For Your Consideration

The G.I. Joe Incident

I mentioned this a while ago and promised I’d tell the story.  I will stay true to my word, but want you to know I am doing so at the risk of death from my brother.

My brother and I grew up with G.I. Joe dolls (“Action Figures” if your machismo is easily dented).  Not the newer, small crappy junk, but the 12-inch tall, life-life hair, kung-fu grip, scarred faced G.I. Joes (They have been making a fairly decent comeback as of late).  We also had every manner of accessory for them, not only from America but accessories sent by our Grandparents in England as well.  Guns, Jeeps, Scuba Gear, even a Lunar Capsule (All worth a small fortune these days…Too bad toys are wasted on children).

Anyway…our father traveled frequently and needed to be picked up at the airport.  Being about 7 years old (my brother 6 years old), our mother dressed us up nicely, combed our hair and piled us into the car for the 40-minute ride.  To keep us quiet for the trip, she tossed in a G.I. Joe.  Big mistake.

Traffic and bad weather worked against us and my mother was soon at her white knuckled limit trying to be on time and to deal with traffic, weather and kids.  So my brother and I entertained ourselves in the backseat with G.I. Joe.

I suppose I am to blame for what happened next.

I pulled the head off of G.I. Joe.  I pulled the damned head off, squeezed it and stuck it to my cheek.  The suction of Joe’s head, trying to return to shape, held it firmly in place.  I showed it to my brother.  His response was gratifying and wonderful.  He thought it was hilarious!  Of course my mother was at her wits end and we had to try to be quiet (suppressed laughter is always the best).  So he snorted and covered his mouth tightly, expelling his laughter in hissing farty noises between his hands and cheeks.  Encouraged, I removed it and stuck it to my forehead, my nose, my finger…I was a STAR!  I was entertaining!  I was funny!  It was GREAT!  Not being one to waste my moment in the limelight, I stuck the thing on my tongue, and mumbled some witty comment around the bulk of the plastic head stuck on my tongue.  The absolute pinnacle of humor!

Now my brother had been a wonderful audience, but it was time for him to get in on the act.  He grabbed the G.I. Joe head, squeezed the hell out of it and stuck it on his tongue.  He mumbled something past the life-like buzz cut hair and I just lost it.  I was giggling like some hyena on Crack.  He was thrilled, my mother was not and she told us so.  Somewhat subdued we rapidly retreated to the far corner of the backseat, just out of easy slapping range from the driver’s seat. 

Chastened, my brother attempted to remove the toy from his tongue and discovered he could not.  Tears rolling down his cheeks he tried vainly to remove it.  Shushing him to prevent the spankings, which were sure to come, I tried to help.  Nothing I did seemed to loosen the terrible vise like grip it had on his tongue. 

Unable to bring his tongue back in his mouth, my brother began to drool all over his nice clean outfit.  How had things gone so badly, so quickly?  He was now covered in drool, snot and tears, with a G.I. Joe head poking out of his mouth.  Fearing certain death, I began to cry as well.  And despite my silent pleas, God did not intervene and miracle the thing off his tongue.  So I told my Mom.

Our mother glanced back, did a comic type double take and did the only reasonable thing she could do.  While fighting traffic she reached back over the seat, seized the toy, yelled “Get that damned thing off your tongue!” and yanked…HARD.  My brother was jerked off his ass and halfway over the back of the car’s front seat (no seatbelt requirements in those days).  It didn’t work.

At the airport she pulled to the curb and struggled desperately to remove the toy.  Nothing worked.  My father perplexed that we had not met him at the gate, found all of us in tears.  “What the hell is going on?” he asked.  My mom told him.  This was followed by my father yanking my brother back and forth violently by the tongue, yelling at him to get the damned thing off his tongue.  To no avail.  They tried everything they could think of.  Even going so far as to use a small pair of scissors, my mom carried in her purse (don’t ask me why, it must be a mom thing), to cut a vent hole in the head.  Fearing they would cut his tongue they only sliced away a small portion of the life-like hair.

Anyway, this is where the humor gets thin.  We went to the Emergency room.  My father, highly embarrassed, refused to come in and chose to wait in the car (now I am a Dad and can no longer blame him).  The doctors saw NO humor, explaining my brother may very well lose a significant portion of his tongue.  They demanded my father come in and whisked my brother off to surgically remove the toy.  His tongue had swollen terribly which had prevented the toys removal and his tongue had turned a purplish black.  He had a cut that encircled his tongue from the edge of the toy head’s opening, which they had actually bandaged.  He soon recovered fully (which is the only reason why we now think the whole thing is funny).

