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God be Praised for Lover’s Young Dream

 

If love is a weakness, it is at least the noblest weakness we are liable to. Hades, the King of the Underworld, sat on his lonely throne one day and wished that something could make his World a nicer place to live. Tartarus was cold and dark and dreary, and the Sun never shined there. No one ever came to visit Hades because the gates of Tartarus were guarded by Cerberus, a huge, three headed dog. Cerberus looked so fierce that he scared everyone away. It made hades very grumpy to be the King of such a cold and lonely World. “I need a companion who will bring joy to this dark place,” said Hades. He decided to disguise himself as a poor traveler and go up to the Earth’s surface. As Hades came out of the ground, Cupid wanted to expand his empire, so he shot Hades with an arrow, to infect him with love. Hades was determined to find someone who could help him make the Underworld a happier place to live. Upon the Earth lived Ceres, the goddess of the harvest. Ceres had a beautiful daughter named Persephone. Persephone had long, golden hair and rosy cheeks, and happiness followed her wherever she went. Ceres loved her daughter very much, and she was always full of joy when Persephone was near.

 When the goddess of the harvest was happy, the whole World bloomed with life. The ground was moist and covered with flowers, and Spring reigned perpetually.  The fields and orchards were always full of crops to be harvested. Persephone loved to run through the fields and help Ceres gather food for the people of Earth. Proserpine was playing with her companions, gathering lilies and violets, and filling her basket and her apron with them.  However, best of all, Persephone loved to play in the apple orchards. There, she could climb the apple trees and pick large, juicy, sweet apples, which tasted better than candy. Finally, Persephone saw Hades standing nearby. In his tattered cloak, he looked like a poor and hungry traveler. Persephone was always generous, so she picked several large apples from the tree and climbed down to meet him. “Please,” said Persephone, “take these apples. They will keep you from being hungry on your journey.” Hades saw her, loved her, and thanked Persephone for the apples and went on his way. “I must bring her to the Underworld!” he thought to himself. “It could never be a gloomy place with such a kind beautiful queen as this!” and then Hades returned to the Tartarus.

 The next morning, Persephone decided to pick some apples for her mothers. She ran to her favorite orchard and began picking the ripest apples she could find. They were so red that they sparkled like rubies in the Sun. Suddenly there was a great rumble, and the ground split open before her. Hades carried her off in his chariot carried, which was pulled by two black horses. On the chariot rode Hades, wearing a black armor of the Tartarus. Proserpine scared for help to her mother and her companions; and when in her fright she dropped the corner of her apron and let the flowers and apples fall, childlike she felt the loss of them as an addition to her grief. The ravisher urged on his steeds, calling them each by name and throwing loose over their heads and necks his iron-colored reins. When Hades reached the River Cyane, and it opposed his passage, he struck the riverbank with his trident, and the Earth opened and gave him passage to Tartarus. Ceres sought her daughter all the World over. Bright-haired Aurora, when she came forth in the morning, and Hesperus, when he led out the stars in the evening, found Ceres still bust in the search. However, it was all unavailing. At length weary and sad, she sat down upon a stone, and continued sitting nine days and nights, in the open air, under the sunlight and moonlight and falling showers. It was where now stand the city of Eleusis, then the home of an old man named Celeus.

 Celeus was out in the field gathering acorns and black berries, and sticks for his fire. His little girl was driving home their two goats, and she passed the goddess, who appeared in the guise of an antiquated woman. The little girl said to the woman, “Mother”—and the name was so sweet to the ears of Ceres—“why do you sit here alone upon the rocks?” The little girl’s father, Helios, also stopped and, though his load was heavy and begged Ceres to come into his cottage, such as it was. She declined, and he urged her. “Go in peace,” Ceres replied, “and be happy in your daughter; I have lost mine.” As Ceres spoke, tears—or something like tears, for the gods never weep—fell down her cheeks upon her bosom. The compassionate man, Celeus,  and his child wept with her. Then said he, “Come with us, and despise not our humble roof; so may your daughter be restored to you in safety.” “Lead on,” said Ceres, “I cannot resist the appeal!” So she rose from the stone and went with them. As they walked, Celeus s told her that his only son, a little boy, lay very sick, feverish and sleepless. She stooped and gathered some poppies. 

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As they entered the cottage, they found all in great distress, for the boy named Triptolemus, seemed past hope of recovery. Metanira, his mothers, received her kindly, and the goddess (Ceres) stooped and kissed the lips of the sick boy. Instantly paleness left his face, and healthy vigor returned to his body. The whole family were delighted—that is, the father, mother, and the little girl, for they were all; they had no servants. They spread the table and put upon it cruds and cream, apples, and honey in the comb. While they ate, Ceres mingled poppy juice in the milk of Triptolemus. When night came and all was still, she arose, and taking the sleeping boy, moulded his limbs with her hands, and uttered over him three times a solemn charm, then went and laid him in the ashes. His mother, who had been watching what her guest was doing, sprang forward with a cry and snatched Triptolemus from the fire. Then Ceres assumed her own form, and a divine splendor shone all around. While they “Mother, you have been cruel in your fondness to your son. I would have made him immortal, but you have frustrated my attempt. Nevertheless, he shall be great and useful. He shall teach men the use of the plough, and the rewards which labor can win from the cultivated soil.”

 Meanwhile, in Tartarus Persephone was sad and lonely, too. She tried to make her new home a more beautiful place, but nothing helped. The ground was too cold to planet seeds, and there was no sunshine to help them grown. Finally she asked Hades to let her return to Earth. “But you are the Queen of the Underworld. Not many girls have the chance to be a queen. I am sure you will be happy here if you only stay a while longer,” Hades replied. Persephone eventually became friends with Cerberus. Although he looked ferocious, he was lonely just like her. Sometimes he walked with her through the gloomy caves of the Underworld. However, even with her new friend, Persephone missed the sunny days and lush fields where she had played on Earth. Ceres continued to search for her daughter, passing from land to land, and across seas and rivers, till at length she returned to Sicily, whence she at first set out, and stood by the banks of the River Cyane, where Hades made himself a passage with his prize to his own dominions. The river nymph witnessed, but dared not, for the fear of Hades; so she only ventured to take up the girdle which Proserpine had dropped in her flight, and waft it to the feet of the mother. Ceres, seeing this, was no longer in doubt of her loss, but she did not yet know the cause and laid the blame on the innocent land. “Ungrateful soil,” she said, “which I have endowed with fertility and clothes with herbage and nourishing grain, no more shall you enjoy my favors.”

