From My Warm, Living Hands - Take My Gun… Please

“As I walk through

This wicked world
Searching for light in the darkness of insanity.

I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?
And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I want to know:
What's so funny about peace love & understanding?” – Elvis Costello

The overtly exaggerated and over the top rhetoric to immediately follow denotes satire, please keep your 9 millimeters safely holstered at all times.

Who would suspect that the unassuming, and enormously, egotistical practice of blogging could turn out to be a precarious and perilous pursuit? But alas, my prospective compadres, it is. For I’ve learned, of late, that some particular, pistol-packing people abhor me and the terrorism-train that they think I rode in on. Imagine innocent, guileless, loveable and accessible nycityman, simply wishing to pen creative prose articulating progressive polemics, is reviled by a gun powder-stained handful of dentally-challenged, unmatriculated, paragons of prejudice and the positivity of inbreeding - what could their possible provocations be? Rather than enduring the testiness and intemperance of those bearing bullets, Berettas and bayonets it would have been preferable perhaps to have annoyed anthropologists, frustrated florists or incensed incense salesmen, but, as with their odious images of Obama in white face, Obama as witchdoctor and Obama as Adolph, I am but their paper target, pinned to their backyard beech trees, fluttering in the breeze, awaiting the next squeeze of the trigger and the aimless aim of their 19^th century, misdirected malice. And feel free to take your figurative best shot for ballots triumph over bullets, pens over swords, and logic, facts and intelligence over the imperceptible penises that lead you, like divining rods, to amass armaments as Hugh Hefner hoards silicone-augmented, Midwestern farmers daughters.

In a previous post, I protested the concept of Gun Appreciation Day held, but a callous month, after the heartbreaking events in Newtown; and the unintentionally implied celebration of that tragedy and the thousands of gun deaths that regularly occur yearly in these United States. Responders, in numbers never before experienced, availed themselves of their 1^st Amendment rights to dispatch threatening treatises to this webpage.  By all evidence, they perceive reasonable approaches to limit gun violence, to keep automatic and semi-automatic assault weapons off our streets and out of the hands of mentally unstable residents, as the expiration of the 2^nd Amendment and the beginning of the big, bad, black-guy-lead, federal government commencing the confiscation of their cannons; Obama’s private, all-ebony army taking lead, with the New Black Panther Party (both members) and the Muslim Brotherhood providing support.  Suddenly, with these fictional, Fox-falsified hazards hanging over their tin-foiled festooned domes, these lions of liberty (exclusively for Christian, Caucasian Conservatives, of course) are no longer just 7/11 clerks, CPAs or Martinizing dry cleaners;  but brave, bold conquerors combating the Communist Kenyan, and safeguarding the freedoms of  the paltry percentage of the American populace that they deem to tolerate.  

To call these States of ours “United” often seems purely wishful thinking.  We are a nation of deep divides, presently fragmented between citizens who love this land and its inhabitants, who aspire to assure a safe and secure,  harmonious, happy, healthy future; and those minority of Americans who predominantly and primarily worship what they believe to be their God –given and Constitutional right to fire upon their fellow countrymen as often,  as rapidly and as efficiently as daydreamed in their John Wayne, Charles Bronson and Clint Eastwood reveries, with weapons and ammunition capacities designed and intended initially for military use. (Note to Tea-publicans, it is not actually factual  that God wrote the Constitution, is an American, or would favor any country or peoples over any other – that wouldn’t be particularly God-like, would it?)

In the case of the current Congress, too many inmates are running the asylum (on Bachmann, on Gohmert, on Cruz, and on Paul) and it seems increasingly unlikely that any significant gun legislation is going to succeed. Additionally, the further that healing-time passes from the horror of Sandy Hook, the less we hear about guns in the news, and the more citizens and legislators turn their attentions elsewhere.  Unfortunately, as has so often been the case, the Obama administration started from a place of weakness, indicating compromise and surrender before negotiations were even initiated. The President would like to reinstate the assault weapons ban (a God Reagan favorite) but doesn’t believe it achievable, and recent reports suggest that limits on rounds and even universal background checks may be on shaky ground - the latter, despite the fact that 92% of Americans favor it.

An alternate to the stagnation and uselessness of our chosen representatives and their financial fealty and loyalty to the deep pockets of corporate America, including those accessories to murder in the gun manufacturing field, is a declaration by the people. If the government refuses to act responsibly, it’s time that we the people, we who constitute this revolutionary government of the people, by the people, for the people, address this vital issue ourselves. The idea is simple and not, in any way, a lessening of the presumed scope and power of the 2nd Amendment but, if fortunate, could remove some of the 200 million guns from the nightstands and the closet shelves of America.  We, who have no desire or need for guns in our lives, just actively attempt to maintain that status, proudly proclaim it, and share the concept as encouragement for others to exist free of firearms as well.

"As a citizen of the United States of America I, _____________ hereby, voluntarily, relinquish my 2nd Amendment rights to keep and bear arms as -

1) Not being a member of a "well-regulated militia" I never actually had the right to begin with  

2) I have no wish to murder innocent, defenseless animals for barbaric "sport" or fun 

3) Statistics show that a gun in the home is 22 times more likely to be used against someone in the household than for their self-defense

 4) Being neither paranoid nor delusional, I harbor no fear of the Federal Government's black helicopters coming to get me. When finding disagreement with an office holder I will exercise my right to vote, in conjunction with those rights enumerated in the First Amendment, not the Second."

If so moved, please download and share

No doubt, most will think this pointless, feckless folly and the product of a mind who took one too many trips to Amsterdam. But, the seemingly, easy willingness of too many in this country to accept the occasional Columbine, Sandy Hook or Aurora; to sacrifice the lives of so many, including children, at the altar of the NRA, the gun manufacturers that they are paid to prostitute for, and in the supposed defense of freedoms and liberties that are not endangered is an indescribable obscenity. We are far too great a country and a society to accede to the Road Warrior, dystopian future outlined by those looking to profit from fear.

