413. Whitetitlement Disorder, Z63.55

 

For years I didn’t even know I had this disorder. It’s a silent form of corrosion that grows in your gut darkly, similar to prostate cancer. Its scientific name is amygdalar sclerosis, which means “hardening of the amygdala”.  Sure, with an enlarged prostate you have to pee more often, but that’s a function of age, right?  And age alone is not a disorder. But amygdalar sclerosis is tricky, sneaky, internal subterfuge.Other white men may have it and not know so if they are surrounded by other white men who drink coffee or beer, or if they don’t spend time among the diverse people types who inhabit this changing country of ours. The symptoms may include but are not limited to the following:

  • intolerance of change that does not directly benefit them
  • a cloying fear of minorities as a group but not necessarily as individuals
  • disturbing nightmares wherein younger minority males hijack the white man’s car
  • self aggrandizement that seems justified by conveniently arranged facts or myths
  • feelings of superiority wrapped in flags of state or religion or economic theory
  • excessive fear of becoming a minority
  • an “us vs. them” mentality, black or white, all or nothing thinking frameworks
  • a longing for an imaginary idyllic past where law and order always worked while June Cleaver did not.

 

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383. Counterintuitive

Here’s a disturbing question for you:  When do folks suicide most often– summer, winter, spring or fall? Most folks think winter and the holiday season is ripe for suicides. That may be, but it’s spring that consistently hosts the most suicides in both the Northern and Southern hemispheres. (You know they are opposite, right?)According to the CDC April and May show a marked increase in suicides in the U.S. and other northern countries, and that suicides actually decline in the bleak winter months. One study I saw clearly demonstrated Monday as the favored day for suicides to occur. Maybe those folks just didn’t want to go to jobs they really hated. Hmmm, you’d think quitting or calling off might have been more effective.

Not to make light of suicide. I feel deeply for folks who are in such a pain filled state that they can only think of destroying the pain container instead of destroying or managing the pain. It’s the all-or-nothing approach to problem solving, similar to burning down your house to make sure you eliminate the pesky mice that run around your kitchen at night. Undeniably, it works; but this solution obliterates the plaintiff, bailiff, courtroom, reporters, judge and jury. It’s an odd sort of justice that obscures the original injustice.

I recall a local anesthesiologist who offed himself on an examining table at the hospital to protest real or perceived maltreatment. The thing is, we’ll never know what the rest of the truth  was because he executed himself as he executed his strange justice. I do not recall if it was a Monday in spring or not. Doesn’t matter. His job was to anesthetize patients in surgery and to revive them afterwards. It’s supposed to be a round trip ticket not a one way. Which is why single passengers who buy one way airline tickets with cash attract so much attention from the TSA. The guys I know who do this are not terrorists; instead, they are repossessing cars or delivering machinery. In any event, they are coming back… unlike Dr. Doom, who fully anesthetized himself forever.

Sad and disturbing. No one can grasp the unbearable weight that moves a finger to pull a trigger of the cocked pistol at one’s temple. Follow the triggered nerve back to the tortured brain that has been rehearsing this exit strategy. Almost all suicides are completed alone, which reduces the risk of revival or interference. Still, what an airless bedroom closet or bathroom it must be as the suicider sits and builds up the critical and final momentum for the ultimate terminus. Like waiting to vomit and then ride the terminal wave out of consciousness, where the constant is becomes the eternal is not. The pain and hopelessness must feel like giant aliens that must be destroyed.                                                                                 Image result for giant alien pictures

The demoniac self named “Legion” in the Gospel of Mark 5, had so many unclean spirits driving him that he smashed rocks against himself and ran around tombs naked and screaming near the pig herds of the Gerasenes.  His repetitive insanity was ended by Jesus with a command, “Come out of him, you unclean spirit.” The legion of unclean spirits came out and complied. They asked Jesus not to torment them and begged to be cast into the nearby herd of pigs. He complied and they possessed the pigs, leading 2,000 to hurl themselves into the Sea of Galilee and drown. That’s a lot of bacon, folks.

One life was saved, one mind restored. And you’d think that the folks around the Gerasenes would be pleased, but they weren’t. They begged Jesus to get back in his boat and leave. No thank you or praise or worship, nope. Just fear simmered in the melted grease of confusion. It’s been said that miracles don’t produce faith; rather, faith produces miracles. I agree. Despite witnessing the overcoming of supernatural forces, the locals wanted no part of this Savior. Counter intuitive again. If you don’t want the problem nor the solution, then really, what do you want? More confusion, I suppose.

