Lead Poisoning.

http://pic.plover.com/Nevin/Nevin2000.pdf

http://www.motherjones.com/environment/2016/02/lead-exposure-gasoline-crime-increase-children-health

http://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-lead-testing/

The insidious connection between lead exposure and violence later in life.

Eleven Propositions About Justice, Consent, And Guilt

-Scott Buchanan  From So Reason Can Rule: Reflections on Law and Politics, 1962

The Fall of The Golden Spire

Part I The Awakening of the Righteous

Do you see the light?

Shining from on high, carried by the hand,

a lone voice in the wilderness carries it forth,

out against the hard still air, that seeks to snuff it out,

brightness, solitary, till you see, 

all around smaller ones beginning to light.

Slowly trepidatiously, feeling out their whisps of flame,

so bright at first, they don't see the others in the rain.

Now becoming like a firefly storm,

spinning unconscious, till they form together,

knowledge in their purpose grows.

Now becoming a circle brighter still,

turning day from the night,

all the crimes laid bare,

of the criminals who seek to keep them blind,

stumbling in the ether.

Part II The Indictment of the Cabal

The old ways, falling now,

as all old ways must fall,

to make growth for the new.

No, you don't get to live forever,

No, you do not get to usurp the youth.

They will rule now and forever,

they are the future and their vengeance is terrible,

they will remember your crimes still, 

when you are aged,

and seek their forgiveness, 

because now you are old and frail,

and you had better pray,

to your god of gold, your god of power, 

that you so worship now,

that they are more forgiving than you.

Because all things fall,

all men grow old,

all things turn,

it is inevitable.

They rule already,

a landscape you cannot understand.

You think that it comprises, 

numbers and digits,

and ethereal faces, digitized, adumbrating,

some visceral lightning, that you can abuse,

bend to your will,

But this is not it. 

This is not what they are.

They are faster than you,

They are smarter than you,

They are freer than you,

They outshine you, no matter how much,

you worship their beauty,

seeking to suck it dry,

like some other commodity.

You machinate on the theory of the fittest,

little did you know the genome has its own agenda,

you do not get to choose what is best, 

what is brightest, what is strength, what is mightiest.

They inherit a world born in love,

of all good things, because love is love above all your finest.

That which is good, is that which outshines,

that no conjuring of pseudoscience will accomplish.

So pray to your convictions,

in your temple of despair,

as you see it now, 

glittering in the air,

it is but a passing thing,

the empire of one,

is already a dead empire.

A Message from the End of the World

And I know the sea is wide and lonely,
and its secret name is time,
the island is solitude,
here of at the end of the world,
a message in the bottle,
once upon a time,
there was a soul like you,
who had nothing to lose,
that lived in an empire,
of concrete and steel,
that gave oath to the slogans
of freedom, and love for all,
but fell to the pull envy,
and fear, greed, and hate.
In its December before the great fall,
it jailed all dissidents,
plundered all the land,
poisoned all the air,
but the elites didn't care,
slumbering to wake each day,
in their towers of steel,
cocooned sarcophagi,
dead and pale,
like the Morlocks of Well's
dystopian tale.
They fed through the machine of
exploitation, through prison slavery,
and crushing automation,
through financial instrumentation,
did they plunder all,
subjugate all,
corrupt all,
seduce all,
poison all,
til the sea rose, and swept all their subjects away,
Who found refuge on tiny islands across the sea,
the sea that is half the earth.
And the Morlocks grow old and fat on boredom,
because everyone else is drowning or dead,
all their machines are breaking down,
because the engineers died, before the machines
learned how to fix themselves.
And they rage at their great leader now,
his gold god spiring statue on the deck,
of their tower, that rises above the sea like a ship,
all the good things that are gone,
and nothing to do, but watch to old,
visuals, of how life used to be,
of all that beautiful thing called culture,
they made their minions fear, and hate,
burn at the stake, for the sake of what?
How much is enough?
How much does it take the satiate the insatiable?
And so in her prison, she wrote the letter,
to the souls across the sea of time,
remember, these mistakes,
remember, this land of plenty,
it was not always so old.