As Elvis Costello asks, (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love and Understanding?

Nobody Loves Me But My Mother, And She Could Be Jivin' Too - A Midlife in Cry-sis

A Needless and Melodramatic Tale of Self-Pity, Self-Absorption and Self-Involvement

I am the Very Model of a Modern-Day American

The challenge at hand - to espouse upon the travails, trials and tribulations of middle-age doldrums without weeping, whining and wailing; to do so devoid of dreary dullness, tireless tedium and short a slumbering stay for the reader in the gentle waiting arms of Morpheus, and to avoid the palpable perception of rampant egomania (as cries of “too late” resound throughout the land.)

No Pill’s Gonna’ Cure My Ill

My awareness of a potential midlife malady arose with a confluence of behavioral differences - bouts of lethargy and listlessness, frequent minor illnesses, moments of melancholy, persistent fatigue and sleepiness (even now, the clanging of an alarm prior to 3pm is an enhanced interrogation technique to me) lack of interest, lack of focus… (I’m sorry, what was I saying again?) lack of curiosity in toys and play, excessive shedding, increased number of hairballs and going outside the litter box.

Any comprehensive, or in this case any slapdash, scrutiny of such a subject requires some definition and explanation of the issue at hand, and so we turn to that ultimate source of information, wisdom and Danish pornography; that magical land accessible only through QWERTY; that enchanted kingdom where Palin remains relevant, Gingrich is a great thinker and Bachmann, sane; that mecca where felines reign and share insight in memes, “a place where dreams are born and time is never planned. It's not on any chart, you must find it with your heart” – the Never Never Land of the World Wide Web – here, from on-high, online, are some indications of a midlife crisis – play along with nycityman and let’s together discover how we fare.

“If you are going through a midlife crisis, you might experience a wide range of feelings, such as:

Discontent with life and/or the lifestyle that may have provided happiness for many years (yes)

Boredom with things/people that have hitherto held great interest and dominated your life (affirmative)

Feeling adventurous and wanting to do something completely different (si)

Questioning the meaning of life, and the validity of decisions clearly and easily made years before (you betcha’)

Confusion about who you are, or where your life is going. (you can read me like a book)”

While all points appear relevant and extremely accurate, I believe these symptoms have, in reality, initially surfaced somewhere between the successful conclusion of toilet training and the first stirrings of confused “I Dream of Jeannie” lust and ardor. Rather than accompanying the arrival of the AARP, the early bird special and the long-overdue appreciation of the genius of Guy and Ralna, along with the rest of the Lawrence Welk musical menagerie, in actuality, don’t we all experience  downhearted days at various times and in various degrees, through the entirety of our lives? It's an inevitability for a being who can ponder and postulate. And is it not a perusal of possibilities positive when one questions current situations and future prospects – for as the sage, Casey Kasem, so often intoned, “keep your feet on the ground and keep reaching for the stars.”

There'll Be One Child Born in Our World to Carry on, to Carry on

With your indulgence, we momentarily switch to a tone and a subject of some seriousness, and of a more personal nature than is the norm. My family recently suffered a sudden, unexpected and heartbreaking loss of a younger cousin and at an age where she should have had many decades of vibrant, healthy and fulfilled life and love ahead of her.  We’re an Italian clan, strong in number, and at this point most of us have dealt with the passing of a parent, all have experienced the death of uncles, aunts and grandparents, but this was the first loss of our generation and the copious count of cousins assembled took it hard. If our, much-loved and much-missed,  cousin could pass so unexpectedly, so tragically prematurely, leaving so many days left unrealized, are we making the best of those very precious and finite days remaining in our futures?  Is 25 years in a cubicle the fruition of anyone’s potential?

Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité

By purposeful design of the workplace compensation and promotion process, we wage daily battle with those above us (natural enemies, like preventative dentistry to Tea Partiers), those below us (overly-ambitious young punks, fresh out of University with their hair and their music and their drugs, gunning for our jobs), our peers (commiserating comrades at after work fraternization tavern outings, cash-coveting competitors within the office environs), and even those yet to be hired (we must stop reproducing at such a rapid rate, there will forever exist but a fixed sum of positions.) The structure of the employment environment is one of intended competition and we are all its futuristic, apocalyptic, nihilistic, Mel Gibson-like Road Warriors (minus the Neo-Nazi, Anti-Semitism, of course.) We resent those who are the purveyors of power, the string manipulators to us marionettes, the supervisors whose command of “jump” will eternally be followed by our query of “how high?”

Whilst scanning Facebook and nodding off in mid-afternoon reverie, we daydream of some romanticized revolution in which authority will be overturned and sovereignty placed in the hands of the noble proletariat as we storm our business place Bastille and liberate our fellow corporate drones and toilers to ascend and occupy our own Versailles, at which time climate change will cease, our nation will revel in a population fully and contentedly employed, and adversaries across the globe will lay down their armaments, join hands and serenade our anxious ears with “Reach Out and Touch Somebody’s Hand.”  

No matter how gainful, how rewarding, even how enjoyable a job may be, after a quarter century of traversing the same urban avenues to the same office complex to fulfill the same basic responsibilities, it’s just ordinary, and to be anticipated, that Peggy Lee will caress your cranium and croon that musical question, “is that all there is?” However, we lacking the surname “Romney” need to secure steady engagement. One needs to eat, and live, and love (particularly pricey, depending on the neighborhood) and provide shelter from the storm. One needs to clothe himself in the finest fabrics, the fanciest finery and optimal attire and, without the indisputably indispensable, planned obsolescence that is the Apple product line, lovingly and painstakingly assembled by Job’s army of pre-teen Chinese slave-laborers, we know our lives as Americans would be incomplete and truly unworthy. So work we must, but work while unswervingly striving to strike a reasonable and livable balance between hours spent laboring to enrich others and those more properly devoted to life and time’s true values and joys.