 I recall a story of a young man’s suicide with a pistol. The parents were devastated, yet they gave the gun to the victim’s younger brother.  I’m not a gun hater, but if your older son overdoses on oxycontins do you give the rest of the prescription to his little brother? Or if the one hangs himself, do you give the remaining noose to his kid brother? Seems counterintuitive again. The math of suicide is not that hard to do, if you simply possess the courage to do it.
 semi-colon
Despite the common terminology, no two suicides are identical. Some are grandiose exits with letters full of anger and bitterness. Some are murder/ suicides involving children or partners, parents or pets. Somewhere in the convoluted thinking the perpetrator believes the survivors can’t make it without him/her, or he/she can’t make it without them… and it’s better to make it a package deal. Some are desperate hangings while the family is away. Even when clear reasons are attached to suicides, survivors ponder the WHY? I suppose this question comes from the valuing of life on the one hand, and the incomprehensibility of destroying oneself on the other hand, which is literally no longer there.
Guilt and shame follow suicides as surely as the million WHYS. Yet, if survivors look hard at the evidence, it is usually not their fault. The fault is most often in the suicider’s brain, where he/she solves a temporary  problem with a permanent solution. Overkill is a fair comment, I believe.  Intuitively healthy minds seek survival and generativity. Counterintuitively, unhealthy minds seek death and the cut off of their loved ones. A life well lived is a beautiful thing. A suicide is, no matter how meaningful or dramatic, is a disaster.

309. Numerology

When you run out of real things to think or talk about, you can make stuff up. Like numerology.

“Numerology is the study of numbers, and the occult manner in which they reflect certain aptitudes and character tendencies, as an integral part of the cosmic plan. Each letter has a numeric value that provides a related cosmic vibration. The sum of the numbers in your birth date and the sum of value derived from the letters in the name provide an interrelation of vibrations. These numbers show a great deal about character, purpose in life, what motivates, and where talents may lie. Experts in numerology use the numbers to determine the best time for major moves and activities in life. Numerology is used to decide when to invest, when to marry, when to travel, when to change jobs, or relocate.”

Wow!!! This sort of thing could keep a hamster busy for its entire life. Let’s say your birthday is the same as, oh let’s say Donald Trump– 06, 14, 1946. If I am following the above vague references, then adding 06 + 14 + 1946 will give me a certain magical number with occult meaning. Hmmm.  All I can come up with is 1966, which points me to the Donald at 20 years of age in the year 1966, during the Vietnam War. Now I have to find the cosmic vibration that emanates from his twentieth year of life.

As an internet search would have it, I got as close to that year as I could with the following blurb:

“During his college years, Donald Trump and his father decided to purchase an apartment complex in Ohio which was in bankruptcy. The purchase of this complex is striking because they obtained financing above the purchase price so they could do the necessary remodeling to the run down complex. The development purchased by Donald Trump with his father’s aid was called Swifton Village, a 1,200 unit apartment in Cincinnati, Ohio. It was purchased at a foreclosure sale for less than $6 million and sold within a year and half for about $12 million dollars. Without a penny of their own invested they were able to turn the apartment complex around by taking a strict approach at rent collection and by remodeling the appearance of the complex. Trump was able to see how the government would assist buyers in purchasing property with little or no financial backing, and best of all how to get such aid. This incident was the beginnings of the Donald Trump we know today. This event proved to be the single most important lesson Donald Trump learned.”

Wow, I’m seeing the numbers in numerology suddenly. Around 1966 The Donald made a cool $6 million without risking any of his own money. And the same government he mocks now actually backed his financing of that seminal project. I’m feeling that cosmic vibration now. Like the Tea Party folks who get a government check each month and demand their social security payments on time, but who reserve the right to bite that very same hand that feeds them… Ohhhhh, Ummmm, Yes, I’m feeling hypocrisy. Yeah, that’s it. Oh, and Donald was not in Vietnam because he had a string of deferments right through graduate school.

Now by decoding Vietnam with A= 1, B= 2, C=3… we get a total of 86. If you then deduct hypocrite 119 from Vietnam, you wind up with a difference of 35, which is about how much money Donald made during the war years in millions. The Donald must have realized that real estate in Vietnam did not look like a good investment in the 1960’s what with a war going on and POW’s being tortured in the north. Remember, he likes soldiers who don’t get captured. Kind of like saying, “I like folks who don’t get cancer. You know, winners like me.”

Now a cross check of letter values will give me even more insight, I am sure.

