Austin McMurria – LikeTheDew.com http://likethedew.com A journal of progressive Southern culture and politics Wed, 14 Nov 2018 14:35:35 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=4.9.8 http://likethedew.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/04/cropped-DewLogoSquare825-32x32.png Austin McMurria – LikeTheDew.com http://likethedew.com 32 32 Ivory soap vs. Drano http://likethedew.com/2016/11/06/ivory-soap-vs-drano/ http://likethedew.com/2016/11/06/ivory-soap-vs-drano/#comments Sun, 06 Nov 2016 20:06:18 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=65519

Ivory Soap with Hillary hair vs Drano with Trump toupee

One says it can clean your face, your body, and prevent microbe borne disease.

The other focuses on sewage and promises to clean up all clogged systems, sewage related or not.

A contest was held to see which product was more popular.

When it was apparent that people would choose a clean face and body and disease prevention, the Drano producers decided to tout their product as a suppository laxative.

Still behind in popularity, Drano claimed to have special facial enhancement properties far superior to Ivory soap.

Drano still lagged behind.

An ex-plumber working at the patent office discovered that the circle around the “R” on Ivory’s registered trademark was oblong rather than a circle.

“Take this product from the shelves!” was the cry from the Drano people and all the plumbers in the land. Others cried out, “99 and 44/100% pure what?” Others claimed that Ivory didn’t float.

At last the Drano products pulled ahead in popularity.

Perhaps half of those in favor of Drano started using it as a facial cream and laxative. Most of the poisoning and burning killed them. Those who had survived were disfigured with permanently damaged digestive systems. They feared they would forever be thought deplorable.

The land had suffered a great misfortune having lost so many who had believed the absurd lies. As the Drano survivors lost their jobs and their healthcare, they looked to their government for help. Most of those in red states found employment benefits limited to as few as 12 weeks and their healthcare limited to the emergency room. They appealed to their disfigured representatives in Congress who vowed to repeal the healthcare law so the free market could help them, investigate the claims of Ivory soap, and lower taxes in order for the job creators to trickle on them.

Meanwhile those who continued washing with Ivory remained beautiful in all their shapes, sizes and colors – though regrettably, many had stopped-up pipes.

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Unh, hunh http://likethedew.com/2016/09/05/unh-hunh/ http://likethedew.com/2016/09/05/unh-hunh/#comments Mon, 05 Sep 2016 20:31:38 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=64896

Republican-God-Feat

Dylan mocked, “. . . with God on our side.”

The Boy Scouts award a “God and Country” merit badge.

Nick Searcy sloganed,  “God bless America – annd no place else !”

And those longing for the “good old days” tend to lean to the right side of the political spectrum embracing “Guns and God.”

But who is this God?

And does he belong to the Republican Party?

I say there is proof in Genesis, that He does.

Anthropologists and mythologists sometimes note that human “consciousness” evolved with the onset of human language.

Thinking that uses only images and memories of actions is often associated with the  unconscious mind, unless accompanied by thought.

In an effort to explain the history of the relationship God has with humankind, the book of Genesis tells the story of creation and the creation of Adam, and then as a second thought, Eve. (Kinda evokes a male-centric viewpoint right there.)

In that story, the tree producing “forbidden fruit” is known as the “tree of knowledge.”

The aforementioned anthropologists and mythologists sometime associate the exit from the garden in Genesis by God who punishes A & E by banishment . . . with the onset of “the conscious mind.”

Now, this God in Genesis surely would be Republican.

Women weren’t quite equal to men, and talk about anti-intellectualism – God Himself seemed to have created and ordained it.

So, I surely aint sayin’ Donald Trump is no Jesus, but the evidence points to the big fellar (Trump, of course) having full support of the Almighty!

Reckon the radical Islamists ain’t the only casters-out of infidels.

So my only question is after the election, “Will the New York Times be allowed to be printed in English, as well as Spanish, and will newspaper boys be issued special apparatuses for the purpose of flinging the news over the Mexican wall – should this wall be built taller than an arms throw?

Rumor has it that an Australian newspaper boy has already solved this problem and has shown proclivity in published content foreboding of his “old school” mentality combined with his native country’s famous aboriginal device.

His name: Rupert.

The device: a hieroglyphamerated boomerang!

Save

Save

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Ottessa, Eileen, Fyodor http://likethedew.com/2015/09/10/ottessa-eileen-fyodor/ http://likethedew.com/2015/09/10/ottessa-eileen-fyodor/#respond Thu, 10 Sep 2015 21:15:56 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=61491 Eileen is the darkest coming of age tale I have ever read. Excuse me, it's hardly that, but you try to tie a ribbon around a burp, or wrap copper wire around a springtail (collembola – distant cousin of a gnat). Eileen follows the life of a painfully plain 24-year-old girl working in a prison and serving as nursemaid for an alcoholic father...]]>

Ottessa, Eileen, Fyodor
Rather than tell you a story leading up to and offering rationale, let me just say Ottessa Moshfegh is the new Dostoyevsky.

Ottessa Moshfegh’s second novel Eileen is the darkest coming of age tale I have ever read. Excuse me, it’s hardly that, but you try to tie a ribbon around a burp, or wrap copper wire around a springtail (collembola – distant cousin of a gnat).

Eileen follows the life of a painfully plain 24-year-old girl working in a prison and serving as nursemaid for an alcoholic father. Eileen is an introvert with no self esteem, reinforced by a verbally abusive father, and her repellent environment at work. The narrator is the much older Eileen, after having escaped her hellish life.

The tone of the narrator is detached. The writing is delightful, liberating, and compelling despite the grim subject matter. Hardly any character is anything other than despicable and or boring. Also, it is odd, yet fitting that Eileen’s intellectual development superceded her emotional development. Aint we all like that?

