Parodoxical Ideals

Since I recently opened the political can of worms on my last post I feel this would be a good time to broach another bothersome issue before changing the subject. It has been ruffling my feathers for quite some time, and although I'm sharing these thoughts mostly as a way to express my frustrations about society, I welcome comments that may be able to shed some understanding and justification on what I see as contradictory ethics and rampant hypocrisy.

I'm referring to the basic ideology of right-wing politics, aka, the Republican party. Without attempting the daunting task of dissecting a wide array of individual causes, examining their partisan principles in a nutshell exemplifies my point. Now before you accuse me of being an extreme leftist, you should know that a few of my personal stances actually fall within the parameters of elephant territory. One example is that I do not unequivocally oppose capital punishment, especially considering the advancements in the field of forensic science and the accuracy of DNA. In fact, if anything I advocate a more expedient process with fewer appeals and tax dollars spent on executions. I additionally hold moderate views regarding immigration laws and reducing the negative impact illegal immigrants have on our economy.

However, the conglomerate of Republican ideals is riddled with contradiction. Interestingly--and although I would never be so cavalier as to say all--it is relatively safe to say that most right-wing citizens practice and/or value Christianity (in fact, some even say they vote for the conservative candidate primarily as a result of religious views). For this reason I find it extraordinarily intriguing that these very same conservatives not only support, but often fight for such issues as the death penalty, gun rights, and going to war! Equally ironic is that one of their big ticket issues is maintaining low taxes (including for the wealthy and multi-million dollar corporations) while simultaneously demanding we spend oodles of government funds on not only maintaining a super-sized military, but attacking every country posing some sort of perceived threat, realistic or not. Meanwhile, our children are receiving the worst educations of nearly any civilized country, our natural resources are rapidly declining, and the rest of the world is losing respect for the United Bullies of America--issues that left unchecked have me wondering just exactly how we expect to be the world super power in future generations?

Secondly, I find it rather peculiar that so many of the Jesus-followers who vehemently oppose abortion rights also oppose government aid to the needy! Admittedly, our welfare system is extremely flawed and in desperate need of reform, but how can anyone be so callous as to support allocating billions of dollars for bombing and rebuilding other countries, yet advocate abandoning the less-fortunate citizens of our own? And how can people be so naive to think that a society benefits from dictating our human rights and then refusing to help the people affected by those very regulations? And how, pray tell, do these belief-systems coalesce with the teachings of their supposed Savior?

I honestly can't make the logical connection between Christianity and the Republican party as there seems to be a gigantic gap between these religious and political ideals. Let's simplify: Pro guns. Pro war. Pro big business. Pro God.

Er?

On the flip side we have: Anti-welfare. Anti-public eduction. Anti-gay rights. Anti-stem-cell research. Aka, anti-progress.

It would seem that Republicans oppose anything that doesn't directly aid in lining their pockets or mirror their assumed morals. (Morals, mind you, which preclude victims of rape from ending an unwanted pregnancy, yet tolerate tax dollars contributing to the killings of innocent children and babies in far away lands because, although unfortunate, those means are justifiable.)

Again, I am perplexed. Pro life. Pro war. Now take a moment to stop and digest the irony in these words: Pro life. Pro war.

I certainly wouldn't suggest that either side is free from corruption or exempt from contradictions, but based on its fundamental principles, the Republican party is plagued with hypocrisy. Whether or not you agree, I have come to this conclusion: After boiling down all the bureaucracy of partisanship to get to the bottom line lies one fundamental difference between left and right, blue and red, donkey and elephant: A Republican fights for himself, while a Democrat fights for the people.

Interestingly, it isn't the Christian dominated party which prioritizes human rights over profit and power.

Palin, the Political Poison

There's no sense in beating around the bush: I'm scared. As in genuinely nervous and fearful regarding the direction of this country. Considering our current economic state I suppose almost anyone could rightfully make the same claim; yet for me, the fear that Sarah Palin could very well be the Commander-in-Chief of this nation in the not-so-distant future supercedes our present day recession. I admit I have spent the greater part of my life politically apathetic. I didn't follow the elections all that closely, nor did I watch the televised debates thoroughly or even gave much credence to what the media was buzzing about. That is, until now.

