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Friday, December 14, 2012
It's time to take some of the guns out of their hands--cold and dead or otherwise
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2012/12/14/obama-briefed-on-connecticut-shooting/
President Obama:
If your heart is broken, and I do not doubt that it is, confront the National Rifle Association, the gun lobby, and congressional Republicans, and dare to demand new and tough gun control legislation immediately.
Another story of a mass shooting in the United States hits the news almost daily. This cannot be allowed to continue. Something must be done. You are in a unique position to do it.
You are in your second term and do not have to run for reelection. Call for bipartisan support for sweeping new handgun and assault rifle bans. Begin there.
Of course the NRA will demonize you. They already do and you have never approached the gun control issue. But do not permit the NRA to cower you. You know what is needed and you know what is morally right.
Push for enactment of gun control laws that will curb gun ownership in the United States of America. There is no other solution. There are too many guns on the street and in the homes of Americans. Period.
Call for legislation to be enacted in memory of the happy faced and innocent little children who died in Connecticut today at the hands of some mentally deranged nut with access to handguns.
D. Grant Haynes
President Obama:
If your heart is broken, and I do not doubt that it is, confront the National Rifle Association, the gun lobby, and congressional Republicans, and dare to demand new and tough gun control legislation immediately.
Another story of a mass shooting in the United States hits the news almost daily. This cannot be allowed to continue. Something must be done. You are in a unique position to do it.
You are in your second term and do not have to run for reelection. Call for bipartisan support for sweeping new handgun and assault rifle bans. Begin there.
Of course the NRA will demonize you. They already do and you have never approached the gun control issue. But do not permit the NRA to cower you. You know what is needed and you know what is morally right.
Push for enactment of gun control laws that will curb gun ownership in the United States of America. There is no other solution. There are too many guns on the street and in the homes of Americans. Period.
Call for legislation to be enacted in memory of the happy faced and innocent little children who died in Connecticut today at the hands of some mentally deranged nut with access to handguns.
D. Grant Haynes
Friday, December 7, 2012
Australian shock jock radio prank unforgivable
Several observations from my perspective about the unfortunate prank call from Australian shock jocks that apparently led to the suicide of a British nurse. (See news story at URL above.)
(1) Characterize me as "dour" or humorless, but I never found any practical joke to be remotely amusing.
(2) Shock jock radio programs in which DJ's make prank calls representing others should be against the law in any society.
(1) Characterize me as "dour" or humorless, but I never found any practical joke to be remotely amusing.
(2) Shock jock radio programs in which DJ's make prank calls representing others should be against the law in any society.
(3) Only in Great Britain would a loyal subject of the Crown be so mortified for being the unwitting victim of this dumb, stupid, and not at all amusing practical joke as to have taken her life in the aftermath. I don't think any American would have been that upset. Perhaps the nurse's ethnicity caused her to feel greater humiliation than would have an Anglo nurse in Great Britain. Bless her heart. She had done nothing wrong and certainly nothing warranting suicide. The British are too much in awe (a "favourite" expression of theirs) of their Royal Family. Members of that family put their pants on one leg at a time too.
(4) The guilty parties in this matter are the two young Australian radio personalities involved and the managers of their station that established an atmosphere condoning such a prank as entertaining or amusing. It was neither.
D. Grant Haynes
Friday, September 28, 2012
Transcendental stirrings shore this writer up; beckon him onward
(In the final chapter of my 2007 book, The Neocon Aberration, I take liberties and go far afield by exploring briefly my spiritual belief system. While a critic might justifiably point out that this material belongs in a different book, I wished to end my often caustic political commentary on a slightly positive note by pointing out that, ultimately, all will be well in my opinion and according to my spiritual credo. -- D. Grant Haynes)
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar. -- William Wordsworth
Chapter 11
A divergence...
What follows represents a radically divergent facet of my belief system and thinking--certainly a change of pace from anything presented in this work previously.
My belief in the transcendental nature of existence--of the eternality of the soul and of the essential impermanence of all Earth life experiences--provides me solace and a welcome refuge from the storm occasionally.
An interest in the metaphysical and esoteric is long-standing in me. I was reared in such a tradition. For this priceless gift, I pay homage to my parents--humble people who dared to be different in an American Bible Belt community.
I have not always lived up to their or my highest ideals, but I’ve always maintained some tenuous connection to my roots and to an alternative view of reality--one that has deepened as I have sought to mold and embrace it--make it my own--in my maturity.
I believe that we as humans are more--much more--than frail physical organisms sentenced to toil for a brief span in an imperfect realm characterized by war, disease, disaster and mayhem, only thereafter to face extinction of individuality or, alternatively, timeless residency in an environment popularly imagined as heaven or hell.
Rather, I see us as wayfarers on a journey, the goal of which is attainment of a more perfect state of consciousness (i.e., life) as the dross of materialism with its inherent sense of separation from the source of all good is cast aside through lessons learned along the way.
