Posts Tagged ‘moral

20
Jul
18

Cherish Your Anonymity

*****

With so many suffering heavy punishment for speaking their minds via modern technology, it’s ever more vital we who do not “tweet” with our actual names spelled out on a glowing screen applaud and celebrate our “anonymity.”  We cowardly souls who bravely don costumes and vent as we feel fit when technology works with us; we should be comforted and celebrated.

It seems like every day in the news someone is getting grilled for something “offensive.”  We have squads of LGBT and feminism police officers, hordes of body-celebrating (instead of shaming) and various other armies going to war with the most sensitive of mining equipment capable of picking up the slightest blip of questionable commentary, increasingly adjusting the high standard of moral conduct until everyone who isn’t a violated woman or LGBT-type person will be guilty of offense and thereby open to verbal, mental and physical assault by the so-called victims.  So far, we without publicized names have been safe of retaliation.

I can’t speak for every offense case, but I would not be surprised if some offenses deemed fit for court or the loss of a job turned out to be misinterpreted.  After all, kids on a playground can cry wolf and have a teacher call a parent simply because the tattle-tale had a sweet face or stronger voice than the supposed offender.  And, who is to say some of these offensive voiced bits aren’t said at times when the speakers are not in the best of moods or right minds?  I know I don’t subscribe to alcohol or recreational drugs.  But, others do.  And, just because shit comes out of one’s mouth three years ago on a bad day does not mean that person is anti-gay or a chauvinistic maniac.

And, what if someone is a tad gay-phobic or unclear on the nature of that lifestyle?  Is every inappropriate remark worthy of jail time or a giant fine?  Are we catering to lawyers so they can put their hideous faces and names on every item advertised on local TV?  I don’t want to see so many lawyer ads.  I don’t want those people thinking they run the place just because they are getting old and think investing in a little advertising everywhere makes them immortal.  You TV lawyers have really become annoying!  And, I will not likely support you or any cause/company with your name on it because you are (annoying).

But, I’m getting off-subject, now.  Ehem.

You really have to mind your words and be sure you don’t touch another living soul lest you be accused of inappropriately fondling someone.  A pat on the back could be deemed the grabbing of a breast (on your back, apparently).  A sociable kiss on the cheek might be viewed as unwanted intimacy of the worst kind unless you can certify you are from a nation that does this socially as a part of their native culture.  Parents who kiss their kids on the lips?  You’re likely next on the chopping block.

One wonders if “social media” isn’t a mousetrap.  It lures people out of hiding to voice every little thing to come into their tiny brains…only to get them in trouble?  Snap!  You’re dead and out with the banana peels you slipped on coming in here.

But, I suppose, being anonymous DOES have it’s setbacks.  I mean, people are less trusting of random or fake names…unless you learn to share a sense of creativity and/or humor and can spell correctly (which so many cannot).  [Stop trying to speak English if you cannot use a dictionary.  I don’t use Spanish words I don’t know how to spell.]  You can’t really be a shopkeeper with a fake name, can you?…unless it’s a brand name.  But, even then, you have to be accountable for that shop with a real name/some form of ID.   People who use their real names seem to be taken more seriously because they seem fearless and, well, real, genuine.

[Yet, in this shady world of face-less interaction–unless you use some service like Skype which seems already forgotten these days–how do you determine a real face you see is that person’s real face?  And, how many “faceless” internet users stalk those “real” people, taking advantage of the exposed while remaining randomly generated user names, often with long barcode-like numbers attached, giving me the impression they are “bots” or some call center staff members in a building dominated by Middle-Eastern folks by the dozens?]

It seems astounding that more celebrities don’t use fake online names/accounts.  But, maybe they do, and all we know are the ones we hear about in the news when some mosquito with a microphone or phone-camera is stalking these people.

