"Let go." It's somewhere between being fired and laid off. Doesn't matter too much, for thus are the words I heard at the end of my work day. The same manager that gave me an award for my Halloween costume earlier in the day, would then hand me a letter advising me that they were letting me go during my 'trail period.' The best reason I was given, which was cited in the letter, was that my behavior was not inline with the core values of the department. I suspect it has to do with me advising a few co-workers and others about legal options for discrimination and workers' compensation issues. That would put me out of line with state business, or specifically, my job. In Oregon, employers do not actually have to give you a specific reason to be fired, or, as they told me, "let go."
I also have to wonder about the whole cougar incident. See, at one point my manager offered to put in a cubicle quad with other "seasoned" workers. Unfortunately, they wanted to put me in the same quad as the cougar. I quietly declined, and I was asked as to why not. I said that one of the women in there had come onto me, and that I just wanted to avoid any potential situation. Well that ballooned into a subsequent interrogation a few days later with HR reps, and words like "sexual harassment" were being dropped. If I had said 'yes' to the sexual harassment, and played ball, maybe I'd still be employed. The cougar was on probation anyway and apparently had been cited for relationships within the workplace before. I kinda feel like a martyr. I don't know if she was fired or not.
Instead, being the new guy and vehemently interested in self-preservation, I said that it was no big deal, I didn't want to make an issue of it, and that there was nothing further on the matter. Sadly, hindsight is 20/20, and perhaps my foresight wasn't working. And she never really gave up on pursuing me, but at the same time, other women we starting to drop hints too. Not all that unexpected when the workforce is close to 80% women, many of whom are unmarried.
Now I have two things to accomplish; find a new job as soon as possible, and remind myself of all the things I didn't like about that job. Not too hard, since I really did like the training, but being confined to an 8 x8 foot cubicle everyday (I was in my own) was hard. I really felt like an animal in a zoo cage. Still, this was supposed to be my launching point into a better state job, even though a 9 month hiring freeze was taking effect Nov. 1 through June. Or in other words, I don't know if I would have made it anyway. But at least I would have tried.
Stress and depression are merely a stone throw away. The financial burden will bear down quickly, so I suppose I had best get looking through those classified ads. Wish me luck, meanwhile, I'll be playing 'manny' with my daughter. And that's not so bad, but it isn't what I should be doing.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Liberally Free
On Friday, one of my co-workers who is a union volunteer had the distinct privilege of going to a conference with Al Gore and getting something equivalent to a 'back-stage pass' after the conference. Needless to say that today she was still lost somewhere on cloud 9, wherever that is.
I take issue with lots of stuff, that's what primarily defines character, no? People who do not take a stand are typically boring as they don't know what to think, and never bother to look stuff up and thus remain in their awful state of ennui. Today I take issue with the term "liberal," as it clearly is a hypocritical title since it is applied to the wrong group of people.
The word is from Latin -- liberalis -- meaning; freedom, befitting of free, etc. Of course, it has a new meaning now: an entire political mindset that purports to be 'free', but in reality is readily waiting to enslave the masses into socialism or even better (I assume), communism. Looking at their agenda proves this; more taxes to pay for more government assistance. How does paying more taxes make you free? If anything, it makes you more dependent upon the hand that feeds.
Sure, universal healthcare is a neat idea -- no more haggling with HMO's over what is covered and at what cost [80% co-pays]. But will the quality of care increase? And what is the cost to the tax-payers as a whole? If I were a doctor, and all of a sudden I get the same flat rate, what would prompt me to give better care? If anything, I'd see more patient in less time. Sure, these are superficial arguments. Not to mention all the people out of work who were in the insurance industry.
I remember a saying, "[y]ou can take the man out of the slums, but you can't take the slums out of the man."In Spanish, they have a similar saying, "Aunque la mona se veste en ceda, la mona se queda." Or in other words, 'even though a monkey dresses in silk, it's still a monkey.' This is a truism that has been proven before. It's another reason why lottery winners often wind up broke and bankrupt. They didn't earn it, didn't know how to use it, and lost it all. That's one of the great things about earning your keep: you learn to respect what you've rightfully earned.
The main problem I have with Liberalism is they are way to eager to try and help people that, the whole point of accountability, responsibility, and basic self-respect are lost. I understand sometimes people need help, but people who need constant help do so because they know there is a perpetual obligation to help them. Instead of helping people up, it'll just keep everyone down on the same level without incentives to do better. Taxes will be 50% of your income, but at least we'll have universal health care, welfare programs, and Ben & Jerry's Ice cream made with real human milk. Damn you PETA, but I'll save that topic.
