Tag Archives: gun control

Ashes, Ashes We All Fall Down

 

Notre Dame is burning down lamented my husband’s friend as he walked through the door.

I thought, so what?

Wreckage is the current state of affairs: Our financial institutions, our governing institutions, our crops, our creatures, our home. Flames lick our boots. An architectural feat now a crypt of old stones is just going to be rubble with the rest anyway. Save your thoughts and prayers.  Wooden building blocks of porous words decay by insidious slow seepage of poison on all that are holy. We are the destroyers.

Les Miserables return to France’s streets screaming for bread, incensed by the bounty promised to rebuild a cathedral that might better serve the underclass. French leaders say Notre Dame’s tourist money will bring them the cash they are seeking but that promise is built on hollow scaffolding. Here in Nashville, the empowered have been selling the city off to the highest bidders ruining the quality of life for the greater population who never see a dollar from relocated businesses or tourist trade. We live in cement. We sit in traffic, pay higher real estate taxes on places we don’t want to leave. We lose each other in the density.

The sheer exhaustion of trying to be a person on the planet run by two headed monsters these days overdraws the bank that holds principles.  One head tells sweet lies while the other dictates destruction. Checks and balances no long teeter but lock the good guys out. Words shouted down a black tunnel declare all dark equal and nuance irrelevant. That which floats to the surface is declared scum in the worst of nations that we are becoming in the not united states of America. Submerge the light! Beautiful monuments, testaments of our passion for beauty dot so many cities under siege. They are not large enough to shadow the arduous existence of the average guy.

Doves of peace are released at our funerals and shot to kingdom come by hunters.

Billboards line the highway from Chattanooga to Nashville Tennessee. Yesterday I passed a sign preaching God and the next selling firearms. “Jesus is Alive” followed by a picture of a gun and “Silencers are Legal”. God and death and you know they are sold by the same lot. Any foreigner driving down this road would say these people are crazy. Let’s get out of here. Though I’ve been here for 27 years I am one of those foreigners.

But where would I go? Where would we go? That’s the question for most of the world these days? The flames engulf us.

Here a street fighter who Trumps the free world is a rat man a rat roach crafty swamp dweller.  Half the country closes its eyes as it sways to the illiterate spin topping the charts.   They are the weakest or most corruptible. He knew how to enslave them. He sought them out. They will believe what he wants them to believe. What they want to believe. “Come into the beautiful roach hotel. It is a palace I made for you because I love you. I am one of you. Come in, come in … and die before you realize what I did to betray you.”

He is Quasimodo swinging from the burning bell tower. He needs to be loved. He will do anything to be loved.

Tax and abortion are the Right Wing causes of a posse of self imprisoned Republicans. Are those leaders so tethered to unborn life that it’s no matter that that life drink toxic water, eat fatal food, perhaps live addicted or in juvie or maybe no worse and no better than foster care or homeless shelters for those that cannot make ends meet?

What proportionality allows one to sob over a building and turn a blind eye to the destruction of life around them? What value demands an unwanted or unhealthy life be born into a cruel existence? What logic allows one percent of the life to have a surplus while others starve and toil? Lower taxes on the rich have always been the opium that makes illogical mad hatters of those that choose myopia anyway.

I am saddened by the sight of this fiery annihilation. Even the abominable broken pile of stone and rubble that is Trump saddens me. But he is nature corrupted and a monument to the power of that nature in all its fury and distortion to survive, to mutate and infect that around it to mutate as well. We are awestruck by human potential in the cathedral but we are also awestruck by human potential that cannot be conquered or restrained no matter its devilish intent.

Leave the charred skeleton of the cathedral to remind us of that. Let history in its tortured truth stand. We the people need shock and awe to continue beyond a press cycle if we are to implement change. We do not need to be falsely comfortable or comforted. History for some has relevance only as it pertains to sentimentality.

But the time of reckoning has come.

 

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Don’t Like Crazy? Find a New Planet.

 Originally posted on the Journal Pages of Active Yoga

Sunday, July 20, 2008 – 10:11 pm


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It is five years later. My lame joke about guns and holsters for all occasions may soon come to be a reality. America has noticed an insanity problem. America has declared it will not give up its guns. The discussion is on the table. I felt it was time to pull out this old and formerly private post.
Here are no statistics on  the prevalence of pharmacueticals  prescribed  for anxiety and depression or statistics on gun sales. I have not railed about the challenges of adapting to a technological and potentially isolated life. Or maybe I just did. Guns are now allowed in our parks.

I just tossed a fifth of gin
Now I’m going to dizz knee land
I just got cuffed again
Now I’m going to dizz knee land
Shot my gun into the night
I’m going to dizz knee land
I just saw a good man die
I’m going to dizz knee land — Dada

I heard the news today oh boy. The NRA is putting pressure on Disneyland. Employees should carry concealed weapons to work. It seems those employees put their lives on the line every day. As a person who has an unhealthy horror of anything plush or otherwise with an oversized head or hands I can see that.

Once a week I teach at a tennis club. It’s a diverse crowd and I saw an opportunity for real growth last week when I brought up the NRA concern. I instigate where I can. There are so many opportunities for us to dislike each other but we don’t which is simply amazing.

