In response to Christina’s message, she sent me recently─about whether I think Osama Bin Ladin was really killed─I must admit that I’ve put a lot of thought into it. Usually I have solid answers for touchy subjects, but in this case I’m torn by what I think. So I’ll at least tell you what I know; or at least, what I believe to know.
Coincidences do not exist. May 1st marks the anniversary of Hitler’s death. Are we all suppose to swallow whole the propagandic, political staging of this man’s murder. The Land of the Free sent government paid assassins to murder a man on foreign soil in cold blood. Osama Bin Ladin was presumed guilty without a trial─something that happens everyday in every part of the world─but the difference here is that this was done in the name of Americans.
And for what? For having supposedly orchestrated the events of September 11, 2001? Personally I’ve never seen any evidence of this, yes, I’ve read news stories and seen what the news said. But for me, believing is seeing.
From an economic and societal standpoint, I’m glad to hear that another person is not going to be fed as fodder into the American penal system, where it becomes a further Welfare burden for taxpayers to support. But since the U.S. is so pro-prisons seen by all the other conspirators currently at Gitmo──I’m surprised that Washington wouldn’t want one more to feed, clothe, and provide medical care for.
It almost seems like they killed to make sure he wouldn’t talk. If he is alive, that secret will be kept closer to the vest than the truth behind the Kennedy assassination.
Not surprising since the U.S. government has a track record for maintaining secrets.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Honest people
Honest people. Do they exist?
I spent the afternoon recently with my mother and grandmother─who I refer to normally as “my two mothers”──and we discussed whether anyone is honest. I brought up the point that so much of what we say is either based on perception or, on standard stock─phrase─statements which essentially comply with what the listeners expects to hear. If a nice elderly woman in the waiting room of the doctor’s office tells me what a beautiful day it is, and then asks for my opinion, I probably won’t tell her that it’s so humid outside that I’m having to swallow my air in gulps rather than breaths. So I lie. I don’t want to poison her day. I tell her what she wants to hear.
So this makes me a liar, doesn’t it? It seems that so long as I am speaking, I’m probably lying, without even knowing it. The doctor asks me where I was born, and wherever I say could potentially be a lie. I run into situations like this all the time.
One of my favorite authors, Paulo Coehlo, writes that a Warrior of the Light does not lie. Maybe I’m being too literal, but I fail to see how this is possible. So I’m hopeful for some advise from my readers, or from anyone. What are the defining factors of an honest person?
I spent the afternoon recently with my mother and grandmother─who I refer to normally as “my two mothers”──and we discussed whether anyone is honest. I brought up the point that so much of what we say is either based on perception or, on standard stock─phrase─statements which essentially comply with what the listeners expects to hear. If a nice elderly woman in the waiting room of the doctor’s office tells me what a beautiful day it is, and then asks for my opinion, I probably won’t tell her that it’s so humid outside that I’m having to swallow my air in gulps rather than breaths. So I lie. I don’t want to poison her day. I tell her what she wants to hear.
So this makes me a liar, doesn’t it? It seems that so long as I am speaking, I’m probably lying, without even knowing it. The doctor asks me where I was born, and wherever I say could potentially be a lie. I run into situations like this all the time.
One of my favorite authors, Paulo Coehlo, writes that a Warrior of the Light does not lie. Maybe I’m being too literal, but I fail to see how this is possible. So I’m hopeful for some advise from my readers, or from anyone. What are the defining factors of an honest person?
Introduction
This blog is an exciting new forum for me to interact with my readers. As a self-published author my intent is to discuss and expound on my books, my life, and about the world around us. Real soon I hope to have my new website up and running, where I’ll post short-stories and essays, so as to give people a better understanding of who I am. I know that some writers enjoy discussing private moments in their forums, but I can’t promise too much of that─I’m a very private person. That being said, writing is very important to me. I dabble in essays and short -stories, but for me, a novel is the quintessential expression of humanity’s interaction with itself. The characters are people we know, people who have helped us to better know ourselves. If you don’t already know─then you will when you sample my writing─I write about organized crime, corruption, and man’s darker side. maybe we share some of the same opinions or fundamental beliefs, have held the same victories or pains, and maybe we laugh about the same things. I’m looking forward to reader participation, as I hope to bring you opinions, views, and feelings into my work as I continue to grow as a writer.