I've mentioned in other places, but the good ol' US of A is nearly a socialist country; we're just not taxed enough yet. But we have too many programs to pay for every year. That's why we're constantly over-budget and digging a deeper national dept. I know, I know, Bill Clinton balanced the budget years ago, and with a crippled military/nation defense because he drastically cut funding, that lead to a memorable September in 2001. Funny, Al Qeada had attacked the US at least 4 times prior to that during the Clinton years, and they never were punished for it. Til now. Whoops, side tanget.
So that is my marginal point today; despite the wrongfully named political mindset, how does being taxed 50% of your income make anyone free? You'll not be one lick happier with Liberals pushing for a socialistic approach to fix this country. You'll have less to be free with. And all your hard work will be for nothing save to pick up those that refuse to do so on their own. But at least our title will imply freedom; liberalis. Liberal US.
I take issue with lots of stuff, that's what primarily defines character, no? People who do not take a stand are typically boring as they don't know what to think, and never bother to look stuff up and thus remain in their awful state of ennui. Today I take issue with the term "liberal," as it clearly is a hypocritical title since it is applied to the wrong group of people.
The word is from Latin -- liberalis -- meaning; freedom, befitting of free, etc. Of course, it has a new meaning now: an entire political mindset that purports to be 'free', but in reality is readily waiting to enslave the masses into socialism or even better (I assume), communism. Looking at their agenda proves this; more taxes to pay for more government assistance. How does paying more taxes make you free? If anything, it makes you more dependent upon the hand that feeds.
Sure, universal healthcare is a neat idea -- no more haggling with HMO's over what is covered and at what cost [80% co-pays]. But will the quality of care increase? And what is the cost to the tax-payers as a whole? If I were a doctor, and all of a sudden I get the same flat rate, what would prompt me to give better care? If anything, I'd see more patient in less time. Sure, these are superficial arguments. Not to mention all the people out of work who were in the insurance industry.
I remember a saying, "[y]ou can take the man out of the slums, but you can't take the slums out of the man."In Spanish, they have a similar saying, "Aunque la mona se veste en ceda, la mona se queda." Or in other words, 'even though a monkey dresses in silk, it's still a monkey.' This is a truism that has been proven before. It's another reason why lottery winners often wind up broke and bankrupt. They didn't earn it, didn't know how to use it, and lost it all. That's one of the great things about earning your keep: you learn to respect what you've rightfully earned.
The main problem I have with Liberalism is they are way to eager to try and help people that, the whole point of accountability, responsibility, and basic self-respect are lost. I understand sometimes people need help, but people who need constant help do so because they know there is a perpetual obligation to help them. Instead of helping people up, it'll just keep everyone down on the same level without incentives to do better. Taxes will be 50% of your income, but at least we'll have universal health care, welfare programs, and Ben & Jerry's Ice cream made with real human milk. Damn you PETA, but I'll save that topic.
I've mentioned in other places, but the good ol' US of A is nearly a socialist country; we're just not taxed enough yet. But we have too many programs to pay for every year. That's why we're constantly over-budget and digging a deeper national dept. I know, I know, Bill Clinton balanced the budget years ago, and with a crippled military/nation defense because he drastically cut funding, that lead to a memorable September in 2001. Funny, Al Qeada had attacked the US at least 4 times prior to that during the Clinton years, and they never were punished for it. Til now. Whoops, side tanget.
So that is my marginal point today; despite the wrongfully named political mindset, how does being taxed 50% of your income make anyone free? You'll not be one lick happier with Liberals pushing for a socialistic approach to fix this country. You'll have less to be free with. And all your hard work will be for nothing save to pick up those that refuse to do so on their own. But at least our title will imply freedom; liberalis. Liberal US.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Mr Cloud, I presume.
Oddly, it happened again. The whole purpose for this blog to exist, mandated by one of those dreams that I do not cherish in the least. Interestingly, there is a parallel to a dream many moons ago, over 2 decades hence. The details from last night emerge.
I am either in the future, or in one of those modern homes that could double as an art gallery; svelte lines, uncomfortable furniture, and bold, yet blase color scheme (blacks, browns, bamboo flooring and white walls with large windows). High vaulted ceiling with exposed dark beams lumber overhead. There is a congregation of maybe a dozen people, none of whom I recognize, but I don't have any problems associating with them. Ages range from perhaps 10 years of age (a bored looking lad with a blond bowl cut hair), up to just over my age, a married couple of sorts. Intermingling with other people whom I don't pay enough attention to to describe, but they are round-about doing things. Probably being pretentious.