After reading the book in two sittings (more like reclinings, fascinated and perplexed all the while as to why I was enthralled with the book, I sought out reviews for insight. The professional reviewers from the Times, the Paris Review, and , well, all the ones Sarah did not mention but we know she reads (Sarah Palin, of course) – rave about the work. All of the reviews I read shared my enthusiasm for the writing and went on to summarize the plot –  some even analyzing the characters circumstances.

Not satisfied that any of the reviews did more than scratch the surface, I went to bookseller’s websites to read reader reviews. Most reader reviews focused on the character of the protagonist, and those reviewers hated her. There were a few with well thought-out perspectives on the work. Some written enviably clearly and without the hubris of the literary reviews like “We look forward to Ms. Moshfegh’s maturation and her future work,” or “…astounding First Novel.” I enjoyed those reviews who saw well above the plot and characters. Nevertheless, I long to hear the reviewers who see the “giftedness” in Moshfegh’s work to describe more specifically the brilliance.

Einstein, Nietzsche, and Freud all praised Fyodor Dostoyevski’s “Brothers Karamozov” as one of the greatest works of literature probing the human psyche. So I read the book. I think there is a complicated relationship of the characters and the internal workings of everyone’s mind. So on some level I “get it.” I went on to fall in love with Dostoyevski’s Short Stories, most of them dark, yet, oddly, narrated in a mood something short of merriment; yes, even those told by tortured souls.

The mental minutia examined by the protagonist in Dostoyevski’s Notes from the Underground along with his excruciating insecurities reveals those unspoken thoughts no one really remembers thinking, yet after reading, might remember similar thoughts during the process of growing up.

Most great writers develop an intimate bond with their readers sharing innermost thoughts. So many odd, outlandish, original voices tell worlds of fabulous stories and give us all connections to “other minds.”

I think it is a well accepted notion that personal growth is something to be accomplished alone. I remember hearing “only in solitude does a soul find space to grow.”

Ottessa Moshfegh’s character, Eileen, lives an interior existence. The outer world she inhabits forces her deeper into herself. Her closest relative stays in a stupor, arising out of it only to hurl insults at her. She has no friends, nor pets, save a dead mouse in her exhaust-spewing automobile glove compartment. At work there is little humanity except suffering. Her memories are of awkwardness and a mother and sister who hated her. Home and work pile drive her deep into herself. The nonentity that she is, forces her to only identity with bodily fluids and functions. There is no lower platform upon which to form an identity.

If you read this gravity defying dark (and I hesitate to call it a comedy) comedy, you might just burst out laughing at some low point of described pathetic human action and immediately feel guilty or mean spirited. The book has you in control, though the author and Eileen herself won’t be present to gloat.

All the reviewers I’ve read, including my introduction to this work in a radio interview by Scott Simon of Ottessa Moshfegh, refer to actions by Eileen and an accomplice as a “crime.”

I call it heroism.

I shall give you a rest now, but the tortured soul’s resilience and quite possibly it’s Superiority over all conscious thought shall be on my mind, independent of my proclivity to over state and drool, drizzle, and pose as some pedantic nincompoop.

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Chickens Oats and Coals http://likethedew.com/2011/10/26/chickens-oats-and-coals/ http://likethedew.com/2011/10/26/chickens-oats-and-coals/#comments Wed, 26 Oct 2011 22:24:03 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=31813 about five in the morning
the fire in the wood stove
settles down to its last embers

my friend who loves rib eyes
told me a good eye of chuck
is now his favorite

meanwhile out of the blue a new trend
popped up raising chickens
for their eggs

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Golf Balls in With Chicken Eggsabout five in the morning
the fire in the wood stove
settles down to its last embers

my friend who loves rib eyes
told me a good eye of chuck
is now his favorite

meanwhile out of the blue a new trend
popped up raising chickens
for their eggs

after one of Lola’s feet was found
with bloody feathers stuck to it
in Carl the shepherd’s mouth
Joe retaliated
he put some golf balls in
a couple of the hens nests
and patched the racoon entry
with heavy wire mesh
the snake ate the golf ball
the coon lost his pass

it’s amazing how just a little molasses makes raw oats
seem like a big ole oatmeal cookie
not as crunchy or toasty as granola
but delicious and chewy

its a good thing those rich hearty embers can’t bank their own coals
and refuse to lend themselves out to the new wood
trying to get caught up
otherwise the fire’d go out

i don’t know
just sayin’

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Phone it in http://likethedew.com/2011/09/09/phone-it-in/ http://likethedew.com/2011/09/09/phone-it-in/#comments Fri, 09 Sep 2011 11:50:35 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=30171 By the time kids announce their first runaway from home at age five or six, most already have backpacks. A generation or two ago we made "hobo poles" by wrapping up belongings in a towel or handkerchief and tying it onto the end of a stick to be slung over the shoulder.

Most parents will delight in recalling their son or daughter's early childhood brush with independence.  Most parents assist with bagged sandwiches, flashlights, and fruit snacks - some include a favorite toy or storybook. One jokester friend of mine told me how he included a whistle in his sons luggage. It was for protection. Against ghosts, monsters, and the occasional wolf.

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By the time kids announce their first runaway from home at age five or six, most already have backpacks. A generation or two ago we made “hobo poles” by wrapping up belongings in a towel or handkerchief and tying it onto the end of a stick to be slung over the shoulder.

Most parents will delight in recalling their son or daughter’s early childhood brush with independence.

Most parents assist with bagged sandwiches, flashlights, and fruit snacks – some include a favorite toy or storybook.