 Then the cattle died, the plough broke in the furrow, the seed failed to come up; there was too much sun, there was too much rain; the birds stole the seeds—thistles and brambles were the only growth. Seeing this, the fountain Arethusa interceded for the land. “Goddess, she said, “blame not the land; it opened unwillingly to yield a passage to your daughter. I can tell you of her fate, for I have seen her. This is not my native country; I came hither from Elis. I was a woodland nymph, and delighted in the chase. They praised me for my beauty, but I cared nothing for it, and rather boasted of my hunting exploits. One day I was returning from the woods, heated with exercise, when I came to a stream silently flowing, so clear that you might count the pebbles on the bottom. The willows shaded it, and the grassy bank sloped down to the water’s edge. I approached, I touched the water with my foot. I stepped in knee-deep, and not content with that, I laid my garments on the willows and went in. While I sported in the water, I heard an indistinct murmur coming up as out of the depths of the stream; and made haste to escape to the nearest bank. The voice said, “Why do you fly, Arethusa? I am sure; he was not more swift than I, but he was stronger, and gained upon me, as my strength failed. At least, exhausted, I cried for help to Diana. ‘Help me, goddess! Help your votary!’ The goddess heard and wrapped me suddenly in a thick cloud. The river god looked now this way and now that, and twice came close to me, but could not find me. ‘Arethusa! Arethusa!’ he cried. O, how I trembled—like a lamb that hears the wolf growling outside the fold. A cold swear came over me, my hair flowed down to the streams; were my foot stood there was a pool. In short, in less time than it takes to tell it I became a fountain. However, in this form Alpheus knew me, and attempted to mingle his stream with mine. Diana cleft the ground, and I, endeavoring to escape plunged into the cavern, and through the bowels of the Earth out here in Sicily. While I passed through the lower parts of the Earth, I saw your Proserpine. She was sad, but no longer showing alarm in her countenance. Her look was such as become a queen—the queen of Erebus; the powerful bride of the monarch of the realms of the dead.”

 When Ceres heard this, she stood for a while like one stupefied then turned to her chariot towards Heaven and hastened to present herself before the throne of Jove. She told her story of her bereavement, and implored Jupiter to interfere to procure the restitution of her daughter. Jupiter consented on one condition, namely, that Proserpine should not during her stay in the lower world have taken any food; otherwise, the fates forbade her release. Accordingly, Mercury was sent accompanied by Spring, to demand Proserpine of Hades. The wily monarch consented; but alas! Proserpine has eaten the food of the dead! The maiden had taken a pomegranate which Hades offered her, and had sucked the sweet pulp from a few of the seeds. This was enough to prevent her complete release; but a compromise was made, by which she was to pass half the time with her mother, and the rest with her husband Hades. Ceres allowed herself to be pacified with this arrangement and restored the Earth to her favor. Now she remembered Celeus and his family, and her promise to his infant son Triptolemus. When the boy grew up, she taught him the use of the plough, and how to sow the seed. She took him in her chariot, drawn by winged dragons, through all the countries of the Earth, imparting to mankind valuable grains, and the knowledge of agriculture. After his return, Triptolemus built a magnificent temple to Ceres in Eleusis, and established and worship of the goddess, under the splendor and solemnity of their observance, surpassed all other religious celebrations among the Greeks.

 There can be little doubt if this story of Ceres and Proserpine being an allegory. Proserpine signifies the virgin, which, when is cast into the World, lies there concealed—the is, she is carried off by the god of the underworld; it reappears—that is, Proserpine is restored to her mother, Spring leads her back to the light of day. Therefore, cherish what you have and stand guard. It may not seem like much to you know, but when you lose your virtue, it can throw your life and the lives of others out of balance. Keep waiting on that night in shinny armor and one day he will appear, but do not make him the center of your life. Stay focused so you do not get your heartbroken. One of the most important things you can do for yourself is to realize how many assets and good features you really have. Many people discount most of their good qualities as unimportant, assume everyone has them, or fail to recognize them using this checklist, make an inventory of the assets you have. Not all those that apply to you, and others you can think of. 

 

Being alive and able to move

At least one living relative

Good health

At least one brother or sister

Parents who took care of you and did not abandon you

Parents who care about or love each other

Parents who wanted to marry each other

Parents who wanted children

Feeling accepted into your family

Feeling that your parents loved you

Parents who treat you with respect

Parents who love life

A home where you can express your feelings

Privacy and some personal possessions

Physical strength and vitality

A feeling of sexual identity

Sexual feelings and desires

Healthy sexual goals

Ability to function productively

An acceptable physical appearance

Exceptional good looks

A good sense of humor

A good mind and the ability to use it

The ability to read, memorize, and use concepts

The ability to understand your feelings and those of others

A good imagination

Awareness of the beauty of the World

Ability to create and be artistic

Ability to express yourself

Ability to complete a job or task

Ability to set and reach goals in your life

Some education

Ability to earn a living

Beneficial and/or creative ambitions

Realization of the advantage of your own age

Ability to tolerate at least some frustration

Ability to be alone and enjoy it

Ability to tolerate at least some anxiety

Ability to do things for yourself and others

Enough money to get alone

A liking for people

Honesty

Ability to encounter other people

Ability to be involved with other people

Ability to love and be loved

Ability to empathize with other people

Ability to feel intensely

Ability to feel contented

The capacity to develop new interest

Good judgment

Ability to assert yourself

A sense of humility

A sense of knowing your assets

 Many of these many not seem like real assets to you, because you may take them for granted. However, take a moment to go back over the items you checked and think how your life would be different if you did not have each asset. Now do the following: (a) list several assets that you do not have, but would like to develop; (b) describe how you might be able to develop them. Next, try to develop each of these assets one at a time. Real love and truth are stronger in the end than any evil or misfortune.

  The Winchester Mystery House

Over the past century, many terrifying incidents that researchers consider extremely paranormal have taken place in The Winchester Mystery House. https://winchestermysteryhouse.com/

Avoiding Shifts in Person and Code Switching

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Crimes are human errors, and signify but little; perhaps the worse a man is by nature, the more room there is for grace. Gratitude is not a passion, but a sentiment of the soul. Great endowments cannot long be concealed. Nonetheless, I have been speaking with people, and sometimes find myself confused as to what they are trying to communicate because of shifts in person.

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To understand the meaning of “person” when using pronouns, imagine a conversation between two people about a third person, the first person speaks using “I, me, my…,” the second person would be called, “you”; and when the two of them talked of a third person, they would say “he, she, they…” You should never forget the idea of “person” if you remember it as a three part conversation.

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First person: I, me, my, we us, our

Second person: you, your

Third person: he, him, his, she, her, hers, they, them, their, one, anyone.

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You may use all three of these groups of pronouns in a paper, but do not shit from one group to another without good reason.

Wrong: Few people know how to manage their time. One need not be an efficiency expert to realize that one could get a lot more done if he budgeted his time. Nor do you need to work very hard to get more organized.

