Tag Archives: opinion

The Boiling Pot of Society

It seems that as a country, we are at a crossroads of choice. One between what we are told is right and what we believe is right. I have never been one to do what I’m told, always choosing my own path even if it turns out wrong. Ask my Mom, she will sadly confirm. However, even the wrong paths were my choosing and I accepted the results of my choice, good or bad. You shouldn’t seek solace from others for making wrong choices, but own your decisions and face your results head on.

Lately, everyone is on edge because we are being told how to think and act. Its wrong to disagree with a person’s lifestyle or what flag they choose to display. People are owed things for the wrongs of the past. It is ok to lash out if you feel you have been wronged. Its acceptable to attack anyone who disagrees with your views, and you are free to accuse them of some injustice if they dare to speak against you.

We are being told these things daily, in the smallest ways. These waters have been on a slow boil for decades but now the pot is bubbling. If the heat isn’t turned down it will soon boil over. Hot, scalding water pouring forth harming everyone who tries to stop it and you are forced to let it runs its course unless you also get burned.

The question is, who is the pot and who is the water.

News flash to the uninformed. Opinions are not illegal. No one owes anyone anything. The only person holding you back from achieving greatness is yourself. If you break the law, you should face consequences when you get caught. If you choose to stomp on a flag in my presence then that is your choice and you must face the consequences. As it is my choice to be the consequence by punching you in the face, then I will face my own consequences. The reason things are getting out of hand is because we are being convinced that our thinking is wrong. How can thinking be wrong? I personally could care less who agrees or disagrees with my opinion. They are my thoughts. I own them. In my head they do not hurt anyone else, should I choose to free them from constraint then now I, and only I am responsible for them. The part that is hard or me to understand is why do people have to choose. Why is it always this side or that? It seems more and more the lines that divide are chosen by people with varied interests. The ground-pounders that are truly affected by these divisible lines are not the ones with the chalk. Everyone, on both sides are watching hands draw the lines that divide us, then they sit back and reap rewards from the ensuing chaos. The ones that divide want division! Unity is the antithesis of all those in power cherish. Lack of unity promotes tension, tension promotes chaos, chaos promotes wealth. Many people are slowly waking up and understanding that fact.

Soon the pot will boil over.

Will you be unafraid to get burned, will you be the boiling water, or will you wait to clean up the mess afterwards?
Move


Smoking Kills

Something struck me today. It was a rock. It didn’t hurt. Then I thought of something that had nothing to do with the rock.

This is 2015 and we are still wasting money telling people not to smoke cigarettes!

Shocking I know. Now mind you, I am a smoker. I smoke the good ones, the one’s that most people call Cowboy Killers. Red and white packaging like the lung and spittle I cough up before bed. No, I was wrong, that junk looks more like an el grandé super caramel latté with a barista swirl. Except thick and chunky. And it stays warm longer.

Hungry yet? Continue reading


Sticks, Stones, and Symbols

Sit back, grab a whiskey, and enjoy my rant.

I have long lived by a nursery rhyme I learned as a kid. Most people know it, perhaps not children these days, but the current “adults” of the world have at least heard it.

“Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Continue reading


Thank you for holding. My customers are important to me

   Over one and a half hours of grueling torment of “I am important to you” messages and the nauseating loop of Muzak I was ready to snap. I found myself glaring at the phone, daggers erupting from my eyes, tunneling through hundreds of miles of fiber optic cable to find a human on the other end, any poor wretched soul who was unlucky enough to be the target of my Tomahawk missile of righteous fury. Continue reading


Reminders of Respect

Oh how I dreaded the days of corporal punishment in school. Every teacher had a paddle and none were afraid to use it on unruly children. Some teachers painted their wooden torture instruments red. I always assumed this was to hide any evidence of blood from the legendary paddlings that everyone knew and feared. A few teachers would display their paddles, more akin to a boat oar than anything else, as a warning to be on your best behavior. The teachers that everyone feared the most were the few that named their paddles. Dreadful names like “Punisher” and “Equilizer” emblazoned in bright letters, carved lovingly into the handles were whispered to younger kids on the playground. Of course every school also has the one teacher that is rumored to be the spawn of twelve demons, for why other than sadistic joy would an educator drill holes into the paddle! Increasing the air flow to allow maximum velocity as it strikes your rear, increasing the agony tremendously. Continue reading


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