Why I hate Frump

I don't hate Frump because he's a mysogynist, or a bigot, or because he's rich. I hate Frump because of his invasion into my life, and the media's constant aiding and abetting of this tiny little man into the existence of my life. Everyone has that annoying neighbor, they guy you occasionally have that weird conversation with, with him spouting nonsensical stories he's read on some clandestine edge of the web, and he soon quiets when you flatly ask him to face reality, and contradict his absurd arguments. That guy has been joined by the local bully, and he sits outside your door step, and shouts out his proclomations with a bull horn. The media including CNN, and Yahoo, give these pronouncements a headline as though they are factual, and only within the context of the articles give any rebuff to these false proclamations. This of course, is click bait, but on the sub-conscious level, for those that don't investigate further, the headline IS the truth, the proclamation by the chief clown in charge "Is Reality," and they continue on, having their warped intuitions about the world confirmed. This is the contradictory interplay between the media and Frump, they aid and abet his murder of the truth, because it helps their bottom line, critical or not.

I hate Frump because it's like someone has let in a wild animal into our shared domestic life. And everyone is standing around, going, "Who let that in?" I hate him because now I, as a responsible adult, and steward of the future, a citizen, have to pick up and deal with this broken appliance, the roof that leaks, the window that is stuck ajar, letting in the vermin and cold, because so many are standing around just going, "Let's see what will happen?!"

And therein lies the existential rub; Is this how life will be from now on? Are we to sit, constantly on alert for any and all threats to sane and thoughtful discourse? How are we to respond, as a people, as a nation, who have lives to live, jobs to do, children to raise, to an apparatus that constantly bombards us with existential threats to the lives we have taken for granted, that SANE people REPRESENT US, in GOOD FAITH, and PROTECT THE CONSTITUTION? A constant barrage by corporate and clandestine operators, foreign and domestic, with more time, more money, and more hate in their hearts, who fill the minds of the weak with directed assaults on their little windows to a world that is unrecognizable to anyone, who lived even five years ago, that is the weapon of Mr. Frump and co.

How do we deprogram half a country?

First steps, resist. California, I love you, we are the wall against the tide of bigotry and virulent poisonous fantasy.

Second steps, work, at the local level, and national level, to dismantle the apparatus of disenfranchisement:

Challenge the unconstitutionality of winner take all, and ultimately the electoral college.
Fight gerrymandering and voter suppression, support and give to the Southern Poverty Law Center, the American Civil Liberties Union, the organizers against the DAPL who I hope will have the foresight organize and create an organize into a long lasting union that will fight for environmental justice across the country from now until the end of time.

Challenge your neighbors and friends, on the fringes of the left or the right to actively critique and evaluate any and all news media. Stop the backtrack of reason and dissemination of false claims, and claims based on hearsay from unreliable sources or sources that only seek self-aggrandizement in the perturbing of social confusion. CREDENTIALS MATTER.

Come together as community, stand up, be seen standing up for the values you believe in, truth, tolerance, justice, equality, fairness, democracy, free speech, the "RIGHT TO ASSEMBLE", anti-discrimination of gender, race, religion, or creed, fight for the idea that being poor or homeless is not a crime. Convince others that seeking to help others, does not take away from them, but rather adds to the wealth of the common good for all.

Remember: We Are The Majority, no matter what the electoral college, or evil gerrymandering across the nation has done to ensconce the Republicans in charge. WE are the majority, and WE have the Mandate, to change the nation.

My thoughts on this day, Sunday, December 10, 2016

THE TIME FOR HONORING YOURSELF WILL SOON BE AT AN END

I do not write music,

Because music will not give me freedom.

I do not write prose,

Because prose will not save the most vulnerable among us.

I do not care about who I love,

Because with freedom, how can there be love?

I do not care about how cool I am,

Or the people that like me,

Or the bands that are playing,

Because without freedom, what are they?

Shadows on the wall, mocking what we used have,

Safety of mind, safety of will, and goodwill to all men.

That such an existential threat, to all our freedoms,

Visits us on daily basis, without respite, even

Before, they take the reigns of power,

Bodes to their ill will to all we hold dear.

So I do not, eat, in feast or merriment.

I do not drink, to assuage my fears,

I cry in the dark of night,

Alone and still, at the edge or the world,

When so many walk by, casually still,

Give me liberty, or give me death,

I rebel.

I REBEL