Months later, we were informed by some family friends, who were laughing much like my brother and I had been in the car, that they had seen the head in a display case at the hospital.  Proudly displayed, among other toys and knick-knacks, which had been removed from the various orifices of other unfortunate children, was Joe’s head.  Split by a scalpel and adjacent to a placard which stated it had been removed from the tongue of a 6 year old child.

So that’s the story.  I suppose I could use it to write an argument against war toys (not my bag), or about our health care crisis in America, but some things are better left to stand on their own.  I think this is one.

Toledo…Losing the Battle Against Nazis

It’s old news by now.  A racial charged protest, sparks violence and looting.  You’ve surely seen some of the footage of rioting in Toledo, which happened over the weekend.

Now, I despise Neo-Nazis.  I have a severe knee jerk reaction to anyone who aligns themselves to the Nazi party.  I reside in Idaho, a one-time power center for American Nazis, and having been a Correctional Officer at a maximum-security prison, I have been exposed to the worst members and advocates of the Neo-Nazis. But as I have said before, I support their right of free speech.  In fact, when I see one of their leaders interviewed on TV I generally end up laughing.  It seems hatred, ignorance and a news crew really attracts the dimwitted to speak on camera.  (In reality, I know the news editors must giggle hysterically picking out the cream of the crop to show on the evening news).

Like most of you, I wish the Nazis would crawl back under their rock.  Unfortunately that isn’t going happen.  In fact, as I watched the news this morning I hear the Nazis want to march in Toledo again, since rioting disrupted their last march. 

Oh man…could it get any worse?  I only ask because a few idiots let the Nazis win.  That’s right, the headlines actually should have read…”Major Nazi Victory in Toledo”.  Because the news, is not filled with stories of some pitifully small march by Nazis, who traveled from Virginia to incite problems in Toledo, instead the news is filled with news of a violent clash with police and looting by Toledo residents who were counter protesting the Nazis.  The Nazis’ ended up being whisked away by police for their (and everyone else’s’) safety.  If the idea of a Nazi victory upsets you…it should.

I am certain the National Socialist Movement of Roanoke, Virginia is absolutely thrilled. They are going to get more mileage out of this than they could have possibly hoped for.  I expect if they are denied the right to march again, that they will have the assistance of the ACLU to force the issue and will probably win.

The late Dr. Martin Luther King advocated non-violence.  He was right.  Even the most hardhearted, could not justify the brutality inflicted on black Americans who non-violently protested for basic human rights and dignity.  The footage of fire hoses, police dogs and police batons used on peaceful protestors actually worked against those who advocated hatred.

The footage of the rioting in Toledo does exactly the opposite, it fans the flames of hatred and gives those who would start a race war the ability to point their fingers and say, “See?  See?”

If the Nazis’ want to march again…at least deny them a victory… and let them, ignore them and then let them crawl home.

Profiling…A Bitter Pill to Swallow

There is perhaps NOTHING I hate more, than being suspected of committing some crime.  For years, I took pride in being part of the “Thin Blue Line”, of protecting people from crime, trying to catch those responsible and incarcerating those found guilty.  So it really flames me to be suspected of potentially breaking that trust.  But I frequently find I am suspected of one thing or another.

It is that very reason why I actively try not to shop at CompUSA.  Why? Because not 10 feet from the registers shoppers are routinely subjected to CompUSA’s version of a cavity search.  I must prove the contents of the plastic CompUSA bag the cashier just gave match the items listed on the receipt.  Despite the copious amounts of security cameras, anti-theft tags and door sensors, outrageously bulky packaging of commonly shoplifted items…I still need to run the gauntlet past the smiling 17 year old, posted at the door, posturing like Sammy “The Bull” Gravano.

But, I still occasionally shop there.  Because they have what I’m looking for and on some level I believe they DO have a right to operate their business free of the rampant theft, which drives up costs for us all.

You undoubtedly have been subjected to some similar indignity.  It is much like the insult of “Profiling”.  Only the stakes were probably much higher.

Before the lawyers and courts became involved, we used what we called experience.  But it seems a Police Officer, on the stand, saying “…your Honor, in my experience blah, blah blah” was entirely insufficient for legal matters.

So the socially inept, but wickedly brilliant, kids we picked on in high school stepped up to save the day.  They feverishly worked out the statistical software; numbers were compiled, feed through an IBM and Viola!  A scientific and acceptable means to back up experience was created.  It was dubbed “Profiling” and things were good again, for a while anyway.

Then came the race card, the lawsuits, and a modifier was added, changing “Profiling” to “Racial Profiling”.  Never mind, that certain areas of our country will undoubtedly have some race or nationality predominately represented.  It was simply too volatile to continue its use.  Since we knew in our hearts that there was a large potential for misuse, we bought into the idea that it MUST be widely abused.