So, a thoughtful reader may at this point ponder, why have I as a writer and thinker permitted myself to be drawn so deeply into the endless rounds of hypocrisy, machinations, lies, brutality, cruelty, genocidal wars and rumors of wars that have characterized American politics for the last decade?
If I am a transcendentalist, why didn’t I simply sit in the lotus position, om, and deny the reality of it all?
In answer to this valid question, I can only offer that my inclination has been to utilize my only talent of note at this time--an ability to write--to expose the injustices that are rampant in the energy system that largely constitutes my reality as I pass through it.
I trust that my efforts have not been entirely in vain--that I may have touched a few consciousnesses and altered a few outcomes through my writings, samples of which have been presented in this book.
I remain buoyantly hopeful that I can continue the good fight for that which is aligned most closely with the Light, as I am given to perceive the Light, in whatever situations and circumstances future venues may afford me.
D. Grant Haynes
May 2007
___________________________________________
Above, the abandoned nymphal shell of a Cicada that emerged from years in the soil to transmute into a winged iridescent creature should serve as an object lesson for us all. Life is eternal and soul ultimately transcends the outgrown shells of its temporary expression. Emerson said, "Nothing is dead. Men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out the window, sound and well, in some new and strange disguise." (Photo by D. Grant Haynes)
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar. -- William Wordsworth
Chapter 11
A divergence...
What follows represents a radically divergent facet of my belief system and thinking--certainly a change of pace from anything presented in this work previously.
My belief in the transcendental nature of existence--of the eternality of the soul and of the essential impermanence of all Earth life experiences--provides me solace and a welcome refuge from the storm occasionally.
An interest in the metaphysical and esoteric is long-standing in me. I was reared in such a tradition. For this priceless gift, I pay homage to my parents--humble people who dared to be different in an American Bible Belt community.
I have not always lived up to their or my highest ideals, but I’ve always maintained some tenuous connection to my roots and to an alternative view of reality--one that has deepened as I have sought to mold and embrace it--make it my own--in my maturity.
I believe that we as humans are more--much more--than frail physical organisms sentenced to toil for a brief span in an imperfect realm characterized by war, disease, disaster and mayhem, only thereafter to face extinction of individuality or, alternatively, timeless residency in an environment popularly imagined as heaven or hell.
Rather, I see us as wayfarers on a journey, the goal of which is attainment of a more perfect state of consciousness (i.e., life) as the dross of materialism with its inherent sense of separation from the source of all good is cast aside through lessons learned along the way.
So, a thoughtful reader may at this point ponder, why have I as a writer and thinker permitted myself to be drawn so deeply into the endless rounds of hypocrisy, machinations, lies, brutality, cruelty, genocidal wars and rumors of wars that have characterized American politics for the last decade?
If I am a transcendentalist, why didn’t I simply sit in the lotus position, om, and deny the reality of it all?
In answer to this valid question, I can only offer that my inclination has been to utilize my only talent of note at this time--an ability to write--to expose the injustices that are rampant in the energy system that largely constitutes my reality as I pass through it.
I trust that my efforts have not been entirely in vain--that I may have touched a few consciousnesses and altered a few outcomes through my writings, samples of which have been presented in this book.
I remain buoyantly hopeful that I can continue the good fight for that which is aligned most closely with the Light, as I am given to perceive the Light, in whatever situations and circumstances future venues may afford me.
D. Grant Haynes
May 2007
___________________________________________
Above, the abandoned nymphal shell of a Cicada that emerged from years in the soil to transmute into a winged iridescent creature should serve as an object lesson for us all. Life is eternal and soul ultimately transcends the outgrown shells of its temporary expression. Emerson said, "Nothing is dead. Men feign themselves dead, and endure mock funerals and mournful obituaries, and there they stand looking out the window, sound and well, in some new and strange disguise." (Photo by D. Grant Haynes)
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Let them eat cake for that toothache
I have been both annoyed and amused by two dentistry ads appearing on the right side of my Facebook page recently. Those writing the ad copy are clueless about the reality of being poor in America.
The focus of one group's ad is that if you are avoiding the dentist because you are afraid of pain, they can help.
Excuse me, "let them eat cake" blind, deaf, and dumb private medical practitioner sycophants and toadies.
I do not avoid a dentist because I fear pain. I avoid them because I cannot pay for their services and my nation will not help me pay for them, even in my maturity.
The other group is hawking dental implants. They blithely write of their services costing from $500 to $40,000. And they have an easy payment plan for you if you need it. The only hitch is, the balance must be paid in six months. Let's see ... $40,000 divided by 6 comes out to $6666 a month.
Gee, that's a bit more than my monthly income!
The point is, of course, that persons on modest retirement incomes who lack private insurance (because the monthly premium would be prohibitively high) are written off, abandoned, and not taken into consideration whatsoever in this nation of greed-ridden and selfish capitalists, many of whom pray and sing and cry each Sunday about Jesus' love for the blind, the halt, and the poor.
Jesus aside, either you made it in the USA playing the game in the manner prescribed, or you are hell out of luck at the upper end of your sojourn here.