Although I've been leaning towards Barack Obama for a while, I still didn't feel a great sense of urgency regarding the election until McCain made his infamous VP selection, who contrary to popular belief is no Mary Magdalene. Granted, I have never been her #1 fan but the more I learn about her and the more I see of her, the more red flags that begin to wave and the more my instinctive alarms go off. For Palin, people, is nothing more than a fresh and polished, but very poisonous apple.

Personally, I have not heard one positive thing this woman "stands for." In fact, she evades answering questions like typhoid fever. Anyone who is naive enough to think she makes a good candidate because she is an unseasoned, "six-pack Joe" is a bloody fool. It takes a lot of manipulation tactics to be as evasive as she is and who is better suited to grandstanding than a politician? It doesn't take several terms as Senator to develop these skills; for some, it just comes naturally.

She has complained about how much Katie Couric annoyed her because she claims Couric was trying to "trap" her into being straight-forward. She has misquoted and misinterpreted Madeleine Albright to insinuate that any woman who does not vote for her is going to Hell. She has flat-out stated that instead of answering interviewers questions she wanted to talk about what the Americans really care about, which in her professional opinion--is bashing Obama. She ignored Gwen Ifill, the moderator of the vice-presidential debate, continuing on with her own selfish agenda.

Sidestepping the whole issue that I firmly believe in the separation of church and state, a distinction that she clearly seems unable to recognize, this woman, who wasn't even a terrific governor of an underpopulated state, has absolutely no business being in the running in the first place. Anyone with a lick of sense knows she was chosen solely as a publicity tactic and not for merit, credentials or experience. Her loyalties do not lie among the people of this nation--that is more than evident! She has but one goal and two strategies to get there. Realizing that she actually has a shot at becoming this country's first female VP and possibly first female president, her eyes are fixed firmly upon the white house as she eagerly licks her chops.

To anyone who reads between the lines (as we all should do before casting a vote in an election as important as this) her strategies are as obvious as her aspiration. Her first line of defense to avoid giving concrete, credible answers is to create a diversion by slewing verbal arsenals at Obama with any means necessary. The reason is obvious: when you lack any merit by which to elevate yourself, you must tear your opponent down.

Her second gimmick to fool Americans into forgetting her deficits is attempting to create the illusion of some great alliance by affiliating herself with the country's "everyday" citizens. If she is such an average Joe who understands and empathizes with the plights of the people, why, praytell, is she against women's rights? Why is she against abortion, yet simultaneously against programs to help the impoverished, such as young, unwed mothers? WHY are women in the state she governs forced to buy their own rape kits? Does this sound like someone who really gives a God-forsaken damn?

So what, she's attractive. She goes to church. She's a mom. The last time I checked these weren't valid qualifications to run the United States of America! For crying out loud, if we think George W. Bush is a joke, then she's the punchline! She simply can not be trusted and she is using the aforementioned qualities to her benefit to paint a superficial appearance for which to hide the manipulative and selfish person residing within.

Contrary to what you're probably thinking, I would not go so far as to classify myself as a democrat. While I do share more of the liberal ideology, I readily admit many of our systems need serious reform. Yet, under no circumstances do I want our country to take two steps back for every one we've taken. As much as I would like to see a woman in power, it must be the right woman. One who advocates justice, progression, and social values. Most importantly, one with integrity.


Sources:
(A thank you to Pentad's blog which led me to some of these links.)

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/10/03/palin-on-fox-news-couric_n_131655.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/10/05/ifill-palin-blew-me-off_n_132028.html

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/10/05/palin-misquotes-albright_n_131967.html

Flying High

I must admit something before beginning: I am not completely sober or in a traditional state-of-mind. After all, I am on a cross-country flight to return home from yet another intoxicating trip to one of my favorite places. There was honestly no pun intended on the adjective chosen to describe my escape; however, intoxicating is amusingly appropriate considering the “cups” of wine I've recently consumed on this flight coupled with the fact that I've had very little to eat, and am listening to some of my favorite tunes thanks to Apple technology (which even under normal circumstances can take me to another time and place). I honestly can not describe the feeling I get while in and around Los Angeles. Add good music to a perfect ambiance and I become completely entranced. Interestingly, after a long hiatus from visiting in which I convinced myself I would no longer benefit in the same way that I used to, I discovered, then confirmed, on my last two trips respectively, that the city of angels will always have a hold over me.