Once upon a time, people kept personal thoughts on parchment scrolls they had to carry with them wherever they went.  If anyone else read them, it was because the author read, lost or donated the scrolls.  Many years later, people kept notebook-style journals, especially teenage girls, who would lament brothers and parents violating their privacy.  Now, we have computers of various capacities and sizes.  And, instead of a PC journal like the one Doogie Howser, M.D. kept, so many turn to blogs and these accursed “tweeting” type accounts, putting everything “out there” for the world to see and LIKE and shallowly evaluate from afar…from anonymous spaces.

In short, those of you who have not put your real selves out for all to see, ye who do not YouTube your boob lube and hash-tag your new ‘do rag and personal mag’ (magazine), blippity blobbity blah!….  My blood pressure spiked just then and tangled my tongue-fingers.  Or, is it my finger-tongue?  Anyway.  Those of you, like me, who create unique identities for themselves online for whatever reason, embrace and applaud your anonymity, today.  And, count your blessings.  Because you could be somewhere down the list of those moral-criminal-hunting Elmer Fudds and receive severe punishment for the slightest misunderstanding or careless outburst on your worst day.  But, for now, you’re Joe Cool and free to be loose with those journalistic lips.

[We should start a holiday.  But, no one seems to follow me on those thoughts any better than I follow others.  So, I guess I’m limited to suggesting and waiting for some trendsetter to print up all the hoopla and manufacture all the swag.]

Happy Anonymity Day(s)!

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06
Feb
17

My Response to “Teen in Ogden, Utah” (Dear Abby)

*****

You can find my response to this and other letters, now available for your viewing and opinion, on the designated page

But, while you’re here, have a read.

“Teen” is fifteen years old and entering a Crusade, a religion-fueled war, with his divided parents. How the parents even managed to get married and have a kid is a mystery, considering one believes in God and the other sounds like an atheist. What is not a mystery is why “Teen” is distancing himself from the parents and feeling uncomfortable when church-related topics arise.

I might have left this one alone had I not been bothered by Abby’s last “sage advice” from a “wise clergyman.”

———

The opposite of faith is certainty? What is that supposed to mean, Abby? And, what do you expect this young man to do with that? I’d expect him to emulate his father. I do not think such “wise” words would inspire him to remain true to any religion/faith.

“Teen,” there is only one thing I am certain of: you will learn a great deal about how impulses of your parents dwell inside you in the coming years if not decades. And, you will do battle with those facets until you can rest assured in your choices. Knowing this, you can either accept the stress you feel as part of the life you’ve been given or seek out activities and groups that relieve this stress. Hopefully, ones that don’t involve “recreational drugs” and/or violence other than martial arts practice. A club or class/group that eases your mind will be far less costly than a therapist and could result in making some valuable connections.

If I may ask a few questions…

Exactly how does your belief in God vary so greatly from your mother’s that there is this problem? And, why does it seem like your non-believing father has no interest in involving himself in this struggle of yours? I picture him hiding his face behind a newspaper or cellphone while your mother “encourages” you to participate in a religious community. Apparently, you have no concern for hurting HIS feelings because he has offered none; he simply lets you do what you like until it affects his wallet or some other non-religious aspect of his life. [Or, is it possible your parents are on the verge of divorce and you simply opt to support your mother while opposing your father? Is it possible your mother married your father with aspirations of changing his ways and making him a part of her chosen faith?]

I may be off-base. But, I hear these other voices in response to your comments.

You say: It’s really uncomfortable when people ask why I haven’t been in church.
I hear/think: Church bothers me because it’s too formal. [Or maybe] Church bothers me because I’m asked to give money. [Or] Church bothers me because it interferes with my free/fun time. [Or] Church bothers me because my parents don’t go there together; it does not hold us together as a family.

You say: Mom signs me up for church activities, and I don’t like going.
I hear/think: I struggle with socializing/participating. [Or] I’m anti-social. [Or] I suffer from social anxiety.

Abby suggests telling your mother how much you love her and hope she will continue loving you as you explore your life/religious options. I would guess none of that sounds easy or comfortable for you. Am I right?

If I was you, I’d have a hard time saying I love my mother, too. At your age, I was entering a similar battle and just starting to distance myself from my parents who seemed unable to respect my decisions and even my personal space. Pressure to change one’s ways or attend certain activities could be a sign of lacking trust in you to make your own decisions and come to your parents for advice when you need it.

