A Day of Memory for the World.

Today, in the U.S., we celebrate Memorial Day.  It was first celebrated by newly freed slaves to honor the Union Soldiers who died fighting for them.  It has since evolved to honor every person who's served in the U.S. military.  They deserve this respect.

For me, the honor is broader.  Humanity is not about borders; that's what governments are.  I, instead, like to honor all people who perished due to the violence of warfare; especially those who were in the wrong place at the wrong time or killed for the color of their skin or simply for being someone another person didn't believe was equal in their vision of humanity.

My Memorial Day is for those men and women who never needed a gun to impact the world in a positive way.  People like Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Harvey Milk (kudos if you know who that is) , John F. Kennedy (who wanted an end to the wars and animosity toward those with differing viewpoints), his brother Bobby Kennedy, Malcolm X (whose only violence was in defense of the atrocities blacks were up against).  Further in history we have the "founders" of many religions and thoughts of mind; Siddhartha Gautama (the first Buddha), Jesus (who taught us of the "Christ"), Krishna, Lao Tzu, etc.  Today, these are the men I honor.  I choose the peaceful warrior and the men of thought. 

This is not to say I don't respect an armed services individual.  Shame on you for assuming so.  Many have chosen not to use their guns when they knew what they were doing was wrong and many have had to use their weapon in actual defense.  These are the militaristic soldiers whom should be honored.

I merely believe true and lasting peace can never be achieved by any other weapon than the love and respect for our fellow humans and our willingness to strengthen such ideals within ourselves and children.  Let's start celebrating peace.  Let's start celebrating the world.

Our Image of Divinity

We are all familiar with the popular images, created by artists, of the most influential people in history; Gods, Prophets, Messiah's and every other great religious figure except one; Muhammad.  This seems to aggravate many, yet it intrigues me.

Let's suspend our personal faiths for a moment.  Erase the image of every painting or sculpture or carving, whatever, of every artists' rendering of every spiritual being.  It's quite difficult with so much of it animating our everyday life, but do your best.  When you're ready, imagine not being aware of the place and time to which they emerged.  Now, look into the eyes of the next person you see.  This could be the face of the one with whom you follow.

The Bleeding Heart of Jesus

This is an iconoclastic image.  It's called "The Bleeding Heart of Jesus" (also depicted on some images of Mary).  The symbolism of this is that his blood poored out for all mankind (yes, an intended misspelling of the word "poured"); especially for those in need, those who were suffering and those who were otherwise disparaged by society.

The phrase "bleeding heart liberal" was coined in the 1930's.  And it was referring specifically to what this image represents and a liberals attitude toward those in need, those suffering and otherwise disparaged by society.  Over the years, however, it's somehow become, quite often, by those who claim to be followers of Christ, a negative connotation and a basis for their very bastardization of his teachings (these, perhaps, are the false prophets of whom Christ spoke?).  I've always been raised to believe a bleeding heart is a compassionate heart, so the negative connotation baffles me.  Because of my own faith, I can't see how someone calling me a "bleeding heart liberal" could ever be a bad thing.  In fact, I find it one of the greatest compliments.

Someone recently said in a facebook posting; "better a bleeding heart than no heart at all".  I don't know this person (it's a friend of a friend sort of thing) but I thought she summed everything up beautifully.   I'd rather help, by whatever means I'm able, than to see my fellow travelers suffering and have done nothing at all.  THAT, I believe, is what our existence is about.  Humanity needs to realize that it's not "me" but "we".

Then again, I'm just a freak.

My Mothers Mother: An Immigrant Familys Tale and the Evil They Wraught

This is a tale of a poverty stricken family.  One who's governments were in turmoil and bread truly was the mana of life. Recently, there had been a country who was bestowed an honorable gift establishing a promise for everyone.  They came with one bag each and their final dime was spent as steerage on a Trans-Atlantic journey.

The family knew people who took them in until they could get established.  It wasn't long before they had their own farm and were not only productive but would offer up help to anyone who asked.  The children grew. 