As for nycityman, an occasional tilter at windmills -a sometime unsteadying frame of mind - this very blog and the opportunity it allows for expression and exchange of ideas, is a remarkable remedy to despondency and depression, both genuine and illusory.  And until my true dream, and true happiness, of achieving the position Beneficent President of the United Earth in Charge of all Things and all Decisions Rendered reaches fruition, I remain grateful for all I do have.  

And speaking of things to be grateful for (how's that for a slick, showbiz-y segue) here are two musical legends who's work has brought joy to generations - B.B. King and Peggy Lee.

Depreciation in Appreciation – Gun Appreciation Day

Which is larger, the caliber or the IQ?

The Most Imbecilic Idea for a Celebratory Commemoration to Ever Arise from the Rapidly Regressing Grey Matter of the Far Right

How to Insult and Hurt the Victims and the Families of American Gun Violence

A Completely Non-Partisan and Utterly Objective Commentary

“To give the victory to the right, not bloody bullets, but peaceful ballots only, are necessary” – Abraham Lincoln

“What a wonder is a gun!
What a versatile invention!
First of all, when you've a gun
Everybody pays attention.

And all you have to do
Is move you little finger,
Move your little finger and
You can change the world.” – Stephen Sondheim

“I’ll be a son of a gun” – Joey Bishop

A coalition of conservative organizations (time travelers from a long-ago epoch, modern-day scientists estimate their era of origin to fall somewhere between the 15^th and 17^th centuries) have declared Saturday, June 19, 2013 to be the premiere - and should intelligence, logic, compassion, concern, sense and sensibility, or even Pride and Prejudice hold sway - the final, "Gun Appreciation Day.” Those behind this firearm-folly felt it of utmost importance to organize rapidly in relation to the tragic and horrific events in Newtown, Connecticut, so as to inflict as much pain, suffering and sorrow upon that day’s survivors and victim family members. In arms-owning solidarity and with the sincere belief that it is the God-given and Constitutional right (the Bible and the Constitution being, of course, interchangeable texts, particularly to those who have neither read nor understood either) for Caucasian, Christian, Conservative males (real Americans) to possess limitless weaponry, armaments and ammunition allowing the ability to commit as many Columbines, Auroras and Newtowns that they and they alone (with noteworthy contributions from the great minds of the Right such as Limbaugh, Palin, Bachmann, Goehmert, Joe the Plumber, Larry the Cable Guy and the cast of Honey Boo Boo) deem necessary to preserve their freedoms and liberties from the America-hating, anti-Christ, Kenyan-born, Muslim, Atheist, Socialist, Communist, Nazi presently in illegal residence in the people’s White House and his second term agenda to destroy our Republic, institute Sharia Law, kill our Grandmothers, take our guns, program television and movies solely with product from the Tyler Perry canon, legalize only gay marriage, make abortions and marijuana mandatory, disband the military, incinerate the original copy of the Constitution in a primetime Christmas Day special on BET, replace all statues, busts and prehistoric cave paintings with images of himself,  have all Bibles reprinted so that the name Barack Hussein Obama replaces that of Jesus Christ and, needless to say, declare himself Emperor and Deity for eternity.  On January 19^th, an army of the indignant, insensitive and ignorant are to sally forth from gun show to gun range to gun store, cash and credit card firmly in fist, with a message of violence and bloodshed for all, that Conservative perception of what is the true manifestation of American greatness and sustainability, and to share the joyful message of pistols before people, Berettas before boys, Glocks before girls and Lugers before life.

Famous American Idiot and current Hades inhabitant who held an NRA rally in  Denver only 11 days after Columbine - believed he needed guns as protection from "damn, dirty apes!"

Does a day set aside in celebration of mankind's most popular and most prolific apparatus of death and destruction seem something an enlightened, considerate or contemplative culture condones? It has been just slightly over a month since the sickening scene at Sandy Hook and in that short period of time there have been over 1000 additional gun deaths in the United States. Guns may be a necessary evil but they are not an item of appreciation or celebration, rather a presence and need we must sadly tolerate. Other instruments of injury and fatality, so often elicited in debate - the car, the knife, the baseball bat, the crowbar – exist for other primary purposes, any resulting casualty occurs through accident or malicious misuse.  The gun has but one purpose, it exists to do one thing, it is manufactured and sold and marketed for one reason – to kill – not really cause for a national day of praise, worship and rejoice. “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” Never has a more simpleminded phrase ever been muttered, and perhaps, never has one so effectively reached and harmed so many.  People with guns kill people. In a very unusual confluence of occurrences, on December 14, 2012, the very day of the Sandy Hook shootings, a deranged, knife-wielding madman went on a violent rampage in China attacking 22 children, fortunately all survived.  The weapon comparison and tally – the knife results in not a single death, the semi-automatic Bushmaster .223 rifle regrettably results in 26. Guns don’t kill people, people with guns kill people, and people with automatic and semi-automatic assault weapons kill large numbers of people proficiently and speedily.  Has it ever before been tradition to fete tools of torture and terror? Does one recall the childhood respite from the classroom when we praised and partied in humble honor of the guillotine, the mace, the lethal injection, or that classic bit of festiveness and frivolity – “Drawn and Quartered Appreciation Day?” 

Happy Mace Day! God Bless Us Everyone.