I cannot tell you which faith is right or wrong. But, if you can better understand or see what motivates the feelings you have, you can answer your own questions. If your mother is so bent on getting you involved in the activities of her church community, hurting her feelings may be inevitable. Yet, if her faith and love for you is strong, she will recover from the bruises. [Just don’t cut ties with her completely unless that is what you truly want. What you want today may differ from what you decide to have in your life years from now.]

15
Sep
14

As If They Were Nothing

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My parents saved so many pieces of their growing past and oodles of things they thought might be worth more someday: their first set of kitchen furniture, tea sets, light fixtures, quilts, suits and figurines of all sorts. But, the things I valued the most they threw away as if the former were nothing.

Trust. Love. Acceptance. Patience. Empathy. Talent. Effort. Friendship. Teamwork. To name a few.

‘Leaves you feeling all warm and tingly inside; doesn’t it?

28
Jul
14

The Art of Excess

 

On a milestone birthday in the depths of space, a budding artist (with a face full of bubbling, molten craters) opened her eyes and marveled at the new tools provided by her parents. The intense, singeing light of her father and the softer, enchanting glow of her mother came together to wish their daughter well in pursuit of happy growth and enhancement. Vowing to make them proud, the young orb took a deep breath and went to work.

Her early efforts produced a multitude of lifeforms both stationary and mobile. The former consistently worshipped her parents while the latter were free to experiment, giving all who watched a source of amusement. Father and mother were indeed pleased. Their smiles burst with a brilliant energy which could be seen from galaxies away.
“Go on, my child!” said the father. “Create more! It gives your mother and I such joy to see you paint your surface with these colors! One day you shall be the crown jewel of our domain!”

So, the child continued to create and age. But, every now and then, her father and mother would drift apart, leaving her in the cold of deep space to wonder if what she created was still worthy of praise. In a fit of sadness and frustration, she struck herself with a large rock, hoping to free some promising ideas from her already cracked skull. Instead, it erased her vision temporarily, wiping a large portion of the art from her surface. When her parents returned, a new motif had taken over their daughter.

“What’s this?!” gasped the father. “Such a drastic change! What has made you tear down what you already made and replace it with something new?!”

“Father, each time I turned around, you and Mother left me alone,” said the young artist with a sigh. “I did not feel your warmth at my back. I thought you no longer approved of my work.”

“Look how they behave differently when I draw closer in your father’s absence,” said Mother with her cheeks aglow as she separated from her mate. “You honor us with your talents, daughter. Go on. Continue creating. You are just beginning to grow.”

Despite her concern and flickering confidence, the artist did as she was told. Nothing she made gave her the joy she had seen in her parents’ faces. Again and again, she changed her canvas while expending her vital energy (which, at the time of her youth, seemed infinite), each time hoping the next visit of her parents would be happier than the last.

When they did return for her birthday, she had yet another surprise waiting for them. Gazing upon the new creation, Father blew flames to the far reaches of space and withdrew. His color paled from an ardent red-orange to a weaker yellow. “What in the great cosmos are those?! And, what are they doing to each other?!”

Tilting her head ever so slightly, his daughter said, “I have not decided what to call them, yet, as they keep changing on me. I am leaning toward naming them Humanity. What do you think, Mother?”

Though her mate was dismayed, mildly cross and tempted to scorch the young artist’s hide, Mother, impressed with the new lifeforms (which could adapt themselves more readily than any other), showed enthusiasm. “They are certainly unique and interactive.” She paused to look away when one fierce band of the fleshy rebels destroyed another, leaving a gruesome stain on the daughter’s cheek. Refraining from preaching about cleanliness, Mother added, “Keep at it, my child. But, do not be so hasty to destroy what you have made. Let it mature with you. You continue to grow in wisdom though experience. Some day, you will shine as bright as your mother or–maybe–your father.”

