Choosing to be a nonchoosy beggar

“Who will go first?”  Lee heard the question as if the train engines rumbling past, playing hide-and-seek through the treed hedges at the edge of the grocery store carpark, had blasted the words with warning horns at the road crossing next to the neighbourhood recycling centre.

Word-by-word, phrase-by-prepositional-phrase, his thoughts followed in unison.

At what level of explanation did he need to understand the recent crossroad of decisions concerning a group of people intent on fighting each other over philosophical differences, yet another internal squabble that had little to do with Lee directly but much to do with his understanding of human suffering and politically-centred international commerce.

What of his species had been accomplished without military involvement?  What of his species had been sustained with military involvement?

What did the word “military” mean, exactly, another dictionary definition that barely had anything to do with complicated interaction between sets of states of energy that had convinced themselves they were separate from the universe, independently able to make their way above, across and under the earth?

For some, the ironic battle cry was “War is not the answer.”

For others, the rallying quote was “Evangelism is one beggar telling another where to find bread.” [Credited to D. T. Niles]

In this cultural rewind, forgotten from generation to generation, ad infinitum, of the popular (and not so popular) definitions of gender roles, what constituted the aggressive “testosterone” version of international aid and what constituted the sympathetic “estrogen” version?

In a situation like this, Lee was not confused.

He knew he depended on the whole species for answers that were never final, constantly re-evaluated and reworked as much as an individual’s set of states of energy fluctuated from moment to moment despite our willingness to give a set a name like Dick or Jane as if the name alone meant that a set of states of energy at seven years of age was in any way the same as the set at 70 years of age that collected more memories and changes in cell structures, organ health, etc.

The answers were not simple, Lee knew that.

He looked at his current set of friends, comparing them to friends from the past, friends he had met because of mandatory school attendance or by self-deception that having a job was mandatory to be a fully-responsible member of a hierarchical culture.

His personality determined the people with whom he connected best who changed his personality, thus changing the next types of people with whom he connected best — a cycle of change that did not complete a single revolution, leading to new loops that swooped in and out of each other like the drawing of a Celtic animal in a geometric pattern.

Lee looked back but he also looked forward.

What gave him hope?

Was it the moment his wife, Karen, finally told him, “Go on.  I know I’m slowing you down.  I’ll be all right.”, without lacing the words with guilt-inducing tones?

Did he call that a healing moment that gave both of them a freedom they had not willingly conceded due to a deep-seated uncertainty about the early days of their relationship, before they were married, when Lee dated many women at once, Karen often feeling ignored, he always focused on Karen as a stable part of his life who met much but not all of his gender-driven needs?

Hadn’t they survived the transition from platonic friends to trusting lovers without their relationship falling apart when they were tested later on by shocking deaths in the family and outside temptations including demanding work schedules that kept them apart for months at a time, halfway ’round the world, calling each other almost everyday, feeling guilty if they hadn’t, sharing every sordid details about their separate existence?

Trust and flexibility applied at macro levels, too, didn’t they?

What solution did his species find to resolve the military-based conflict between two groups of people in Syria?

How many medical discoveries were funded by governments that employed military-style bureaucracies?

How many social programs were initiated because of wartime conflict?

The only way to get two opponents together was to let them know they could.

“Who will go first?”  What did that mean — who would step forward first or who would be the first to die?

For Lee’s family and his subculture, the local issues at stake for Syrians seemed inconsequential.  Freedom from tyranny?  Access to better healthcare?  These were the same unanswered questions plaguing Americans: the cruel tyranny of international commerce that shone a blind eye toward un/underemployed Americans; healthcare costs spiraling upward out of control.

Lee’s subculture wanted its answers first before some small country full of people killing each other indiscriminately would seem worth unexplained government involvement, adding more military/international aid expenditures to the national debt accumulation.

How relieved Lee felt when Karen dropped the guilt complex from their relationship, aided by their recent friendships with Eoj, Bai and Guin, the latter at first a perceived threat to Karen and her marriage to Lee until she realised that Lee’s love for new friends willing to push Lee to become a better person did not diminish his longterm love for Karen, he ignoring her in the shortterm to become a closer friend for life.  Lee had not changed who he was before or after their marriage but Karen sometimes lost sight of the big picture.