Assigning the same code of A= 1, B= 2, C= 3… we can decode Donald Trump into the following integers,  4+15+14+1+12+4 +20 +18+21+13 +16, the total of which is 138.  Now, it’s tricky to plug the sum into a meaningful relationship that has to do with the Donald. It’s clearly a premonition of his life– one man, three wives, five children (plus their moms). Well, well, it adds up to 1  3  8.  Amazing!!! Of course it helps if you have a free hand to make up the rules as you plop random numbers down. 138 also happens to be the average number of people he insults per week, just under twenty a day. So either way it’s a deep mystical insight into the Bloviator, which decoded adds up to 98. Which, if you add to the 138, comes out to a round 236. Now where to plug in this factoid?  270 electoral college votes are needed to elect a U.S. president. But since Donald never pays full price for anything, and he’s the world’s toughest negotiator, tougher even than William Shatner, he will gain the presidency for a yard sale price. Smart and tough. That’s the guy we need. He will build a wall around the White House and make Mexico pay for it.

But here is real risk. If you deduct 1966 from the upcoming election year 2016, you will arrive at a clear even number of 50. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s proof positive that the Donald will reign over these 50 United States. It’s in the numbers, folks. And old adage claims that “Figures don’t lie, but liars can figure.” Believe it. Since the first tyrant till now, bad logic has been offered up for the little people to suck on like a stone lollipop. It goes something like this, “Because I am rich, super rich, I am good and trustworthy.” Nothing could be further from the truth.

Being rich does not make anyone good or bad. That’s all about character, which does not need to be decoded.

288. Conspiracy Theories

 

CONSPIRACY noun (pl) -cies

1. a secret plan or agreement to carry out an illegal or harmful act, esp with political motivation; plot
2. the act of making such plans in secret
3. piracy, especially with cons in front of it.
 
Like a good myth, a conspiracy theory can’t be proven or disproven. It just has to be tolerated until it loses steam. The Kennedy assassination; the ‘Paul is dead’ myth; the Jade Helm theory; ten Jubilees; Elvis is alive in a Walmart in Arkansas; etc. etc. etc. There appears to be no end to End Times Doomsday prophecies to scare the kids with.  Some folks just seem to relish saying, “We’re all gonna DIE!!!” While it’s true that we all die, it doesn’t have to be news delivered like an ‘I told you so’. Death is a fact not a news headline.
 =========================================================
…and now it’s the Channel 9 In Touch Report with Jim:
“I was so shocked that my 96 year old neighbor died in his sleep of natural causes.”
Reporter Jim, “Why is that, Mrs. Underthinker?”
“It just seems so unfair. That sort of thing doesn’t happen in this neighborhood. I don’t know what to tell the kids now.”
Reporter Jim, “Uh, okay. Back to you in the studio, Shelly. I’m Jim McIntyre reporting from the intersection of Ignorance and Bliss in Naïve County.”
Shelly, “Jim, what can you tell us about the recent Elvis sightings at the Walmart?”
Reporter Jim: ” Oh, Growaset, Shelly!!”
 =========================================================
Not just stupid folks believe this crap. Lazy thinkers or non-thinkers buy it by the metric ton also. For one reason or another the believers need the easy lie when the truth is hard and complicated. Here are two math problems. Which would you rather attack?
or this one  2 + 2 = ? (Hint:  it’s an even whole number bigger than three but smaller than five.)
Sure, why get a headache when someone else can find and pre-chew your facts for you like a mother robin? And then every night at 6 p.m. you can open your hungry mouth and your favorite newscaster can spit out the day’s catch into your gullet as a worm-flavored smoothie. Simple. Let’s not talk about proof or truth; the key question is this: is the smoothie palatable or does it need more honey?
Every year or two features an end of the world story. Let’s see, the Mayan calendar ended in 2012, therefore, (as if what follows is inescapably logical) the world must end in accordance with the Mayan calendar. [If they were so smart, why are they extinct?] How about the other incomplete calendars that have been discovered over the millennia?  For instance, the Falkland Islands repeating calendar that goes on as far as the number pi?  Or the Easter Island calendar of a race of super people who were raptured by space aliens around 1,000 A.D.? So, you never heard of these, did you?  Why? Because I just made them up. It’s easy to do and hard to disprove.  The Easter Island calendar, by the way,was carved on the back of one of those giant human figures and then pushed over to hide it for a thousand years. “Smiling Sammy”, as the English explorer Captain Cook later called the 18 ton male human figure, remained face up as if worshiping the sun when he was actually protecting the eternal calendar code on his back. How about that?
In a real Hollywood movie that never made it to the theatres or even to Blue Ray release, Nicholas Cage’s character, G. Oliver South, finds Smilin’ Sammy and brings him to his original erect state with the help of a Grove crane and a secret herbal recipe. Meanwhile, both KGB and CIA and INTERPOL and MOSSAD agents (which adds up to more than both) comb the island searching for Nick/G. Ollie South, because each of them has one fifth of the code needed to decode the calendar chiseled into Sammy’s backside and thus control the world as we know it (in movie trailer gravelo voce). As luck and bad script writing would have it, Nick/G. Ollie South, a mere archeologist from Kansas, finds and kills all these better trained agents of evil and destruction with a can opener; unites the five fragments, and re-energizes Smilin’ Sammy, who then break dances on the beach of Easter Island, turning the Pacific into a frothy flood of tidal beer waves that threaten humanity. Nick runs into the suds and exclaims, “Tastes like Heineken.”
 Image result for nicolas cage drinking a beer picture
As he walks out of the foam capped beer waves in what’s left of his archeological shorts, Nick/ Professor South wears a quizzical expression on his unshaven face, and then screws his eyebrows and nose into a question mark. The fate of the world depends on him solving this suddenly sudsy mystery.  The audience senses time racing by since there are only about twenty minutes left on the running time, according to the Chinese DVD knockoff label. Nick sucks up some more beer spray urgently. He slaps his corkscrewed face into flaccidity. “Think, thank, thunk. I can’t get drunk” he recites to no one there, not even a chair.  Inspiration and courage show up simultaneously like twin sparrow hawks.