Universal single payer health care should be a right of every citizen of this nation.
The focus of one group's ad is that if you are avoiding the dentist because you are afraid of pain, they can help.
Excuse me, "let them eat cake" blind, deaf, and dumb private medical practitioner sycophants and toadies.
I do not avoid a dentist because I fear pain. I avoid them because I cannot pay for their services and my nation will not help me pay for them, even in my maturity.
The other group is hawking dental implants. They blithely write of their services costing from $500 to $40,000. And they have an easy payment plan for you if you need it. The only hitch is, the balance must be paid in six months. Let's see ... $40,000 divided by 6 comes out to $6666 a month.
Gee, that's a bit more than my monthly income!
The point is, of course, that persons on modest retirement incomes who lack private insurance (because the monthly premium would be prohibitively high) are written off, abandoned, and not taken into consideration whatsoever in this nation of greed-ridden and selfish capitalists, many of whom pray and sing and cry each Sunday about Jesus' love for the blind, the halt, and the poor.
Jesus aside, either you made it in the USA playing the game in the manner prescribed, or you are hell out of luck at the upper end of your sojourn here.
Universal single payer health care should be a right of every citizen of this nation.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
The trouble with Prince Harry
Great Britain's Prince Harry has made worldwide headlines after multiple photos surfaced of him cavorting with Las Vegas showgirls while nude and, one can assume, drunk. Prince Harry, now 27, has been making such headlines regularly since a teen.
The trouble with Prince Harry of Great Britain is the selfsame trouble often present in those possessed of excessive wealth, privilege and entitlement throughout human society, but most especially in the capitalist West.
Whether a manipulative Wall Street baron who drew down millions annually while dishonestly inflating a housing bubble that finally burst, destroying the dreams of millions of Americans, or Britain's young Prince Harry showing his drunken and disorderly arse (literally) in a Las Vegas hotel, these people feel their entitlement allows them to play by a differing set of rules than the rest of us.
What this world needs is a thoroughgoing socialist revolution in which wealth and privilege are leveled by as drastic measures as are necessary to achieve the goal of eliminating egregious cases of excess from the human scene.
The British royal family, a constitutional monarchy that serves no useful purpose beyond pageantry anyway, should be eliminated. Their vast holdings of real estate and other wealth, as well as their excessive entitlements, should be distributed amongst their long-suffering subjects.
The world of the 21st Century has no place for kings and queens and other societal leeches whose only charge is to party hardy when young and open parliament with boring prepared speeches when old.
The trouble with Prince Harry of Great Britain is the selfsame trouble often present in those possessed of excessive wealth, privilege and entitlement throughout human society, but most especially in the capitalist West.
Whether a manipulative Wall Street baron who drew down millions annually while dishonestly inflating a housing bubble that finally burst, destroying the dreams of millions of Americans, or Britain's young Prince Harry showing his drunken and disorderly arse (literally) in a Las Vegas hotel, these people feel their entitlement allows them to play by a differing set of rules than the rest of us.
What this world needs is a thoroughgoing socialist revolution in which wealth and privilege are leveled by as drastic measures as are necessary to achieve the goal of eliminating egregious cases of excess from the human scene.
The British royal family, a constitutional monarchy that serves no useful purpose beyond pageantry anyway, should be eliminated. Their vast holdings of real estate and other wealth, as well as their excessive entitlements, should be distributed amongst their long-suffering subjects.
The world of the 21st Century has no place for kings and queens and other societal leeches whose only charge is to party hardy when young and open parliament with boring prepared speeches when old.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Friday, December 9, 2011
Speaking up for black bears on Washington coast
http://www.chinookobserver.com/news/bears-facing-death-for-trash-raids/article_6fd015b4-20f7-11e1-99ac-0019bb2963f4.html
(See my comment at end of this article.)
D. Grant Haynes
(See my comment at end of this article.)
D. Grant Haynes
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Monday, November 7, 2011
Remind me to bring a candle next time...
Tiring of eating in a Chinese restaurant with coughing booth neighbors, I decided to do something different tonight.
I bought a Chinese carry out meal; stopped and got some coffee at the only fast food establishment in Long Beach--one where the gals have learned to provide quadruple cream at the outset--and then drove to the Seaview Beach approach where I had recorded the moonset video last month. (I've had 178 hits now, thank you m'am.)
I wanted to be quiet and alone for the space of an hour.
November's moon was floating languidly in and out of clouds in the eastern sky, but she was still in the waxing gibbous stage and wasn't providing much light as I stared into the hypnotically beautiful and rhythmically sighing distant surf.
The tourist season is definitely over. I was alone. I was quietly roll up your window and lock the doors of the truck alone.
Don't laugh. There are black bears on the Long Beach Peninsular and I didn't want one that smelled my food to come and attempt to share it with me.
I began the meal as the last vestiges of twilight in a darkening western sky provided faint illumination. I was able to separate the tofu from the water chestnuts at first.