The same could be said for international relationships.

The United States of America had often stepped up to be the responsible adult in the room, bullying its way into a crowded room full of countries with questionable agendas, bettering the world economy in the longterm.

History is an illusion but still useful for establishing goals that indicated consistent trends.

Syria was not a single person with simple needs.

Neither is freedom.

Listening to all sides of an argument takes patience and understanding that some people will be unhappy, no matter what, and others’ happiness will change for the better, relatively speaking, when asked to get involved improving the miserable life of people they may never to go know.

A part-time worker in a US retail store, living week-by-week, may just feel a little happier knowing that her country was able to help someone in worse shape even if both of them end up living week-by-week in the future.

How do we give people hope that international corporations competing for Syria’s marketplace potential is in their best interest?

Lee didn’t convince Karen that their separately and together going through a myriad of emotional uncertainty when Lee spent more time breaking down his personal space and getting rid of old thought patterns while practicing dance routines with Bai and Guin, spending hours alone with them, would strengthen their friendship that existed outside of labels like “marriage,” “husband,” “wife,” “military” and other arbitrary symbols imposed upon them by a subculture that grew and changed with them.

Karen had to see it for herself.

Sometimes, you don’t ask permission and you don’t ask for forgiveness, either — you let your actions speak for themselves when you choose to go first, knowing you’ve got the best interests of people in your thoughts through-and-through, even though circumstances will change people’s perception over time, good or bad in the short-term.

Integrity speaks for itself, not beholden to the whimsical interpretations of morals by subcultures distracted toward flavour-of-the-month scandals — it was right to help one group of people who called themselves Syrians with as much conviction as their opponents — sometimes we compete with bullets, sometimes we compete with love, and sometimes we compete for the best-looking PE ratio reflecting strong quarterly earnings and a growing stock price, public opinion and newspaper tests a forgotten afterthought, telling the people there’s a higher chance their fortunes will increase, a rising tide helping all of them, if we do something rather than sit by and watch, doing nothing to support a country’s defenseless citizens crying for help.

What is a hug worth?

I almost started this blog entry with an apology to readers for delving too much into thoughts and not enough into actions lately but only because I’m looking at a set of stamps entitled “MUSCLE CARS: AMERICA ON THE MOVE,” which invites me to jump behind the steering wheel and burn rubber.

A song jumped into my thoughts this afternoon: “I Heard It On The Grapevine.”  What a doozy!

I have a business plan to complete tomorrow and a video to record later this week as my Kickstarter campaign nears its launch date.  Not sure which parts to include as part of a robot construction package.  Also, should I have a combined campaign or launch a separate project on PledgeMusic?

My mechatronic children are going to miss their new playmates, I can tell you — a desktop lamp has its shade pulled down in sadness, for instance.

But that’s okay.  Change is good.

With only 13401 days to go, I’ve got some significant fundraising to promote.

I can no longer sit on the fence and watch the world rush past me at this crossroads of life.

I admit that sitting here is scarier than taking action, action which takes up my energy and reduces me idle thoughts.

That’s okay, too.  Variety is good.

I can slip in and out of the colloquial without noticing.

What I’ll discover is the difference between a person who hugs politely, a person who hugs for comfort and a person who doesn’t hug at all.

Just like the fact that land wars are declared in order to test new technology and deplete the stock of old technology.

For whom are the lyrics of a song written?  What undertones and undercurrents are designed into the melody?

I know if I want the brass ring, it’s not going to jump into my hand, no matter how far outstretched it may be, then I better make the grab while I can.

The person who can jump in and tell the story with me the quickest — that’s what I’m talking about.

A true model citizen.

What are you looking for in the long run — a single person to be your one and only or a plethora, a cornucopia of tastes?

I hope to make everyone I meet a better person than before, whatever better may mean in the moment.

How many of us can keep putting ourselves out there and give and give and give without end?  How do we recycle energy to keep recharged?

What defines us?  Our vocation?  Our social network?  Our possessions?  Our family?

When you’re talking alone with someone, is your conversation any different than when someone else is in the room?