I'm lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you look at it) even to be on this plane. It was far too close a call whether or not I would make my flight. Far too close even for me. My general laid back, “it'll be fine, relax” nature is actually what nearly caused me to miss it in the first place. In other words, I wanted to extract every second I could before departing and therefore dicked around too long this morning focused on the elements that lay in my favor--such as my flight was out of Orange County instead of LAX, which is not only much smaller, but also much closer—and neglected to give enough credence to the negating factors including the fact I still had to return the rental car as well as fill it up with gas before so. Nor did I anticipate the many other things that could go wrong and only do so when one is suffering a time crunch of critical importance. On the bright side, I felt justified in the fact that I simply had no choice but to test the limits of the cherry red Mustang as I made my way down the 405 towards John Wayne airport. The combination of speed, fresh air, good music and adrenaline made for a very nice drive indeed. Yet the adventure was far from over.

Skipping the rest of the many gory details (yes, I even cut in line--ironically, at the advice of airport employees)--except to say that it would have made for some interesting, if not humorous footage had I been the subject of some ridiculous reality series--I will say that I have spent the last hour or two (really have no idea) enjoying my amphetamine and alcohol induced state of being (both perfectly legal and neither of which I abuse, mind you) reflecting on how wonderful and simultaneously bitter-sweet life can be.

To be continued...

The Basket Of Denial: A Short Story

Once upon a time there was a fictitious man named Dave who, although fictitious, bore grave importance because he was so very representative of the many men and women living in the alternate universe of non-fiction, aka reality, who shared the same condition. In an interesting twist, not only was Dave himself fictitious but so were many of the beliefs in his head. This is because the poor fella was afflicted with what we in the real world call denial. My definition for this condition: A stubborn and selfishly motivated disillusionment about certain facts of reality which, if accepted as truth would rob bearer of his or her blissful ignorance. Well, this creates a problem since in order to maintain self-preservation the bearer must choose to ignore or deny said facts and, since denying them does not actually make them any less real, the cycle continues.

So back to Dave. Dave was in denial about a lot of things that he didn't wish to be true ranging from his parents' emotional abuse, to his children's issues, to his own negligent and often foolish behaviors. He consistently made excuses, manipulated facts, and swept things under the rug, somehow believing that he would not have to deal with such problems if he ignored them long enough. Now if only his family members were able to join him in the depths of his mythological mind, they too may have been able to ignore these situations. But unfortunately they reside in the real world where not only do the issues remain, but left untreated, intensify. Because of this, Dave's refusal to see things for what they really were slowly destroyed the bridge between him and his loved-ones.

With the almighty wisdom bestowed upon me as narrator, I analogize this practicing of incessant denial to putting all of your eggs into one basket. After all, maintaining denial is nothing short of banking on the premise that either your beliefs are true or will eventually be accepted as true the longer you protest. Yet this unhealthy mind game can only function for so long before frustration and resentment moves any capable and responsible beneficiaries of the behavior to demand change or incite it themselves, usually via ultimatum or a parting of the ways. At least that's what happened to Dave.

One morning Dave woke up to find that his wife, Diane, was actually serious all those times she said she'd had enough. It was now too late; she was gone. He suddenly became aware that his tightly woven universe was unraveling although he really shouldn't have been surprised—after all, the basket had slowly been slipping from his grip for quite some time now as Diane had repeatedly shared her frustrations and discontent with him. She was desperate for growth and vitality; he was desperate not to change. Ever. And he had successfully prevented any for years. What he hadn't expected, however, was that she would finally draw the parallel of this situation to one she had learned long ago in discipling her children: idle threats are quickly defeated -- one must follow through their alleged intent or become equally guilty in fueling the flames of the vicious cycle. Naturally, Dave hadn't counted on this realization.

