Anti-social Media
We live our lives in public now It is different than before When we’d smile at an unexpected guest Come knocking at our door Our lives have become a tabloid piece Twitter, tweet and post your soul, an issue of Inquisitor With that burning spotlight pressing down We now fear that surprise visitor We post our private lives Snap, it is a trap Text me to sex me We’ve stopped talking, reduced to stalking No romance No time to dance We post our lives for useless fame What a steep price it took Nothing will ever be the same The like, the gram, the waste of facebook.
Tired of Outrage & Sick to Death of Fear
Is anyone else tired of outrage and sick to death of fear? I know I am. But we do live in a very unsettling time, don’t we? This time on earth is a time of great transition, where governments are crumbling, air is dirty, politics are dirty, and our minds have become so dirty. This is not an accident, but the unfolding of a very sinister and very well-thought out design. The bought-and-paid-for mainstream media continues its campaign to bang the drums of fear. Fear the muslims; fear the terrorists; fear the gays. Democrats should fear Trump; but republicans, you should fear Hillary. All of us should fear going out in the streets at night. Black folks should fear cops; cops must fear the public; and well, hey, us…the public, we are suppose to fear just about everything. Then, when we get sick to death of fear it begins to give way to the next logical step in our species emotional undoing…outrage. Do you think that every broadcast network has the same ten basic stories and pieces of information by accident? This earth is gigantic and America is gigantic, beyond what we can even wrap our minds around gigantic; and yet country wide we have almost all networks and all news outlets reporting the same basic fear-laced stories. That’s not news, those are called talking points. And they have been carefully arranged and designed to make you afraid, and then outraged. And we have fallen for it hook, line and sinker. I’m so tired of people being outraged by everything—or anything. It may seem reasonable in some cases, like when people are getting shot in our streets or decimated in foreign lands or whenever Trump opens his fat mouth. And it may seem totally irrational in other cases, like when the delivery guy forgets your side of garlic toast or someone interrupts you in a casual conversation. But in either case outrage is counter productive. The consciousness that devastates our planet, wages war, picks on the weak, bullies the different, and lies to the willing, is the same one that becomes fearful and outraged at all of those things. The world doesn’t need us being afraid and outraged anymore. There is a season for all things, but the season for impotent anger and debilitating fear has passed. It’s time to turn turn turn the page. Humanity has no more use for our outrage and fear. Outrage is just borne out of our pity mixed with helplessness; so we rage and flail, and determine in our minds that by making some rant on social media we did our part to get the word out and spread our view point. But we didn’t, and we haven’t. And that’s okay. Because honestly, the last thing the world needs is more of us outraged and attached to our view points. All we’ve done when we announce our fear or outrage on our various social networks, or incessantly to our friends, is spread it around, and add to it. It’s time for us, for humanity to get a hold of ourselves. Not the government, not some other group or some other ethnicity…but you, and me. Don’t use this moment to get outraged and say “yeah, so and so needs to get a hold of themselves, Brian is right.” No, that misses the whole point. Ghandi said to be the change you want to see in the world, so I’m saying I need to get a hold of myself. And if that resonates, perhaps you do too. Albert Einstein once said you cannot solve a problem from the same consciousness that created it. You must solve it with the opposite consciousness. In the face of mass shootings and global catastrophes humanity is better served by our compassion. When a mass shooting occurs or Trump opens his mouth, or a nuclear power plant springs a leak, instead of getting outraged, fill up with love. Make that choice in that moment. Your outrage and fear are only the result of a practiced pattern of behavior anyway. So try something else and keep practicing at it. Take a breath, feel the blessings that are still around you, and then use your power to be that blessing to your fellow humans in need. If you dare, well up with compassion even for the shooter, even for Trump himself, even for the idiot who caused the power plant to leak. This is something you don’t hear every day, because screw him, he killed innocent people; or he’s racist; or he should have been more careful. Well yeah, that’s all true; but compassion counts the most when someone has done something horrible that we don’t understand, it is strongest when we don’t want to give it. I can’t think of any form of consciousness or action more opposite than that. I know, that sounds easier said than done. It is. I’m not saying it’s easy to have compassion. I’m saying it’s easy to get outraged. Let’s try a little harder and do something a little differently. Our fellow humans needs us to be smart about this. When it gets difficult, have compassion on yourself, and remember it would be easy to get outraged and get over it. But get vulnerable and go through it instead. We are in this thing together, creating a civilized society, whether we like it or not. So if you practice love today then you’ve changed the world already.
