Tag Archives: relationships

To Henry and Lindsay

It is a measure of a life that the world changes for the better. It is the ultimate measure, because we all  are contributors to that better world. That brings a certain responsibility; A very certain one. By that standard, what have each of us contributed to a world better than the one we arrived to find? There is your question. There is the summation we all must make before God, before eternity, and within our own hearts.

Like each of us, my summation to that eternity is ever-changing. I struggle within my own heart, and struggle deeply. But I understand the storms in my heart do indeed resonate in the world, just as love resonates and resonates strongest of all. And so when defining what it is I want in the world most often I reply justice, knowing full well that there is no justice in the world without love.

Last night, in a warm and peaceful ceremony at the Starved Rock lodge Ana and I joined to celebrate the marriage of two dear friends, Henry and Lindsay. surrounded by the autumn woods painted among the deep canyons of the park, carved by the ages and the mighty Illinois River  adjacent. An autumn wind  raged outside the tall windows of the lodge, pushing showers of golden and umber leaves against the windows,  symbolic of our own lives pushed and pulled by the winds of the world.

It begs that we all must rely on one another, and that among the winds of the world we are small in the aggregate, but large among one another. We are large among one another because the world is so much bigger and formidable. We are large when we define ourselves by love, when we connect to one another through that power. We are large when we seek justice in the world, the proper justice only love can bring.

There is justice in the world. It comes, but it does not come by itself. Like a fine dish, or a good wine or a providing garden, it must be coaxed and nurtured and cared for. It must be defended to realize that fuller and better potential. It must improve what was there before: a lifeless patch of ground,  a bushel of grapes or un-realized spices. At times it must be fought for, by standing firm against the forces eschewing love and justice.

Henry and Lindsay were married with a simple few words and a symbolic kiss. But there is a history in that kiss, far beyond the two of them, one that speaks to that better world, and for those precious moments in that softly lit lodge, among their family and friends, I was moved to have been a part of it.

Staging a Novel: Vision versus Art

I am better than two thirds through a working draft of The Last Man, with a goal to stage it within the next year. It is interesting re-envisioning something like a novel for theater. There  are the mechanical aspects for one. The novel takes place in my head, moving among expansive and detailed scenes and vistas. In the novel there are shocking battles among the sewers of   futuristic city, chases along city avenues, the great rubbish archives, the Arctic seascoast with the massive city skyline, the Dante-esque breadth and madness of the Reclamation center, the final battle there, and the open sea. It is easy to fling readers through those other worlds,  but the  stage is far more intimate. It draws far greater barriers limiting those huge and complex vistas, focusing the story upon the characters and dialogue.

The novel describes a world in which a single corporation controls the planet with an iron fist, rummaging in each “associates” thoughts as a means of ultimate control: SENTINEL SPIES, SECTION-21 PUNISHES, THE CORPORATION DECIDES. Production is the imperative. Those who do not or cannot produce any more are “reclaimed” from society. Race, religion and individuality have been eliminated, as relics of a so-called chaotic and unproductive past. In this constructed illusion of racial homogeneity, a black child is born. Studied by the corporation as a means of future prevention, the child, now a man, is put on trial.

The main character in the book is a man. As I began the script, I was still intending a man in the part. Then something truly revolutionary occurred. Last Christmas I wrote and produced my first play “Occupy My Heart: A revolutionary Christmas  Carol,” with  an amazing cast and a hot-shot your director. The play received national media attention and saw standing room only audiences for its limited run.  All of the cast from that play went on with their own projects. One of then,  a stunning and gifted African American actress named Donier Tyler, was giving a performance back in March that showed this amazing depth of power. Watching her that night, I had a revelation.  

By then the novel had just been released. As I was watching Donier, I was suddenly struck that The Last Man, not only could, but should be a Black woman! as the subtext of the novel is to assail systems of power and oppression, casting a black woman, a strong black woman in the role seemed the ultimate realization of the story. Last night, rehearsing a scene that Donier and I will perform at an Art show on April 28 here in Chicago Donier found her Black woman’s voice for the piece, bringing a stunning dimension to the work.

What I discovered was that we all live deep within assumptions and paradigms. We understand other perspectives and experiences from the bottom of those assumptions and paradigms. Throughout, from the novel to the stage, the work was intended to escape the assumptions and paradigm of growing up as a white male in the society. It continues to be an exploration and a catharsis about the limits of my own experience.

The story is changing and evolving in ways I could hardly have imagined. What emerges I think is the space between creator and audience, and how what we create remains only ours until we realease it to the world. From that moment, it ceases to be ours. It becomes community. It becomes a negotiation between our assumptions and paradigm with and against those of others, hich may well be the real power of art.

The Twenty Year Siege-Part 2

Eleven thousand five hundred forty-one red chairs. There were eleven thousand chairs arranged from curb to curb down Titova Boulevard in central Sarajevo. I enjoy theater and could have swelled at such a display if not for the terrible symbolism behind the display. Eleven thousand red chairs to memorialize the eleven thousand Sarajevans killed during the war. I still recall those days, the morning after a battle or following an attack. The siege hit civilians the hardest. And for the cynics-and there are scores- even among those fighting from the beleaguered trenches around and within the city, most were civilians pressed into a desperate 31/2 year fight to protect their families, save the city and maintain what feeble supply opportunities could be found to sustain the slowly strangling city of 300,000.