And heck, my eyes would grow accustomed to the darkness as it fell, I told myself.
Not necessarily so.
A few minutes into my Chinese fare, I was sitting in inky darkness. There are no street lights at the Seaview approach. I mean, it was DARK!
Attempting to impale bits of broccoli, tofu, and snow peas by touch and with only a flimsy plastic fork quickly became a challenge and a chore.
I reluctantly switched on the interior light of the Ranger, which lent about as much ambiance as a law officer's flashlight shined into my window would have.
But I finished and enjoyed my meal by the light of that 12-volt bulb that works sometimes; flickers at others; and ceases to work altogether occasionally.
Next time I'm in one of those home and hearth establishments that sell scented candles, I will acquire one, along with a small lighter, and keep them in my truck for the next meal by the surf.
What do you think? I always liked vanilla candles. Would vanilla go well with Chinese food?
Or should I go with a pumpkin pie spice candle?
D. Grant Haynes
November 7, 2011
I bought a Chinese carry out meal; stopped and got some coffee at the only fast food establishment in Long Beach--one where the gals have learned to provide quadruple cream at the outset--and then drove to the Seaview Beach approach where I had recorded the moonset video last month. (I've had 178 hits now, thank you m'am.)
I wanted to be quiet and alone for the space of an hour.
November's moon was floating languidly in and out of clouds in the eastern sky, but she was still in the waxing gibbous stage and wasn't providing much light as I stared into the hypnotically beautiful and rhythmically sighing distant surf.
The tourist season is definitely over. I was alone. I was quietly roll up your window and lock the doors of the truck alone.
Don't laugh. There are black bears on the Long Beach Peninsular and I didn't want one that smelled my food to come and attempt to share it with me.
I began the meal as the last vestiges of twilight in a darkening western sky provided faint illumination. I was able to separate the tofu from the water chestnuts at first.
And heck, my eyes would grow accustomed to the darkness as it fell, I told myself.
Not necessarily so.
A few minutes into my Chinese fare, I was sitting in inky darkness. There are no street lights at the Seaview approach. I mean, it was DARK!
Attempting to impale bits of broccoli, tofu, and snow peas by touch and with only a flimsy plastic fork quickly became a challenge and a chore.
I reluctantly switched on the interior light of the Ranger, which lent about as much ambiance as a law officer's flashlight shined into my window would have.
But I finished and enjoyed my meal by the light of that 12-volt bulb that works sometimes; flickers at others; and ceases to work altogether occasionally.
Next time I'm in one of those home and hearth establishments that sell scented candles, I will acquire one, along with a small lighter, and keep them in my truck for the next meal by the surf.
What do you think? I always liked vanilla candles. Would vanilla go well with Chinese food?
Or should I go with a pumpkin pie spice candle?
D. Grant Haynes
November 7, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Michael Moore at Wall Street occupation event--a 'must watch'!
Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Consolidated all Long Beach material on new site
I found that I could improve the quality of my videos by setting up a new site with wide parameters. The videos are running larger and their full width is not compromised.
Also, I have added some still photos that I shot on Cape Disappointment at Long Beach June 16. The west side woodlands of Washington State are magnificent, as you will note from the photos.
The URL for the new site titled, "Sights, sounds of Long Beach, Washington" is:
http://longbeachsightssounds.blogspot.com/
Sorry it took me so long to get all of my Long Beach trip material up.
D. Grant Haynes
Also, I have added some still photos that I shot on Cape Disappointment at Long Beach June 16. The west side woodlands of Washington State are magnificent, as you will note from the photos.
The URL for the new site titled, "Sights, sounds of Long Beach, Washington" is:
http://longbeachsightssounds.blogspot.com/
Sorry it took me so long to get all of my Long Beach trip material up.
D. Grant Haynes
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Dandelion patrols out en masse
Two dandelion escapees with seed and a third that has already released seed (horror of horrors), ensuring continued disgusting dandelion presence for another spring! (Photo by D. Grant Haynes)________________________________________
Well, my neighbors, as well as management of the apartment building where I reside, are into their "kill every stinking dandelion in Washington State" mode at this time, as every spring.
The grounds where I live have already been "treated" and thousands of dandelions are wilting and dying at this time.
And my neighbors each patrol their lawns in the afternoon, trigger finger cocked on a herbicide gun, ready to zap any dandelion that dares to rear its illegitimate, unwelcome, disgraceful head on their manicured lawn.
Why do people hate dandelions so much?
Dandelions offer cheerful yellow flowers early in the spring when lesser herbs linger in the cold ground.
And dandelions grace the landscape with their fluffy, sun catching, graceful seed heads when the bloom has performed its essential role.
And besides, dandelion greens are thought to be a delicacy by some. Did you ever hear of zoysiagrass greens?
I like dandelions and I enjoy their presence in my world.
I believe men in this farming region of North America, especially, despise any plant that they can't control completely and bend to their wills--most especially a plant that, in addition to being ornery, doesn't represent a cash crop for them.