With the five part calendar code in one hand he climbs up Smilin’ Sammy’s left leg. He shimmies past the stone man’s absent arms and arrives at the pumicey neck. Uttering an ancient Micronesian curse, he puts Sammy into a professional wrestler sleeper hold, dropping Sammy onto his back, face up again, resting in the same original culvert of cupidity. A new smile on his volcanic rock face. Unexpectedly the ocean returns to its salty state.
Image result for Easter island statues
This conspiracy theory thing is not hard to do if you are practiced at the art of deception, or see Mick Jagger at the reception, a glass of wine in his hand. Standing in line with Mr. Jimmy, man did he look pretty ill.  Whoops. I was plagiarizing in a most vulgar manner there.  So, who was behind all this monolithic intrigue and manipulation? A secret international consortium of mega-breweries that run the U.N. and the Arab League and NATO. Nick has to find a way off the island so he can expose their skullduggery, but just as the University of Kansas helicopter starts to land, a poison dart hits Nick in his naked neck, killing him before he falls perfectly parallel to Smilin’ Sammy, the code buried beneath him. Silenced by a terminal sleeper hold.
 I get it now:  conspiracy theories are fun.

10. therefore

Image result for god picturesFinding God is an inescapable task, even for those who deny God, they have found Him and sent Him into the myth box or the library of fairy tales or the laboratory of science. Those who have lost God know where and when they lost Him. Some of us have simply misplaced God, put Him in the wrong priority level. We know He is around here somewhere.

As a little kid, knowing God helps hold back the onslaught of super complicated reality and all the questions that demand answers. Knowing God holds the barking fears at bay until the child can deal with them one at a time. The problem comes when unexplainable bad things overwhelm the kid and life’s problems outrun the explanations he can understand. The foundation is exploded before it’s even built.

It’s Good Friday in town and the streets are nearly empty. No school or court today. Free parking because Rod the ticket man is off with all the Boro employees. Even Leonard the gas man is home and out of uniform. Quiet. Some folks are finding God, but I imagine most are finding stuff to do–shopping, cleaning, planting flowers, traveling, trout fishing, golfing, drinking beer, baking cakes, walking aimlessly with heavy back packs, hallucinating, waiting for good news, getting hair cuts.

As a teenager knowing God helps counterbalance the power shifts with your parents. When you are so mad or disappointed with your mom or dad, you still have a parent to listen to you. Even orphans can have this parent. Teens are learning to think for themselves and tend toward the idealistic. They hate to hear about moderation and mostly good adults. Somehow they believe that it is possible to be 100% pure and good and kind to everyone. They are optimistic about human nature though they have not witnessed a representative sample of it yet. God and Jesus and Grandma are pure and holy, they reason, so it’s possible for them and their friends and family to be the same…if they all just try harder. Every generation does this dance with idealism.

As young adults you finally figure out that grandma was a good actress; and your closest, purest friend is in an abusive relationship; and your drinking water has some nasty chemicals in it because a trusted protection system failed. Human error all around. God and Jesus remain pure and good and holy, but everyone else sucks to some degree. And you wonder about this great divide between God and mankind. Ah, but it will be completely different when you have kids.

Weddings are perfect opportunities to deny the ugly reality that marriage can be. Weddings are staged and scripted for months, and then marriage happens spontaneously. Wedding snapshots are perfect, and then reality begins gnawing at the edges. Dreams don’t have to die, but they do need to be adjusted, postponed, financed, or reframed. Usually there is a crisis point where one must choose between the ideal dream and the real person snoring next to them. So often we choose the unmitigated dream and sever the imperfect relationship.

But our grandkids will get it right, we hope, as we call for a new deck of cards. Getting it right is the myth, though. Mankind has never gotten it right, which is why we need to be finding God.

Image result for seeking god pictures Take the leap of faith, my Godbloggets.