One jokester friend of mine told me how he included a whistle in his sons luggage. It was for protection. Against ghosts, monsters, and the occasional wolf.

Some kids outright change their minds at the door, while stories abound of snickering parents peeping from slits in curtains at their children sulking in the yard sitting on stumps or lawn chairs or hiding behind trunks of trees in the driveway until they change their minds.

Teaching a child respect can get dicey when you have given a child perhaps too much, by treating the child as an adult. My son stays astounded at a high percentage of teachers who seem “out to get him” and who fail to answer his questions when voiced in an even toned rational query.

After warnings, parent teacher conferences, in and out of school suspensions, and some valiant efforts to pull up slews of zero’s on un-submitted assignments to passing grades, I decided to stop driving three hours to his mother’s house for conferences. This year my son and I agreed that he would come live with me and that we would both work on our past errors. He is fourteen and enrolled in an “award winning” high school as a ninth grader. Having learned to value rational thought, and compose logically reasoned homilies concerning various issues (usually pertaining to his liberties), it was not long before my own powers of persuasion became outgunned. The fine line between respectful disagreement and arrogance has eluded the boy.

So I demanded he write the sentence, “Because I said so is reason enough to obey,” one hundred times.

Texting: Because I said so is reason enough to obey - licensed from iStock and customised for LikeTheDew.com He complied. By texting my phone. Fifty six times. Then twenty times more.

My bad. It was late and he promised to finish the final twenty four in the morning.

In the morning on the surface he was composed. Underneath he seethed. He refused to complete the assignment. He called his Mom.

Since my son’s mother has legal custody, she decided that home schooling will solve the problem of an angel child being forcefully metamorphosed into a mindless conformist robot by educational automatons.

So I called her bluff. “If the teachers who teach each of six subjects are not as well versed in their fields of expertise as you are” I told her, “then have at it – you teach the boy.”

So a sandwich, a flashlight, a change of clothes, and just for fun, a whistle await the boy. Not really. Actually a pretty fair alternative awaits him. The guidance counselor at the high school I withdrew my son from assures me that the new online cyberschools can and do turn out well educated students.

My son will sink or swim. No lectures to pay attention to, he will read everything he needs to know instead of having it explained in class.

And all my love, advice, discipline, and camaraderie?

I’ll phone it in.

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Alice in Tigerland http://likethedew.com/2010/03/15/alice-in-tigerland/ http://likethedew.com/2010/03/15/alice-in-tigerland/#respond Mon, 15 Mar 2010 21:38:11 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=8435

mad hatter starring Tiger WoodsPatent Office, may we help you?

Yes, I’d like to register a meme, but perhaps I am in the wrong place.

Go on.

Well, I might think I need to be at the Copyright Office.

Wait a minute, you might think or you think you might?

Does it matter?

No, I don’t think.

I was afraid of that.

What?

Nothing.

I’m not supposed to tell you this, but…

But what?

Never mind.

As I was saying, I would like to patent a meme.

I’m listening.

Thank you. The meme is as follows, “Size Matters – Logic Doesn’t” am I in the right place?

Is that part of the meme?

No.

Thank heavens, no good deed goes unpunished.

What do you mean by that?

Well, being in the right place is always confusing.

I see, you were about to send me down to Real Property?

Yes , indeed … And what is the purpose of the new meme? By the way, this size thing may infringe upon “too big to fail” or even “too large a portion of the economy to regulate.”

Well, I just saw Alice and I think this meme sort of distills it’s meaning.

You mean “her meaning,” don’t you? And wasn’t Johnny Depp brilliant now that he is out of the closet?

Closet?

Yes, his swish side from “Pirates” and “Chocolate” entirely evaporated.

I always suspected he was heterosexual.

So, what did you say was the purpose of this meme?

Multi-purpose, I suppose.

So it’s a supposition?

No, actually I sort of wanted to deposit the phrase long term.

Like in a repository?

Yes, like in kind of an adage, saw, maxim, aphorism warehouse.

There is no supposition repository here. For that you need the pharmaceutical division.

What?

We abreve and contract here, and what you’ve got on your hands is a suppository.

Don’t you mean democracy?

I see your point, cramming something through. Let’s see, where are you from?

South Carolina.

If you hurry, you can register this meme under “Alternate Subversive Governments.”

Look, this is only a phrase. Before digital copyright confusion I would simply have gone to the Copyright Office.

I understand your quandary. Believe me it gets confusing around here.

You mean since the decision that Corporations could vote?

No, no, no, long before that – when the Justice Department bought the financial sector.

Just after the entertainment industry took over the news industry?

Right, I get your drift, sometime after the coal lobby moved into the EPA offices.

Yes, I remember. Those Texas spendthrifts bought the word conservative from this very department.

Wait, didn’t they use “Neo-Con”?

Now that’s an old con.

Hee, hee, hee, I guess I don’t need a license, then, do I after all.

Ho, ho, ho, not to drive – at least, like Tiger Woods.

Where will all this end?

Probably at the Masters.

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Dirty Harry Vs. Analysis Paralysis http://likethedew.com/2010/02/21/dirty-harry-vs-analysis-paralysis/ http://likethedew.com/2010/02/21/dirty-harry-vs-analysis-paralysis/#comments Sun, 21 Feb 2010 23:52:19 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=8050 I opened up my e-mail from my children's dentist and found what was presumably some back-slappin' humor.

This one was different from most others received from the same source. (I have asked several similar e-mail spammers to take me off their mail-lists. But I never opted out of this mailing,

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I opened up my e-mail from my children’s dentist and found what was presumably some back-slappin’ humor.