 Don’t fret over your freedoms, lose it over your liberties or even sulk over your self-determination or sovereignties, no one in this country is trying to overturn the second amendment and take your guns – not even the guy in 1600 who’s foreign name and atypical hue (to you) so disturbs your digestion and disrupts your domesticity; keep those single-shot muskets every day that you’re an active member of a regulated militia, just as the Founding Fathers intended. But remember that such responsibility requires reasonability and restraint, for  even when employed for the most noblest of reasons  - to defend, to save a life, to free a people, the ensuing consequence may be necessary, but never anything to desire or celebrate -  or even appreciate. Perhaps the true appreciation that grateful American citizens should feel, regarding our nation’s unnatural and irrational religious fervor toward firearms, is that we currently are blessed with a President and Vice President with the courage, understanding and compassion to see children’s lives, and a nation’s and generation’s health and future as being of greater importance than the generous financial felicity of the NRA, gun lobby and related special interest groups.

In musical conclusion, a combination almost as ill-conceived and perilous as the pairing of Wayne LaPierre and the gun manufacturers, Frank Sinatra performs the Sonny Bono composition, “Bang, Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" -

An American Girl – A Yuletide Postscript

A Curious Co-Mingling of Christmas, Country and Kahlua

“Well she was an American girl,

Raised on promises,
She couldn't help thinkin'
That there was a little more to life somewhere else” – Tom Petty

Sometimes you just never know from whence inspiration will arise (excellent, pretentious prose prevails despite the prolonged posting pause).  Today’s tale is of this photograph, origin unknown, and of a generally joyous holiday whose spirit can oftimes be elusive and grueling to grasp;  and how this seemingly unrelated pairing coalesced in a most usual way in this most unusual time in which we all live and persevere (“It's a most unusual time, I keep feeling my temperature climb. If my heart won't behave in the usual way, well, there's only one thing to say - It's a most unusual day.”) Upon initial glance, it was clear that there was something to be explored in this picture, some material to be mined from the intriguing image. That it would lead to both a heartwarming Christmas account (meaning, thoughts on Christmas as opposed to a Christmas Club Account, that is), as well as a sharing of patriotic bravado and a unique interpretation of how American Exceptionalism may be manifested, is a bit surprising, and hopefully not too severe of a stretch for the cerebellum. Most likely, the coming conjecture is but a reflection of the inner-workings of only one man’s mind, so I beg indulgence and no minor patience.  Allow me some leeway and some rope, follow the twists and turns and leaps of logic and let us journey jointly - through holiday spirit and the lack thereof; through Americana of a nature unrealized in our previously, equal parts iconic, imaginary and illusory, Norman Rockwell existence;  and through the people’s portal of 1600 to the residence of the current Commander in Chief whose distinctly American biography, whose authentic rags to riches story and whose legitimate connection to his constituency, as he rose from those very ranks, sets him apart from most who preceded him in far more tangible and significant ways than just the obvious darker skin tone that so dis-endears him to, and aggravates and irritates the impenetrable, padlocked and minute minds of the Tea Party and Far Right Neanderthals (and once again, nycityman forfeits even the most slimmest of hopes of garnering any readership in red states.)

"Oh Miss Crabtree..."

A Christmas Valentine to Whomever that Young Lady May Be – Making Much Ado About Nothing

I have come to love this picture, this picture whose innocuousness is surpassed only by its silliness, and to have such powerful and devout sentiment toward it, appears both illogical and nonsensical, and so a bit of explanation.  Any reader who has perused previous prattlings from the prodigious past catalog of “… and several butcher’s aprons” may have very correctly concluded that nycityman is often not much of a “people person.”  Fondness towards my fellow homo-sapiens does not always come as easy as to a puppy, a person of ill-repute, or a pandering politician. When graciously invited to a special event, the unappreciative essential query will most-times be, “okay, but are there gonna’ be other people there?” with the probable follow-up, "I'm not going to have to talk to anybody, am I?"  Now, neither an ogre, nor a hermit I be, I curry companionship, I favor friends, I don’t dwell within the darkest recesses of the shadows of the night (not primarily) - there are those few to whom I’m close and love like a remarkable Rioja Reserva, the episode of “The Little Rascals” when Jackie and Chubby woo Miss Crabtree or a fresh out of the package pair of boxer briefs (don’t judge me, sometimes it’s the simple things.) However, when in attendance and conversation at one of the aforementioned “are there gonna’ be other people there” social soirees, is it really my dutiful responsibility to recall all the of the imaginative monikers of your progeny flock, as well as academic institutions attended, years they have preciously inhabited our beloved terra firma, and the ostensibly infinite inventory of their impressive accomplishments in life? In reality, I’ve very likely been faking my way through your name all evening whilst, during our tete a tete, daydreaming about an unlikely chance encounter  between Katherine Jenkins, Freema Agyema and myself, or perhaps pondering just how far in the competition a really well-trained horse might go on “Dancing with the Stars.” And so it went,  until this un-credited photograph appeared on Facebook - the honesty in her reaction, the excitement, the lack of formality with the leader of the free world and now forever a figure in history, the silliness and the playfulness, the fact that her pose of choice for a photograph that will live for generations in her family was this one articulating “oh my God, check this out, I can’t believe this!” and the sincere and obvious joy and amusement conveyed by our President’s countenance originally entertained me then, unexpectedly, filled me with affection toward people. You.  And you, in the representation of this very American girl, helped demonstrate, in some albeit, extremely unintended and indirect way - a spirit of Christmas.

Katherine

Freema

A New American Exceptionalism?

And still, there’s more to it. This is an image captured on film, or as a jpeg, that is utterly, patently and only American. This is modern day Norman Rockwell. This is casualness between citizen and leader not seen in many, if not any, other parts of the world - it wouldn’t be allowed and certainly considered improper protocol and, perhaps even, criminal behavior. Nycityman holds much fondness and affection for our sister city of London, and much respect for the history and traditions of the United Kingdom, but there will never come a day when the Daily Mail touts a shot of Queen Elizabeth is such a setting, arms entwined with a royal subject.  And what of that setting - just what is this somewhat, seedy-appearing locale? Was our President mere moments away from a dive into a mosh pit? Was he called in to an after-hours joint to bail-out Biden after a brawl? Or was Barack Obama simply getting himself another new tat - Mitt Romney on his left bicep to accompany the McCain on his right? 