I see more herbicides applied here than anywhere I have ever lived. A few people back home used to pull up or hoe out what they considered to be weeds. But not the wheat farmers of Washington State and their kin. They do not bend their waists to eliminate any weed. They spray it with a herbicide, the residual effect of which will last for years.
And who should wonder that the ground water here is dangerously polluted with agricultural chemicals or that old folks are dropping as flies now that crop spraying is going at full tilt again?
Dandelions refuse to be tamed and domesticated. Dandelions refuse to give up. Dandelions do not ask anything of men--no fertilizer, no watering, no cultivation. And they grow in a wide variety of terrains, soils, biomes, and climates. A friend in Moscow, Russia, sent photos of downtown Moscow recently and darned if there weren't dandelions growing in cracks in the sidewalk there even!
So, here's to dandelions! May they long prosper and continue to confound controlling men who believe themselves to be masters of all there is on the face of the Earth.
There'll always be one more wild dandelion to challenge them!
D. Grant Haynes
Monday, May 2, 2011
Any man's death diminishes all men
Why did Obama's chest beating gestures about "gittin'" Osama bin Laden leave me cold?
Why did the hair on the back of my neck not rise, and why did I not stand and sing the Star Spangled Banner after Obama's statement May 1?
Because, in my opinion, destruction of a human life is always an undesirable solution.
I cannot gloat over Osama bin Laden's death, as do millions of Americans at this time. While I seek to avoid judging them and their motives, I am, quite obviously, in a differing place, spiritually and philosophically, than are they.
English metaphysical poet John Doone wrote, "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
I agree with Doone.
D. Grant Haynes
Why did the hair on the back of my neck not rise, and why did I not stand and sing the Star Spangled Banner after Obama's statement May 1?
Because, in my opinion, destruction of a human life is always an undesirable solution.
I cannot gloat over Osama bin Laden's death, as do millions of Americans at this time. While I seek to avoid judging them and their motives, I am, quite obviously, in a differing place, spiritually and philosophically, than are they.
English metaphysical poet John Doone wrote, "Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."
I agree with Doone.
D. Grant Haynes
Thursday, April 21, 2011
The darkling beetle saga--Part 2
D. Grant Haynes with darkling beetleIn early January when all was frozen outside and the days were frightfully short, I shared with you, my readers and browsers, the story of a darkling beetle (Eleodes spp.) that had emerged from somewhere and entered my warm apartment. The little fellow had paced back and forth for three days and nights when I became aware he would dehydrate and die soon if I did not take some action.
As related previously, I set up a small terrarium on my kitchen floor and sought to make the darkling beetle happy. I knew nothing about the care and feeding of the tiny creature. He, obviously, knew nothing about the large entity that was offering him aid and comfort, rather than squashing or spraying him.
We learned much about one another over the next weeks and months.
Now, more than three months after offering safe haven to one beetle that would have frozen in January's cold, I have six darkling beetles. No, there has been no multiplication of the species here. Rather, other darkling beetle wayfarers have emerged from the woodwork of the apartment from time to time. I have introduced each to the original boarder and they seem to have all gotten along well.
One of the beetles was found outside my door early on a particularly cold March morning. He appeared to be close to expiration. I assume the cold, or possibly some residual pesticide from management's determined spraying of each threshold last summer, had affected him. He could move nothing but his antennae when placed with the others. I expected to find him dead by the next day, but to my surprise, he gradually recovered!
I came to appreciate these harmless little vegetarian creatures more when I observed the healthy ones come and sit quietly by their ailing brother day after day. I cannot know what was communicated nor what healing touch or energy they conveyed, but it apparently worked.
I realized darkling beetles are capable of the rudiments of compassion and other soul qualities men in their arrogance may think are reserved for themselves.
I had read that darkling beetles eat decaying plant material. Not knowing what else to do, I introduced them to mulch from under conifers in my yard and changed the mulch every week or so. They survived on whatever they found in it for over two months. But recently, on impulse, I placed a small bit or raw broccoli (a leaf) in their enclosure. I learned that they love broccoli! Within minutes, they were lined up as tiny pigs at a trough, each munching on the broccoli. They receive a ration of several bits of broccoli daily now.
How long must this continue? When will I put them outside and, in doing so, turn them back to God, Love, the Universal Spirit, from which we all emanate and in whose merciful arms we all ultimately reside? Soon, I hope. I would have expected them to have been liberated long before the third week of April. But the winter has been a severe one in Eastern Washington and the nights are still dropping below freezing quite often.
I am anxious to release these harmless creatures so they can do "beetle" things during the brief summer they are allocated as a life form indigenous to Washington State. I hope to do so by May 1.
My visitants have taught me much and I am grateful to have known them.
D. Grant Haynes
___________________________________
Update:
I released my seven little darkling beetle charges today, May 19. I had never intended to keep them so long, but cold nights persisted well into the present month. And they had appeared to be comfortable and at peace in my care.
Still and all, they deserved to be free to do beetle stuff during the brief Pacific Northwest summer about to begin in earnest.