With those encouraging words, the still youthful artist returned to her labors, working with her latest creation to “enhance” her appearance. [Meanwhile, her parents ventured off in mounting disagreement.] As the years rolled by, the ever-mutable clay of “Humanity” grew in quantity and violence, gradually wiping away portions of her previous work. Just when it seemed like the restless, pale and balding creatures might destroy themselves and everything remaining with them, a new crop would appear to start a revolution. But, the lifeless remnants of the previous batch never seemed to fully disappear. The cosmic strength to absorb injury and clear away the messes made diminished. Eventually, after several expansive conflicts, the bewildering competition amassed heaps of debris on the heavenly creator’s face.

At the dawn of her next birthday, her parents displayed looks of horror. Lakes of toxic sludge and smoking mountains of heavy filth nearly covered every inch of their daughter’s skin. They could barely see her worrisome expression and hear her trailing voice as she pleaded, “Father! Mother! Help me! I have lost control! I am falling apart from within! Help me!”

But, they could do nothing short of wiping her from the cosmos. Reflecting upon her own potentially misguided wisdom, Mother wept. Father slapped himself for being so hasty and persistent in the pursuit of pride. In search of other worlds to litter and ravage, some of the daughter’s tiny parasites ventured deep into space with the ships she provided. Following the errant paths of the wasteful machines over their shoulders, the parents retraced the eons of their previous attempts at raising children and wondered how their neighbors, the Andromeda family, fared so well. [What did they truly know about their neighbors? And, did they need to snoop?]

                                                                           *******

“Surprise!” cheered her parents, stirring the young artist from her slumber. The latter rubbed her eyes and followed the visual cues of the former along the curves of her weathered frame. Though she had found herself drowning in darkness and despair only a moment ago, she was now glowing with a renewed sense of peace and a vigor. Gone were the mounds of death and destruction. Those tiny pests she had created were now working together as one happy community, no longer fighting over materials or each other. And, the older forms once thought doomed to extinction were now given their fair share of space to live as Humanity did.

“Happy birthday, my daughter,” said Mother with an earnest smile. “Just look at you, now. So grown-up. So mature. And, to think, a few eons ago, you were ready to throw yourself into the black hole because of some hideous eruption on your face.”

Her father, showing his age with the faintest tint of red in his thinning cheeks and forehead, added, “You have never looked lovelier than you do today, my child. You honor us both. And, look, our neighbors have brought you presents.”

The woozy artist squinted over her parents’ shoulders to see the handful of colorful visitors in the distance, each with tiny surprises headed her way. Neglecting to mention the former identity of the rock chosen as a meeting place, Mother and Father cleared the asteroid field to welcome the guests. Everyone had such a joyous time at the birthday party…

…Except for one tiny solar-powered ship carrying a lone green explorer who steered clear of all the commotion. He didn’t dare venture closer to those he could not yet understand. Instead, he continued his journey through space, watching the universe drift by as he decided what to do with the rest of his life.

 

 

~Writingbolt, 7-26-2014

14
Jul
14

Whatever god created sexual intercourse…

…probably didn’t intend on it being bought and sold like chicken feed.

 

 

Tweet!

14
Jul
14

Does a Stinky Message Smell as Sweet?

 

 

Well, how could it? I mean…I just said it’s a stinky message. Right?

But, what if you don’t see or smell the stench because others convince

you it’s worth the price of their resources? Suddenly, you’re more

interested in experiencing something with your own senses than

weighing the pros and cons. If all of your neighbors are jumping at the

chance–even if it robs them of their privacy, wealth and/or dignity–why

let the seemingly obvious warning signs stand in your way of joining

them?

 

 

When you join a club or website, do you give the name or any policy details any thought? Or, do you just join because others have, the meeting room/home page looks pretty or it’s the first place you found in a search for space to write out/share your thoughts?

 

Would an unpleasant name or rule insisting you humiliate/hurt yourself in some way stop you from joining? Or, do these not stop you?

 

When you see a commercial for a product involving real people sharing their enthusiasm, do you believe the person really supports, likes and/or uses the product? Or, do you dismiss this as (bad) acting and learn more about the product another way?