Now I certainly don’t expect anyone to like it.  In fact, I intensely dislike the fact that being a 42-year-old white male makes me an excellent candidate for the profile of a serial killer.  But that does not mean that Profiling is totally useless and should never be used.  In fact it is merely a tool.  A very useful tool when used correctly and in conjunction with other tools.  When Police are given a search warrant for a gun, they are generally restricted to searching only the items in a home where a gun could be hidden.  They are prevented from opening a letter on your desk, because it could not potentially hide a gun.  This is the way it should be.  If we applied the restrictions we apply to profiling, the police would be forced to search EVERYTHING or to RANDOMLY search a few items to try to find the gun.  I hazard a guess that that would be unacceptable to all of us.

We are faced with an impossible task, taking the human factor out the equation.  We need to use the tool and apply good reason when reviewing how the tool was applied.  Our whining over it has done nothing to protect us and is the reason Granny is forced to undergo the occasional strip search at the airport.  We definitely need to Get Over It.

“Bush Lied”…Memory is a Funny Thing

My mother came to visit last month.  For the most part I enjoy it when she comes to visit.  Who else is so eminently qualified to bring up every misdeed from my childhood and share it with my children?  My kids enjoy her as well; they gleefully absorb every word of her sordid recollections of my hiding fish sticks under various pieces of furnishing to avoid eating them.  They exhibit the same glazed eyed sense of wonder as she relates tales of the time I burned the skin and hair from my face with gunpowder and giggle satanically over the whole G.I. Joe head incident (that is a story I will share another day).

Her memory is uncanny and for the most part highly accurate.  Except, when it comes to current events and politics.

Our debates are lively and tend to increase in volume.  I suppose I inherited the assumption that if I cannot win her over with the facts, I may gain some advantage by out shouting her.

Our last debate was over the war in Iraq.  Her opening shot in this debate?  “Bush Lied”.

Now, it may help you to decide if I am some brainwashed twit, if you know that I served in both the Army and Coast Guard.  I also spent and number years in Law Enforcement and Corrections.  I was initially activated (while a National Guardsman between active service in the Army and Coast Guard) for the first Gulf War, but thankfully it was over before by unit could be ramped up and deployed.  I also have a number of friends who continue to serve in the military, some in both Afghanistan and Iraq.

I cared about Iraq.  I had good reason to care.  It was gonna be my boots or the boots of my friends on the ground if we had to go back.  So…Yes Mom, I was paying attention.

With that being said, I was floored by her accusation.  She went on to say that Bush had lied about Iraq and weapons of mass destruction in order to go to war.  I am certain you have also heard this accusation repeated ad nauseam. This is certainly something on which my mother’s and my memories differ, vastly.

Here is how I recall it…

After Iraq was driven out of Kuwait in the first Gulf War, the United Nations placed a number of sanctions on the government of Iraq.

These sanctions were largely ignored, UN inspectors hampered, and Saddam went on ruling Iraq much as he had before the Gulf War.  Read UN Resolution 1441 if you don’t want to take my word for it.

http://www.un.org/Docs/scres/2002/sc2002.htm

You may remember that over the next 12 years or so, the news in the U.S. occasionally covered that fact that Iraq forces routinely fired anti-aircraft guns and missiles at American planes patrolling the “No-Fly Zone”.  It also covered the harassment the UN weapons inspectors faced.  In fact, things got so bad that Saddam announced he would no longer work with Inspectors and they were pulled from Iraq in October of 1998.  As a result we bombed suspected weapons facilities.

It was all somehow generally blown off as small stuff.  Heck, we had wide support and cooperation and had pushed Iraq out of Kuwait.  So long as Saddam confined his abuses within his borders we (the American public) really didn’t take much notice.  As far as we were concerned, it was over.

After 9-11, things heated up.  Bush pushed for the UN to pass Resolution 1441.  New inspections were started, and then stopped.  Saber rattling and preparations for war began in earnest.  Finally, Bush issued an ultimatum for Saddam and his sons to step down from power within 48 hours or that the U.S. and allied forces would enforce the resolution.

The date came and passed.  We started bombing 19 March 2003.

It all could have and should have been avoided.  The years following the first gulf war are filled with wasted and missed opportunities.  Had Saddam never invaded Kuwait…had he allowed unfettered inspections…had he even of tried to comply with UN resolutions…had he stepped down…Had the United Nations had the fortitude to actually stand behind, and enforce it’s hollow declarations, we would not be where we are today.