Sitting down at the table, the couple offer to show me a trick about this house. They place a cup face down on one end of the table, and it begins to gingerly scoot across the table, picking up speed until saved from falling off the edge by the husband. It is a neat trick, and I'm not sure how it's done. Then the boy does the same thing with a small car on the floor, it moves by itself. I inspect it, but it's just a simple car, no mechanics about it, not much to be magnetized. "This is not all," they inform me, " watch this," and then the boy, sitting Indian-style, is moved across the floor.
And then that feeling starts to ride up in me. The point when I perceive an evil in the room. It's not like looking at a biker-dude, with his shaved head, tattoos, scars and grimace that is natures way of saying "stay away," it's an inner conscious that tells you there is a foundation of evil that predates everything. A cold and bitter feeling the pervades your senses, and they know you're in the room with them, and they don't like it.
Again, this is a new detail to add into the otherwise normal equation that I typically face; it is daylight. All dreams regarding this topic have been in obscure or dark areas. But there is light outside. Not direct sunlight, but clearly bright enough to see outside to a distance.
People begin to levitate around me. They don't seem to care how, and they even enjoy it or so it appears. I tell the home owner that he really needs to consider having his home blessed. And I try to hold some people down by their ankles, but I can feel the power pushing them up. I fall back onto rebuking the entities in the name of Christ, and everytime I rebuke one, another ascends up. They just keep rotating around me; I get one down, another goes up, and then the one I rebuked earlier goes up again.
Now just about every one is high above me and then at once, they all drop with the force of gravity. Crunching sounds as bone contacts with hard flooring, and the people are pinned down screaming with these narrowly perceivable forms dog piling them, scratching and making weird grinding noises. I command all spirits to leave, and then it goes quiet. In retrospect, I should have done that in the first place instead of taking one on one.
The weird part is that these entities were not blamed. I was. I must have angered these "playful" spirits. I told them these were not to be trifled with, that they would eventually destroy whomever they could. But I was told not to fret over it. "We all have our personal demons we like to keep," and theirs were literal.
I don't remember what woke me up, but I was still thrawting these forms when I did wake up because I was still trembling and sweating. It's always odd waking up from these because you, literally, are afraid of the dark at that point. And I make it a habit not to look at the darkest points of my room, as I don't want to see the twisted, gnarly faces of evil staring back at me. Sure, I battle them in dreams, now more often than before and I am not sure why, but in reality, where I know they lurk, I have to maintain a barrier between the real and subliminal. Of course, I said a lengthy prayer right after waking up.
***
1984, or close to it, I had two concurrent dreams of the same nature. It was at my grandma's old farmhouse, a place that is always in my dreams, for better or worse. On this occasion, for worse.
Mr. Cloud was exactly that; a small cloud about 4 feet across and 2 feet high, with colorful streamers dangling down maybe three feet. He floated at about 5 feet elevation, drifting from one corner of the house, greeted much like that blissful happy face in the Walmart commercials -- everyone loves to see him as he 'rolls back prices'. I was ambivalant towards Mr. Cloud at best. Of course, that position changed drastically.
I was playing with armymen around the fireplace as Mr. Cloud hovered above me. With his streamers he signaled me to look up at the fireplace. As I did, I saw the face of my cousin being burned alive in the fireplace, flailing about in the flames. And not just one, but one after another. As soon as one was perished, another was tossed in.
I'd run and tell my parents, uncles, aunts and grandparents, but they'd defend Mr. Cloud vehemently. Then I'd ask where this or that cousin was, and I'd get a "probably up in the orchard" or "in the barn" but never the initiative to find them was taken. Not that it mattered, I knew where they really were. And everytime I went back, another would go in. Yet I couldn't leave, because I needed to see the evidence. Then I'd run back to my parents, and the cycle would continue.
Over the course of two nights this dream transpired. Mr. Cloud eliminated 6 cousins or so, and I got to see them all burn, yelling at the top of their lungs, rolling in the coals, but I was powerless to stop it. Kinda reminds me, in a way, of last night's dream and how people defend their personal demons. Not that I am blameless, by no means, but you can't be saved if you aren't willing to save yourself.
I'll get you Mr. Cloud...