What I care about most: Humanity. It might seem overly general. Maybe people would expect me to say to family, or friends, or if they’ve read my work─wealth or power. I admit, my subject matter is dark. But only because I am one who has literally had to walk through the darkness to find the light. I’ve spent a lot of time around suffering─poverty, drug and alcohol addictions, victims of violence, child neglect and abuse─and the general indifference that surrounds so much of it. I’ve seen and lived with these problems throughout the United States, and Mexico, and it has turned my way of thinking upside down so many times that I feel I’ve had to literally reinvent myself more than once just to cope with the magnitude by which so many suffer. Like many, for a time, I was indifferent to the many facets of human suffering. But as it so often happens, the universe shifted and I was no longer holding a winning hand. In what felt like waking to a horrid nightmare I lost a wife and daughter─my life at the time─in an instant. An event that forever altered the trajectory of my life. The wealth, the power, and the persona that had occupied such a high pedestal in my life became as meaningless to me as life itself. Finding the motivation to continue onward became as onerous as breathing through a coffee straw. I suddenly realized that I wasn’t better than anyone else; fundamentally, I was as vulnerable to life’s vicissitudes as the next; maybe more so. My loss, however served a greater purpose─if there is such a thing. Everyone’s life has tough moments. But the happiness we experience and share in overcoming these moments far outweighs the pain, the sorrow, and the worry. I have learned to be uplifted by my failures, as much if not more than by my triumphs. Some would call it fruitless and baneful to have spent so much time contemplating what is no longer and forever past. I disagree. We can surely move on, but it is futile to believe that we can ever truly forget. The past has led us to the present moment, and will always be an unrelenting reminder of where and who we have been. Both the past and the present serve as stepping-stones to our futures; one is the beacon that warns while the other is the rudder that guides. Together they ensure our continual forward progress. Without one or the other we would merely be adrift in the sea of life, shipwrecked without hope of rescue.
As many of you are undoubtably aware, there are few things harder than losing a loved one─much less two. My loss, however, has opened my eyes to an inexplicable truth: like death, loss is part of life. Adversity has become a good friend. One who has taught me the value of humility, and the joy of compassion.
I live a very secluded life. By immersing myself in my subject matter I hope to bring authenticity to my writing. Doing so is dangerous, I realize, but it’s what I hope will set me apart from others in my genre. Which is partly why I’ve chosen the avenue of self-publication over a large publishing house. Publicity tours, book signing sessions, or any public exposure would be counterintuitive to my agenda as a writer. I interact with dangerous people, people who trust me, and though my writing might very well incite them to treat me differently, I continue to strive onward I hope that as my readers you will understand and appreciate this.
What I care about most: Humanity. It might seem overly general. Maybe people would expect me to say to family, or friends, or if they’ve read my work─wealth or power. I admit, my subject matter is dark. But only because I am one who has literally had to walk through the darkness to find the light. I’ve spent a lot of time around suffering─poverty, drug and alcohol addictions, victims of violence, child neglect and abuse─and the general indifference that surrounds so much of it. I’ve seen and lived with these problems throughout the United States, and Mexico, and it has turned my way of thinking upside down so many times that I feel I’ve had to literally reinvent myself more than once just to cope with the magnitude by which so many suffer. Like many, for a time, I was indifferent to the many facets of human suffering. But as it so often happens, the universe shifted and I was no longer holding a winning hand. In what felt like waking to a horrid nightmare I lost a wife and daughter─my life at the time─in an instant. An event that forever altered the trajectory of my life. The wealth, the power, and the persona that had occupied such a high pedestal in my life became as meaningless to me as life itself. Finding the motivation to continue onward became as onerous as breathing through a coffee straw. I suddenly realized that I wasn’t better than anyone else; fundamentally, I was as vulnerable to life’s vicissitudes as the next; maybe more so. My loss, however served a greater purpose─if there is such a thing. Everyone’s life has tough moments. But the happiness we experience and share in overcoming these moments far outweighs the pain, the sorrow, and the worry. I have learned to be uplifted by my failures, as much if not more than by my triumphs. Some would call it fruitless and baneful to have spent so much time contemplating what is no longer and forever past. I disagree. We can surely move on, but it is futile to believe that we can ever truly forget. The past has led us to the present moment, and will always be an unrelenting reminder of where and who we have been. Both the past and the present serve as stepping-stones to our futures; one is the beacon that warns while the other is the rudder that guides. Together they ensure our continual forward progress. Without one or the other we would merely be adrift in the sea of life, shipwrecked without hope of rescue.
As many of you are undoubtably aware, there are few things harder than losing a loved one─much less two. My loss, however, has opened my eyes to an inexplicable truth: like death, loss is part of life. Adversity has become a good friend. One who has taught me the value of humility, and the joy of compassion.
I live a very secluded life. By immersing myself in my subject matter I hope to bring authenticity to my writing. Doing so is dangerous, I realize, but it’s what I hope will set me apart from others in my genre. Which is partly why I’ve chosen the avenue of self-publication over a large publishing house. Publicity tours, book signing sessions, or any public exposure would be counterintuitive to my agenda as a writer. I interact with dangerous people, people who trust me, and though my writing might very well incite them to treat me differently, I continue to strive onward I hope that as my readers you will understand and appreciate this.
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