While it is clear now, that Iraq’s weapons of mass were a somewhat overstated threat.  It was to his advantage to have the world wonder, to worry and to fear such weapons.  Clearly he had them.  There is a substantial amount of credible evidence that the United States exported chemical and biological materials to Iraq, which were converted to weapons and used by Iraq against our mutual enemy, Iran.  Saddam also used them on dissidents in his own country.  If you accept those facts, that we helped arm the bastard (when it was to our advantage) and he used them while we essentially sat on our hands and shook our heads…Then it is undeniable that we were fully aware such weapons, in all likelihood existed and that they presented a clear threat.  In fact, we were so certain Iraq possessed these weapons, it was the single most over-riding concern of the U.S. military that these weapons would be used on our troops, if and when we entered Iraq.  Therefore, it is unconscionable to blame Bush or to accuse him of lying.

I have thus decided that memory is selective.  We subconsciously filter facts, hoarding only those few gems, which support our views and opinions.  Everything else disappears into the vapor and mist. We need to be constantly vigilant and actively strive to be accurate in our memories.  Otherwise, we may be forced to rely on the memories of others.

These facts (as I have remembered them) failed to work on my mother.  My superior volume level failed as well.  I only hope you and I can avoid a shouting match.

Note:  I have over-simplified my argument for the sake of time and space.  For those interested in a much more complete timeline I suggest you review the following site… http://www.ipsnews.net/iraq/timeline.asp 

Many Thanks

I am thankful for those of you who are signing in and beginning to follow along as I vent some of the poison from my system.

I am especially thankful to the Commentors, who have elected to join in.  Besides confirming my suspicion that I don't stand alone (Your company is welcome and much appreciated), your astute observations and comments add a layer of depth I could not reach unaided.

Stay the course and we'll see where the winds take us.  I'm sure it won't disappoint.

Tolerance Gone Astray

One of the things that really makes me rabid is the current focus on “tolerance”.  I agree we need tolerance to survive in today’s society.  Otherwise I would have strangled my neighbors two homes and two vacant fields down the street from me, some time ago.  Hearing their music and drunken “F-This, F-That and F-You” at 3am in the morning is a bit more than I am willing to tolerate just to be a good neighbor.  Therein lies my point.  There must be a line.  Moving that line too far in either direction a bad idea.  If we lose the balance, the whole mess comes tumbling down.

Certain people demand that I be tolerant of them, their beliefs and actions.  That whole idea makes me cramp up and want to vomit.  Most of the people and groups who really NEED to invoke the mystical chant of tolerance, are tying to justify behavior generally considered to be bad, immoral or obscene at one point of another.

Now, I could care less, about what consenting adults do in private (emphasis on CONSENTING, ADULTS and PRIVATE).  I cannot and do not wish to speak on behalf of hateful zealots who obviously run their lives so well they have time to help us run ours.  I do however believe that most Americans who have their plates full trying to make ends meet feel the same way.  We are simply too busy and/or don’t care enough to become bedroom cops for consenting adults.

 

There are some individuals and groups however, whose agendas go well beyond the pale.  They are being allowed to hijack a legitimate argument to push an illegitimate agenda.  They use the word tolerance as if it were some kind of magic talisman that trumps any kind of logic or reason.  I call it B.S., and I present the most heinous example I am aware of, to back my case…

NAMBLA (The North American Man Boy Love Association).  NAMBLA is an organization, which seeks to promote, legitimize and legalize sexual relationships between adult men and minor boys.  Oh yeah, these guys exist.  You should by all means check out their website and read it in their own words.  www.nambla.org .  I couldn’t cause them anymore harm than to let you read it for yourself and form your own opinion.

The people who make up NAMBLA would love nothing more than for you to tolerate them and their behavior.  In fact, they ask nothing more than for you to stick your head in the sand and to “tolerate” them seducing children, under the age of consent, into a sexual relationship.

They don’t need to be tolerated…they need to be hunted down and incarcerated or segregated from society (Hey…My Blog/My Opinion).  In fact, take just a moment to imagine the consequences if we WERE to tolerate a group like NAMBLA…If they were allowed to go on without any checks in place…imagine 5 years or 10 years down that road.  Somehow, the loving Utopia they hope for, escapes my imagination entirely.

But I have used what is almost universally considered to be an abhorrent, vile organization to make my point. 

All I ask is that you not fall victim to the “tolerance” trump card.  Don’t let anyone use such a weak tool, to strike you silent.  Do not feel obligated to buy into some inane cause because someone pressures you and makes you feel like some sort of bad, narrow minded person just because you don’t tolerate them.  Do your own research, listen to the arguments, and make your own decision.  You don’t need to tolerate a damned thing just because someone says so.  Remember, it is a balancing act.  Tolerance and Intolerance need to exist hand in hand, and both are ok in small equal doses.

