The Mastur(de)baters On Immigration.

    I've been thinking about ideas.  What is an idea?  What do ideas lead to?  Mainly, I've been pondering the concepts that thoughts (ideas) are things, and eventually thoughts or ideas are transformed into physical matter.  Most often, thoughts and ideas are transferred into their physical equivalent by their expression through human bodies.  In others words, thoughts become things through people's actions.

     Let that sink in.


     What do our ideas become?  The answer is as limitless as it is intriguing.  Ideas become:  Books.  Music.  Movies.  Governments.  Businesses.  Corporations.  Religions.  Countries.  Nations.  Collectives.  Systems of currency.  Wealth.  The list goes on.  A gathering of people that stand behind an idea, generally will breathe life into an idea, giving it the momentum to come into fuller fruition.  What happens when ideas (thoughts) compete against each other?  What happens if there is a disjunction?  Usually there is an argument, a conflict of sorts.  It may be resolved, it may not.  But the important question to ask is this:  What happens to the people in between?

      According to what I've been seeing on social media recently....nothing happens to the people in between.  Although this is not true, this is what is presented by the majority of people slandering one another in the name of opinions, then justifying their behavior under the guise of "having a civilized debate."  Sorry old chaps, there's no debate when the other parties don't even have a chance to respond.  I guess Facebook is the new Athens, and, real talk, if someone spoke like that to me in person I would punch them in the face.  Point being, I'm of the school that if someone isn't going to say it to my face, point-blank, man-to-man, then they ought to have the self-respect to hold their itchy keyboard fingers and keep it to themselves on social media.  It's ridiculous....

     I'll admit, though,  sometimes when I see this inane chatter go on for 200+ comments on someone's feed, I may slip in an underhanded remark or two just to get a reaction.  It's always the same-old-same-old, though: "My god is bigger than your god.  My religion is better than your religion.  My politics are better than your politics.  My penis is bigger than you penis", essentially.  I'm always left with the question:  If someone is so thoroughly grounded in what they think they believe, then why do they get so bent out of shape when someone else challenges that belief?  If I've learned two things during my adventures on this planet it is this:

1.          Your beliefs don't amount to a pile of flying monkey turds unless they can withstand scrutiny (or another's opinion, or the trials of day-to-day living.  Theory and application are two very different birds).  Light those turds on fire and see if they still smell like roses.
2.         You don't know what you don't know.   

    A belief is just that though....it's a belief.  An idea is an idea.  A thought is a thought.  A person, on the other hand, is a living, breathing, flesh and blood, body, soul and spirit with beliefs, ideas, and thoughts of their own and literally limitless potential to create beautiful things with their life.  I recently watched (with great amusement and consternation) as a group of Christian intellectuals beat each other senseless verbally over the Immigration issue in the United States.

     I'm not going to go into the issue itself, it goes much deeper than just a mere political solution.  I've lived on both sides of the border so I have a unique perspective on the matter.  People just really don't know how far the rabbit hole goes.  I'll leave it at that for now.   

     What got me riled up in observing the debate is how, not only did the arguers completely dehumanize the "illegal immigrants" and "illegal aliens", speaking of them as if they were insects or commodities that needed to be "controlled" (as if a legal/illegal status has anything to do with a person's humanity), but the arguers also engaged one another as if they themselves were merely the sum of a few ideas.

      A person is a person and not just an idea.  Your neighbor is flesh and blood human being, not just a pastiche of 1's and 0's encoded on a bitmapped screen.  We have been duped.  The mentality that deems an idea, a system, a government, a country, a religion more important than the living person standing in front of them, is the same mentality that sent millions to be slaughtered and cremated in charnel houses.        
   
       If I fail to recognize that the person behind the screen and stylish profile picture disagreeing with me is still a part of me, if I fail to realize that the young man sneaking across the border "illegally" to work towards a better life is also a part of me, then I have missed the point entirely.

       Enough divisions.  Enough ism and schism.  Enough separation.  No system is going to fix this.  So strap on your beards, boys.  It's time for the real fun to begin.   
    

What Are You Fighting Against?

System-a coordinated body of methods or a scheme or plan of procedure; organizational scheme; a system of government.  (Dictionary.com)


War-active hostility or contention; conflict; contest: (Dictionary.com)


 
      I used to pride myself upon wanting to kick the system.  I was rebellious, zealous, passionate.  I still have notebooks full of the anti-establishment poetry and music I wrote back in those days.  Oh, how I believed I was fighting the good fight!  But...