Better: Everyone should know how to manage his or her time. One need not be an efficiency expert to realize that a person could get a lot more done if one budgeted one’s time. Nor does one need to work very hard to get more organized. (Too many one’s in a paragraph make it sound overly formal, and they led to the necessity of avoiding sexism by using s/he, or he or she, etc. Sentences can be revised to avoid using either you or one.)

Best: Many of us do not know how to manage our time. We need not be efficiency experts to realize that we could get a lot more done if we budgeted our time. Nor do we need to work very hard to get more organized.

Often students write you in a paper when they do not really mean you, the readers.

You would not believe how many times I saw that movie.

Such sentences are always improved by getting rid of the you.

I saw that movie many times.

Peace is with those who Love.

Peace is with those who Love.

The Easkoot House

 

Nighttime was falling over the town of Stinson Beach. The people who lived there were doing what they did every ordinary day. Women stood on their doorsteps talking about the harvest. Children played in the in the town square. No one knew it, but something special was about to happen. It all began with a humming noise. The people of Stinson Beach Healdsburg lined up along Main Street and looked down the road. The humming kept getting louder. It was like the way you would hum to yourself if you were happy. Someone was coming down the road. People began to whisper to each other.  Surely the ghostliest ghost around is Captain Alfred Easkoot, who wanders the misty shores of Marin on stormy nights searching, searching for his golden hook. Visitors came from near and far, but no one had seen a person who looked like this before. The stranger was as small as a boy, but he had a long, brown beard. He walked closer and closer, and the humming got louder and louder. In life, Easkoot had a withered hand to which a golden hook was fixed. In death, as his casket was carried across the sand, the hook somehow became detached and was washed out to sea. It would be hard to find a more classic example of folk fantasy and yet there are many over the years who claim to have seen the shadowy form of the old sea captain silhouetted against the dunes of Stinson Beach. Still more have testified to poltergeist phenomena in the captain’s house. “Do you think he speaks out language?” whispered one man. “Has he come to town to buy or sell?” wondered another. Soon the crowd was quiet. That is when they heard what the stranger was humming: “Any work for Aiken Drum? Any work for Aiken Drum?” What was an Aiken Drum? No one seemed to know. The people were more curious than ever. Alfred Derby Easkoot was born in Manchester, Massachusetts, on 3 February 1820. At the age of nine, he went to seas as a cabin boy. Four years later, he was severely injured in a fire at sea that scarred his face and turned one hand into a withered claw. 

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After his recovery, young Easkoot went back to sea, eventually becoming a ship’s captain and master of a merchant ship sailing between Philadelphia and South America. Later Captain Easkoot’s own lumber schooner went around on Duxbury Reef near Stinson Beach. He survived the wreck and built a house from the remnants that washed ashore, and then went on to become Marin County’s first surveyor and a successful businessman. He lived alone and apparently content until he fell in love with Amelia Dumas, a wealthy and stylish Philadelphian. How the crusty old salt managed to woo and wed a beautiful and elegant woman, with the romantic name of Amelia, is another mystery, but he did. Then Granny, the wisest woman in the town, had something to say. “I think Aiken Drum is what our visitor calls himself,” she announced. “I believe he is a brownie” Granny hopped off the stump. She shook the brownie’s hand. “Speak up, Brownie,” said Granny. So he did. The brownie had traveled far from his home. “The ways of brownies are very different from the ways of people,” explained Aiken Drum. “In our land, we learn to do good by serving others. The little brownie explained there was not enough work in his land. “I do not need money, clothes, or fancy living,” said the brownie. “I just need a dry place to sleep and something warm to drink at bedtime.”

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The captain’s (brownie) snug cabin was torn down and redesigned to suit the taste of his eastern bride. The original timbers may still be seen in the stairway of the graceful New England Colonial. Easkoot made wise land investments and ten years after his wedding in 1871, retired from surveying and established a resort campground called Easkoot’s Beach, where the public beach is today. The captain was a beloved figure among vacationers at the beach. He took visitors on fishing trips, played with children and presided over sing a longs and taffy pulls. He promised to do any kind of work. All of the town’s people stared at each other, tongue tied. “I have heard that brownies are the best workers,” Granny told her neighbors. “If there is a town that needs a helping hand, it is Stinson Beach,” she added. Granny was right. The new church needed building. The bridge needed mending. All those jobs needed people to do them. That is how the captain, now being called brownie came to live in Stinson Beach. The blacksmith let Aiken Drum sleep in a corner of his barn (he has so many names). Granny brought the brownie a warm drink at the end of each day. Life went well for Easkoot (Captain also known as Brownie and Aiken Drum) until 1886 when Amelia rose from the dinner table in great pain and collapsed. She died in Easkoot’s arms. There were rumors of foul play by the captain, but an autopsy revealed that she had died of a ruptured heart.

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The rest of the towns people tried to spot Easkoot whenever they could. He was always hurrying to one place or another. No one really saw him do any work. In fact, Easkoot seemed to do all of his work at night! Every morning, the blacksmith found only an empty mug. Soon, all of the people in Stinson Beach were sharing stories about the magical work of the little brownie. Easkoot was alone again, but no longer contented with his lot. The once outgoing businessman became an embittered recluse, who patrolled the beach with a spyglass searching for trespassers. The proud manor house was allowed to fall into disrepair until it was almost obscured by vines and bushes. It is said that it was at this time that the captain affixed a golden hook to his withered hand. Competition developed between Easkoot and Nathan Stinson, the Point Reyes dairy farmer for whom the town was named, for the area’s seashore business. The rivalry became an obsession that absorbed Easkoot until his death of a heart attack on 10 December 1905. That Easkoot’s home would eventually become the property of Stinson, Eve Stinson Fitzherny, seems the final irony. The house enjoyed a brief renaissance during Mrs. Fitzherny’s ownership, in the 1930s. Charming gardens were planted and groves of trees, now grown tall, totally concealing the house and blocking the sea views as well. It was during this period that stories began to circulate concerning the place.  Doors opened and closed at their own volition.