The years of chronic pain in the tensed muscles of my shoulders hunched over in anticipation of being beaten by my father are slowly dissipating.  I no longer have to fear his passive-aggressive love, never sure if a hug was coming or a smack in the face, physical and/or verbal.

Hugging someone without fear is a tremendous feeling.  So is dancing with someone without fear while letting my emotional state and set of thoughts rest in my fingertips, palms, forearm, biceps, shoulders, neck and back.

The passive-aggressive relationship with my father is partially tied into the relationship between my wife and me and it is damn hard work to overcome old habits tied to responding to passive-aggressive people as a chameleon personality.

Maybe I should summarise this blog in a single phrase: dancing is mental AND physical therapy.

Abi, as our dance instructor, is like my father — I’m never sure from moment to moment if she’s going to praise or criticize me.  Last night, when I saw a deep-seated fear briefly flash in Jenn’s eyes, I realised that the old fears of my father were showing on my face and in my reactions to Abi, and wanted to run as fast and as far away from the dance studio as my legs and lungs could take me but I was attached to Jenn, who herself seemed to have withdrawn a little.

It was a revealing moment for me, if not for her, showing me why dancing with her was so much different when only my wife was watching us than when Abi and my wife were watching.

Enough of thought set reconfiguration, although it is fun to write about what goes through my thoughts in these personally enlightening moments to complete the circle of the mental/physical therapy.

Time for action, assisting my wife, Abi and Jenn get whatever it is out of me, this humble set of states of energy, that makes them better than they were before, maybe even happier — some of our goals are aligned but not every single one of them, as it should be.  Hopefully, I’ll be better and happier, too.  I sure plan to be!

Breaking News!

In a few minutes, the U.S. President and other world leaders will release a joint statement.

We got an advance copy of the statement but can only paraphrase what they are about to say until they have actually spoken directly to their citizens.

In essence, governments around the world are finally admitting that the creation of the NSA and similar secret/covert government agencies is actually to the benefit of the citizens and is not, as has been widely reported, a negative “spying” program.

Instead, the governments have been secretly recording all the words and actions of its citizens in order to preserve their personalities (via their behaviour (see B.F. Skinner’s research for further explanation of behaviour-based personality traits)) for future generations.

Want to know why you are the way you are?

With the NSA and its peers opening its archives to the public, you can now see and hear everything about your parents, guardians, friends, acquaintances and world events associated with your conception, gestation, birth and formative years.

TRUST YOUR GOVERNMENT!  GOVERNMENT WORKERS CARE ABOUT YOUR WELL-BEING, MAKING SURE YOU HAVE ACCESS TO ANY INFORMATION ABOUT YOUR LIFE THAT YOU MIGHT FAIL TO REMEMBER AT THE WRONG TIME WITHOUT THEIR HELP!

And now you can create the perfect avatar of yourself, using the NSA database to construct a virtual personality profile of yourself at any age, even projected into the future!

Long live the information technology revolution!

Managing a species

Putting aside the proposition that the ridiculous concept of a species is an arbitrary label which makes no sense on planetary scales of billion-year timelines, let us look at the Management 101 viewpoint of coordinating the activities of our species.

You see, on one hand, we have a company named SAIC that has made many a millionaire in areas around towns like Washington, D.C, and Huntsville, Alabama.

Then, on the other hand, we have the SAIC-haters who see companies like SAIC that hire brilliant (and not-so-brilliant) engineers and scientists in the government intelligence welfare program to create, protect and defend government assets around the world.

That, in itself, is a whole lot of concepts through out there in a couple of paragraphs.

What separates the scientifically-minded people who work for companies like SAIC from the scientifically-minded people who think SAIC shouldn’t exist?

In the spectrum of seven-plus billion people on this planet, where do those two groups generally fall?

I am no purist.  I hope I am a realist who writes science fiction fantastic tales for a money-losing tax writeoff against my government’s desire to earn revenue from me.

I understand the need for a company like SAIC that would create titles such as “Program Manager for Lethality and Mortality,” a job position that requires a person to manage a missile design program which ensures the most number of deaths when dropped on the ‘enemy’ [the lethality part] and the least number of deaths when used as a shield from incoming missiles directed by the ‘enemy’ [the mortality part].