I am either in the future, or in one of those modern homes that could double as an art gallery; svelte lines, uncomfortable furniture, and bold, yet blase color scheme (blacks, browns, bamboo flooring and white walls with large windows). High vaulted ceiling with exposed dark beams lumber overhead. There is a congregation of maybe a dozen people, none of whom I recognize, but I don't have any problems associating with them. Ages range from perhaps 10 years of age (a bored looking lad with a blond bowl cut hair), up to just over my age, a married couple of sorts. Intermingling with other people whom I don't pay enough attention to to describe, but they are round-about doing things. Probably being pretentious.
Sitting down at the table, the couple offer to show me a trick about this house. They place a cup face down on one end of the table, and it begins to gingerly scoot across the table, picking up speed until saved from falling off the edge by the husband. It is a neat trick, and I'm not sure how it's done. Then the boy does the same thing with a small car on the floor, it moves by itself. I inspect it, but it's just a simple car, no mechanics about it, not much to be magnetized. "This is not all," they inform me, " watch this," and then the boy, sitting Indian-style, is moved across the floor.
And then that feeling starts to ride up in me. The point when I perceive an evil in the room. It's not like looking at a biker-dude, with his shaved head, tattoos, scars and grimace that is natures way of saying "stay away," it's an inner conscious that tells you there is a foundation of evil that predates everything. A cold and bitter feeling the pervades your senses, and they know you're in the room with them, and they don't like it.
Again, this is a new detail to add into the otherwise normal equation that I typically face; it is daylight. All dreams regarding this topic have been in obscure or dark areas. But there is light outside. Not direct sunlight, but clearly bright enough to see outside to a distance.
People begin to levitate around me. They don't seem to care how, and they even enjoy it or so it appears. I tell the home owner that he really needs to consider having his home blessed. And I try to hold some people down by their ankles, but I can feel the power pushing them up. I fall back onto rebuking the entities in the name of Christ, and everytime I rebuke one, another ascends up. They just keep rotating around me; I get one down, another goes up, and then the one I rebuked earlier goes up again.
Now just about every one is high above me and then at once, they all drop with the force of gravity. Crunching sounds as bone contacts with hard flooring, and the people are pinned down screaming with these narrowly perceivable forms dog piling them, scratching and making weird grinding noises. I command all spirits to leave, and then it goes quiet. In retrospect, I should have done that in the first place instead of taking one on one.
The weird part is that these entities were not blamed. I was. I must have angered these "playful" spirits. I told them these were not to be trifled with, that they would eventually destroy whomever they could. But I was told not to fret over it. "We all have our personal demons we like to keep," and theirs were literal.
I don't remember what woke me up, but I was still thrawting these forms when I did wake up because I was still trembling and sweating. It's always odd waking up from these because you, literally, are afraid of the dark at that point. And I make it a habit not to look at the darkest points of my room, as I don't want to see the twisted, gnarly faces of evil staring back at me. Sure, I battle them in dreams, now more often than before and I am not sure why, but in reality, where I know they lurk, I have to maintain a barrier between the real and subliminal. Of course, I said a lengthy prayer right after waking up.
***
1984, or close to it, I had two concurrent dreams of the same nature. It was at my grandma's old farmhouse, a place that is always in my dreams, for better or worse. On this occasion, for worse.
Mr. Cloud was exactly that; a small cloud about 4 feet across and 2 feet high, with colorful streamers dangling down maybe three feet. He floated at about 5 feet elevation, drifting from one corner of the house, greeted much like that blissful happy face in the Walmart commercials -- everyone loves to see him as he 'rolls back prices'. I was ambivalant towards Mr. Cloud at best. Of course, that position changed drastically.
I was playing with armymen around the fireplace as Mr. Cloud hovered above me. With his streamers he signaled me to look up at the fireplace. As I did, I saw the face of my cousin being burned alive in the fireplace, flailing about in the flames. And not just one, but one after another. As soon as one was perished, another was tossed in.
I'd run and tell my parents, uncles, aunts and grandparents, but they'd defend Mr. Cloud vehemently. Then I'd ask where this or that cousin was, and I'd get a "probably up in the orchard" or "in the barn" but never the initiative to find them was taken. Not that it mattered, I knew where they really were. And everytime I went back, another would go in. Yet I couldn't leave, because I needed to see the evidence. Then I'd run back to my parents, and the cycle would continue.
Over the course of two nights this dream transpired. Mr. Cloud eliminated 6 cousins or so, and I got to see them all burn, yelling at the top of their lungs, rolling in the coals, but I was powerless to stop it. Kinda reminds me, in a way, of last night's dream and how people defend their personal demons. Not that I am blameless, by no means, but you can't be saved if you aren't willing to save yourself.