     By having myself positioned against what I deemed, "a system of oppression" I became increasingly wracked with the fear of being victimized.  The more I felt I was victimized, the more I felt the need to fight, until eventually all I did was fight.  Everything turned into an argument.  Everywhere I turned I saw the long arm of oppression.  Since oppression was all that I saw, I felt oppressed.  Anyone who supported "the system" I scoffed at.  Though I wouldn't tell them to their face, I found myself superior.  I thought that I was on a higher plane because I "saw through the cracks." On one hand, I pitied those who mindlessly supported "the system."  On the other hand, I envied their alleged lack of knowledge, because everyone seemed much happier than I was.  

      I wrote editorials that got published in the local papers about the corruption I saw.  I stirred the pot to get responses.  When leisurely hanging out with friends, I would bait people into the conversations I wanted to have, then beat them over the head with my opinion, with what I thought was my enlightened mental state.  In my free time, I researched conspiracy theories to add fuel to the fire.  The rabbit hole just got deeper.  The more I learned, the more miserable I became.  

     Then I got knocked on my ass.

      The system I had fought so hard against in an invisible ideological war was now benefiting me.  It helped me find a job when I got laid off and we found out my wife was pregnant.  It helped get us medical care when we had none.  It covered the expenses for our daughter's 149 day stay in the NICU after she was born (a bill we would have spent the remainder of our lives paying off).  The turn of events was ironic to say the least.  But ultimately, it was humbling and lead me to a most important question of self-analysis:  What was I fighting against?  If I'm such a pro-peace, anti-war guy, how could I be against anything?  Isn't being against something the same spirit that allows war to operate in the first place?   

      It couldn't be all bad because this big, bad, evil, oppressive system had suddenly worked in our favor and covered things financially when we had no other means, which lead me to another question.  What would we have done if there was no system in place?

      A couple of days ago we got a notification from our insurance provider that a very important aspect of our daughter's care was denied.  Momentarily, I was infuriated.  Without going into too much detail, suffice it to say the particular care our daughter needs is essential to her growth and development.  She's six months old and can't eat by mouth.  She needs speech therapy to begin learning how to feed.  The "doctor" a hired gun by the insurance company said, no, it's unnecessary, as if it's perfectly normal for someone to eat through a feeding tube their entire life.  Do not worry, friends.  The thing will be resolved.  Like I said, at first, I was infuriated.  I wanted to find the doctor and beat him with a garden hose.

       Then I asked myself an important question.  Why was I really mad?

       It hit me almost immediately.  I was mad because they dehumanized my daughter.  I was mad because some man with a bunch of letters behind his name treated my daughter like a stack of papers, like she wasn't human at all.  Papers and dollar signs.  I was mad because he couldn't see the 149 days we spent holding on, and the surgeries, the terror, the what ifs, the 1000 worst-case-scenarios we heard, and the phrase, "well, hopefully, if she makes it" always getting thrown around.  It lifted in a second and I felt suddenly empathetic towards the doctor.  What a sad state of mind he must be in.  What a very difficult decision to make day in and day out.  I realized I did not envy him, nor would the health of my family be determined by his signature on a piece of paper.  What does his signature on a piece of paper mean anyway?      

      The weight being lifted, I was elated, for I saw a brilliant opportunity.  When you flow with life you cannot lose!  The thing will be resolved, one way or another.  My excitement stemmed from the realization that even if my daughter is denied, my wife and I have a brilliant opportunity to be empowered.  Ultimately, the doctor's denial is our empowerment.  We are in control.  We can appeal, change insurance, etc. etc.  

      Then I thought, what if there were no system supporting us in this?  Scary, right?  Stepping into these waters, there is further elation.  I thought about how much more attention we would have to pay to our daughter.  How much more time we would have to spend with her.  How many things we would have to learn and research to provide the proper care she needs to eat by mouth.  I thought about how beautiful and enriching it all would be even if it was a lot more work.  System or no system, it's all going to be ok.   

     The overarching revelation I've had over the last couple of days in going through this rekindled and reconnected me with my former self.  I read over some of the old poems and rants I had written.  I gave that hungry young man a hug, told him that he was brave and it was okay for him to rest.  Within a system (oppressive or not) there is always someway to benefit.  Without a system there is also benefit.  There is no need to fight when you know that you're going to be fine either way.

     All in all, we know our systems are corrupt.  We know people are being used, abused and taken advantage of.  We know that those sitting upon billions of dollars are doing it by riding the backs, sweat and labor of those who have less.  So what?  What are we going to do about it?  

     That young man, so afraid of being boxed-in and victimized by an oppressive system was angry because he saw a world where people were being dehumanized.  A world where people became dependent on systems which treated them like cogs in a wheel, numbers on a printout, simple parts of a plan or procedure.  But that young man, obstinately setting himself against "the system" missed the point. 

     Do we really need "the system"?

     What would it look like if every man loved his neighbor as himself?