On Being Politically Correct

As a child, I was taught by my parents to be polite.  I was told things like “If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all”.  When I ignored their guidance, I was punished (especially when what I had to say embarrassed the hell out of them).  So to avoid the lectures, groundings and spankings I learned to be mostly polite.  It has served me well over many years.

But things have changed…As near as I can tell, sometime around the 15 minutes of fame Boy George enjoyed, things changed a lot and some drone left me off the memo’s distribution list.

Apparently the Special Interest Groups, the Government, and Corporate America usurped my parents’ authority and positioned themselves so that they might be my judge, jury and executioner.  They added rules and conditions; I wasn’t consulted.  They lobbied the powers that be; I wasn’t advised.  They passed laws; I still had no stinking idea.  Why, you may ask, was this idiot so far out of the loop?  I was busy.  Busy serving my country.  Busy doing countless push-ups in Alabama, busy training with an M-16 to defend the very Constitution they were busy choking to death.

Oh, the word eventually got down to me.  It came in the form of additional training.  Hours and hours of it.  The new rules were gone over, the new punishments, the new repercussions, repeatedly.  Somewhere in a cardboard box in some Government warehouse, exists a couple reams of paper, each sheet bearing my signature attesting that I had been made aware of these changes.  Similar papers exist in the files of every company I worked for since.  Why? So I could be held accountable for my own actions.  Hell, I already knew that.  If I did well and behaved, I reaped the rewards.  If I screwed up, I paid the price.  It had been that way as long as I can remember.

So what did it all gain?  It changed our language.  In fact it hobbled our ability to communicate.  It erased words from our usable vocabulary.  Harmless words like actress and stewardess.  Words used to be specific, to identify the male from the female “Flight Attendant” or “Actor”.  It made the mention of someone’s race taboo.  Instead of people studying and being proud of their heritage, we discourage its mention like it is some shameful secret.  It added a few words as well, like “hate crime”.  Man!  It is absolutely frightening how close we are to fulfilling George Orwell’s vision of “Thought Crime” (if you don’t know what I am talking about read “1984” by George Orwell, his vision of a possible future is both terrifying and prophetic).

What a steaming pile of crap!  It is appalling to me that we cloak ourselves in this manure like it was a protective shield.  Does anyone out there really believe that by embracing political correctness and that the stifling of free speech has changed the poison in people’s hearts and minds?  If so, you are quite plainly an idiot and desperately need to pull your head out of your nether regions before you run out of oxygen!  It has simply driven it underground.  Instead of repairing a faulty foundation, it has merely been painted over.  Hidden from view by the thinnest of veils.

The blows a victim of an assault receive hurt no more or no less, cause no more or less injury, regardless of whether the assault is motivated by sexist, racist or religious hatred.  Remember the “Sticks and stones” adage?

We are all human.  We love and hate.  We need to spend more time on learning to live and let live than in trying to hide our flaws and true nature.

I for one embrace our First Amendment, protecting free speech.  Painful or not.  Every time I meet someone who is a racist, sexist idiot or hateful religious zealot, who obviously didn’t get “the memo” and speaks their true mind, I am thankful.  I am thankful I know what kind of person I’m dealing with, instead of being duped by a thin layer of paint that just makes things pretty on the surface.

How about you?

A Word of Welcome

Since you are here, undoubtedly you have been directed here by my closest friend and author, Dave Lakhani (buy and read his latest book “Persuasion:  The Art of Getting What You Want”, you won’t regret it.), or you have obviously stumbled down the web’s version of the Rabbit’s hole.  Either way, you are welcome here. So pull up a chair next to Alice and let’s get this show on the road.

As a gift to me, Dave paid for the subscription to this blog service.  So, either he is sick of listening to me or considers it funny to inflict me on the general public.  Dave is generally amused my foaming at the mouth rants.  He believes there their may even be an audience out there that would appreciate hearing what I have to say.  That is an unsettling thought to say the least.  Mostly because I believe we (Americans) have lost our minds.  We are a few cans shy of a six-pack and half drunk, can’t remember downing them.

I can find no other explanation for our seemingly endless (and mostly baseless) self-hatred as Americans and the brainless, selfish causes we seem to adore.

I hope to amuse and anger you and to relieve you of some of the “All American” self-hatred we like to carry.  Box it up and put it in the attic, you won’t need it here.  If you find you must pull it out every now and again to gloat over it, fine.  Just don’t expect me to help you carry the baggage without a generous and substantial tip!