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Light in the house flashed on and off of their own accord. There were unexplainable cold spots and smells. Tales were told of the shadowy figure of a man with a loose, dangling sleeve and a seaman’s cap. It was feared that the captain’s soul was tormented, doomed to search forever for his hook. Residents said that every night at 2, the hour of his death, Captain Easkoot came stomping into his home. A couple who occupied the house were awakened one night by their bed’s fierce shaking. Horrified, they saw a shadowy figure leering at them from the foot of the bed, a whiskered gentleman with a seaman’s cap and a dangling sleeve. The phantom waved the sleeve, gurgled incoherently, and walked away on creaking shoes. Soon after, they heard heavy footsteps on the walnut staircase, followed by violent thumps against the hollow walls of the attic. Easkoot fixed a broken wheel on my wagon last night. He must have known that I was going to take my flour to the miller today,” chuckled Baker Fitzhenry. “While I was asleep with fever, Easkoot came. He cleaned my whole house and cooked a big batch of soup! crowed Antiquated Mother Fitzhenry. Not surprisingly, the house was sold and resold, changing hands several times. Then in March of 1976, great clouds of smoke were seen pouring from the house. The blaze gutted parts of the interior blackened the outside and destroyed thousands of dollars worth of antiques and paintings. Fortunately, no one was in the house at the time. Rumors are rampant, but the official fire report, accepted by the insurance company, lists the cause as a defective electric heater. Though many belongings remained about the charred house, the tenants never returned. Their whereabouts are still unknown. “Easkoot brought all my sheep to safety. He took them into the barn just before last night’s storm!” Exclaimed Farmer Adams. Where work needed to be done, Easkoot was there. No one even had to ask. One evening, as the mayor was leaving his office, he thought about asking Easkoot (who passed away on 10 December 1905) to help him in the morning. However, the very next morning, the work was already done. The only evidence of the little Easkoot was the empty mug he left behind.  

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Since so much work was being done, the townspeople wondered if Easkoot ever took breaks. And they worried that he was not getting enough sleep. “He must be so tired,” they said. “We must give him a vacation!” “I do not need a vacation, I take plenty of breaks when people are not looking,” Easkoot said. In 1984, Leonard Chapman, personnel manager with the Southern Pacific Transportation Company, and his wife, Judy, dead of students at Dominican College, and their daughter Renata, then 14, bought the house. “I know this place has a reputation for being haunted,” Leonard Chapman told Kevin Leary, a reporter for the San Francisco Chronicle, “but I have never seen the ghost. If we have one, I am sure he is a happy ghost, and I would like to meet him.” “Oh, a few things have happened since we moved in, but they are all explainable, just about.” Maybe so, but Cinno, the family’s 100-pound malamute apparently does not agree. When brought into the house, the hackles of the usually mild-mannered dog went up. She dug in her paws and tried to jump out of the window, leaving claw marks on the sill. Cinno, a former house dog, now prefers to sleep outside. A few days after the family moved in, and before their new burglar alarm was hooked up, the alarm bell began ringing for no apparent reason. “We have an expensive and sophisticated system; it has not been connected and yet there it was ringing at 2am.” Leo Chapman recalls. He ran up to the attic and tried to disconnect the wires, but the alarm just kept ringing. “I was hugging the bell trying to smother the sound so it would not wake the neighbors; but nothing helped. Then it just shut off by itself after about ten minutes.

 Then the action seemed to focus on Renata. She was doing her homework in her bedroom when a scratching noise suddenly began to emanate from under the bed. Renata peered beneath the spread but saw nothing. Then unaccountably the mattress began bouncing up and down. And so the legend continues. It is easy to imagine the misanthropic captain continues to view trespassers with hostility. At night, when fog shrouds the coast and whitecaps dot the swirling surf, lights make flicker unaccountably inside the house. “Maybe it is the captain,” someone invariably suggests. And who is to say he is wrong?  Legend has it that someone tried to pay Captain Easkoot for his work. Well, you can guess what happened. He disappeared that very night. No one saw him go. After that, each day in Stinson Beach was just like any other day. The people often spoke of Captain Easkoot with broken hearts and heavy sighs. The children were saddest of all. Still, once in a while when the wind was just right, they could hear the sound of humming floating across the beach. The Easkoot house, a private house, is located at 3548 Shoreline Highway in Stinson Beach. The house recently sold again, in July of 2014, for $1,875,000.00. It is 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, and 2,800 square feet. Please do not disturb.

 

 

 

 

 

There are some who have Wisdom in their Anger

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All bodily racks and torments are nothing compared with certain states of the human mind. People often do the idlest acts of their lifetime in their heaviest and most anxious moments. Insanity is a legal term that refers to an inability to manage one’s affairs or foresee the consequences of one’s actions.

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Persons who are declared insane are not legally responsible for their actions. If necessary, they can be involuntarily committed to a mental hospital. An example is Mark David Chapman, who was declared insane after he killed former member of a band, called the Beatles, John Lennon. Mark David Chapman claimed that devils forced him to kill John Lennon.

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Ye are worse than brute beasts in your actions, and will you imitate them in their very dumbness? Legally, insanity is established by testimony from expert witnesses (psychologist and psychiatrists). An expert witness is a person recognized by a court of law as being qualified to give opinions on a specific topic. In practice, those who are involuntarily committed are usually judged to be a danger to themselves or to others (I supposed of the things one has seen and knows could qualify them as a threat), or they are severely mentally disabled.

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Schizophrenic delusions can be bizarre. They often include the idea that the person’s thoughts and actions are being controlled, that thoughts are being broadcast (so that others can hear them), that thoughts have been “inserted” into the person’s mind, or that thought have been removed.

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Does a schizophrenic person have two personalities?

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Schizophrenia does not refer to having more than one personality. Recall from our earlier discussion that multiple identity is a non-psychotic, dissociative disorder. For instance, Ryan was so warm and friendly yesterday, but today he is as cold as ice. He is so schizophrenic sometimes that I do not know how to react. This statement shows how often the term schizophrenic is misused. As you know, even a person who displays two or more personalities (a dissociative disorder) is not “schizophrenic.” Neither, of course, is a person like Ryan, who behavior is merely inconsistent.

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On a more technical level, schizophrenia is often confused with a personality disorder that resembles it somewhat. Recall that personality disorders are maladaptive personality patterns. One such pattern is the schizotypal personality, a non-psychotic disorder involving withdrawal, social isolation, and odd behavior, but no break with reality. Starting in adolescence, affected persons slowly become isolated, emotionally withdrawn, listless, and apathetic, and many are considered odd, shiftless, or eccentric. Their behavior, at times, may be markedly peculiar (collecting garbage, leaving used cigarette on someone’s property, talking to oneself, pretending to be someone else, and so forth).

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Problems of this type do resemble some aspects of schizophrenia. However, the schizotypal personality, like other personality disorders, does not involve a psychotic break with reality. Many individuals with schizotypal personality simply live colorless and isolated lives on the fringes of society as vagrants, eccentrics, derelicts, or prostitutes.

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Disorganized schizophrenia (sometimes called hebephrenic schizophrenia) comes close to matching the stereotyped images of madness seen in movies. In disorganized schizophrenia, personality disintegration is almost complete: Emotions, speech, and behavior are all highly disorganized. The result is silliness, laughter, and bizarre or obscene behavior, as shown by this intake interview of a patient:

Doctor: I am Dr. Harris. I would like to know something more about you.

Patient: You have a nasty mind. Lord! Lord! Cat’s in a cradle.

Doctor: Tell me, how do you feel?

Patient: London’s bell is long, long dock. Hee! Hee! (Giggles uncontrollably, also known as the Clown Haha Virus).

Doctor: Do you know where you are now?