I'll get you Mr. Cloud...
Monday, October 13, 2008
Uncultural diversity
Today was mandatory cultural diversity competency day. Awesome.
I don't mind taking some training on cultural diversity. It certainly beats staring at a monitor everyday of the work week and watching myself go blind. Plus, I know the drill; accept everyone for everything and we'll all get a long just nicely. It's a pleasant way of censorship. If your culture supports eating other people, sobeit. If mutilating womens' reproductive organs is your bag? More power to you. If NAMBLA is your source of happiness, who am I to judge? The ACLU loves this kind of stuff.
Of course, for those of you that know me, I just don't fit that kind of mold. And to top it off, I start to get this antagonistic approach when forced to participate because I want to see how people react. I mean, these people aren't going to start "dialoguing" until provoked. That's a calling I can muster.
So we were separated into 4 "tribes", wherein we had to build our own cultures, traditions, greetings, power structure, and so on and so forth. I didn't want to be the leader because I needed someone else to take the heat for me. But, I quickly explained that we needed to build up our military because we could not trust these 3 other tribes around us. Instead, if we were to survive as a culture, we needed to pillage the other tribes, subjugate them to our wills, have them build up our empire so we could rule the world.
I then went into a history lesson about the Maori and Moriori tribes; islanders in the Pacific off New Zealand. Basically, the Maori were aggressive people, and the Moriori are a stark example of pacifism. Needless to say, the Moriori do not exist in the true sense of blood preservation, the last true Moriori having died in 1933. This, I stated, was why we needed to conquer these "other" tribes quickly and ruthlessly, lest the above history lesson becomes our current problem.
Well, it didn't go over as well as I had hoped. As a matter of fact, it was flatly rejected many times. And of the 40 people attending, about 10 were male, and in my group, that was 3 out of 10. So, I informed the ladies that it would probably be a necessity - for self preservation - that we institute polygamy. Somehow that didn't fly very well either, and as a matter of fact, some even suggested exiling the males altogther, to which I responded that it would be foolish to make another Isle of Lesbos, all things considered. Silence.
We were given some things to incorporate into our tribe; a deck of cards, some Costa Rican belt thing, a toy C3PO from Star Wars (his eyes lit up when manipulated), some red paper stars, a Disney toy car and that may have been it. I suggested that we make the chrome C3PO our loathing irrational false God of war and destruction. Any tribe that rejected this would be dealt with harshly. Again, perfectly good idea passed over. However, I did get the tribe to agree upon our greeting, which was an animated, "Hey-Yo!" And I sorted out the deck of cards as a form of currency.
Unfortunately, our physical form of greeting was touching fingers a la ET, and we had a revolving leadership which was exchanged via calls of "Marco" and the new leader responding in the obvious "Polo". When asked why, I told them that the famous Italian traveler discovered our greet society. The red paper cards were our form of friendship which we gave (or not) to the other tribes.
The mingling with other tribes was weird. One incorporated the chicken dance, which reminded me that perhaps we should have more seriously considered cannibalism, and that perhaps this tribe tasted like chicken -- there was no way to know without trying... However, for the most part every single tribe was a fun-loving quasi-hippy commune. If given the opportunity, I could have conquered them all single-handedly.
The interesting part, as I knew would come, was the airing of grievances after it was all over. Not surprisingly, I got put on the spot a few times. As a matter of fact, I think my tribe did almost all the talking, while I was busy defending. Naturally, I had history on my side and I based it under a historical social experience, while everyone else was busy trying to "co-exist". People had some issues with the Isle of Lesbos comment, but I explained it wasn't necessarily a reference to lesbians (although that's where the word comes from), but that it was an island exclusive to women, just as my tribe had suggested. The beauty of this is that the instructor took my side and stated that I was obviously "offended" with being excluded and made a natural "knee-jerk" reaction from being rejected. Why, yes, that's exactly it... even better, he had the class thank me collectively for bringing that issue up. This is great!
Interestingly, the British guy there, with classic British stereotypical teeth, was also offended by one of my comments about being an "Indian giver" for being "way off the reservation." Yeah, I got in two comments. Funny thing, someone else defended my statement in that it actually means giving to the Indians, and then taking it back. Not the other way around.
I should be honest in that as soon as the instructor stated he was from Costa Rica, I knew I couldn't do any evil. During the morning I let slip some slang that only a Costa Rican (or "tico") would get, and that prompted him to ask me questions which led to an immediate connection between us two.