In a perfect world, we would all be friends helping each other out rather than playing boy-toy wargames and killing the peasants with our war toys for fun.

Or would we?

“Come on down!  You’re the next contestant in the ‘Price is Right’!”

Is it a gender issue?  Is SAIC the result of years of patriarchal leadership?  In other words, does testosterone mixed with adrenaline drive our culture to war, spying and government/corporate control?

Is there an alternative that completely replaces our species’ need for hierarchical control?

How many police officers see the world as a sea of perps?

How many peace lovers see the world as a sea of love surrounding a few desert islands of the misguided?

Does the concept of haves-vs-the havenots have anything to do with this?

What about a global consumer economy of “I want more, More, MORE!!!!”?

Say, I am a student of the STEM disciplines and I know that my education will lead me not only to a comfortable lifestyle but a lavish one?  Would I trade a career where I spend more time in pure research, long hours and low pay for a career where I spend more time in government-supported commercial development, fewer hours and high pay?

What are my motivations?  What of my socioeconomic background?  What of my general/public education, starting with my formative years?

Am I assertive, rebellious and outspoken?  Or am I introverted, a good follower who obeys orders/commands starting with the simplest “30 MPH when road is wet” sign?

What if you’re a combination of these traits?

What would a personality profile test tell you?

And what about those of us who will decide how to give you the best guidance for your life as you transition from your childhood years to your adult years, based on your desires, motivations, skills, training and personality traits?

See, we want both the SAIC millionaire employees and the anti-SAIC haters, regardless of their socioeconomic status.

We have room for you, whoever you are, and whatever you want, spooks and nonspooks alike.

The economic pie keeps growing, even if portions of it shrink sometimes, or seems to be made of unequal slice sizes.

Your input is valuable and helps us reshape the pie based on current trends.

Keep in mind that negativity and satire have a funny way of shaping the future.  What you complaint about and make fun of often (Orwell’s “1984,” for instance) causes your opposition to move further into the business of undiscoverable dark secrets, digging deeper trenches that are harder to cross and meet your opposition halfway.

Instead of berating the cybersecurity spy business, propose a future that takes all seven-plus billion of us into account, including the SAIC millionaires who don’t want their fortunes to disappear overnight a la Enron, GM, Lehman Brothers, etc.

We can work with a positive proposal much easier than negative protesting or scathing satire.  Those of us who want to change the world have to pass the newspaper test, go home to our children, live with our friends and seek happiness as much as you do.

Being in love and sexual tension will keep you awake at night, too.

It’s not just the bills you have to pay because you’re un/underemployed that cause sleeplessness.

There’s the age-old argument of structural-vs-cyclical unemployment that can dog your thoughts at all hours of the day and night.

There’s also the ache and pain of separation anxiety.

That, my friends, is my problem right now.

At least here in this fictional universe, it is.

Maybe in reality, too.

I’ll keep you posted.

Time for a nap!

Should government get out of the sciences?

The fact that I’m writing this and you’re reading this means we have voluntarily agreed to accept the fact that government-funded scientific research produces positive results in general socioeconomic terms.

Is there more to this story than meets the eye?

Should government get out of the sciences and leave everything to commerce/free enterprise?

You decide.

The illusion of employment

I often wondered, starting back in the days when I went door-to-door selling candles, fruit and raffle tickets for my junior high school trips and Scouting adventures, what is the concept of employment?

Should an 8-year old boy selling popcorn or a 10-year old girl selling cookies be considered a part-time employee?

Does sitting at a desk waiting for instructions from your boss constitute work when you’re surfing the Web or chatting via IM with friends/family in the interim?

What about when I mowed grass and trimmed bushes as a high school teenager?  What was my employment status versus the lawn service companies that have taken away a great summer job for the teenage boy or girl?

I exercise my thoughts every day, attempting and succeeding for the most part writing a short story or commenting on the news in a daily blog/journal/diary entry.  That is my “work,” my raison d’être, regardless of monetary compensation.

So, with that in mind, I present to you the following news article that purports to have its finger on the pulse of what “employment” means.