Patient: Damn! Shit on you all who rip into my internals! My gaydar will take care of you all! (Shouting) I am the Queen, see my magic, I shall turn you into demons forever.

Doctor: Your family is concerned about you. Do you know who they are?

Patient (Stands, walks to and faces the wall): Who am I, who are we, who are you, who are they, (turns) I….I….I…I am the Great one! (Makes grotesque faces.)

Kenny was placed in the men’s ward where he proceeded to masturbate. Occasionally, he would scream or shout obscenities. At other times he giggled to himself. He was known to attack other patients. He began to complain that his anus was attached to a pipeline and Santa Barbara and that he was being infernally invaded by Communism.

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Disorganized Schizophrenia typically develops in early adolescence or young adulthood. It is often preceded by serious personality disorganization in earlier years. Chances of improvement are limited, and social impairment is usually extreme.

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Disorganized  Schizophrenia is denoted by incoherence, grossly disorganized behavior, bizarre thinking, and flat or grossly inappropriate emotions.

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Catatonic type Schizophrenia is marked by stupor, rigidity, unresponsiveness, posturing, mutism, and sometimes, agitated, purposeless behavior.

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Paranoid type Schizophrenia is marked by a preoccupation with delusions or frequent auditory hallucinations related to a single theme, especially grandeur or persecution.

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Undifferentiated type Schizophrenia in which there are prominent psychotic symptoms, but none of the specific features of catatonic, disorganized, or paranoid types.

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The causes of Schizophrenia: An increased risk of developing schizophrenia may begin at birth or even before. Women who are exposed to the influenza virus during the middle of pregnancy have children who are more likely to become schizophrenic. Malnutrition during pregnancy and complications at the time of birth can have a similar impact. Possibly, such events disturb brain development, leaving people more vulnerable to psychosis.

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Early psychological trauma (a psychological injury or shock) may also ass to the risk of developing Schizophrenia. Often, the victims of schizophrenia were exposed to violence, sexual abuse, death, divorce, separation, or other stresses in childhood. Living in a troubled family is a related risk factor.

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In a disturbed family environment, stressful relationships, communication patterns, and negative emotions prevail. For example, a 15 year study found that the chance of developing schizophrenia is related to deviant communication within families.

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Deviant communication patterns cause anxiety, confusion, anger, conflict, and turmoil. Typically, disturbed families interact in ways that are laden with guilt, prying, criticism, negativity, and emotional attacks.

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Although they are attractive, environmental explanations alone are not enough to account for schizophrenia. For examples, when the children of schizophrenic parents are raised away from their chaotic home environment, they are still more likely to become psychotic.

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Does that mean that heredity is a factor in schizophrenia?

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Evidence for heredity as a factor is in schizophrenia has grown stronger in recent years. It now appears that some individuals inherit a potential for developing schizophrenia. They are, in other words, more vulnerable to this disorder than others are. Researchers are even starting to identify specific genes related to schizophrenia. Apathy is a vice more hateful than all the errors of sensibility. An offense cannot be wiped out by an apology. If it could, we would substitute apologies for hangings.

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Heroes think with their Hands

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When a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way. The man who is a hero can withstand unjust opinion. There are heroes in words as well as heroes in blows.

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Thinking disorders, is your voice healthy? Decrease blaming, stop making “You statements.” Use more empathy to understand what others are going through. Some people are really not connected and have nothing to talk about, so they say nothing. I may need to increase my level of respect for myself.

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Maybe this is not the time for us to communicate, I am not sure that you are being genuine. We need to focus on our own behavior, not our intentions. I have to forgive myself and increase my personal responsibility.

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What is bothering us? What is the feeling? Personally, I feel like I am dying because I am under a lot of stress and get not much love. I have been working hard to earn more money, and it is not working out. There are things that you cannot see. I am technically healthy, but I see something and feel things you do not.

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I do not feel safe because I am always being…I do not even feel like talking about this, it is none of your business, but I hope that you pay the consequences for your actions very soon. I assume that the law is here to protect everyone. I choose to communicate in person. There is no reason to be more assertive because no one takes responsibility for their actions.

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We need to talk about why I am being targeted and why this is still happening? I cannot change this situation, I cannot change this situation. There is really nowhere for me to go right now.

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By not leaving, I am saying that the way you guys treat me is okay, but I do not have the financial responsibility to leave because no one respects my rights. Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. Accept things as they are.

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How can you say that someone should not be alive, so I can treat him however I want because he should be dead anyway. However, many of you should have never been born. Without medicine, the World population would not be as large as it is now, and you guys should have never been born.

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Possible….that it could all be wonderful. Sweet the sound, as all the stars come crashing down. But I will wait for you. Meet me in the blue.

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Afterglow, some things you just do not need to know came crashing in, battered your heart and bruised your shins, but I will wait for you if you ask me to.

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The day is calling you, roll out and start anew. Wipe your weary eyes and tumble out of the sky. Because the day is calling you, roll out and start anew, wipe your weary eyes and tumble out of the sky.

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Out of the sky,  I will wait for you, if you ask me to. When I reflect upon the number of disagreeable people who I know have gone to a better World, I am moved to lead a different life. I have fun with the urban women, they are fun, and add a little spice to life.

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In those days people will seek death but will not find it. They will long to die, but death will flee from them!

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Brainwashing is a form of forced attitude change. It depends on control of the target person’s total environment. Three steps in brainwashing are unfreezing, changing, and refreezing attitudes and beliefs.

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Many religious and self-styled religious cults recruit new members with high pressure indoctrination (reeducation) techniques resembling brainwashing (cohesion, force, or threat).

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Four decision points that must be passed before a person gives help are: noticing, defining an emergency, taking responsibility, and selecting a course of action. Helping is less likely at each point when other potential helpers are present.

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Helping is encouraged by emphatic arousal ( sense how others may be feeling about how I am behaving or what I am experiencing) and similarity between the victims and the helper. For several reasons, giving help tends to encourage others to help, too.

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Self assertion (stating your needs and expectations), as opposed to aggression ( displaying hostility or militant actions), involves clearly stating one’s wants and needs to others. Learning to be assertive is accomplished by role-playing, rehearsing assertive actions, over-learning, and use of specific techniques, such as the “broken record.”

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Status inequalities (unequal roles for the same job) tend to build prejudice. Equal status contact tends to reduce it. Subordinate (supporting) goals help to reduce inter-group (family, friends, coworkers) conflict. One a smaller scale, cooperation through mutual interdependence (everyone does their own job and minds their own business), has been shown to combat prejudice.

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And my attitudes are made up of a belief component (my experiences), an emotional component (how I am feeling), and an action component (what has happened). Heaven mocks the short sighted views of man. Hell is but the chimera (monster that breathes fire and has a lion’s head, a goat’s body, and snakes tail) of priests, to bubble idiots and cowards.