I will say that he was an excellent instructor and I had a lot of fun, even if I was deliberately stirring the melting pot. Here's my position on the whole matter -- accept the culture of the country you live in. Do not expect the inhabitants to joyfully embrace yours if you live in their society. In my opinion, cultural diversity is a dividing wedge in society. It singles you out and quickly labels you as different and thus causes strife. Sure, we need to be accepting of other cultures, especially when in the midst of them, but don't expect me to accept it when you are parading down the streets of my nation, demanding citizenship, waving your national flag over mine. You left that country for a reason, now embrace the culture of your future.
Unfortunately, there are so many facets to this, that I don't want to bore you all (14) with my perceptions. But, I would like to say I did have a good time today. And not much was brought up that I had not already considered, that is, being the considerate folk that I am. In the end, magically, no one was offended about anything. We were all pacified like peaceful Moriori tribesmen. Meanwhile, I sharpened my weapons of war...
***Side tangent: Since I somewhat mentioned this, I'll just add that any one who gives you the argument that we should give back to Mexico the states we "stole", let's look at a little bit of history. Who originally owned Mexico? The Aztecs until 1520, then Spain owned it until 1821, then it belong to the country of Mexico, then the US fought for it in 1844-46. Break-down; Aztecs owned it for thousands of years, Spanish owned it for hundreds of years, Mexico owned it for 2 decades, and the US has ever since. I don't hear the Aztecs or Spanish asking for it back, and in my opinion, they certainly should be ahead of the line for it.
I don't mind taking some training on cultural diversity. It certainly beats staring at a monitor everyday of the work week and watching myself go blind. Plus, I know the drill; accept everyone for everything and we'll all get a long just nicely. It's a pleasant way of censorship. If your culture supports eating other people, sobeit. If mutilating womens' reproductive organs is your bag? More power to you. If NAMBLA is your source of happiness, who am I to judge? The ACLU loves this kind of stuff.
Of course, for those of you that know me, I just don't fit that kind of mold. And to top it off, I start to get this antagonistic approach when forced to participate because I want to see how people react. I mean, these people aren't going to start "dialoguing" until provoked. That's a calling I can muster.
So we were separated into 4 "tribes", wherein we had to build our own cultures, traditions, greetings, power structure, and so on and so forth. I didn't want to be the leader because I needed someone else to take the heat for me. But, I quickly explained that we needed to build up our military because we could not trust these 3 other tribes around us. Instead, if we were to survive as a culture, we needed to pillage the other tribes, subjugate them to our wills, have them build up our empire so we could rule the world.
I then went into a history lesson about the Maori and Moriori tribes; islanders in the Pacific off New Zealand. Basically, the Maori were aggressive people, and the Moriori are a stark example of pacifism. Needless to say, the Moriori do not exist in the true sense of blood preservation, the last true Moriori having died in 1933. This, I stated, was why we needed to conquer these "other" tribes quickly and ruthlessly, lest the above history lesson becomes our current problem.
Well, it didn't go over as well as I had hoped. As a matter of fact, it was flatly rejected many times. And of the 40 people attending, about 10 were male, and in my group, that was 3 out of 10. So, I informed the ladies that it would probably be a necessity - for self preservation - that we institute polygamy. Somehow that didn't fly very well either, and as a matter of fact, some even suggested exiling the males altogther, to which I responded that it would be foolish to make another Isle of Lesbos, all things considered. Silence.
We were given some things to incorporate into our tribe; a deck of cards, some Costa Rican belt thing, a toy C3PO from Star Wars (his eyes lit up when manipulated), some red paper stars, a Disney toy car and that may have been it. I suggested that we make the chrome C3PO our loathing irrational false God of war and destruction. Any tribe that rejected this would be dealt with harshly. Again, perfectly good idea passed over. However, I did get the tribe to agree upon our greeting, which was an animated, "Hey-Yo!" And I sorted out the deck of cards as a form of currency.
Unfortunately, our physical form of greeting was touching fingers a la ET, and we had a revolving leadership which was exchanged via calls of "Marco" and the new leader responding in the obvious "Polo". When asked why, I told them that the famous Italian traveler discovered our greet society. The red paper cards were our form of friendship which we gave (or not) to the other tribes.
The mingling with other tribes was weird. One incorporated the chicken dance, which reminded me that perhaps we should have more seriously considered cannibalism, and that perhaps this tribe tasted like chicken -- there was no way to know without trying... However, for the most part every single tribe was a fun-loving quasi-hippy commune. If given the opportunity, I could have conquered them all single-handedly.