If there is such a thing as American Exceptionalism, is this a depiction of what it really is? American Exceptionalism is undoubtedly not bragging every day and telling everyone with a cochlea that we are the greatest country in the world – that’s just annoying.  Perhaps instead, it’s the equality exhibited between Obama and that young lady. For where there is no line of succession, no divine intervention, no military coupe our leaders are beholden to us, work for us and report to us; and arise from our citizenry - the American President is one of us and that idea and ideal, particularly prevalent in the life story of Barack Hussein Obama -unlike Bush and Romney, no patrician wannabe, he – is communicated in Obama’s behavior and demeanor. This image of the casual, confident commander and the jumpy but joyous, everyday American is a meeting of equals - and isn’t that exceptional?

And, in the audio/video portion of our presentation – first up, Tom Petty with “An American Girl,” followed by Andy Williams and, “It’s a Most Unusual Day.”

Man without a Country? The Far Right, the Gun Culture it Embraces and the Ruination of a Republic

“Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground

Mother earth will swallow you, lay your body down” - Stephen Stills

“To give victory to the right, not bloody bullets, but peaceful ballots only, are necessary." – Abraham Lincoln

“But I'm not givin' in an inch to fear

 I promised myself this year.
 I feel like I owe it to someone” – David Crosby
 

Considering the season, the plan was that the next "... and several butcher's aprons" blog post would be a light-hearted and festive missive, filled with good-tidings, cheer and benevolent hopes for the holidays - and that will indeed be appearing in a mere matter of days. Today, however, we sadly and tragically find that this re-post from earlier in the year, and the opinions expressed within, only grow more timely and relevant with each rising of the sun upon our increasingly troubled republic. We grieve as a nation with the families and friends of those lost in Newtown, Connecticut and hope and pray that as we progress and evolve as a country and society such events, so frequently a part of our lives, will soon be but anguished and heartbreaking memories left far in our past and not recurring incidents.

From July 30, 2012 -
With the recent rash of Right-wing, reactionary responses to the heartbreaking shootings in Colorado, I must admit to now sometimes, sadly and seriously, questioning if I even belong in this country any longer.  In instance after instance it feels as if this grand and noble experiment in democracy, in a free, liberated and thoughtful people’s government, has been irrevocably and horrifically high-jacked and harmed beyond all hope by the increasingly vocal and influential yokels, bigots and un-intelligentsia that progressively dominate our social and political discourse. These rebels of regression now not only own an entire political party, in the GOP, but also a television network that serves as its persuasive propaganda arm. It astounds and angers me that Conservatives and gun proponents  are actually exploiting this tragic occurrence to contend that we need even more lenient gun regulations, and this despite knowing that all the weaponry - the semi-automatic assault rifle, the thousands of rounds of armor piercing bullets, the tear gas canisters  were  purchased legally. They further attempt to make the preposterous, nonsensical and exceedingly precarious proposition that if others in the theatre had carried concealed firearms the massacre could have been prevented or at least lessened. James Holmes came equipped with military-grade, high-powered armaments and, was garbed in protective bulletproof armor. Can anyone really think that an Old-West style shoot out in a panicky, dark, crowded, smoke-filled movie theatre would have resulted in anything but further and continued carnage while also making it extraordinarily difficult for the police on the scene to sort out and stem the situation? Is a 2012 adaptation of Dodge City with untrained assault weapon toting patrons possibly a logical rejoinder to any dilemma?  Yet this alarmingly escalating societal and governmental propensity towards a solution of amplified aggression is in many ways just the tip of the iceberg of the backward-leaning, counter-civilized and inhumane behaviors and attitudes becoming readily accepted in this great land of ours. America is getting more conservative, more intolerant, less compassionate and less educated seemingly daily.  The Grand Old Party and its presidential candidate preach that education is unnecessary and elite, certainly an obvious and easy way for the upper-class to prevent those that they believe are beneath them from advancing financially and socially in our society. Willard Romney, he of the Harvard MBA, is of the mind that higher education is not intended for the masses but for the privileged few who can afford to attend colleges and universities and has actually stated that one gets the education one can afford.  It’s an idea that lacks any forethought or forward thinking, reeks of classism and elitism and does nothing but damage the fortunes and future of our country. For Mitt, advanced degrees are meant for him and his progeny, while the proper position of the offspring of the impoverished and working class is in defense of our state so that his boys can remain free, unencumbered and secure to crew and play lacrosse.  Economically, Romney promotes the Paul Ryan plan, a policy that openly steals from the poor to give to the rich. And those who are most severely damaged by this inexplicably support it, possibly because they're too uninterested, uninformed and uninvolved to be aware that they are being taken advantage of, used and manipulated.  The Republicans repeatedly and proudly brazenly boast that they care nothing about the health and well-being of the common man, the working class or those in poverty. Mitt is actually a perfect negative representative of our time and of everything that’s wrong with our country – he lacks empathy, he’s selfish, self-absorbed, intolerant, elitist, classist, bullying, he has no core or convictions, and he lies as easily as he draws breath. The woeful actuality that he is virtually tied with Obama in polls at this point, a decent man who has been slandered and libeled and personally attacked like no one in the history of American politics, someone who has actually lived out the “America Dream,” no silver-spooner he, says more about the gloomy gist of this treatise than all my amassed verbiage could feasibly express.