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Project Ghetto Storm II

 

The World’s most peaceful societies actively teach their children to be cooperative, non-violent, and helpful. One a personal level, psychologists have succeeded in teaching some people to control their anger and aggressive impulses. Anger control refers to personal strategies for reducing or curbing anger. The key to remaining calm is to define upsetting situation as problems to be solved. Therefore, to limit anger, people are taught to: Define the problem as precisely as possible. Make a list of the possible solutions. Rank the likely success of each solution. Choose a solution and try it. Assess how successful the solution was, and make adjustments if necessary. Taking these steps has helped many people to lessen tendencies toward child abuse, family violence, and other destructive outbursts. 

Large scale efforts have also had some success. For instance, a program called “Youth Against Violence: Choose to De-Fuse” was developed in New York City to help hood and ghetto youths resist violence. The program is focused on creating beneficial peer pressure for choosing non-violent solutions to conflict. The use of real-life situations, speech, and body language added to the effectiveness of the program. For the more immediate future, it is clear that we need more people who are willing to engage in prosocial behavior (actions that are constructive, altruistic, or helpful to others). Late one night, tenants of a Queens, New York, apartment building watched and listened in horror as a young woman named Kitty Genovese was murdered on the sidewalk outside. From the safety of their rooms, no fewer than 38 people heard the agonized screams as her assailant stabbed her, was frightened off, and returned to stab her again.

 Kitty Genovese’s murder took over 30 minutes, but none of her neighbors tried to help. None even called the police until after the attack ended. Perhaps it is understandable that no one wanted to get involved. After all, it could have been a violent lovers’ quarrel. Or helping might have meant risking personal injury. However, what prevented people from at least calling the police? Is this not an example of the alienation of city life? News reports treated this incident as evident of a breakdown in social ties caused by the impersonality of the city, or maybe because her neighbors were jealous of her? While it is true that living in the ghetto or the hood can be dehumanizing, as people act like ignorant ghetto trash, who just want to pop out an army of babies so they can get welfare, food stamps, and medi-cal. These hood rats, their goals in life are to smoke weed, smell like old chicken grease, eat barbecue, and watermelon, and drink Kool-aid out of jars, while they get their hair weaves, on the front steps, gossip, and perform oral sex for $5 in alley ways.  However, this does not fully explain bystander apathy (unwillingness of bystanders to offer help during emergencies). Many of them get off on violence and chaos.

 

 

 

 

California is Failing with People with have Intellectual Disabilities

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California is failing with people, who have intellectual disabilities. Many facilities, who host adults, with intellectual disabilities, are underfunded. Although it may cost as much as $500,000.00 a year to for a facility to take care of people with intellectual disabilities, Governor Jerry Brown wants to close these facilities and put them in community programs, which cost only $19,000.00 a year to run, so these people can get jobs and live among others.

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The problem is people with intellectual disabilities sometimes have issues, which they need treatment for and they do not get that treatment. Then they get jobs and take their issues out on others, and create dangerous situations. Many of these people are put in positions of power and do not conceptual realize what they are doing wrong because they do not understand the rules.

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I actually living in a high-rise building and some of these people that live here have intellectual disabilities. First of all, one is not going to always get along with everyone, all the time, but most adults know how to be civil and respect others. However, when people have intellectual disabilities, they do not necessarily understand what deviant behavior or risky behavior is.

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For security reasons, the doors are locked in this building, to keep people out. However, someone with an intellectual disability props the door open, which backs up to an alley and leaves it unattended. Now, we are not even allowed to prop the doors open, and there are signs that say that. Anyone or anything can get in like thieves, rats, and bugs.

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I posted a note and asked people not to prop the doors open. Someone was assaulted in this building over the weekend, and I am not sure that it was due to the door being left open, but nonetheless it should not be. Also, a few weeks ago, at 3am, someone was beating on the door to my apartment and twisting the handle to the door, talking about, “My TV is not work.” I did inquire who was at my door, but I did not open it. In the past I have had issues with people kicking on my door, and the police told me to just keep it shut, so this time I knew not to open it.

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Sometimes I forget that someone of these people are mentally disabled and interact with them like they are just regular people, and I have been seriously assaulted several times. I got strangled, while I was driving one of them to the supermarket. She choked me twice, with both hands around my neck, and thankfully I was able to pull over.

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I went to dinner with another one of these people who is mentally disabled and he ended up getting me really drunk, pushing me to the ground, our floors are concrete, and I hit my hand and fractured my spine in two places, and something else happened, but I do not want to get into that.

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So back to this note about the doors being left open, this young lady, who has an intellectual disability took it down before anyone saw it. And I was upset because I have been assaulted and I am concerned about my security and there have been a lot of unusual people hanging around here. So I asked the young lady if that was her who had been leaving the door open and she admitted to doing it sometime, and then she got loud with me and got an attitude and told me she thinks I was trying to check her and had her man run up on me, as if to scare me.

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This same young lady has run up on other men and cursed them out. I witnessed her putting her hands in the face of another man because she did not like something he said at a tenant meeting and she also was screaming and yelling at a senior citizen. This young lady is the President of the resident advisory board, for this particular building, and she takes this position a little too seriously. They do not have any real authority and not many people like to attend the resident meetings because there is a lot of bickering and issues are never resolved. So this young lady goes on to tell me that I need to attend these meetings and bring my concerns about the doors being left open there.

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First of all, the meetings are not mandatory, and I have a life outside of this building. And even if I have free time, I do not want to spend it listening to people bicker, talk negatively about others, and make plans for improvements that may or may not happen. While I am thankful to have an apartment, as this is my first time living on my own, I would have never moved here if I knew what kind of situation I was getting into. This place has not always been that bad. I have been here for seven years, and in the past we have had presidents who actually care and do not let the title go to their heads.

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The purpose of having a president of the building is to coordinate events, host fund raisers, and make sure things  are going smoothly. However, that young lady is intellectually disabled and has some unresolved issues in her life.  All I am saying if you are going to have intellectually disabled adults living on their own and in the community, some of them need to be supervised because a few of them have serious mental disabilities and they are a threat to others.

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I think it is sad that Governor Jerry Brown wants to shut down facilities that house people with intellectual disabilities because it puts others at risk. They do things like leave doors in the alley open. Fry frozen chicken start grease fires and burn themselves, and use a barbecue grill, which is chained to a fence with wood slates and vegetation growing out of it. And experts recommend that if you use a barbecue grill, there needs to be ten feet of defensible space around it, to reduce the risk of a fire. Not only are these people putting their lives in danger, but the entire community as well. In the past the fire department used to come out to this building weekly.