I released the beetles far from human habitation with its pesticides, herbicides and lawn mowers.
I made a brief video of their departure--something I may seek to incorporate into a comprehensive statement about my philosophical underpinnings and my long-held belief in the sanctity of all life forms.
D. Grant Haynes
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Francesca should have opened that door!
(What follows is a movie review I wrote on Amazon.com in 2002 concerning the film adaptation of Robert James Waller's book, "The Bridges of Madison County". My review was named one of the top seven for the movie out of hundreds some years later. -- DGH)
____________________________
I viewed Hollywood's adaptation of Robert James Waller's "The Bridges of Madison County" last evening. I had seen the film initially some years ago and regarded it as much ado about nothing for the most part at that time.
But I was struck in this new viewing more than before by the universality of Francesca Johnson's dilemma. Perhaps maturation and recent life experiences have generated a heightened understanding and awareness on my part.
Robert Kinkaid possessed a few of the qualities that have both inspired and dogged me during my middle years.
He was a rootless writer and photographer, as well as a keen and cynical observer of the human condition. Kinkaid had been far and done much. He had seen and experienced multiple facets of life and love and possessed limitless anecdotal knowledge of the world. He offered much to Francesca in terms of sensitivity, understanding, appreciation of beauty and companionship that she would never find on an Iowa farm.
But Kinkaid lacked Middle America's major indicators of success and worthiness--roots sunk deeply in one geographic location, a home and real estate, and most importantly, a traditional Cleaver family mind set.
Francesca reluctantly opted for the Cleaver family syndrome, choosing security and safety over fascination, inspiration and love. She lived out her years with a boring Iowa pig farmer, remaining a lonely and empty woman with nothing but tattered memories of her brief encounter with Kinkaid.
Had I been writing the screenplay, I would have had her fling open that truck door and dash through the rain storm to head west with Robert Kinkaid.
For better or worse, that's the impulsive sort of decision that has governed my life more often than not.
But such actions and those who take them do not comfort the psyche of Middle America's puritanical heartland.
Though they know better from their own experiences and those of others, the majority of Americans--middle class protestant ones especially--prefer to keep their heads safely in the sand about life and the human condition, pretending still in a little house on the prairie dream world that probably never was--one that most certainly doesn't exist now.
All is well in this delusional world of make believe--one that's filled with Little League games, soccer moms, church suppers and PTO meetings. Marriage and family are still the rocks of civilization and the ostriches are "saved" and bound for Heaven. Their president, George W. Bush, is a worthy man with a commission from their God to root out homosexuality, abortion and Islam.
In my opinion, such as they dwell in the outer limits of utter darkness, living and dying without a clue about the past, the present, or the future. They're not living--they're merely existing in a state of perpetual denial, awaiting the flat line and the rude awakening that will likely follow.
Thoreau wrote, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is termed resignation is confirmed desperation."
Francesca Johnson completed her life journey in this condition of quiet desperation. I think that's a damned shame. I wanted more for her. I wanted her to go with Robert Kinkaid and seek a few years of happiness and joy while they each had the time and opportunity.
D. Grant Haynes
____________________________
I viewed Hollywood's adaptation of Robert James Waller's "The Bridges of Madison County" last evening. I had seen the film initially some years ago and regarded it as much ado about nothing for the most part at that time.
But I was struck in this new viewing more than before by the universality of Francesca Johnson's dilemma. Perhaps maturation and recent life experiences have generated a heightened understanding and awareness on my part.
Robert Kinkaid possessed a few of the qualities that have both inspired and dogged me during my middle years.
He was a rootless writer and photographer, as well as a keen and cynical observer of the human condition. Kinkaid had been far and done much. He had seen and experienced multiple facets of life and love and possessed limitless anecdotal knowledge of the world. He offered much to Francesca in terms of sensitivity, understanding, appreciation of beauty and companionship that she would never find on an Iowa farm.
But Kinkaid lacked Middle America's major indicators of success and worthiness--roots sunk deeply in one geographic location, a home and real estate, and most importantly, a traditional Cleaver family mind set.
Francesca reluctantly opted for the Cleaver family syndrome, choosing security and safety over fascination, inspiration and love. She lived out her years with a boring Iowa pig farmer, remaining a lonely and empty woman with nothing but tattered memories of her brief encounter with Kinkaid.
Had I been writing the screenplay, I would have had her fling open that truck door and dash through the rain storm to head west with Robert Kinkaid.
For better or worse, that's the impulsive sort of decision that has governed my life more often than not.
But such actions and those who take them do not comfort the psyche of Middle America's puritanical heartland.
Though they know better from their own experiences and those of others, the majority of Americans--middle class protestant ones especially--prefer to keep their heads safely in the sand about life and the human condition, pretending still in a little house on the prairie dream world that probably never was--one that most certainly doesn't exist now.