A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed

A study in the Journal of Trauma and Acute Care Surgery found that the gun murder rate in the U.S. is at 19.5 percent, almost 20 times higher than the next 22 richest nations combined – please pause and take that in – over 20 times higher than 22 other nations combined.  Among the world's 23 wealthiest countries, 80 percent of all gun deaths are American deaths and 87 percent of all children killed by guns are American children. A yearly average of 29,500 gunfire deaths has been recorded nationally by the U.S. Department of Justice:  Bureau of Statistics for the past 30 years in America. We are not defending ourselves with guns, we are slaughtering each other. American citizens do a far superior job of slaying fellow Americans than any outside terrorist organization could ever dream of or hope to do. Our passion and religious fervor for munitions, viciousness and violence make us our true own worst enemies. The good news is that this is a situation that could be easily remedied, if only any politicians, including our President, would have the courage to take on the NRA and our ingrained gun culture. This has nothing to do with our freedoms. No one needs to own semi-automatic assault rifles. If you’re aghast and see my notions as an unwarranted attack on the Constitution, then truly be a strict Constitutionalist and own a musket if, and only if, you are in the military, as the Second Amendment literally, clearly and solely allows.

Others have argued that individual gun ownership is imperative as our preeminent protection from a treacherous and threatening central government.  If you judge the contents of your gun locker to be sufficient security against federal tyranny you are genuinely and grievously in error. Should the imagined incidence of the United States government unexpectedly going rogue and commencing combat against its innocent citizens arise you would no doubt find yourself spectacularly outgunned by the might of any one of our armed forces. But fret not, for despite dire and desperate warnings from the likes of Fox News, Michele Bachmann and the deleteriously disturbed contributors to Sarah Palin’s Facebook page,  despite the attempted brainless-washing from the increasingly ignorant individuals in the Tea-publican party, (interestingly, cautions not admonished prior to an African-American occupying 1600) you are in no danger from our government - our government of the people, by the people and for the people - the most egalitarian and representative government in history. You are in precipitously more peril from your inexperienced and indignant neighbor instinctively brandishing his 9 millimeter because your dog defecated on his previously pristine lawn.  Our forefathers and founders were wise and wily fellows (unfortunately much more so than most presently occupying leadership roles) and created a unique, revolutionary and exceptional form of government whose checks and balances guarantee that no such fearful and fully fictional folly would ever foment.  Required in these United States is but the ballot and not the bullet to remove a rapscallion from office. That is the true nature of American Exceptionalism. This is an exceptional nation not because we can own assault weapons and armor piercing bullets but because if we disagree with a person in power we can peacefully remove them - no blood shed or revolution required.  It's free speech, free assembly and free expression that makes us an emancipated citizenry, that guarantees our liberties and freedoms, it’s the First Amendment and not the Second that may yet save us from the seemingly predestined fate that has befallen each earlier empire throughout  the annals of time. Should you wish to dispute the use of the characterization of “empire” as descriptive for this land of the free and home of the brave feel free to find more fitting terminology for the planet’s sole military superpower with soldiers stationed in over 150 sovereign nations.

The problems lie not with the country itself, not with the rock-solid foundation and underpinning of our potentially great nation, it’s not the Constitution or the Declaration of Independence or the Bill of Rights at fault– it’s the increasingly under-educated citizens, the increasingly corporate- controlled, corrupt, bought and paid for politicians and it’s the religious institutions who too often proselytize hatred, intolerance, fear and separatism rather than love, acceptance, tolerance and togetherness.  But because the foundation is true and strong our republic can survive and strive, ideals intact,  but the keys are education, cultural diversity, shared experiences, open-mindedness, empathy, compassion, and some human kindness, but are we even capable of that anymore? It’s time we start looking at ourselves through the prism of reality and facts and figures and not through the arrogant rose-colored glasses of jingoism, and maybe then we can avoid the aforementioned destiny that has destroyed all world empires before us.

Ich bin ein Muensterer - Another Tale of A Tale of Two Cities

Art:  (noun) - the quality, production, expression, or realm of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance. 

While visiting the cities of Amsterdam, the Netherlands (Spreek je Engels?) and Muenster, Germany (sprechen sie Englisch? Forgive me, new friends, but the double dot-less Anglo keyboard does not allow for the proper Germanic spelling of your delightful, picturesque and utterly charming hamlet) this primarily political blogger caught slight wind of some of the argumentative uproar afoot in my stars and stripes waving homeland where, by all appearances, much of our population is distraught and dismayed that Barack Obama has solidly secured a second term as leader of the free world.  A handful of our, perhaps less than open-minded, citizenry are distressingly unfurling our flag, field of stars downward, and are initiating and instigating a secessionist movement - every heart does not currently beat true for the red, white and blue where there's often a boast or brag. Heed exaggerated accounts from internet provocateurs and one would believe that “now we are engaged in a great Civil War.” But as we are still bountifully blissful from our vacationing bohemian behavior and not dutifully detailed on these deleterious doings, that tremulous topic will be addressed more thoroughly in a future post. Today we bypass the usual exasperated attitude and sarcastic similes and take a breather from the unseemly ugliness rampant in the political realm for a milder, gentler composition focusing on the beauty and brotherhood that can arise from a work of art.

“The heavens seem an inch away

Not cold and empty like before

A night as sweet as this, tonight

I can't recall”