The interesting part, as I knew would come, was the airing of grievances after it was all over. Not surprisingly, I got put on the spot a few times. As a matter of fact, I think my tribe did almost all the talking, while I was busy defending. Naturally, I had history on my side and I based it under a historical social experience, while everyone else was busy trying to "co-exist". People had some issues with the Isle of Lesbos comment, but I explained it wasn't necessarily a reference to lesbians (although that's where the word comes from), but that it was an island exclusive to women, just as my tribe had suggested. The beauty of this is that the instructor took my side and stated that I was obviously "offended" with being excluded and made a natural "knee-jerk" reaction from being rejected. Why, yes, that's exactly it... even better, he had the class thank me collectively for bringing that issue up. This is great!
Interestingly, the British guy there, with classic British stereotypical teeth, was also offended by one of my comments about being an "Indian giver" for being "way off the reservation." Yeah, I got in two comments. Funny thing, someone else defended my statement in that it actually means giving to the Indians, and then taking it back. Not the other way around.
I should be honest in that as soon as the instructor stated he was from Costa Rica, I knew I couldn't do any evil. During the morning I let slip some slang that only a Costa Rican (or "tico") would get, and that prompted him to ask me questions which led to an immediate connection between us two.
I will say that he was an excellent instructor and I had a lot of fun, even if I was deliberately stirring the melting pot. Here's my position on the whole matter -- accept the culture of the country you live in. Do not expect the inhabitants to joyfully embrace yours if you live in their society. In my opinion, cultural diversity is a dividing wedge in society. It singles you out and quickly labels you as different and thus causes strife. Sure, we need to be accepting of other cultures, especially when in the midst of them, but don't expect me to accept it when you are parading down the streets of my nation, demanding citizenship, waving your national flag over mine. You left that country for a reason, now embrace the culture of your future.
Unfortunately, there are so many facets to this, that I don't want to bore you all (14) with my perceptions. But, I would like to say I did have a good time today. And not much was brought up that I had not already considered, that is, being the considerate folk that I am. In the end, magically, no one was offended about anything. We were all pacified like peaceful Moriori tribesmen. Meanwhile, I sharpened my weapons of war...
***Side tangent: Since I somewhat mentioned this, I'll just add that any one who gives you the argument that we should give back to Mexico the states we "stole", let's look at a little bit of history. Who originally owned Mexico? The Aztecs until 1520, then Spain owned it until 1821, then it belong to the country of Mexico, then the US fought for it in 1844-46. Break-down; Aztecs owned it for thousands of years, Spanish owned it for hundreds of years, Mexico owned it for 2 decades, and the US has ever since. I don't hear the Aztecs or Spanish asking for it back, and in my opinion, they certainly should be ahead of the line for it.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Pooring Over It
I just finished reading a book called Nickel and Dimed; blah, blah, blah. It's written by Debra I'm-a-liberal-feminist-and-refuse-my-husband's last-name Ehrenreich. Someone's gotta keep 'the man' down. Of course, this is a New York Times best seller, like so many other misanthropic, cynical, atheistic, narcissistic, sardonic, pessimistic books out there.
Thankfully, in this book, the PhD educated author goes undercover to live amongst the poor and to be 'poor'. Now, being someone that has been on the poor side, I'll tell you right now she comes off a little haughty every now-and-then. Take this quote from page 8:
"To state the proposition in reverse, low-wage workers are no more homogeneous in personality or ability than people who write for a living, and no less likely to be funny or bright. Anyone in the educated classes who thinks otherwise ought to broaden their circle of friends."
Oh, so you mean low-wage workers are normal people too? Well, at least she figured that out at age 50. There are a few other times as well. Mostly the book comes off as seemingly negative, by my jaded review at least. It isn't until the last 20 pages that the book becomes decent, spitting out statistics here and there, and then the capstone - poor people will undoubtedly remain poor. Well, despite whatever truism there may be in that, things will certainly get worse considering the global market at this point. But, I've covered that before.
I've learned some things in my medium-aged tenure here on ol' blue-n-green. And it does have to do with being poor or not. It doesn't matter so much whether you are smart or not as to whether you will succeed. And in this case, success means not being within the reach of poverty. But I've seen smart people who are poor. No, smart, dumb, tall, short, fat, thin, poverty gets `em all. Except those with ambition and determination. In my opinion, this is the major reason why lots of people break from being poor. Reject the mentality.