Someone added that the NRA is pushing to allow concealed weapons permits at all national parks as well and though she didn’t seem too concerned a couple of college students gasped with horror. An older woman known for her terse and take no prisoners attitude snapped,

 “Well it’s supposed to be a free country. We should be able to do what we want. In the old West everybody wore a holster and had guns right on their bodies! I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

I made a bad joke about the opportunity for marketing  guns and holsters to suit a modern woman’s changing wardrobe needs.

I imagined getting pulled over by the police for a bad tail light and getting a ticket for not wearing my seat belt but the weapon would be allowed. In fact I could wear my gun to a bar, get drunk and stagger down the street as long as I didn’t get in my car and drive. For that matter I could get in my car and drive with an arsenal of prescribed drugs in me as long as I wasn’t carrying pot. But I digress.

In 2003 in the state of Tennessee there were about 217 requests for concealed weapons permits and in 2007 that increased to about 217,000 requests. They have a gun, I need a gun or maybe they have a gun and why shouldn’t I?  I live in the South and there is a sense of entitlement to guns that we didn’t share in the general non criminal population of New Jersey. I have friends who have guns and as I write this I’m wondering why I am friends with people who believe it’s good to have guns but I’ve gotten used to it. I should heed the words of my Nana who once admonished me for dating what she saw as a loser,

You can get used to anything, even a wart at the end of your nose.” A woman of impeccable appearance, this curse was avoidable as anything could be cut out or off or made reasonable with the help of a plastic surgeon.

Still, there is a peculiar poetry to the insanity in the South which both disturbs and pleases me. I unlike the Chinese who recently issued a statement that mentally ill people would not be allowed at the Olympics have come to expect unreasonable behavior.

The Chinese have whole cities devoted to making products like mattresses. In a mattress city the country folk are imported to work and in return they are fed and crowded into small apartments where they live on top of each other. How crazy is that? Aren’t you harvesting crazy people? How can people who have cities like this talk about mentally ill people?

And how will they know who is mentally ill anyway?

If you’re not drooling and screaming perhaps something in your toiletries kit will offer the information they need. Anti-psychotic drugs are widely distributed as are drugs for depression. And then there are drugs for general anxiety and drugs for pain or sleeplessness that have the side effect of making one wild eyed. Are you going to keep out right wing folk singers?  How about Jews for Jesus? People who chain dogs in their fenced in yards?

And who would fill all those seats? I would consider about a third of the people I know more than a bit off. My husband and I had three people to dinner the other night and two of them were barely orbiting the planet while I have automated voice turrets. Anytime any automated voice addresses me I go crazy with verbal assaults. I am the most reactive yoga teacher ever and worse still, I don’t care, I delight in it. So what do you expect China?

Will it be O.K. to carry concealed weapons into the Olympics? How about Capitol Hill? Why not?

That’s all.

re-posted on elephantjournal.com

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Shattered. Blood Shed Again.

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May You Not Go Insane with a Gun in Your Hand.

You have an arsenal in your coat closet, on the shelf behind the scarves and hats and the one random glove with no partner, rifle resting in the corner with the umbrella and old tennis racket, at the ready for sport or the collector at the screen door.

 You go to the gun shows; such beautiful guns, so many choices. Joy rises with the anticipation of the virgin metal rebounding against a willful wrist. You have been fucked with by someone at sometime. Statistics say so. You carry frustration. You are angry. You feel alone. You might someday get right, get clear or get even.

You live on pavement but you are ready for the bear paw in the cave. Woman; attacked once by a dead soul desperado, you bought protection, armed for the next time. You forget that your instincts will not save you unless you live holstered and at the ready evermore. You are paranoid and broken and you are ready to pay it forward.

You are inundated with news that life is hard and the world is at war and those with power will lord over those without. You need power. Where to get power? Your screams are heard in a hail of bullets.

There is not enough money, not enough hope, not enough love.

You are eating processed food that leaves you dead inside. You can smoke and drink and swallow pills to bury your feelings. You can kill others and bury the dead. You can go to the doctor for a fix but there is no preventative care, no healers here for you, no insurance money to cover impending disease of the body or mind. No one pays attention to you until you are sick. You can show them how sick you are with a weapon.  No one prevents you from that either.

You can hide out. Porn and video games are abundant with imaginary companions. You are going crazy but no one notices. We are busy, so busy. Listen my friend, watch our day to day! Who amongst us is not living a crazy life? Crazy is the new normal. It’s every man for himself. Bolster yourself with heart or hand grenades.

On your own, you make your own choices. Be a man. Grow up.

Lock up. Lock yourself away with your faith and your kids.  Protect yourself. We the gun holders will stand ready and armed. There is no running and hiding so get your armor on.

Wait, isn’t that how we got here? Armored? Isn’t that how we sustain our craziness?

How do we strip away the armor? How do we begin again as if the first trespass never happened? That’s the question.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/12/oregon-mall-shooting_n_2285243.html

http://articles.washingtonpost.com/2012-07-30/national/35488387_1_neuroscience-doctoral-student-maryellen-hansen-first-degree-murder

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/07/21/us/shooting-at-colorado-theater-showing-batman-movie.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0

http://abcnews.go.com/US/ian-stawicki-seattle-cafe-racer-shooter-kills-shoots-citywide/story?id=16463885#.UMycs6xCOSo

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011_Tucson_shooting

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