Inner Voices
Nobody noticed when my identity got lost After all it’s not their problem, for they don’t bear the cost Plus if you look over you’ll see me sitting in that chair But if you look a little closer you’ll see I’m not even there I chased the dreams of others and chased a penny for myself Carried out my marching orders like a good and proper elf I should have noticed sooner; I wish I’d spoken up but all these should’s and wishes will never fill my cup I clear away the pebbles and unearth my buried center My destiny is calling out “let all ye who hear me enter” When I begin to honor my deepest passions will I find a deeper joy of being, leaving suffering behind? If I risk it all, on this hail mary of a dream Oh Universe can you guarantee me that I won’t lose my steam Can you reassure me that I’m going to be just fine Be honest, because I’ll know if you’re just feeding me a line Quietly I listen for some kind of mystical reply something unmistakeable on which I can rely but there are no guarantees in life, just moments and choices Those who find their happiness heed their inner voices
The War of Art
I want my art to be inspiring So I sit frozen, yet perspiring There is a pressure to express to burst, to splash, to dance in paint an urge, a burning I suppress so the urge is growing ever faint I want my art to be transcendent But I freeze alone, and codependent There is an ember searing hot cracking, burning, catching fire that never dies beneath the rot of all the dreams I’ve let expire I want my art to be an upward force And a bunch of fame and money, of course My soul is alight with a bright white heat But the mental dragon turns it all to steam So I binge-watch crap and over eat And pinch myself for my silly dream I want my art to be expression But I find myself stuck in depression I have to stop this round and round So I force myself to sit and write The flood gates open and I start to drown But I can learn to swim, I’ll be alright. A creative force bursts through my fingers At last, now here’s hoping this surge lingers Making art is like controlling fire It burns, it’s smoky, with it’s own mind If you’re lucky to live, you’ll never retire From this calling you’ve been assigned
LGBTQuit It
I am not defined by the color of my skin I am not defined by the job I perform So no single letter could ever do the job Of bringing my sexuality into form I’m am bigger than who I like to fuck I am a lion, roaring with pride I’m burning for dick, I like to suck it This is a fact I will no longer hide But don’t try to box me with one single letter I am not the sum of some bull shit acronym I am atoms and love and I’ll do you one better I like other men, and boy do I like ‘em slim.
Budget
I crunch the numbers, I add them up But will the sum of them fill my cup? I cut down here, I roll it back shaving and saving, clickety clack go the calculator keys, as I add and subtract But I need magic, not math, that’s the tragic fact. I do my best through thick and thin But the IRS seems to always win It’s scary, trying to make this budget Sometimes I just want to say ‘oh fudge it’
Airplane & Simple
I can write a dirty limerick I can write a little rhyme My Fly-fi isn’t working So this is how I’ll pass the time. I’m flying through the sky In a giant metal tube Longing for my landing So I can hit a big fat doob Finally feeling grounded After soaring through the air I’ll be sleeping off this jet-lag So only wake me if you dare
How “The News” Became Bad News and Now It’s Just Old News
We as a species have been infatuated with ‘the news’ since ancient times. Once upon a time referred to as tidings, often simply called gossip, and in the last hundred years or so referred to as ‘current events’, the news has always really just been short-hand for ‘the newest stuff’; and across the globe humanity just can’t seem to get enough. The word ‘news’ has been part of our collective vernacular for millennia but only in the last 50 years or so has it become so ubiquitous, and so deeply perverted as to have the power to hijack the direction of a culture or shape the beliefs of entire populations. Simply the plural form of the word ‘new’, this deeply-engrained but basically glorified slang word has had perhaps the single largest impact on our culture, of anything, ever. News flash: only five giant corporations control approximately 90% of the media the world sees; among them are Disney, Viacom and Time Warner. This fact alone should shatter the illusion that our news is reliable, unbiased and for our own good. This undisputed, and of course under-reported media monopoly reveals an obvious and sinister design to promote disinformation while the bankers and the corporations and whoever it is at the top of the top plunder the earth. Yet still, because our current information system is a subtle yet nefarious form of mind control, most fail to notice that the very source we go to for reliable information is the one brainwashing us the most. The news has further impacted the globe because it has become a normalized, and centralized form of nationally, and in some cases internationally, endorsed gossip. When a student whispers to another about the hideous outfit a fellow classmate wore to school we all know it is gossip, because