As hardhearted, acerbic and surly as yours truly can so often be, there is something about the marvelous musical, "A Tale of Two Cities" that transforms me into a sunshiny day, Ellen watching, up with people, puppy pecking, kitten kissing, baby bussing, suddenly sincere, mountain of mush (while always maintaining my testoterone-y, Irish Spring-like, almost irrationally irresistable to the opposite sex manliness, of course.) It could be the soaring, stirring and emotional melodies brought lovingly to life by equally full-hearted and full-throated vocalists.  It could be the evocative, poignant and expressive performances of adept and able actors meaningfully inhabiting every syllable and silence.  It could be the timeless tale of love, redemption and ultimate sacrifice conveyed in the words and deeds of characters, sometimes caustic, sometimes comic, sometimes charismatic, and always authentic, created by Charles Dickens and artfully adapted and embellished by gifted composer, lyricist and librettist, Jill Santoriello, the Carl Yastrzemski, triple threat of modern American musical theatre.   But maybe, just maybe, it’s all of those things and something more - something slightly inexplicable, enigmatic, even enchanting in nature – something that touches upon the magic that can occasionally occur when a work of collaborative art is realized, and creative promise is fulfilled. Such was the feeling we had the great good fortune of experiencing recently when enjoying the latest production of “A Tale of Two Cities” presented by  the Freies Musical Ensemble of Muenster, Germany.  FME is an amateur company, members gainfully employed in the day parts, by necessity rehearsing late into evenings and on treasured weekends.  While perhaps geographically and economically far removed from the bright lights of the Great White Way, this was an execution that was ambitious, earnest, dramatic, joyful, heartfelt, moving and ultimately affecting.  As rewarding as the moments were reveling in the song-filled spectacular, similarly so was the time spent afterwards with the welcoming and warm frauen and manner of FME - and that, too, has time and again, proven to be another fulfilling tale of A Tale of Two Cities. 

Headline - “Musical Brings World Peace”

 “Then we can make this world

The way it ought to be!

When will we see that day?

When will it be that way?

The way it ought to be?”

A musical spreading harmony, amity, good feelings and goodwill across our troubled terra firma, hinting at hyperbole, you say - an obvious overstatement, far-fetched and fantastical?  I’ve had the pleasure of seeing productions from high schools to Broadway, around much of the lower 48, and now even beyond the great Atlantic performed in a language of which I have zero familiarity – theoretically you might as well have had a Tea-Partier attempting to explain his unintellectual, nonsensical, prejudicial and harmful political ideology to me. Yet, so strong is this combination of actor and material that even done in a tongue foreign to the viewer, the meaning, sentiment, intention and lasting effect of the story, and its telling, is still very much achievable.  People who have seemingly very little to unite them but their affection for the musical art form find that having discovered the humanity, compassion, and empathy inherent in “A Tale of Two Cities,” those communal positive and very human qualities extend far beyond the footlights and, indeed, they share much commonality. From actor to director to costume designer to musician to program printer - once you have been touched by this show you have been indelibly affected in an enduring manner and in a style that successful crosses cultural divides.  (“we are the world, we are the children,”  “come on people now, smile on your brother, everybody get together, try and love one another, right now,” “I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony” – okay, now I want a Coke.)

So, can a traveling stage show calm tensions in the Middle East, mend multiple-millennia-old, fractious, faith fanaticism and enmities, and cap carbon emissions to deliver a happier polar bear and a climate change free future for humankind? Not very likely, but it’s certainly worth the price of admission to find out.

For a taste of “A Tale of Two Cities” here are highlights from the PBS special, featuring many members of the original Broadway cast. 

  

The Day Mitt Romney Won! - A Harrowing Halloween Horror Presidential Dis-Endorsement

 IT CAME FROM THE GOP!!!

"People who need people
Are the luckiest people in the world” –  Bob Merrill

“… there are 47 percent…  who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe the government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you-name-it … My job is not to worry about those people. I’ll never convince them they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives.”- Mitt Romney

“You couldn't really have a heart
And hurt me
Like you hurt me
And be so untrue”- Hal David

As any regular readers, semi-regular readers, mind readers, palm readers, Weekly Readers, or despondent and deeply disappointed porn seekers would surely know, we here in the luxurious penthouse office suites of “… and several butcher’s aprons,” in the opulent “… and several butcher’s aprons” Towers, overlooking the pleasantly pastoral “… and several butcher’s aprons” Plaza, have previously prosed with profound frequency, and at extensive length, our boldly, biased beliefs on the strengths and weaknesses of  the two men in fractious, contentious and prickly pursuit of the office of President of these United States (links to a few can be found at the end of this post for reference, curiosity, and for the unapologetic and unabashed ego satisfaction of the writer.)  As with any self-important, yet more accurately, patently unimportant purveyor of political opinion, it is now my turn to annoyingly force (and never let it be said that this forum ever passes up an opportunity to annoy) my unwanted and, soon to be justifiably, unheeded, endorsement for the 2012 Presidential election.  But, by this point, as any American with even but a single of their five senses fully-functional is acutely aware of all the particulars, minutia and mishegoss  (hmm, Word 2010 doesn’t recognize Yiddish) of the candidates and this seemingly century-long campaign, this will not be a detailed diatribe of their distinctly divergent views, policies or records, as in standard and intelligent endorsements, but rather, a dis-endorsement in the form of a frightening forecast of a future in which Willard reigns victorious.

“He wants to savage Medicaid and repeal Obamacare, costing 34 million people healthcare coverage. He would slash spending on education, child nutrition, veteran’s programs and more. He promises to repeal the reforms made to limit Wall Street’s excesses.”– Chicago Sun-Times

Mitt’s Motivation 

 A common recurring complaint among the progressive punditry is that the Ex-Governor appears to lack any clear or spoken impetus or rational reasoning behind his coveting of Commander in Chief credentials. True, he’s been trained since toddler-hood for the task and his past presents a path pointed particularly toward this pursuit. And certainly, the Confident-One feels entitled and deserving of the honor, much like Sarah Palin and the Miss Wasilla crown.  But when candidly queried on the “why” of his quest, he’s as vague, non-committal and insincere as Eddie Murphy’s account of his shemale shenanigans, and, frankly, as Mitt’s responses are to pretty much any and all questions. But, if you, my exceptional reader, were running for the highest office in the land (no, not Ryan Seacrest’s job) would you fess up to the fact that you were doing so in order  that you, the Koch brothers,  Sheldon Adelson and others of that Plutocratic financial ruling class would have fewer tax burdens and fewer financial rules and regulations placed upon you, thereby freeing yourselves to accumulate even further obscene sums of wealth, sans any moral or legal encumbrances, largely through the labors, at the expense, and on the backs of the middle class and the poor?  Gone will be the inheritance tax, and the unwieldy and unfair 13% capital gains tax that so devastates Mitt’s $250,000,000 worth.  The most well-off among us will receive $86 billion dollars more in income tax savings above and beyond the Bush cuts already in place, while middle class levies will rise to the sour tune of an additional $2000 each a year.  Well, you wouldn’t be trailing that message on a banner behind your biplane above the beach at Coney Island, now would you?