This one was different from most others received from same source. (I have asked several similar e-mail spammers to take me off their mail-lists. But I never opted out of this mailing, even though I have endured lots of disgusting whacko hate humor from the same source.) This one was finally tolerable, and in fact had me laughing at myself, and at both sides of the deeply divided political spectrum.

The intent of the joke was to dishonor all but Dirty and Dirtier Harry, but even Clint Eastwood showed us the folly of “shoot first” when Sean Penn shot an innocent Tim Robbins character in the movie, “Mystic River.”

Furthermore, as Robert Frost once noted, “A liberal is a man too broadminded to take his own side in a quarrel.”* And how, painfully do we now witness how difficult consensus is among progressives?

So let both sides each own their own folly as shown in the following attempted humor.

Are you a Democrat, a Republican, or a Southerner?

Here is a little test that will help you decide. The answer can be found by posing the following question: You’re walking down a deserted street with your wife and two small children. Suddenly, an Islamic terrorist with a huge knife locks eyes with you. You are carrying a Kimber 1911 cal. 45 ACP, and you are an expert shot. What do you do?

Democrat’s Answer:

Well, that’s not enough information to answer the question!
Does the man look poor or oppressed?
Have I ever done anything to him that would inspire him to attack?
Could we run away?
What does my wife think?
What about the kids?
Could I possibly swing the gun like a club and knock the knife out of his hand?
What does the law say about this situation?
Does the pistol have appropriate safety built into it?
Why am I carrying a loaded gun anyway, and what kind of message does this send to society and to my children?
Is it possible he’d be happy with just killing me?
Does he definitely want to kill me, or would he be content just to wound me?
If I were to grab his knees and hold on, could my family get away while he was stabbing me?
Should I call 9-1-1?
Why is this street so deserted?
We need to raise taxes, have a paint & weed day.
Can we make this a happier, healthier street that would discourage such behavior?
I need to debate this with some friends for a few days and try to come to a consensus.
This is all so confusing!

Republican’s Answer:
BANG!

Southerner’s Answer:
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG ! BANG! BANG! BANG! Click… (Sounds of reloading) BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Daughter: ‘Nice grouping, Daddy! Were those the Winchester Silver Tips or Hollow Points?’
Son: ‘Can I shoot the next one?!’
Wife: ‘You ain’t taking that to the taxidermist!

__________
* Frost later revised this to “extreme liberal” (in a speech at the University of Georgia). The quote also appeared in William Ernest Hocking’s What Man Can Make of Man (1942), but he doesn’t provide original attribution, either.

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Dialogue vs. Diatribe http://likethedew.com/2010/02/16/dialogue-vs-diatribe/ http://likethedew.com/2010/02/16/dialogue-vs-diatribe/#respond Tue, 16 Feb 2010 20:25:13 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7978

Pablo Picasso Portrait de l’homme à l’épée et à la fleur 1969. © 2009 Estate of Pablo Picasso / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York, Courtesy Gagosian GalleryI just can’t seem to arrange the food of thought in small enough bites for others to swallow reality as I seeze. It is jussa conundrum of collage anyway, all them molecules and atoms runnin’ circles round theyselves. And life? That stuff getsum ku-Razie. And politics? Right now, it’s a drug making everything appear as Good or Evil.

Sorry Bob (my fictionalized demonic mentor, the mean father I never had). Sorry if “the Sublime” gives you a headache. I love you anyway. After all half the world lives in fear their take on reality ain’t quite right, so they hold on so tight that they squeeze all the humanity out of truth. Or grab someone else’s truth. Or just get fascinated with typing or grammar or if gifted and properly trained sign up as soldier for some industry.

Pablo Picasso revealed to an interviewer once that part of his method and motivation was reaction. Reaction against something. Often, he continued, he reacted against his own last body of work. It shocked me ‘cuz “reactionary” so often described a dull witted obsessive. My bad. Them’s two different words.

With no further ado, Robbie, I dedicate, this poem, doggey as it may be, to you. And if you truly love me too, then show it. Translate whatever it is I am trying to say and just can’t… into simple prose.

But don’t post anything original here, unless you are tougher of hyde than a Jekyl Island island aligator. Peace, brother.

Vain Wrath
Hath much spoiled
peace
and as notions of deity
slay by fanaticism’s intolerance
of deviation
so doth justice and virtue
imprison if adopted
without discretion
Humor, on the other hand
the seductress of vigor
gliding with grace
from bondage toward lofty detachment
As giggles mimic champagne bubbles
So do troubles doused with laughter
Rise to the surface and burst
Kissing on whiff noses
Inhaled and savored
Long past scent
In memory
So toast
and sip
when over-grounded
after all
a stumble oft prevents a fall

__________

Image Credit: Pablo Picasso Portrait de l’homme à l’épée et à la fleur 1969. © 2009 Estate of Pablo Picasso / Gagosian Gallery

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If it ain’t broke, yet http://likethedew.com/2010/02/10/if-it-aint-brokeyet/ http://likethedew.com/2010/02/10/if-it-aint-brokeyet/#comments Wed, 10 Feb 2010 10:14:04 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7873 The rationalist, in seeking clarity, employs the services of an oculist.

The ideologue seeks clarity also, but prefers the services of an occultist.

Recently, a friend asked me, "where does all this Southern Pride come from? I have grown up here and lived here all my life, and I just don't get it! What do Southerners think they have to be proud of?" Well I think some of it comes from being poor, still making do and still dancing a jig occasionally, as we champion ourselves for surviving.

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The rationalist, in seeking clarity, employs the services of an oculist.

The ideologue seeks clarity also, but prefers the services of an occultist.

Recently, a friend asked me, “where does all this Southern Pride come from? I have grown up here and lived here all my life, and I just don’t get it! What do Southerners think they have to be proud of?” Well I think some of it comes from being poor, still making do and still dancing a jig occasionally, as we champion ourselves for surviving.