Now, a person of merit (or at least of compassion) would find a way to win her back. But Dave? He just lost his grip. On the basket of denial, that is. At the moment the basket made its last contact with his skin--his fingers desperately fumbling, reaching for the handle--his unwise investment was finally realized, yet again too late. Burning into one's memory the sights and sounds of a life falling apart, was the unforgettable scene of spilling eggs accompanied by a sharp and poignant noise that echoed like a choir of shattering glass as one by one each fragile piece of the past tumbled slowly and dramatically to the ground.

In the aftermath the shattered shards of shell lie loosely bound together by the slimy remnants of life that was once contained within. Hoping to salvage something from the mess, Dave soon discovered that scramble as they may to repair the damage, neither all the kings horses nor all the kings men can put a blind man's basket (fictitious or otherwise) back together again.

Morals of the story?

1) The truth hurts, but denial doesn't change it.

2) Waiting until it's too late is just that.

My prescription for this condition: Reality. And now.

Please note that it does not come in liquid form, only non-coated, hard to swallow tablets. Must be swallowed whole. Do not crush or break.

Possible side effects: vertigo, confusion, disgruntle, upset stomach. (If you begin experiencing hallucinations, need not fear, this is not a side effect, just the part of the world you have refused to see.)

The End.

What I Know

Life is a continual learning process and I am currently in the process of learning that we often never arrive at the answer we are in search of--at least not overnight and not in the way we expect.

In essence, I ran away to Paris. I ran for several reasons, not the least of which was to simply escape. I needed, not wanted, but needed some time away from my relentless troubles and, quite frankly, from my life. I thought by getting out of the thick of it I would be able to better decipher which course I should take at this crucial crossroads in my life while simultaneously evaluating what it is I really do want. Yet once basking in the magnificent and fascinating city that is Paris, the last thing I wanted to do was pause to contemplate my problems! I may not have developed any epiphanies as to which solution shall best repair my ruinous path, but I do feel that I have grown some, changed some, and realized a few things that deep down I've probably known all along. I was reminded of my personal strength and resolve which actually bears greater value in the outcome of this story than the choice itself. In other words, I essentially arrived at my answer; it just didn't come to me in the form I was originally anticipating.

I surmise it is rather fitting that living in the City of Lights for a few weeks would illuminate the dusty bulb in my head and aid the rediscovery of certain knowledge that had spent far too much time in the dark (rather than referring to my time there as visiting or staying in Paris, I have deliberately phrased it so that the verb would more suitably reflect the action--for living is precisely what I did). It is ironic that being thousands of miles from home and adopting a foreign lifestyle is what brought me closer to what was once so familiar; for at one time I was much more in tune with my strength and determination. I was living quite differently than I do now, and very contentedly so.

Over the past several months I have allowed the depths of the unknown to weigh heavily upon me, hindering any action one way or another. Now, in light of my Parisian adventure, I plan to focus less on what I don't know and more on what I do know.

Firstly, I know that I alone am responsible for my happiness, and am therefore becoming more committed to said pursuit.

Secondly, I know I don't need oodles of material possessions, such as my big house or perfectly dressed children to be happy. It amazes me that as we get used to having nice things we begin to feel defined by them and eventually lose our true identities and self-worth to meaningless objects. I have learned that in reality “all this” contributes very little, if any, to my overall happiness. I am certainly not ready to give up all modern comforts, but I can just as certainly be comfortable with less—exceedingly so if I were more fulfilled and enriched in the other areas of my life.

I know that I need more than a life of domesticity to feel satisfied, happy and whole. I need novelty and adventure every so often to feel alive. I would also greatly benefit by experiencing a sense of accomplishment, particularly if I could turn an interest I am passionate about into a way to financially provide for myself.

I know that always playing it safe constrains one's spirit. Just as we can't expect great things to happen if we don't take risks, we can't expect things to improve if we don't incite change. Nor can we expect to live our lives to their fullest potential if we always dismiss our discontent and insatiable yearning.