it is plain to see. But when a talking head in a suit on TV, with the weight of a media outlet behind them talks about the hideous outfit worn by the latest set of legs on the red carpet we call it ‘celebrity news’. The bare fact that it is gossip is obscured, but only slightly. But it is a slippery slope. When a respected and credentialed 60 Minutes anchor talks about his or her opinion on the thought process or agenda of a presidential candidate it is still just gossip, dressed in prestige and hiding behind a college degree. We’ve been taught to think of the news as an impartial set of facts, presented to a devout public by an educated and impartial set of reporters—a free press, as we are taught in elementary school. But if you look closely you’ll see the news programs actually spend the majority of their broadcast minutes presenting opinions, and an agenda, not actual facts or practical information. The question nobody seems to be asking is “who’s agenda is it?” Another consequence of our current information paradigm, primarily based around either the nightly news or social media is that another new artificial binary has been created to divide us, blind us, and control us. Whether you personally believe this has occurred by accident or by design is irrelevant, the fact remains that our current information system is bought and paid for, leaving actual and accurate information still very hard to find. Depending on what kind of news you watch or read and how you stay informed will determine your cultural status in today’s polarized climate. If you watch so-called reliable news outlets like CNN you get to wear a certain cultural status badge and can then glare at others asking “well how do you expect to stay informed then?” Or if you’re one of the sheep in the other herd, you’d be watching FOX, but the sentiment remains the same: I educate myself by watching news, so if you don’t do this you are uneducated. The binary goes even further and divides us even more with the rise of social media. While these new connective networks like LinkedIn, Twitter and others are filled with bogus hoaxes and fake news stories they are also a massive equalizing tool, allowing anyone to become a publisher; thus widening the field of public debate and the spread of innovative thought. This new tool that can help to connect, inspire and awaken a brainwashed public is a threat to the Big Five and to our status quo. So another stigma has been created: If you get your news from Social Media and the Internet you’re an idiot. While that might be true if all you do is watch talking cat videos, or never look outside of your Facebook Newsfeed, it’s certainly not true in the case of the pipeline controversy at Standing Rock, a watershed event in American current events, and yet one over which there is a total mainstream media blackout. You can pretty much only find out anything at all about the pipe line controversy and many other phenomena such as solar roofing innovations and medical marijuana breakthroughs on social media. The mainstream media has been paid to keep their trap shut. News is called such because it was about reporting on the newest stuff. Instead of always saying ‘have you seen the newest stuff?’ we just shortened it to “have you seen the news?” Humanity is ultimately a lazy species so this makes sense. However the news does not even do a remotely decent job of giving us an accurate cross section of all the newest stuff. Science, technology, philanthropy, love, all excluded from the mainstream media vernacular. So I’m not calling it by that name anymore. It’s not “the news”, it’s “the bads.” The new credo seems to be only to inform us of awful and terrible things. Some are new, but all are bad. So I don’t watch it. An unbalanced intake will cause an unbalanced mind. I’m not uninformed because I don’t watch the news; I’m simply less brainwashed. You can find 100 new things a day and never dwell on or make
Night Time v. Play Time: The Real War for Freedom
There is a war being waged every day. A war for peace and for autonomy. This violent and sometimes messy struggle pervades our society; nobody is safe, especially women and children. If you think you’ve remained unscathed then you are not a parent, and you must have blocked the terrors of childhood from your mind. Because you don’t remember your own struggle for autonomy and freedom from your parents and your crib; or how your ancestors all fought this fight before you. As a newly minted Uncle who’s been babysitting lately, let me tell you, the toddler war against nap time and nighttime is no joke. In one corner – Parents, struggling for a living room filled with peace. In the other corner – Toddlers, standing up against the oppressive tyranny of rules, schedules, and above all, silence. This reporter has seen first hand how the violence and tear-shed can change the course of an entire afternoon. A peaceful session of painting can turn into a splotchy mess, as walls and faces are covered blood red. My niece Charlie, turning three this week, calls me “Uncle Pizza,” which I love. Sometimes she calls me simply “Unkies” to rhyme with junkies, which I love even more. Last night she was scared after bedtime because a fire truck came roaring down the street