 

Do you listen to music for its beat while ignoring the lyrics? Have you ever heard a song that sounded good until you learned the lyrics upset your moral code? Do you pledge loyalty to a band/musician even if you don’t like all of their songs? Have you ever given up interest in a musician/band after hearing an awful song?

 

 

Is “trending” so vital to social interaction and acceptance that we forget

or ignore what is defined as negative, immoral and/or harmful? Maybe

you’ve heard some version of the expression: “If all of your friends

jump off a bridge, do you have to join them?” This isn’t revolutionary

news here, people. This has been going around since Eve sold herself

into evil’s service and gave a bad apple to her boy toy, Adam.

 

 

[In future posts, I will discuss two categories/examples, Music and Websites. Look for them if interested in reading more.]

10
Jul
14

Do You Attach Your Face to Things You Do Not Like/Use?

Have I already told you how much I get irked by advertising and any spokesperson/”news anchor” who seems locked into either only saying good things about everything they are forced to pitch** or spreading foul gossip? It just happens to be something that has built up an intolerance in me at this time. Thus, I am taking this moment to release some mental debris.

[You like picking your way through other people’s thoughts; right? If so, have at this lot. But, you may want to bring along a snack and/or beverage as I get a little “windy.”]

**You’re honestly going to see every movie you mention whether it suits your interest or not? Sure you are. Maybe if someone pays you a favorable sum just to do it. But, I guarantee you won’t like every last one. Still, you will sit with a fabricated smile upon your plastic face and tell the world how great they all are because, for some twisted reason, your paycheck depends upon such nonsense.

[Some would say I have too much free time if I let such things bother me. They don’t watch TV or don’t see what I do. They say I give such things too much thought when they and/or others just let them be. And, perhaps, they use them without thinking as much. To each their own.]

In a magazine, newspaper or one of the many lame “flash” slots you find on a PC/tablet/phone screen, you may only get a static image of someone modeling for a product/service. And, there’s a good chance the model’s image has absolutely nothing to do with the product (other than, perhaps, the environment in which the product may be used).

[“That woman is dressed for the office. That product must be good for my suffocating work station. Surely, it will make me feel better at the end of my shift.”
OR
“That man is dressed for the office. I should add that (potentially addictive/hazardous, ridiculously small and ineffective sample size) product to the (senseless and wasteful) swag bags for all of my employees at the next company function and shake hands with the representative/s for the manufacturer to boost revenue/merger/buyout potential.”]

In some hastily assembled cases, the ads use images snatched from web sites/online photo galleries (with proper permission/payment, we assume). Does that model truly support or use the product advertised with their face/body? Probably not. More likely, the model needed money and was willing to pose in some outfit they did not pick themselves before their image was used for all sorts of merchandising and questionable services in the hands of countless “businesses.”

How low it must be to buy/borrow/steal these models and slap them in some ad like a common hand or package. Sure, maybe the models signed themselves over to partake, but does that mean those seeking representation have to morally cheat or buy up every/any “prostitute” in town? What if the product/service is assuredly bogus/worthless or corrupt? How sad it must be to see your face on an ad for a product/service you don’t personally approve. I personally would not want my face/artwork/image in one for something toxic like sex “toys,” cigarettes or pills of any kind promising benefits at the expense of retirement/daily necessity funds and baffling side effects. How sad it is to see what people will do for a buck only to cost countless others their bucks for no good reason/result.

With “televised” commercials, it’s quite similar if not worse. I think it’s worse to invest more time exposing oneself as a spokesperson/representative of a product/service one doesn’t support (or filming a scene without knowing what it will be used to support/promote). How sad to be a struggling actor/actress forced to take on such a mindless role in hopes of proving oneself worthy of licking the lint off the wardrobe of some “bigger name” who offers a “better” job. I don’t think I’d feel so good about my fame and limited fortune with some undesirable commercial (or “porn”) in my history book. I sure don’t want to end up on some talk show where the host thinks it’s positively amusing to dig up that soulless garbage.

