Village

 I feel that the most important things are the things that empower people and help in the struggle to find a light in a dark world. That will be my main objective. Everyone that knows me or even reads me can see that I am a rebel. Everyone knows I have strong beliefs and opinions. Everyone knows that I abhor the status quo and detest conformity. And I hope everyone knows if I have a point I will back it up; if I am wrong, I relish the chance to learn from my error.

But now the time has come to practice what we preach. The time has come to rise above this insane media and corporate driven ideology that has permeated nearly every aspect of our existence. It has burrowed its way into our family, moral, and religious lives. Like a ravenous leech this detached media-fueled lifestyle has become not just the normal, but the ideal for most of humanity.

We are in a largely unacknowledged state of modern despair. Depression, suicide, and violent crimes are at epidemic levels. We have become a drug culture because people are hurting inside; they are lacking something that our culture of exclusivity and fiscal success has somehow driven into us like an iron nail. 

 We are a culture of “more is better.” This is another way of saying, “Only those with greed succeed.” Greed creates poverty; poverty creates misery, misery feeds crime, crime feeds greed, and on and on…. Greed drives men to sell women and girls. Greed drives corporate executives to steal jobs from working class people. Greed allows people in the medical/insurance fields to bankrupt families for the sake of their lives and health. Greed promotes civic leaders, sundry politicians, and banking institutions to be self-serving rather than servants of the people. As the value of money becomes larger in the heart of man, the value of humanity grows smaller.

We need to step up and forget our petty differences and collectively shed the skin of the one and embrace the idea of the village.

The greatest achievements cannot be measured in monetary gain, awards, or accolades; they are measured in the simple (and not so simple) acts of kindness, charity, and selflessness we commit.

I love the saying that pertains to all injustices, “I always wondered why somebody didn’t do something about that, then I realized I am somebody.”

You are somebody.

Somewhere I Have Never Traveled

You Were Created to Make a Difference

You were born to add value to this world.

You were created to make a difference.

Let us make a difference one person at a time. 

Donate. Contribute. Spread the Word.

If one person’s life is better as a result of one act of kindness, then you have succeeded. 

http://www.redthreadmovement.org/ 

http://www.compassion.com/ 

 http://www.worldvision.org/m/sponsor-a-child/?campaign=11935116 

https://secure.unicefusa.org/site/Donation2?df_id=10262&10262.donation=form1 

http://www.savethechildren.org 

http://catholiccharitiesusa.org/ 

http://www.ldsphilanthropies.org/humanitarian-services/ 

http://www.preventblindness.org/ 

The Uneducated Scholar II

http://uneducatedscholar.tumblr.com/

She Asked. He Said.

“What do you do?” she asked.

“Write,” he said.

“What makes a writer?” she asked.

“Obsession, Pain, Empathy, Blood,” he said.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“Fear, Love, Hate,” he said.

“Is it worth it?” she asked. 

“Yes. No.” He said.

“Is there anything that can stop you from writing?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“What?” she asked.

“Death,” he said.

Sylvia Plath Reads Lady Lazarus

 

Poesis est mortuus.

Poetry is dead.

 Its death is the result of a plethora of factors that began early in the twentieth century. However, the final nail was driven in the past decade. Poetry’s death throes have been heard, the hole has been dug, and the coffin not-so gently dropped in the grave. The main culprits in this vocabulumicide are multimedia, the Internet, and a detestable “fast-food” mentality.

 Our homes sound like 1980’s video game arcades, websites are flashing temples of capitalism, our blogs are cutesy scrapbooks, and our minds want the next thing before the previous thing has even registered.

 No matter; it is a natural process. Soon will come the death of the printed page, art on canvas, and entertainment that enlightens the mind.

Poetry was created for a people who valued the written word and were willing to think deeply rather than superficially.

Oh well, all things die.

Alea iacta est.