One searched within herself, having been, for the times, a bit of a rebel.  She chose to become a nun after witnessing the good the convent was doing for the poor.  As a nun, one has to choose the name of a saint to be their patron.  She couldn't decide on one to describe her or that felt right.  So she said the next thing she sees will be her name.  They'd passed a box-car with the name Hilaire.  And so it was.  She went on to become a large part of the Native American communities.  She was a teacher and a student.  Her eyes sparkled when she spoke of a different culture and how wondrous it is to be part of humanity where we all, at heart, believe the same thing so little things like religion or color of someone's skin "doesn't make one darn bit of difference".  If you met her, you'd swear she was full Native.

Another went on to be a family woman.  Although she worked around the house and with the kids she also put in hours at the family store.  She was both loved and feared by her children.  Their father was the eternal "kid at heart".  The family became known around town for their incredible generosity; many people were fed with no expectations in return.  They believed in strong education and the arts.  So, many things the family could afford were donated to the school which, in turn, allowed it to grow it's various departments such as music, athletics, math and science.  The local high school honored them by naming the athletic field in their name.  It is still there to this day.

Their children grew up to do various things.  Several became establishments in the golden age of Hollywood as well as the jazz music scene in the South.   Others married, some farmed, some even became cowboys.  They were all characters in their own right, and the family legacy for being known as kind and generous carried on in each and every one of them.  These people were human beings.

Through one of these women a child was born, my mother, who allowed me the pleasure of knowing each and every one of these people.  Not to mention (another tale for another time) the wonderful characters on my maternal grandfather's side (flappers, anti-prohibitionists, fashion designers, women's lib-ists).  He was the man who gave me my love of needing to learn the World.  These two gave me the only person I could ever count on.

It's true; I'm not brown and, truly, that's what the whole "immigration debate" is really about, now isn't it?  If the U.S. had never received the Statue of Liberty as a status of all it stands for; a welcoming beacon of light for all who are in the dark, then this family never would have existed.  The original travelers would have most likely perished in concentration camps (they were Catholics and most, women and children).  That family would have died out before any successive generation, and the good things we think of when we think "The United States" would never have been.

I'm here and no one special.  But I've learned from this family to never think I'm superior (because I'm not) and to never feel undeserving if I'm truthful to myself and others.  Most importantly, I've learned to put myself in someone else's shoes and even if they "didn't fit" to not judge them but, instead, to learn from them.  It's always good to have new experiences.  Yet, only if you're willing to truly experience them as well as respect them.  In other words; be true to yourself and be true to others.

If you don't want to help, then don't.  However; you, certainly, should not be so arrogant as to deny those of use that do want to help our fellow humans to do so.  My United States is a melting pot.  This includes my family and yours; whomever you may be.

Immigration

This is some of the funniest bunk I've read in a long time. For more twisted humor and racism by people who clearly don't comprehend the reasons for the U.S. being formed go to www.immigration911.org and read the tab "Step 2". Below is their take on "Border Security":

"There is a reason you have never heard any sound logic in support of an open border; it is because having an open border with Mexico as our neighbor is completely illogical. In the age of terrorism and out of control government spending, our open border with Mexico is the single largest threat to our national security and economy. Mexico is not only extremely corrupt and poor, it is the murder capital of the world. With no rule of law, rampant murder and no jobs, Mexico is effectively America's largest port of entry. Moreover, for terrorists looking to enter out country with weapons of mass destruction, this is an incredible point of weakness! Despite the threat this poses to our country, our government still refuses to seal the border."

I remind you, again, what "Lady Liberty" represents:

The New Colossus

By Emma Lazarus, 1883

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

 

If you truly do think all this immigration bullshit is true, or even just curious the way "the other side" feels, sans U.S. propaganda, then watch this excellent film, http://www.theothersideofimmigration.com/ and hear from the very people you claim to hate so much. Funny how all you boobs fail to mention NAFTA in all your hatred and how U.S. force has fucked up Mexico; we are the ones that "took their jobs" [doing my best South Park voice] all in the name of corporate greed.