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It would be a shame if this building, which is income based rent, was shut down because many people will not find anything nearly as nice as this apartment. It really is like a hotel, and the apartments are a nice size, with a great room that has a large floor to ceiling sliding glass door, which leads to a cute terrace, and large kitchen, bed room with a floor to ceiling window, and a pretty spacious bathroom. There is also plenty of storage, and a killer view. I was sold when I saw the view and could not wait to move in.

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So some people need more help than they are getting and need to be treated by a doctor. Since I have been living here, I developed anxiety issues from dealing with some of the people, and it is not fair to me or the community to have to deal with people who do not want to even help themselves. Some people even try to stay away from their apartments, as long as they can legally, so they do not have to deal with these adults with serious intellectual disabilities.

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Sometimes people in the facilities, who host people with intellectual disabilities may get harmed, but the occurrences are fairly low and it is safer than having someone think they are moving into income based housing, then find out they are living among drunks and people who are psychotic and violent. In a facility, the staff is trained to deal with people who are intellectually disabled.  A lot of these senior citizens are scared of them, and others are extremely annoyed. If your friends do not really love you, they will stay shunning you, and as far as starting a relationship with people in the community, it will not last when they see what kind of people you live around.  And when you get hurt, there is really no one you can sue, as the people are poor. You just have to take the fractures, blows, and bruises until you can move to somewhere better. Had I known what I was getting into, I would not have moved here, and in the past, I did have other options.

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I have been thinking, I have been thinking, I get Deep in Thought

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A kiss for a blow is always best, though not easy. What I would not do for kindness, I would not do for money. I am so used to having an object of affection, but I have been getting out a little more and my eyes are opening, and I am not sure that I am really ready to be fixed on one person.

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I am so used to people coming into my life and like waiting on them, and this has been a pattern for like…nearly ten years. However, today I was out and talking with a few of the ladies and I saw someone who really caught my eyes, and it made me realize that I may not be ready to be on reserve for someone. Not only that, but I am starting to get to know myself better and I like myself a lot more.

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Yet, I have some issues, nothing really too major, and I wonder how someone would respond to them, after getting to know me. It is really something personal and somethings not so personal. Nonetheless, that is the point of dating, do you care enough to be with someone who is not perfect. It is not anything too serious, but it is abnormal, but really not that big of a concern.

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Still, you know most people are looking for money and someone perfect, and that is just not me. I have flaws, nor am I rich.  And also, I have to stop objectifying people. Like I place them on a soap box and think the best about them, and they really may not be that good. You know, I want to get to know someone, not just have encounters and fanaticize about how wonderful they are.  You know, for once I want someone to impress me and pay attention to me. I want someone to understand me and get to know me.

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Though they had kicked me downstairs every day I presented myself at her door. That is my way of fascinating women. Let the man who has to make his fortune in life remember this maxim. Attacking is his only secret, Dare, and the World always yields: or, if it beat you sometimes, dare again, and it will succumb.

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The Vietnam War began in 1954 and Ended in 1975

HARRIS2014 020As a man of war that sails through the sea, so this Earth that sails through the air. We mortals are all on board a fast sailing, never sinking, World frigate, of which God was the shipwright; and she is but one craft in a Milky War fleet, of which God is the Lord High Admiral. The port we sail from is forever astern.

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And though far out of sight of land, of ages and ages we continue to sail with sealed orders, and out last destination remains a secret to ourselves and our officers; yet our final haven was predestination ere we slipped from the stocks at Creation.

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Warfare, it has the ability to dramatically alter the lives of people for many generations. War is usually a long-term armed conflict amongst politically organized groups, which results in extensive violence, traumatic injuries, and substantial fatalities.

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Although war usually involves two different nations, sometimes conflicts arise between to different political or religious groups in the same country.

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 Conflicts arise because of overpopulation, land, inequality, limited resources or emotions. Prior to the 16th century, combats were typically small, they did not consist of more than 50,000 people and they did not last for a long. 

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However, because of new technology developed in the 19th and 20th centuries, which include nuclear weapons, machine guns, mass transportation and superior communication devices, war now drag on years, and even decades.  The Vietnam War is an example of a long lasting conflict.

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The Vietnam War began in 1954 and ended in 1975. It took place in Vietnam, which is located in Southeast Asia. 

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This conflict was caused by the Geneva Accords, which split the country into two parts. Ho Chi Minh ruled the communist north and Ngo Dinh Diem was the leader of the south.

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Ho Chi Minh wanted to unify the country under communist leadership.  Nevertheless, the United States was determined to stop the spread of communism.

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The U.S. trained the Army of the Republic of Vietnam and provided military advisors to help rebuff Ho Chi Minh’s efforts of unifying Vietnam under communistic dictatorship.

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The summer of August 1964, a U.S. defense ship was attacked by Ho Chi Minh’s army, which led to deployment of U.S. troops, and March 2, 1965, U.S. aircrafts started bombing targets in North Vietnam. 

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Because Vietnam is a tropical country, with dense vegetation, it was like fighting a war in the jungle.

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To make matters worse, Ho Chi Minh’s troops, the Viet Cong, knew the land of Vietnam; they would set traps for the Americans, sneak up on them and kill them, then duck into an underground escape tunnel and get away.

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Americans realized that if they were going to have a chance of winning the war, they would need to level the battle ground by killing the vegetation.

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From 1961 and 1972, Agent Orange was a herbicide that was used, it burned the leaves off of trees and caused the vegetation to die. However, many soldiers were also sprayed by this toxic Agent Orange.  

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The battle raged on for a few more years, and on April 30, 1975, South Vietnam eventually surrendered and the country of Vietnam was reunited under communist rule.  

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About 58,156 Americans lost their lives during that war, and 3.8 million Vietnamese perished. After U.S. troops returned from Vietnam, many of them had to fight a war of a different kind, and so did their families.

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The side effects of Agent Orange afflicted several veterans with extensive health problems; countless Veterans suffered from neurological disorders, loss or burning of eye sight, constipation, violent vomiting and general loss of sensation. Others came down with intestinal problems, hepatitis or inflammation of the liver, ulcers, gastric hyperplasia.

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Skin problems were also reported. Increased sensitivity to heat and sunlight, hair loss, nails that fell off, changes in skin color and rashes. Numerous veterans developed other side effects including, Parkinson’s disease, heart disease, hypertension, hemorrhages, and cancer. Some veterans were even told that they would only have a few years to live, and that they would never be able to have children.

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But the buck did not stop there.  One of the most unfortunate side effects is Vietnam veterans passed on birth defects to their children, who would have otherwise been born health. The children of Vietnam veterans were often born with enlarged heads, abnormal livers, cleft palate, abnormal or missing digits, missing body parts or organs and Spina Bifida.

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It is clear to see that the impact of war has consequences, which can last many generations, and countless lives can be lost. War can also cause major changes to the environment, which could make some areas uninhabitable.

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When people sign up to defend their country, they do so because they care, they want to protect freedom, and because they want to provide a future for their families.