Now I hear ya saying, “that ain’t only the South you’re describing,” whichiz true, nevertheless we’ve adopted it.

While I despise ignorance, being a Southerner, I have “family values,” therefore I tend to love idiots and tyrants. The former deriving from self-acceptance, the latter from having strict parents. The authoritarian personality is pervasive in the” Land of Cotton.”

“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” contains so much practical wisdom, especially for mechanical klutzes like myself, it seems a truism. However, in defaulting to this reasoning, we sometimes deny and whitewash. Our positive perspective and the “make do” attitude reinforces our Southern oversight. One of our greatest common virtues is to be thankful for what we have and when under funded. “Us Southerners” have tended toward ingenuity. (I suggest a visit to Cullowhee N.C. to the Museum of the Mountaineer, as proof).

However, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” sometimes slides downhill. Our “can do” outruns our prudence and erodes into “if it ain’t broke yet, don’t fix it”

Why iszat?

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Questions for the rationalists http://likethedew.com/2010/02/06/questions-for-the-rationalists/ http://likethedew.com/2010/02/06/questions-for-the-rationalists/#comments Sun, 07 Feb 2010 00:35:09 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7836
  • Why do so many members of a community swallow irrational beliefs?
  • How does dogma prevail so often untested?
  • Corruption, perhaps? Paid for and promulgated by special interests?
  • Are the intermediaries to blame?
  • What is meant by intermediaries?
  • Are intermediaries always unpaid blatherers- ecstatic fetishists sated only by auditory self-titillation; or are they paid indirectly?
  • Can we really surmise that fear draws disciples of the blatherers into auditory addiction?
  • What if humorists could gather and medicalize the behavior of blatherers?
  • Isn't medicalization a process where behavior is described as being part of a pattern of behavior, and tautollogically described as caused due to being part of the pattern described?
  • Why humorists?
  • ]]>
    1. Questions for rationalistsWhy do so many members of a community swallow irrational beliefs?
    2. How does dogma prevail so often untested?
    3. Corruption, perhaps? Paid for and promulgated by special interests?
    4. Are the intermediaries to blame?
    5. What is meant by intermediaries?
    6. Are intermediaries always unpaid blatherers- ecstatic fetishists sated only by auditory self-titillation; or are they paid indirectly?
    7. Can we really surmise that fear draws disciples of the blatherers into auditory addiction?
    8. What if humorists could gather and medicalize the behavior of blatherers?
    9. Isn’t medicalization a process where behavior is described as being part of a pattern of behavior, and tautologically described as caused due to being part of the pattern described?
    10. Why humorists?
    11. Are those who have medicalized behaviors in the past untrustworthy?
    12. How many patterns of behavior did medical authorities conclude were maladies twenty years ago?
    13. How many exist today?
    14. Have we (mankind) biologically fundamentally changed so much in twenty years, or has our environment changed so much as to facilitate manifestation of these newly described maladies?
    15. Why not use medicalization for political change, since supporters of false medicalization are the same group as those who defend the status quo of growing neo-fascism?
    16. Is it too utopian or just too good to be possible to haul off certain corpulent blatherers off to treatment for compulsive truth twisting or obsessive fear mongering?
    17. Why is the quasi-philosophical author, Ayn Rand, dead but still selling at record levels today?
    18. Could it be that her tenets are selectively understood by those obsessed with the dogma of laissez faire ?
    19. Could one of these diehard dogmatics be an Australian media magnate?
    20. Are rationalists helpless when challenged by pervasive propaganda?
    21. What if the dogma driving a juggernaut of mass discipleship in said dogma could be challenged?
    22. What if the nucleus of misunderstanding could be lanced like a puss laden boil?
    23. Has Ayn Rand addressed the issue of misinformation or disinformation?
    24. To what does she ascribe empowerment of irrational thought?
    25. Is she correct in her assertion: “By its nature, the overtly irrational cannot rely on the use of persuasion and must ultimately resort to force in order to prevail.” ?
    26. What? Does the author assume mankind is rational, or is she describing a utopia removed from the influence of history and or written history?
    27. Could Ayn Rand’s above statement be more of an epistemological analysis focusing on irrationality and its inevitable demise over a long period of time?
    28. What about superstition? Or is the continued promulgation of superstition always accompanied by advocates with axes to grind and dogs in the fight?
    29. How would Ayn Rand address the success of anti-trust legislation in eliminating monopolistic tyranny?
    30. Why indeed do dogmatists align so often with non-secular institutions?
    31. Is Ayn Rand simply wrong, or does the statement “By its nature, the overtly irrational cannot rely on the use of persuasion and must ultimately resort to force in order to prevail ” lead us to a closer examination and exploration of what “force” is involved in the promulgation of contemporary neo-fascist thought?
    32. Is the “force” behind promulgation of neo-fascism a grass roots movement, or are there misguided leaders whose dogmatism confuses their ability to reason?
    33. Should the front lines of the reformation of modern mindlessness be focused on its honest, yet misguided leadership, or in assault on irrationality by addressing the hordes of the misguided?
    34. Or should the misinformation be ignored and the validity of rationality be promoted?
    35. Shouldn’t we as rationalists address all of these issues systematically instead of forever jousting independently? Does not such jousting get instant media misrepresentation and served up as fodder for scorn?
    36. Or should we surrender to the inevitability of the commercialization of fear?
    37. Can the head of the monster juggernaut of neo-fascism be found and slain?
    38. Are we back to jousting with windmills if this “head of the monster” is seen as irrationality?
    39. Or, could rationalists navigate through the trap of theological protectionism to expose neo-fascist thought as dogma enabled and dogma as irrational?
    40. Could anti-government sentiment be tapped into after the real forces that govern (special interests) be exposed?
    41. Could we learn from politicians such as Huey Long and strategists such as Lee Atwater ?
    42. Which tactic works better in the long run, the honest digging of dirt, or the shameless assault through lies?
    43. Does the tedium of organization for reform dissuade most rationalists due to their inherently passive nature?
    44. Should reform be abandoned and revolution be considered and strategized?
    45. What about wine and cheese parties, beer bashes, and cocktail parties, or just java jams to counter all these teabag orgies of misguided simpletonnery? After all, when this country was founded beer and bourbon consumption per capita was higher than it is today.
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    Can’t sleep http://likethedew.com/2010/02/03/cant-sleep/ http://likethedew.com/2010/02/03/cant-sleep/#comments Thu, 04 Feb 2010 00:12:27 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7801