All is well in this delusional world of make believe--one that's filled with Little League games, soccer moms, church suppers and PTO meetings. Marriage and family are still the rocks of civilization and the ostriches are "saved" and bound for Heaven. Their president, George W. Bush, is a worthy man with a commission from their God to root out homosexuality, abortion and Islam.
In my opinion, such as they dwell in the outer limits of utter darkness, living and dying without a clue about the past, the present, or the future. They're not living--they're merely existing in a state of perpetual denial, awaiting the flat line and the rude awakening that will likely follow.
Thoreau wrote, "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is termed resignation is confirmed desperation."
Francesca Johnson completed her life journey in this condition of quiet desperation. I think that's a damned shame. I wanted more for her. I wanted her to go with Robert Kinkaid and seek a few years of happiness and joy while they each had the time and opportunity.
D. Grant Haynes
Monday, December 13, 2010
The Sheeple
The people have spoken, goddamn them. -- Mo Udall
Chapter 2
This brief section in which I decry the apparent collective stupidity of the American electorate in giving George W. Bush fresh mandates to continue his madness at home and in the Middle East in 2002 and again in 2004 is the one segment above all others that my fainter-hearted friends have advised me against including in this volume. “You will only alienate readers and cause them to close your book by publishing such ire and rancor”, I have been advised. Perhaps so in some cases, though I hope not. But I do not seek to win a popularity contest anyway.
No record of the Bush administration-induced anguish that has dominated my thinking and emotions for the last six years would be complete without an honest expression of what I felt at moments of greatest despair and disgust during these terrible years. I am not dishonest enough to omit these statements. Or, alternatively, I am foolhearty enough to include them.
Americans could have rebuffed Bush in the 2002 mid-term elections, but they didn’t. This was inexplicable and unforgivable, I thought. My statements at the time reflected those sentiments.
And after the presidential election of 2004 when blindered Americans had voted Bush into office still again, thereby expanding his mandate to drag our nation ever deeper into the worst domestic and international malaise since the Great Depression, at least, I was, frankly, livid.
At that point Bush had established an indisputable track record of lies and double dealing about Iraq.
At that point he had expanded his unrelenting plutocratic attack on the middle class of America with more tax breaks for the wealthy, diminution of welfare funding, and relaxation of environmental laws to favor his fat cat contributors from the energy and other sectors.
Nothing had gone well since his appointment as president in December 2000, but here we were four years later facing four more years of the hell he had already put us through.
This, because Americans had not displayed enough collective intelligence to kick the bums out in the 2004 election. Rather, too many Americans were still crouching in dark corners expecting the Bush administration to protect them from “terrists” from without when, in truth, Bush and his cabal were the worst terrorist in America and in the world at the time. Or so I felt and wrote.
The tide is finally turning in the spring of 2007. Bush has few friends on either side of the congressional aisle and the most lethargic American couch potatoes are willing, finally, to listen to criticism of their president.
The corporate media whores are even finding a voice and daring to speak out after years of cutting Bush slack and presenting White House press releases as the gospel.
But it’s too little and it’s too late. The darkness from which our nation and the world must recover in the post-Bush years will linger for decades. It did not have to be so.
___________________________________
Excesses of blind patriotism annoying, dangerous
November 17, 2001
Dear Post-911 Flag-Waving Fellow Americans:
After reading your newspapers--after listening to your corporate media's propagandistic version of the so-called "War Against Terrorism" now under way in Afghanistan--after seeing your flag-decked SUVs with the Pisces emblems on the one side and National Rifle Association stickers on the other--after enduring this national adrenalin rush daily for the past two months--I have concluded that you are, by and large, a shallow, callous, insular, naively manipulable and infinitely self-righteous lot.
You are dangerously intoxicated at this time with a virulent strain of myopic ethnocentrism approaching Third Reich fanaticism--one that is most unattractive to the quiet minority here who can't in good conscience join your sloganeered, bumper-stickered, anthem-singing, flag-flapping, Arab-hating hysteria.
You are riding the crest of a wave of blind arrogance, egocentric hedonism and aggressive nationalism that cannot last--one that will inevitably lead to a cataclysmic fall in time.
I do not know how these things will evolve. I am no prophet or seer. But of this I am reasonably certain. You will be--you must be--humbled. Karmic laws are inexorable, inescapable and universal. America is ripe for a humbling as the 21st Century begins.
I do not wish this to be the case. I live here, as have my forebears for at least six generations. I have children and grandchildren who will suffer when the collapse occurs. But I see this national adjustment as inevitable.
You as a people are not better than--you do not deserve more of everything than--any other group on the planet.
You do not possess an inherent right to abuse--to show utter disregard for--other human cultures and groups, as well as every other species with which you share this tiny blue orb.
You do not possess an inherent right to destroy the very Earth that has nurtured you with your outsized contribution to global pollution--one that will bring catastrophic climate changes and sea level alterations within the present century.
You are not so very special and unique as you may imagine, flag-waving Americans. Deity has not singled you out for preferential treatment and predestined dominance. You are merely the current bully on the block--an ephemeral thing at best. Bullies come and go.