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Wars are very serious, and maybe one day we will all be able to live in peace.  Through conflict resolution, maybe society will learn to work together. No matter what, someone will always lose a war, but the unborn should not have to spend the rest of their lives suffering.

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Sometimes these disabilities, in the offspring, of Vietnam veterans cannot be seen, and they try to live “normal” lives, but just imagine how hard it is to live a normal life when one’s body does not function the same as everyone else’s, yet they are still held to the same standards.

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Many of them may even be ashamed that they are disabled and it is not their fault, but society is very judgmental of those who are different or work at a different capacity. We have a right to know the truth, no right to ask anything else from God, but the right to ask that.

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We Came Crying Hither: The Sun Halo

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Like most mass media, when major programming innovations occur, which is rare, the cloning begins. The coast to coast sameness of the news formats, and even the on air voices and personalities, has been reinforced by the growth of chain ownership. Chain managers prefer tried and true routes to profits.

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They avoid the risks attendant on striking out in fresh directions. National program services, which pipe programs to stations to relay to the audience, also contribute to the uniformity. In seeking large overall audiences, in diverse parts of the country, these syndicates stick to safe, middle ground, even within their format niches, causing major damages.

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The future promises much of the same unless something occurs that upends the whole industry, and that is what we are trying to do, even if some have to keep writing for free.

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We write to shed light on the obscure. If there is one door in the mansion you have been told not to go through, you must. Otherwise you will keep repeating the same thing.

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Like the film, “Ground Hog’s Day,” with Billy Crystal, repeating the same thing over and over, reminds us of a gramophone playing the same vibration waveforms, recorded as there are no physical deviations of a spiral groove engraved, etched, or impressed into the surface of a rotating cylinder or disc. Most humans are dedicated to keeping that one door shut.

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However, it is a writer’s job to see what is behind the door, to see the uninviting unspeakable stuff, and to turn the appalling into words, not just into any verses, but if we can, turn the words into harmony that spiral and grow, telling the whole story, the real truth. However, you cannot do this without discovering your own true voice, and you cannot find your expressions, unless you are willing to be honest with yourself. News is not just about collecting a welfare check for clocking hours, you need passion, determination, and courage.

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If you are following your peers and they are bitter, angry, racist, or jealous, you cannot report honestly. They are probably are the ones who told you not to open that door in the first place. Truth seems to want expression. Unacknowledged truth saps your energy and keeps you and your characters wired and delusional.

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Most reporters are both afraid and sad and do not quite know what is going on. It is hard to get truth out of them. Many of them tell me these incredibly long, self-important, convoluted stories. It is like they want you to feel sorry for them. Well, guess what, we have all overcome the impossible. Get over yourself!

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My therapist said that jealousy is a secondary emotion and that it is born out of feeling excluded and deprive. If people work on their old feelings, the must do so by getting out and doing things they enjoy and learning to be thankful for their lives, career, family, and salaries. By doing so they will probably break through the jealousy. These reporters feel jaded because they have unresolved issues and hate new and fresh talent. These unhappy reporters have been gossiping and burning fresh faces for almost a decade, and it is because these rogue reporters  are mentally ill and unwilling to seek help, so they lash out at others.

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I have talked to reporters who have been in Alcoholics Anonymous for years, and many of them spend half their time getting sober, but I find it honorable that they still go to work, and they show up sober. I asked this particular journalist what he would tell a newcomers, he replied by saying, “When I see a good looking young man half my age, with as much ambition and determination as you, and in such good shape, I feel all conflicted, wishing that I were that thin, and tan.Yet at the same time, I want to kiss you. Is that jealousy, or the type of appreciation a father show his son?”

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What a wonderful and rare experience. Later that night he took me for a ride in his new BMW 750Li and threw money at me, we went to dinner, and later on passed out in my bed. He was a perfect angel and I did not take his money, I left it on the floor of his car.

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There are an enormous number of people out there with invaluable information to share with you. Of course, it is just more interesting to talk to someone who is sort of keen. If you can think of someone to speak with, who is witty and articulate, it is best, so you can enjoy his or her material. However, these qualities are not absolutely necessary, because you may just be looking for one piece of information, or even a word, or just a hug. He warned me not to get into journalism. He said many reporters are, “A wild pack of demons, looking for someone to devour. Every so often, be warned that you may feel as though you have put your head in a lion’s mouth. I feel like people are patronizing me. Especially the young reporters and many of the giddy women, they are so fake. ”

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I appreciated his honesty. If people do not tell me the truth, I am not going to improve. The next time I saw him, which was like a year later, I did not notice he was trying to get my attention in the supermarket. He was dressed down, he usually wears the most fancy suits, but he was in street clothes and talking to this woman. I totally ignored him because I had been dealing with a nasty pack of reporters, who felt self-important.

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For example, even though they are in your environment, they will say things like, “He is following me, or he is stalking me.” So I just learned to shut people out. A few days later I realized it was the mature reporter I went to dinner with and let sleep over. I felt bad. I guess his feelings were so hurt, he never talked to me again.

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I need attention. I need someone to respond to me as honestly  as possible, but without being abusive or diminishing, and I let that person walk right out the door because of negative experiences from the young reporters. So in my communication, I focus on the fact that I have tried something so difficult, I took such a risk.

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Why sweep down to the river just to fill your mouth with mud. Learn how to fly and hunt. This male has succeeded. The secrecy, the obfuscation, the fact that these monsters can only be hinted at, gives us the sense that they (the young reporters) must be bad indeed. How else can you explain someone who has been working, as a reporter, at the same company, for 19 years and still not a full time anchor? Or a camera operator, who taunts people online and calls it research? They have not discovered their true voice, so they are stuck in a vicious cycle.

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I was raised in a culture that promotes this competitiveness, this instability, this fantasy of needing hundreds of thousands of dollars a year, and then, in the next breath, shames you for feeling love, or longing for a relationship. It is my turn. I am only doing what I have been groomed to do. So I started to feel more alive and get my happiness back. I know how God feels about money, look at who he gives it to and how ugly they act.

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Still, I know some very hard working reporters. There is a young woman, who gets up at 2am, drives to Sacramento, from the Bay Area (about an hour drive) and does not make it home until 9pm. That entire time she is working. Not sure how she does, why, or how long she will continue, but that is amazing. Yet, it sounds like a Greek tragedy waiting to happen. Maybe she needs to free herself from something?

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And my ravaged mind, wounded psyche can and should still be cared for as softly and tenderly as possible. She is not different from me, she just lives the life I always wanted, and makes the money I dream of. Life is an abyss wrapped in the enigma of our own ignorance of the meaning of existence, it peaks echoing with cries of triumph and despair that we are hardly sure are not ours. Partly the play teases us because we have only lately recaptured it as a play. We have no records of its effectiveness in performance.

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