I see an add for some “tragic” disease or ailment attributed to the use of some form of modern medicine, and it features a young man or woman with his/her head in their hands. I can only imagine the photographer telling this individual to look depressed/hopeless in order to boost sales of the “cure.” If the person is genuinely afflicted by the ailment, I suppose there might be some “justice” in getting the word out. Yet, those who know the person might pester them more often rather than be of any help/support. If the person is just an actor/model…who wants to be the poster child for a potentially fatal disease?!

Every now and then, I imagine myself being “famous” and trying to be selective about what talk shows I visit while some agent insists I have to make an appearance on some crappy one lest I take a dive into fan bankruptcy. If forced to appear before some immoral/amoral host, I tell myself not to partake in their misguided amusement and verbally/publicly speak out against them if they cross my boundaries. I’d rather save the trouble of scandal and lawsuit, skip the chicken feed to maintain my overpriced and exceedingly large mansion in range of brush fires or other natural disasters and keep all relationship details hidden away like a hermit.

The more I hear of actors/actresses not wanting to watch themselves on film, seeing therapists and/or being stalked by paparazzi, the less I like the idea of “fame.” I’d like to kick all those “camera mosquitoes” where the sun doesn’t shine for harassing/disrupting the lives of these “celebrities” whether the latter ask for more attention or not. And, if they ask for cameras to risk blinding them or stealing every shred of privacy for tabloid bull crap, how sick is that? What body part do they sacrifice first to ease some twisted part of their brains? What separates the side-effects of fame from the closet habits of other mentally troubled souls who resort to “cutting” and eating disorders?

In recent years, it’s been made easier. You don’t need an agent. Just make your own or get someone to set up a plot in cyberspace and fill it with all sorts of mental dust bunnies. Do you really need to know what I eat for breakfast or what I am wearing to get through your day/life? Not unless you’re taking notes on how to be a stalker.

Seriously, what is the sense of all this excess information tracking? How is this helping people to interact peacefully or to simplify their lives? How is this beneficially entertaining unless you are actual friends with these people, sharing this information when you meet for (lunch)? In an ideal world of people struggling to ask each other out on dates, I suppose such detailed “bios” might grease the wheels with surprises of one’s favorite this or that. But, from my observation, the odds seem to be in favor of abusing/misusing provided information. At least, the “water” seems too polluted with gossip, scandal and threats to one’s life to be of any serious benefit…unless you somehow feed/live off of such vices.

But, I suppose, I could save breath, and we could all just stop exposing our eyes (and ears) to advertising/video as a whole. Ay?

Suppose, many years from now, we all want to laugh and/or cry for investing in all of these all-in-one gizmos designed to do everything from light the dark spaces under our furniture to manage our daily activities and bank accounts yet fall apart at great expense in the clumsiest of hands. Suppose we learned sooner than later not to put all of our eggs in one expensive basket and lived without tools that still rely on batteries and risk radiation poisoning with consequences yet to be fully understood/seen. Suppose we did something about filling landfills with trending garbage and sacrificing our dignity/privacy/health to false quick fixes. Suppose we said “adios” to all things internet and televised/advertised/radio-broadcasted and started focusing on producing what we needed in peace and harmony with the rest of nature. I imagine that would have some gloomy side effect of its own, unleashing some other unpleasant, dark cloud upon the masses for not submitting themselves to the questionable imagery and sales pitches.

[Now, suppose I wrote all of this for nothing and didn’t have digital/internet space to fill with these thoughts. I suppose I’d share it the old way, face-to-face, with whoever I found willing to share such thoughts in my proximity.]

If anything is to be learned from superheroes and related kids shows, it’s that–no matter how you dress it up–there will perpetually be some scum out there we have to either elude or fight off til the next crap maker comes along to pester us. The enemy doesn’t wear colorful or stereotypical costumes and/or fully disclose their diabolical plans to the world. Nor are the creatures that lurk in the shadows as dangerous as what humans can and often do inflict upon themselves/their fellow “man.” We “citizens” have to be more aware and make better decisions to save ourselves in more ways than we care to ponder.




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