    Can't SleepAhh, he thought, not a lot accomplished today. But Jake Gardenia’s late night talk show was over so his restive spirit could ebb, and sweet awaked-ness would soon subside into the sand where  periwinkles, the pastel and the garish living porcelain tentacles of ongoing unconscious wisdom would burrow into the beach leaving the glazed surface freshly wet from the last wave to dry off during low tide.

    Even the unfixed drippy faucet of unfinished business was almost inaudible. The chiropractic pillow wedged comfort to his creaking neck down his spine promising supine solace that comes after a mile or two that afternoon of trodding through the woods near the river. Ice stormed ground had melted and turned to mud. A slick and slippery coating re-moistened over fallen leaves that had been coated a month before when the Saluda River burped over her banks leaving a pluff mud veneer below the bluff on which his dreams, a cool modern miniature skyscraper of a cabin, would come spring, be couched after the interior space was paneled and he and his young son moved in.

    Comforter wrapped for the midwinter snooze. A certain and predictable somnolence soon was sure to set in. With delight, he reviewed his drill for the morning routine – smart phone’s alarm feature programmed. It was settling to know that in case he did not rise perturbed with an irksome – yet fun to scratch itch – to jot down his notions into apple notebook – a crisp breakfast on many a morning – the synthesized beeper would rouse him.

    Thelma and Louise driving off a cliff like our economyOK, he promised that stumbled-upon idea from this morning – Thelma and Louise as allegory of the cliff diving dead-end our economy was headed for. Could be fleshed out upon morning light … right. The pillow felt so soft, yet supportive. Remembering that Thelma was the professional coming to the realization that Louise, the apt and abler, yet laid-off assembly line trouble shooter, would no longer be able to afford her services. Right… in the morning. The tedium of sorting out the differences, the dependencies, and the odd fatalistic confidences these women (a doctor and an auto worker) shared, was the last trifle of rebellion from sleep, yet feeding drowsiness through a desire to postpone and escape.

    Proud that within the sound of the name of Thelma was a pre-reverberation that once coupled with the name of the saintly, yet so Zeno tinkerer, from almost antiquity positing pseudo syllogisms. That defender of the faith, Saint Anselm, Thelma Anselm? Nah, just Thelma.

    Then the thought that flowing through him come morning sun might be clouded over from weariness should he fail to rest now:

    Thelma and LouiseMight as well, he thought. Seize the kernel of vexation brewing a boil-over of can’t sleep and even if the indigestion of impending disappointment (is that guilt?) due to laziness (ah, that is) did not foment fruition for his plot to parody our nations future in dialog, rather than his usual diatribe. Well, that was OK. Sleep would simply overtake him at his task if unsuccessful. For what is more boring than failure and what greater sedative than boredom?

    Good night Thelma. Good night Louise.

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    Fair minded Republican http://likethedew.com/2010/02/01/fair-minded-republican/ http://likethedew.com/2010/02/01/fair-minded-republican/#comments Mon, 01 Feb 2010 23:03:34 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7742 I am not an atheist, but I should be. I am not a liberal, but the folks who call themselves conservatives and continue to be the vociferous minority of my party disguise their corruption by wrapping it in a banner they call neo-conservative.]]>

    I miss my Mom. She is gone. She was like many I have met, a reasonable fair-minded Republican. She once said of George  W. Bush while shaking her head, “Bless his heart, he’s just way over his head!” Recently I imagined what she might say about the political state of the Union and decided to write it down.

    Barry Goldwater - Mr. ConservativeI am not an atheist, but I should be.

    I am not a liberal, but the folks who call themselves conservatives and continue to be the vociferous minority of my party disguise their corruption by wrapping it in a banner they call neo-conservative.

    The reason I am not an atheist, despite the embarrassment and disgust I feel by being associated with religion, especially Christianity, is that spirituality is primarily a personal pursuit, not a group activity, so I can do it without an alliance. While it’s nice to have a place to “worship” and the social support of like minded souls, there are hidden pitfalls which for many become distractions from spirituality. So I channel (wait, wait,not that kind of channeling) my spirituality independently.

    Why disgust for religion? Evaluate the benefit versus harm induced by religion historically. Countless souls saved. Hoorah! The murder and plunder of the Crusades, Imperialism, and the Spanish Inquisition. Boo, hiss. Evaluate the fear and hate trumped up by religious leaders in contemporary times. (Smiting by Bob Jones, prayer for the death of Sandra Day O’ Conner, and the distillation of Christian beliefs into rancor fomented by two issues, abortion and homosexuality.) So on balance, too much red ink, I view organized religion a net detriment to the planet.

    When Queen Elizabeth (I) of England discovered distractions from her spirituality due to the behavior of her church (excommunication and ordained assassination plots against her) she was in a unique position to uphold her spiritual values by creating her own church, more or less.