In the longer view of history, you will go the way of other civilizations that became overly extended, overly aggressive, overly confident, overly materialistic, and overtly abusive toward all that did not embrace unflinchingly their narrowly defined interests and values.
I have thought often during recent days of Thomas Jefferson's remark regarding the institution of slavery--a gathering storm in his time.
He said, "... I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just."
Indeed, I tremble today for my country because I know my fellows are on a course that cannot end well.
Chapter 2
This brief section in which I decry the apparent collective stupidity of the American electorate in giving George W. Bush fresh mandates to continue his madness at home and in the Middle East in 2002 and again in 2004 is the one segment above all others that my fainter-hearted friends have advised me against including in this volume. “You will only alienate readers and cause them to close your book by publishing such ire and rancor”, I have been advised. Perhaps so in some cases, though I hope not. But I do not seek to win a popularity contest anyway.
No record of the Bush administration-induced anguish that has dominated my thinking and emotions for the last six years would be complete without an honest expression of what I felt at moments of greatest despair and disgust during these terrible years. I am not dishonest enough to omit these statements. Or, alternatively, I am foolhearty enough to include them.
Americans could have rebuffed Bush in the 2002 mid-term elections, but they didn’t. This was inexplicable and unforgivable, I thought. My statements at the time reflected those sentiments.
And after the presidential election of 2004 when blindered Americans had voted Bush into office still again, thereby expanding his mandate to drag our nation ever deeper into the worst domestic and international malaise since the Great Depression, at least, I was, frankly, livid.
At that point Bush had established an indisputable track record of lies and double dealing about Iraq.
At that point he had expanded his unrelenting plutocratic attack on the middle class of America with more tax breaks for the wealthy, diminution of welfare funding, and relaxation of environmental laws to favor his fat cat contributors from the energy and other sectors.
Nothing had gone well since his appointment as president in December 2000, but here we were four years later facing four more years of the hell he had already put us through.
This, because Americans had not displayed enough collective intelligence to kick the bums out in the 2004 election. Rather, too many Americans were still crouching in dark corners expecting the Bush administration to protect them from “terrists” from without when, in truth, Bush and his cabal were the worst terrorist in America and in the world at the time. Or so I felt and wrote.
The tide is finally turning in the spring of 2007. Bush has few friends on either side of the congressional aisle and the most lethargic American couch potatoes are willing, finally, to listen to criticism of their president.
The corporate media whores are even finding a voice and daring to speak out after years of cutting Bush slack and presenting White House press releases as the gospel.
But it’s too little and it’s too late. The darkness from which our nation and the world must recover in the post-Bush years will linger for decades. It did not have to be so.
___________________________________
Excesses of blind patriotism annoying, dangerous
November 17, 2001
Dear Post-911 Flag-Waving Fellow Americans:
After reading your newspapers--after listening to your corporate media's propagandistic version of the so-called "War Against Terrorism" now under way in Afghanistan--after seeing your flag-decked SUVs with the Pisces emblems on the one side and National Rifle Association stickers on the other--after enduring this national adrenalin rush daily for the past two months--I have concluded that you are, by and large, a shallow, callous, insular, naively manipulable and infinitely self-righteous lot.
You are dangerously intoxicated at this time with a virulent strain of myopic ethnocentrism approaching Third Reich fanaticism--one that is most unattractive to the quiet minority here who can't in good conscience join your sloganeered, bumper-stickered, anthem-singing, flag-flapping, Arab-hating hysteria.
You are riding the crest of a wave of blind arrogance, egocentric hedonism and aggressive nationalism that cannot last--one that will inevitably lead to a cataclysmic fall in time.
I do not know how these things will evolve. I am no prophet or seer. But of this I am reasonably certain. You will be--you must be--humbled. Karmic laws are inexorable, inescapable and universal. America is ripe for a humbling as the 21st Century begins.
I do not wish this to be the case. I live here, as have my forebears for at least six generations. I have children and grandchildren who will suffer when the collapse occurs. But I see this national adjustment as inevitable.
You as a people are not better than--you do not deserve more of everything than--any other group on the planet.
You do not possess an inherent right to abuse--to show utter disregard for--other human cultures and groups, as well as every other species with which you share this tiny blue orb.
You do not possess an inherent right to destroy the very Earth that has nurtured you with your outsized contribution to global pollution--one that will bring catastrophic climate changes and sea level alterations within the present century.
You are not so very special and unique as you may imagine, flag-waving Americans. Deity has not singled you out for preferential treatment and predestined dominance. You are merely the current bully on the block--an ephemeral thing at best. Bullies come and go.
In the longer view of history, you will go the way of other civilizations that became overly extended, overly aggressive, overly confident, overly materialistic, and overtly abusive toward all that did not embrace unflinchingly their narrowly defined interests and values.
I have thought often during recent days of Thomas Jefferson's remark regarding the institution of slavery--a gathering storm in his time.
He said, "... I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just."
Indeed, I tremble today for my country because I know my fellows are on a course that cannot end well.
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