Look at Les Schwab, the high school drop-out from Prineville who recently died on top of a $350 million dollar mountain. He once gave a speech at Prineville High to the graduating class of 1997. He openly criticized getting a high school diploma, because, "I didn't need one..." and obviously he was correct. But he did have ambition and determination to succeed. And thus he did. His name will forever be associated with tires and free beef in February.
Now this is not a call to drop out. Statistically speaking, you're welfare bound if you do. The military won't accept you now, even if you have a "Good Enough Degree" in lieu of a diploma. Still, my resounding point being that his author never gave herself an opportunity to succeed in the book. Most jobs she took lasted less than a month, none over 2 months.
She did cite definitive inequalities within some jobs, but also sided that without this, labor would be too expensive and may negatively impact everyone. She ends with saying that there may be anger and strikes, but we will all be better off in the end when there is equality. Probably a vieled call for socialism or communism. I am sure the 13 million illegal immigrants didn't help move this in the right direction (the fundamentals of this book taking place cica 2000, prior to the massive influx of "undocumented workers").
Anyway, back to education, at least with a diploma from high school, or better, you can make the first important steps off getting out of poverty. And let's face it, secondary education favors the poor with regards to funding. It still isn't a guarranty that you will succeed, but it certainly looks good on paper.
Putting aside this jumbled topic, I've since moved on to reading C.S. Lewis stuff. I find it more enlightening on many levels. I'll probably revisit this topic of poverty once I've mulled over the details a little longer. It still urks me, and probably because I've been there, and now I'm here, and I plan to go elsewhere. Or as I've heard before, "To the moon, Alice!" Maybe that's too far...
Thankfully, in this book, the PhD educated author goes undercover to live amongst the poor and to be 'poor'. Now, being someone that has been on the poor side, I'll tell you right now she comes off a little haughty every now-and-then. Take this quote from page 8:
"To state the proposition in reverse, low-wage workers are no more homogeneous in personality or ability than people who write for a living, and no less likely to be funny or bright. Anyone in the educated classes who thinks otherwise ought to broaden their circle of friends."
Oh, so you mean low-wage workers are normal people too? Well, at least she figured that out at age 50. There are a few other times as well. Mostly the book comes off as seemingly negative, by my jaded review at least. It isn't until the last 20 pages that the book becomes decent, spitting out statistics here and there, and then the capstone - poor people will undoubtedly remain poor. Well, despite whatever truism there may be in that, things will certainly get worse considering the global market at this point. But, I've covered that before.
I've learned some things in my medium-aged tenure here on ol' blue-n-green. And it does have to do with being poor or not. It doesn't matter so much whether you are smart or not as to whether you will succeed. And in this case, success means not being within the reach of poverty. But I've seen smart people who are poor. No, smart, dumb, tall, short, fat, thin, poverty gets `em all. Except those with ambition and determination. In my opinion, this is the major reason why lots of people break from being poor. Reject the mentality.
Look at Les Schwab, the high school drop-out from Prineville who recently died on top of a $350 million dollar mountain. He once gave a speech at Prineville High to the graduating class of 1997. He openly criticized getting a high school diploma, because, "I didn't need one..." and obviously he was correct. But he did have ambition and determination to succeed. And thus he did. His name will forever be associated with tires and free beef in February.
Now this is not a call to drop out. Statistically speaking, you're welfare bound if you do. The military won't accept you now, even if you have a "Good Enough Degree" in lieu of a diploma. Still, my resounding point being that his author never gave herself an opportunity to succeed in the book. Most jobs she took lasted less than a month, none over 2 months.
She did cite definitive inequalities within some jobs, but also sided that without this, labor would be too expensive and may negatively impact everyone. She ends with saying that there may be anger and strikes, but we will all be better off in the end when there is equality. Probably a vieled call for socialism or communism. I am sure the 13 million illegal immigrants didn't help move this in the right direction (the fundamentals of this book taking place cica 2000, prior to the massive influx of "undocumented workers").
Anyway, back to education, at least with a diploma from high school, or better, you can make the first important steps off getting out of poverty. And let's face it, secondary education favors the poor with regards to funding. It still isn't a guarranty that you will succeed, but it certainly looks good on paper.
Putting aside this jumbled topic, I've since moved on to reading C.S. Lewis stuff. I find it more enlightening on many levels. I'll probably revisit this topic of poverty once I've mulled over the details a little longer. It still urks me, and probably because I've been there, and now I'm here, and I plan to go elsewhere. Or as I've heard before, "To the moon, Alice!" Maybe that's too far...
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