And possibly most importantly of all, I know that I am strong and completely capable. If I can manage to survive a slew of misadventures while traveling alone in a foreign country--ready to go back for more before it is even over--I surmise I can hold my own in most situations. I utilized my own judgment and instincts, explaining myself to no one. And wouldn't you know: every situation was successfully resolved. Not only that, being on my own much of the time allowed me the luxury of enjoying each moment without the pollution of interruptions or the pressure to hurry. I was happier than I've been in a very long time and even made more friends in my three weeks there than in my five years here.

I guess in some ways I did have an epiphany regarding my future and taking a crack at independence in the big, bad world. The answer I found wasn't exactly whether or not I should do it. The answer I found was that I can do it.

La Joie De Vivre

In spite of suffering initial homesickness and a great many misadventures, I am currently faring much better than my own predictions at the commencement of this Parisienne expedition. At the peak of my loneliness and longing for my children I quite literally dreaded the duration of my stay. For what could I possibly do here for nearly three weeks? I proceeded to diagnose myself as clinically insane for booking a solo voyage to a foreign country for a period of longer than four or five days. However, as I have discovered it requires a certain amount of time to fully enjoy the destination and reap the benefits of getting away. The first days are extremely stressful as you must not only become geographically acclimated, but culturally as well.

I have visited many of the “must-see” sights of Paris, and although there are still a few specific things I would like to do, I can now slow down and actually enjoy this beautiful and historic mecca. There is a very distinct difference between seeing a place and experiencing it. When visiting for only a few days and going from one tourist attraction to another, so very much gets missed. It is difficult, if not impossible, to really get the essence of a place when you only scratch the surface and hastily at that.

More than on any other journey I have felt the freedom to aimlessly walk in search of only whatever it is that lies around the corner. I found a marvelous long-cut back to my apartment by getting off at a different metro station. It is a little further away but well-worth it. When I ascend to the top of the stairs from the metro station and emerge at ground level I am immediately surrounded by Le Louvre and the Palais Royal. Then I get to cut through the Palais Royal gardens and under a long canopy of trees that extends the length of the gardens. On one side of what feels like my secret path are cute cafes for outdoor dining and on the other are the palace fountains naturally fit for a queen. This walk home c'est tres magnifique!

Another example to the benefit of an extended stay is how on a traditional vacation I may have considered today a bit of a waste because I did not have my camera nor did I mentally check anything off my to-do list. Yet taking things one day at a time and implementing a “joie de vivre” mindset I realize what a truly wonderful day it was, albeit completely spontaneous and unexpected. I was fortunate and pleasantly surprised to have good company who showed me many beautiful places I never would have seen otherwise. We were in no hurry and had no particular destination. Throughout our meandering we experienced a mix of clouds, sunshine, and a sudden downpour. The weather was so erratic it may possibly cause me to falsely recollect today's journey as not one, but several.

On a few occasions the setting was so spectacular I was compelled to simply stop and soak it in. I just stood there, literally savoring the place, the sights, the sounds, the moment. At one time I leaned on a railing on a bridge of the Seine enjoying the most amazing view. I remember equally enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face as it simultaneously illuminated the scene before me. Adding to the perfect ambiance, a band was playing music in the street. Then, just when I thought it couldn't get any better, the bells of Notre Dame began ringing just a few short yards away. It was purely magical; that is la joie de vivre.

In between some of the more extraordinary moments it recently occurred to me that I have not done much, if any, thinking about the things I came here to think about. Yet, I also came here to get away from many things and that I have done. In the process of realizing that I haven't had any epiphanies about my situation, I have realized that there is no deadline by which I must reach a definitive conclusion. Instead of thinking, analyzing, and weighing my problems I am learning to take things one day at a time. Often the bigger picture is just too overwhelming. With the mentality that every little decision I make could affect the next decision and the next and the next, it puts an extraordinary amount of pressure on anything I do! I am slowly learning to roll with the punches—and I have had many punches to roll with over the last week, let me tell you. Granted the things happening here aren't likely to affect the rest of my life, I would surmise that learning to have joie de vivre is a definite step in the right direction. In fact, that may just affect the rest of my life more than anything else.

Now, anyone want to see a picture of my super nasty blister?