    Do we need a new political party based on classical conservative values?

    In order to ramrod the passage of a new healthcare bill, the Democrats invoke the need for Lyndon Johnson, who worked behind the scenes.

    In order to save the Republican party from those who have networked and brokered power for far too long, we need a Barry Goldwater.

    Goldwater articulated conservatism and paved the way for the Reagan Revolution. At one time he represented the right wing of his party. Now he is called a liberal. He, or someone of his stature is desperately needed to extirpate true conservative values from the Pharisees who hambone the moderates into submission. In defense of the quiet moderates, they have gone along for the ride, and enjoyed success, too. This has made it hard to apply the brakes onto the downhill erosion of classical conservative values. (It should be to some degree a comfort for moderate conservatives to have witnessed a similar shedding of core values by the Clinton team during the last Democratic presidential primary.)

    A favorite quote from Goldwater came after Jerry Falwell spouted off one of his usual “Every good Christian should…” diatribes. Goldwater responded “Every good Christian ought to kick Falwell right in the ass.”

    I shook hands with Barry Goldwater in 1964 on his whistle-stop at my city’s brand new jet airport. The same thing happened to him that happened to John McCain when he ran against George W. Bush. The Republican power brokers labeled him a “loose cannon.” Listen, if a junior senator from Illinois can rise up in three years to defeat the entire Democratic Machine, we can do the same. Barry… Barry? Are you out there ?

    //www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mfg4N5A-ydQ

    Barry Goldwater on the role of conservatism – Firing Line with William F. Buckley

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    The Trojan Horse, the Straw Dog & the Snake in the Grass http://likethedew.com/2010/01/28/the-trojan-horse-the-straw-dog-the-snake-in-the-grass/ http://likethedew.com/2010/01/28/the-trojan-horse-the-straw-dog-the-snake-in-the-grass/#comments Fri, 29 Jan 2010 00:36:34 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7681 I come from the land down under," sticks in my mind over and over. And over. If stuck songs in the past are any example, I know it will go away. I did have one stick for more than a week, but at least it was continual, not continuous. So, "I come from the land down under" fleets around from hollow corner to vapid alcove of my brain, as I reflect upon my plight as a Sandlapper. Maybe it's because I've gotten hooked on readin' Jeff Cochran articles, but here comes another song bustin' in  – "It ain't Easy" in Ringo Star's voice. Soothe Carolina (as Fritz Hollings calls it) is perpetually Down, Out, Under (the literacy curve), Shootin' Off (remember Ft. Sumter) and Seized Up, seizing some sleazy moral high ground.]]>

    Graham, Sanford, Demint as themselvesI come from the land down under. But it ain’t Austraya. It’s South Carolina. And that song with the lyrics, “I come from the land down under,” sticks in my mind over and over. And over. If stuck songs in the past are any example, I know it will go away.

    I did have one stick for more than a week, but at least it was continual, not continuous. So, “I come from the land down under” fleets around from hollow corner to vapid alcove of my brain, as I reflect upon my plight as a Sandlapper.

    Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten hooked on readin’ Jeff Cochran articles, but here comes another song bustin’ in  – “It ain’t Easy” in Ringo Star’s voice.

    Soothe Carolina (as Fritz Hollings calls it) is perpetually Down, Out, Under (the literacy curve), Shootin’ Off (remember Ft. Sumter) and Seized Up, seizing some sleazy moral high ground.

    Currently our “holy trinity” of prophets from the craw of Everyman’s trifling’ gripes could be quite aptly named the “Trojan Horse,” the “Straw Dog” and the “Snake in the Grass.”

    Graham, Sanford, Demint in costumeThe “Straw Dog” got his Ted Copple on rising to power berating a “thong” in outrage he shared with a cigar, or for a cigar, I should say. Every day for more than a year his (now silent for similar foibles – think- but don’t cry for the Governor) outrage lured cameras from National Media as he filled Strom Thurmond’s big bigoted shoes strummin’ on his National Enquirer banjo. And there was then as there is now serious business to attend to in Washington. But instead of doing his job, this hayseed (should we say “linseed”?) slung muck from his soapbox leading the mob of frail railers against the last President to oversee an economic surplus. This guy was actually probably personally inner conflicted with the shocking sight of women in underpants, but let’s leave his own personal issues in the closet, or shelved as it were.

    The “Trojan Horse” rose through the ranks with rancor as well. Anti-gumbamunt, anti-graft, and pro family values, this whining would-be Patsy Cline rode his over starched shirt and tie to popularist no nonsense darlingism by pseudo fiscal conservatism til he ran out of jet fuel. This fop is still way too much in the slimelight to further discuss.

    And as for the “Snake in the Grass” – name me one positive suggestion this guy has ever made. His Only political dog and pony act is naysayin’ in an almost demented tone. Recently he wrote a bad check to God. That’s right, he recently borrowed the sanctity of his own deity to make false claims that God was an obstructionist. Within a prayer.

    So, while we in the land seemingly always down under strive for un-fouled political air, we remember and honor the Riley‘s, the Fritz‘s, and our current famous-everywhere-but-South Carolina champion of decency, James Clyburn. And pass it on – our garlic cheese grits are as magnificent as our mountain trails, our abundant lakeshores, beaches and blackwater river runs. And while we were the state that skewered John McCain (on Bob Jones sword, remember?), back when he was relevant and running against George the Second; we also were pivotal in the last presidential primary – keeping Hope alive.

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    To be the stonecutter http://likethedew.com/2010/01/25/to-be-the-stonecutter-2/ http://likethedew.com/2010/01/25/to-be-the-stonecutter-2/#comments Tue, 26 Jan 2010 00:54:18 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=7631

    Well it ain’t like i don’t know the English language. Nor how to slither and conjure. Words edgewise, that is, and images from out of the blue. It’s basic organization i really stumble on, occasionally.