and roused her from a sleep she had just barely entered. So naturally she started screaming her head off. Her mom, my sister Cheryl went in to soothe her and took her down on the couch to read some more books while she calmed down. It worked. She went back to her crib, Cheryl sang their customary million songs to her and things were looking good. Her eyes even closed. As Cheryl was leaving the room Hurricane Charlie picked right back up, still gripped with fear, and began howling even louder than before. She asked for Daddy, for books, for a sip of milk. Anything she could think of to get the hell up out of that crib. But Cheryl refused and told Charlie to go to sleep. You see, Charlie has this habit, even at only three years old, or crying wolf. The fire truck scared her, that was legit. Cheryl did what any good mom would do. She picked her up, spent time with her, read to her, and comforted her. But when Charlie started whooping it up again claiming she was still scared, it was hard to believe. She is an expert at avoiding night-night, like a smooth talking master thief, she is a word-smith already well-versed in the art of getting-her-way. So Cheryl left the room, closed the door, and thought “she’ll just have to cry it out.” Two minutes of bloody murderous screams filled the air. Two minutes became six minutes. Mom and Dad were a mess now, raw nerves and pure conflict. Do we get her? Is she really scared or just trying to pull another one of her toddler fast ones that she’s gotten so good at? Honestly, even I wasn’t sure. My sister, unable to take the piercing shrieks was about to relent and let Charlie sit on the couch with us. It was almost 10pm. That’s when I stepped in. The battle-weary parents weren’t thinking clearly. We can’t give in to her, we just can’t. If I was as tired as they were after three years in the toddler trenches I’d have wanted to waive the white pillowcase too, and let the little one stay up late. I told my sister that if she didn’t mind I’d go in and try to calm her down until she falls asleep. Without hesitation I had her approval. It turns out it doesn’t take any arm twisting at all to get a tired, nerve-frayed mother to agree to let you approach her screaming child late at night; none whatsoever. With her nod of agreement, I approached the war zone. I entered Charlie’s room. The battle was raging. Her screams were louder than mortar shells and seemed like, if left unchecked they could do just as much damage. She was standing in her crib, gripping the railing. When she spotted me, she did something I didn’t even think was possible. She got louder. She reached her hands out to me to pick her up. I knew I wouldn’t be doing that so each hand was a knife stabbing my heart. I wanted to help her calm down, and if possible learn to calm herself. And with any luck at all she’d fall back asleep. So I steeled myself against her pleas for rescue and sat on the floor just outside the crib. “Hi, Charlie, hi. Can you calm down for me?” “I want mommy, I want mommy,” her cheeks were wet and her voice loud and quivering. I was ready to give in right there, but I summoned the strength to proceed. “I know you do, but Mommy and Daddy are downstairs right now. I just came in to sit with you until you fall asleep because I know you’re scared.” “I want mommy, I want mommy.” I wanted to die, I was such an asshole. Who doesn’t let a screaming kid have their mom. But that wasn’t the solution. I got this, I told myself. “I’m sorry honey, but it’s past your bedtime and Mommy and Daddy are going to stay downstairs, but I’m going to sit with you until you calm down okay.” Mommy and Daddy already had a very long day, they both work more than full time. Besides, my reputation as an Uncle was on the line now! “I want daddy,” she sobbed “I’m sorry, no honey.” “I want my books.” “No, it’s past your bedtime, now sit down okay.” By some miracle she sat down. “I want sip of milk.” Bingo! The one stroke of genius I had. I brought her
Our Responsibility
I’ve stolen money and I’ve given my money away I’m not a hoodlum and I’m not Robin Hood You know it’s funny how black and white make grey What’s wrong or right? Or fair; or bad; or good? I’ve been jealous and I’ve been the one betrayed I’m not a monster, nor am I a victim slain I’ve been zealous my mistakes have been displayed but without forgiveness, all messes leave a stain. I’ve been beaten up and I’ve thrown a sucker punch I’m not a bully and I’m not a punching bag But I keep my chin up because I have hope, it’s just a hunch love is winning; and this is coming from a fag. Nobody’s flawless Though we all think our shit don’t stink We don’t need saviors, we need to find our common ground Becoming lawless Will lead us quickly to the brink shake more hands, break less bones, a new way must be found. The president isn’t yearning to save us from ourselves Either one is a paid-off talking head Self-reliance is worth learning Don’t be sheep, or little elves Work together and know your neighbor, because Washington is dead. The system’s broken It can fix nothing, just as it was designed Take back your power, and talk more with each other A vote is just a token compared to the power of your mind Let’s solve one problem, and then let’s solve another.