“Mitt Romney offers dangerous ideas, when he offers any.” – The New York Times

A Mindless Man of Many Minds 

Willard Mitt Romney hasn’t had a principle since Miss Haversham  repressively ruled the roost in boarding school (I know the spelling is different, sometimes you have to cheat), or a core since Jeeves last peeled and seeded him a Granny Smith.  Perchance, are you part of “the well-to do, up and down Park Avenue, on that famous thoroughfare, with their noses in the air? High hats and Arrowed collars, white spats and lots of dollars, spending every dime, for a wonderful time?” Do you speak, Howell-esque, teeth and jaw tightly clenched?  Do family members sport the name Muffy, Toper, Bitsy, Biff and Chip? Are you a captain of industry, a corporate raider, a vulture capitalist, or an actual vulture?  Are the poverty stricken your personal source of Soylent Green? Tell Mitt Romney what to do, he’s waiting. Mitt will do anything, or say anything to anyone at any time, and then when required, deny it all, facial smirk smugly in place.  He’s been pro-choice and pro-life, “severely” conservative and progressive, he’s been to the “left of Ted Kennedy” on gay rights and supports a Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage, he’s believed climate change to be real and man-made but also junk science and a liberal conspiracy, he’s created universal healthcare in Massachusetts and vows to repeal Obama’s Affordable  Healthcare Act. Mitt’s had more faces than Joan Rivers, more dramatic changes than a bipolar transsexual and more positions than a double-jointed nymphomaniac. As Mitt used to sing in his days with The Spice Girls, “So tell me what you want, what you really really want.” This is a man resolutely without convictions but for those he hopes not to receive as a result of his dubious, overseas tax-dodges.

The Best of the Worst  

This election season the Republican Party gravely insulted our country, its people and its history by presenting as their presidential candidates a clown’s car full of misfits, miscreants and misogynists so aberrant that they would have put to shame any self-respecting freak show; and included among their ranks were some whose very sanity could have justifiably been doubted and questioned. Out of this distressing muck arose Willard Mitt Romney, disputably the only edible fruit out if this poisons horn of plenty – leaving us with a conciliation prize neither praiseworthy, nor statesman-like in stature. Question an intended Obama voter on the reasons for their support and they are likely to rattle off such things as Obama-care, Bin Laden, the creation of 5.2 million jobs, the slow but steady decrease in unemployment, ending the Iraq War, saving the auto industry, repealing Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, The Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, Wall Street Reform, Student Loan Reform, Veteran Support (and as Yul Brynner was want to say) etc., etc.  Ask a Romney-ite about their presidential preference and oft-times you’re likely to hear a half-hearted, “he’s not Obama,” “Obama’s a Muslim,” Obama’s a Communist,’’ “Obama’s a Kenyan.” I’ll leave any further interpretation of the sum total of those frequently articulated GOP/Fox/Palin/Tea Party flagrant fabrications to you. The point being, very few express ecstatic encouragement for the Romney/Ryan ticket but more often a fear of a second Obama term, one in which he will kill your Grandmother, confiscate your firearms and institute a Marxist dictatorship grounded in Sharia Law.  

Willard’s World and Welcome To It

Our decision for this November 6^th couldn’t be less complicated if it were contemplations from the mind of Michele Bachmann. If you want our military to remain in Afghanistan and you desire fresh boots on the ground in Iran and Syria; if you are unconcerned with equal rights, pay and opportunity for both the LGBT community  and women,  or the specific rights of women to make their own health choices without big government interference; if you want the working class to pay higher taxes so the rich can contribute less;  if 34 million people losing health coverage is none of your never-mind; if the elimination of Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid seems like sound governmental policy; if you believe a Gubernatorial  history of 47^th in the nation is impressive job creation;  if, very relevantly, you dismiss climate change and want increasingly severe and deadly weather occurrences all, eventually and inevitably,  leading to an uninhabitable planet for future generations; if you want a President with a looser grip on reality than Little Edie Bouvier Beale and a stronger penchant for an easier tossed-off, brazen falsehood than an Evangelical Congressman caught in a men’s room stall by airport security,  then by all means, on that second Tuesday in November, pull that lever, punch that chad,  crayon in that empty box and cast a negative ballot for a campaign whose entire foundation has been one of lies – tall tales about Welfare, Medicare, Death Panels, increasing unemployment and a worsening economy, past positions, record and statements;  or vote with positive intentions for facts, reality, truth and a good, thoughtful, compassionate, intelligent man with an already estimable record.  But, then again, why not wait until Wednesday when the crowds will have thinned out.

Now, as always, we proudly present the previously alluded to melodies,with English songbird, Cilla Black and Brooklyn belter, Barbra Streisand. Then, if you’re still sticking around, you’ll find the aforementioned links to the related earlier Romney and Obama posts.

http://nycityman.blogspot.com/2012/10/taking-debate-bait-we-wont-get-fooled.html

http://nycityman.blogspot.com/2012/10/mitt-romney-class-pictures.html

http://nycityman.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-lies-and-times-of-willard-mitt.html

http://nycityman.blogspot.com/2012/08/barack-obama-all-i-want-is-some-truth.html

http://nycityman.blogspot.com/2012/06/mitt-romney-ai-artificial-intelligence.html