    Sose i says, quite often to my own self; “Why don’t you get yer act together and write?”

    Now that i have logged more than fifty revolutions around the sun it’s about time to share the adventure through more than sporadic storytelling. I tell this to myself now, quite often. Earlier, when gleaning seventy eight records from antique shops all over the Skyline Drive while delivering oysters door to door, i told myself that i was building a bank of experiences that one day could be woven into some kind of novel. And in that novel i could scatter all my deep, broad, and free flowing ponderances.

    Then i contemplate the stonecutter. In the fable, he sought power and as we know, became, sequentially, the sun, the clouds, the mountain, and finally returned to the summit of all aptitude, (being a stonecutter). So living is what the writer transcribes, observing life from within an imaginary existence. The reader lives through his recollections. The reader lives many lives and travels virtually anywhere he chooses, without space-time limitations. But unless the reader reads on a train or a bus, he don’t go nowhere. The writer is limited by the obligation to toil bounded by one project at a time serving imaginatively as chief, cook, and bottlewasher in a one short of Mom and Pop outfit. So, in a stonecutter kinda sorta way, the ordinary liver of life is closer to the fountain of life, real world experience. But an unexamined existence, some say, ain’t worth livin’ neither. So just as the sun, the clouds, the mountain, the stone and the stone cutter are all connected, so too must the writer, reader, and doer be part of another such whole.

    I used to enjoy arranging words down on paper to fascinate myself in all kinds of ways. The origin of such word play is often a phrase i hear or utter myself. For instance, while at the accountant’s office the other day: “There’s nothing specious in all those deductions,” i told him, “though they were arrived at rather spuriously, recalled on the spur of the moment from lost records spurred on by the threat of great penalty.” My ranting consciousness sporadically takes a tear down alliteration lane and outruns my sense of purpose and focus on any and all tasks at hand. Where was i? Oh, yeah, ize gonna explain that earlier in life my dawdles were based on word rifts solely for my own entertainment. From time to time through all my spewing of what’s on my mind, certain people have urged me to write. Swollen with pride i waste the motivational complement and feed the incentive to my ego, imagining myself on talk shows like Chance Gardiner and at Walter Mitty book signings where i mingle with Nabokovian nubiles named Dolores.

    But i lie. Both in wait and on purpose, because i do constantly scribble. Lately it’s hunt and peck in awkward attempt to capture rich, colorful experiences. Should i serve the recollection as a soup or distill it into an aphorism?

    So you can call me Jack. Jack Leg. Of all trades – master of none. I have observed beauty bright as golden sunlight and subtle as a breeze from a passing negligee gentler than propwash from a gnat’s wing.

    That’s the rub, though. Like my pal who once rode an elevator with Sharon Stone – half the fun is in the sharing, the telling of the tale. But buying drinks to reconnoiter on barstools gets expensive time wise, health wise, and it ain’t free. So i guess i’ll continue horsing around with amateurish prose. Maybe that’s good since a paid professional is often derided as a prostitute and no one need pay me for such as that.

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    It Must Be Southern http://likethedew.com/2009/05/05/it-must-be-southern/ http://likethedew.com/2009/05/05/it-must-be-southern/#respond Tue, 05 May 2009 13:31:03 +0000 http://likethedew.com/?p=2114

    discloroxbotIt must be Southern, since I found these words inside an old timey amber bleach bottle on the periphery of a rest area (where dogs were assigned to relieve themselves) on the way to Charleston, SC, protruding from the mud where the land turned to swamp. The bottled was labeled X X X on folded notebook paper smudged and drooling under some scotch tape. I transcribed the note inside and am posting it below. My guess is it was written by a student. If anyone can identify it’s author (I’ve googgled and come up empty) let me know. I can’t decide whether to put it back or keep it, believing kismet sent it to me.

    Owing to its origin it must be Southern, so i felt compelled to share it here. Also the notes amorphous subject reminds me of the indescribable reverie when doting upon a Southern Springtime.

    The title was badly smudged, but i think it said: Celestial Resonance

    Celestial perhaps
    and maybe invisible
    hardly perceivable
    not quite discernible
    but oh so seemingly knowable

    and quite reasonably solely illusion

    irreducible yet quite multifaceted

    and in so many iterations does the occurrence of the probability of its palpability exude

    when embraceable maybe traceable

    to nowhere every time

    never irascible
    highly hide and go seekable

    weightless while seeming so formidable

    fomenting rapture
    fostering analysis
    nurturing nonsense
    felt in gut
    formless
    feasibly neither and both
    agony and bliss

    never f*cked with and always intercoursitudinal

    an end til arrived at then empty

    wispy reverence respects its mystery

    peerless unperceivable clarity
    until stared at directly

    in agreement with the above
    abominable to name

    wisely inscrutable
    yet so tempting to catch and quantify

    oh sure, one really does no harm referring to certain manifestations as
    utter mystery
    since such nomenclature
    admits defeat in utterance
    reducing defining to divining
    merely stuttering putterance

    primordially extra dimensional
    like the dot becoming an ever larger circle
    then growing smaller in circumference
    then just after becoming a dot again
    nowhere to be found

    which is how when trapped flatly within only two dimensions
    one might experience three
    when a sphere
    passes through ones plane

    ______________________

    Editor’s note: To protect our younger readers from seeing the actual spelling of words they are not supposed to say and that always makes them giggle, we altered the spelling of the “f” word in this post. Should you wish to view this post in its original form, please email your request to pundito@likethedew.com and, of course, remove your email spam filters.

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