution that converted them.  The media helped shaped them.  The schools helped form them.  The jails have room for a few more.  We live in a world today that seems so normal in its chaotic rituals of season cliffhangers on tv and cinematic remakes of once beloved movies.  Churches are for those who aren't smart enough to listen to science and old age should never lead to death.  We have lost faith in God (not all of us but an alarming trend is in place) and have chosen the material comforts in His place.  And our elementary, junior and senior public highschools are quickly establishing themselves as the new parents of socialism in America.  For those of you that haven't had the joy of his/her young offspring reciting the new Federal and State manifesto in all it's glory, just ask a young 'un to explain the procedures to handle bullying.  Or the new grading curves in place.  Ah, the joy of dumbing down the future citizens.  We must be tolerant now, to the point of acceptance of everyone's flag, whether or not the U.S. flag gets dragged through the mud.  If 2% of the population is homosexual then that is obviously a majority and can no longer be viewed as an abomination in the eyes of the lord who sits on the education board at state and federal levels.  Or the federal judge who decides against morality and fairness in his/her interpretation of the constitution.  Because that old outdated scrap of paper is a living, breathing document that really should be put out of its misery.  We live in fun times.

It is the thought of our beloved country, and the damnation at the hands of its leaders throughout the government agencies and bureaucracy they've created that leads me to this thought:  we are at a crossroads. As the people of this country face lower incomes, or even non-existent incomes and staggering implications of rulings and laws that filter into their peaceful existence and will to be happy, everyone will have to make a choice.  And I see a final reckoning which will take place shortly after the first quarter of 2015 when people go to file their taxes.  We are at a precipice that no one really wants but have been pushed towards.  As we survey the fiscal and legal cliff that has been forced upon our individual and business enterprises with the advent of a "Personal Responsibility Payment" and employment requirements from the AFA (affordable care act) known as Obamacare, the final push will be felt when we file our 2014 taxes.  Men and women who have built their businesses (yes, THEY built their businesses) with their own hands and self-preservation, enter into bankruptcy and financial ruin - there will be a reckoning.  As the father watches his children go hungry because he had to choose between healthcare and eating - there will be a reckoning.  As the government uses its long arm or force (known simply as the IRS), the little people - the unknown 99% - will face government like never before, and there will be a reckoning.  As I've said before to anyone who would listen - "You can regulate and delegate to the masses but watch out when they can't work or feed themselves."  There is a reckoning coming.

Ever wonder why there is so much media coverage for anyone who sees gun control for the masses as the only solution to a few who have used guns for assault on public institutions?  It is not the mental illness of a handful that gives the government the right to revoke a constitutional right from millions.  It is simpler than that.  The government knows when it's outnumbered.  Take away the only defense a citizen has and you've given yourself free rein.  So the sheep are expected to line up at tables and "register" their arms they legally possess.  It's simple really.  When the time comes, and the chaos erupts, the government really needs to know where to go and take away the people's only real defense against enslavement.  For some of us it's as blatant as a census bureau worker showing up at a house and asking the resident who they have health insurance coverage through.  Or it's as blatant as a government requiring knowledge of all your assets and debts through a "tax filing" for every legal business and citizen.  Or it's simply as blatant as our country's leaders publicly lying to our faces about keeping our healthcare coverage 30+ times in pushing an un-read bill through congress.  There will be a reckoning.  Hopefully your common sense is stronger than the sheep who has the faded "Hope and change" bumper sticker half scraped off their bumpers.  Sheep tend to follow their leader over any fiscal cliff.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.  If you would like to compare notes please email me at rueuhy@gmail.com   

Monday, April 7, 2014

A Peaceful Suffering

I basically have two rules in my life.  There is no particular order to them.  In fact, they usually intertwine. Here they are -

1.  I am what I am.
2.  I do what I do.

For many years these rules have served me well.  Have I made mistakes?  Well, of course I have.  Do I have regrets?  Does a bear spit in the woods?  Of course I have regrets.  Have I been married a few times?  Rule #2 has a lot to do with that one.  But yes, even though there have been mistakes and regrets and hardship and pain, for the most part I've lived a full and somewhat productive life.  I've lived and I don't feel like looking back at my life and sighing a lot.  I'm very grateful for the experiences and accomplishments that have come my way.  There was music.  A little dancing.  Some really weird foods.  I've seen magnificent beauty that reminds me there is something so much greater than me.  I've been saved physically and mentally.  I've been redeemed spiritually.  If this is it it's been quite the ride.  But I'm pretty sure there's a few more days ahead of me.  Not 100% sure but it does seem likely.  If I die tonight I have hope for my eternal soul.  Some of you, I would even dare to say a majority, still feel like there is so much you want out of life.  Even a fear of dying.  Because you're just not sure what is beyond that last breath.  I have no great words of wisdom to convince you that you will live on beyond death.  That is something a person must seek out and define on their own.  All I can do is tell you that I have faith for a voyage yet to come for myself.  This is what it boils down to for me - I asked the question.  The question is better left to each individual because it really is one of the most personal questions a person can ask of themselves.  In fact, I can't really define what the question is. The important thing is that you want to ask it.  When that question, that undefinable question, is important enough to ask, each one finds his own question.  And more importantly the answer.  I would even hypothesize that the question really is a deep inner need that can't be defined by human language.  It sits inside festering away at a person's soul until the foul stench causes nausea.  A person can't help but to begin to seek that undefinable truth.  The question lingers there on the tip of the tongue.  For me it could be summarized by futility in life.  Was death a greater alternative?  Not by means of suicide but the absence of what defined normalcy for me.  Could I live with a life void of being totally real?  As I said, the answer wasn't as important as finding the right question. There is a symbolic precipice a man journeys to as he struggles with the trappings that a life has to offer.  If fulfillment is never within reach, is it possible?  Can the material ever really comfort?  Is total trust only found in total abandonment?  I really didn't mean to philosophize but there it is - a journey in a hindered condition.  The closest I can come to really explaining what I'm talking about is the man who injures his arm and asks the doctor if he'll ever play the piano again without knowing how to in the first place.  Do we give up before we give out?  Is the world a limited idea or the entrapment of our possibilities?  I guess, and speak of only myself, there comes a point in a man or woman's life when he or she inexplicably attains an equilibrium with existence.  A realization that life, no matter how complicated and extreme it can be, is negotiable.  And navigational.  To allow love and at the same time to not deny it.  A fortitude of solitude found in your existence deep within the chaos of a society.  Will peace come to you or will you come to peace?  I guess it never truly envelopes us but occasionally our heads hit the pillow at night and the mind doesn't continue in some looped replay of the day.  You merely fall asleep because you can.  And we welcome the rest for we are delightfully weary.  That is the welcomed rest that many seek but don't realize it can be caught.  It just has to become the possible.  My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.  Email if you want at rueuhy@gmail.com