Ana. My Ana, was a child of 15 when the war began, still struggling with her own identity in the best of times. Fifteen. An age filled with the naive but eager assertions of emerging adulthood, but imbued and tethered deeply to the innocence, curiosity and vulnerability of childhood. And so she was thrown into the ultimate construction of human cynicism and cruelty, emerging in the incongruous and unsatisfying strangeness of adulthood and something called”the end of the war.”

I won’t call it peace. Peace is a fraud. It is not the end of war, because wars do not end, except for fools and politicians. war only changes character. The dead are still dead. The scarred and still forever scarred. Only the character of war changes, receding as embers to a half buried fire to smolder in the hearts whom it has affected or ruined. 

She cried all day Friday, lamenting and commiserating with friends and family back in Bosnia or scattered by the aftermath of war around the planet to strange and foreign cultures.  There was rage and sorrow, but mostly the injustice of what had been stolen from them. These modern accoutrements of Skype and Facebook make it more immediate for those commiserations and lamentations, but are only bandages to unalterably wounded souls. Ana’s friend Alma in Sarajevo summed it up succinctly, “I feel as if the devil was sitting on my shoulders all day.”

When I climbed aboard that Lufthansa 747 back in 1993, the siege was already better than a year old. I still did not know “my” Ana yet. Nor would I for another year.  I did at least realize that I was temporarily departing a home in Chicago for a war, and that if I made it home from the war I at least had a home and friends, a job and a culture to return to. war, that war, its true implications on personal levels was still very much an abstract, just as it was for all those watching 30 second sound bites and out-of-context reports on the nightly news.

I would never face the rationalization of choosing a new homeland because mine had been destroyed. On holidays, such as this one I would never longingly recall family holidays and reunions that will never occur again, because of those lost or refugeed across the planet. I would never search soulfully for purpose or justice or rationale to the fate that robbed me of my innocence, my dreams or my right to a life unaffected by what amounted to a meaningless tantrum over real estate that swept into cycles of vengeance and ultimately left much of that land unusable for centuries for millions of landmines.

The sun was setting as my plane lifted off from O’Hare that September evening back in 1993. The  future was unknown to me, but I was charting, at least in part my own fate-arrogance in the face of what was happening all across Bosnia. I understood that well enough, but would soon come to find that fate is hardly our own. As I gazed  at the photograph of those 10,000 red chairs in Sarajevo Friday, knowing the faces and names of a good many of those whom each empty chair recalled, that realization became all too apparent.

Naked on a highway in Dalmatia

Hardly more than twenty-four hours earlier I was slogging up a foggy Bosnian mountainside, escaping the war-ravaged Sarajevo valley under sporadic sniper fire. Forced to leave my new wife behind, I made it later the next morning to the besieged town on Mostar, and finally, by mid afternoon to Croatia’s Dalmatian coast.  As night fell, I drifted into an exhausted sleep for the 13 hour bus ride to Zagreb, a full five hours longer since Croatian Army checkpoints and Serb held lands encroached and threatened the two lane highway.

The inky curtains of night, scented with drizzling rain brought a chill through the crowded old Yugoslav Centrotrans bus. I managed a small pocket of warmth beneath my jacket by curling tightly on the worn green vinyl bus seat. i looked up briefly as the bus pulled off the road into the jaundiced light of a road side restaurant. I’d recalled the place from a previous trip. It was an oasis of sorts, miles from the nearest town. I tucked my head under the jacket and went back to sleep.

A short time later I awoke. The bus was nearly empty. A few souls dozed in their seats. Most had gone in for a drink or a meal. Under that jacket, and better than two days since washing, I had even begun to offend myself. I decided a little cleansing was in order.

Leaving my jacket and the rest of my things on the seat, I grabbed my toothbrush, a clean pair of socks and climbed down from the bus, struggling to find my legs at first. I stretched with a yawn and looked back along that dark two-lane highway. To one side lay the Serb-held hills, to the other the sea.

Inside the sounds of diners and the glare of lights were almost assaulting. I paused, looked over to the bus driver, still working on a tiny cup of Turkish coffee, and nodded. In the tiny restroom I grabbed a hand full of towels and stripped to the waist. The cold splash of water fought against the lingering sleep in my body, the tooth-brush and fresh socks brought me a bit closer to humanity. 

 There were  a hand full of Croatian Kuna in my pocket, enough to buy a soda. Stepping out into the diningroom I paused, the realization that the place was suddenly empty not quite taking hold for the moment. Through the plate glass window, just pulling back out onto the highway was the bus!

Swearing loudly, I was off in an instant, bursting through the door, vaulting a short wall and sprinting across the gravel lot after the bus. I yelled, and yelled again, charging into the road, but to no avail. I watched, still running, socks and toothbrush in hand, as the bus went over the hill and disappeared into the black Croatian night.

I kept running, waving my arms. What else could i do? My passport, journals from the war, marriage documents that would get my new wife to America and the one credit card I possessed were on that bus bound for Zagreb. Never in my life, not in the war or anywhere else did I feel so naked and helpless as I did at that instant on that dark deserted road.

A horn blared from behind as a semi-truck swerved around me before it too was swallowed by the night. I kept running, now thinking it was time to head back to the restaurant and call some authority, but as I reached the crest of the hill I was amazed to find the truck driver had somehow signaled the bus. They sat beside the road a little better than a half mile ahead. Shouting at the top of my lungs, I covered the distance in record time, embracing the truck driver and getting a round of applause from all those aboard the bus. 

I collapsed into my seat, pouring sweat, heart pounding madly, more from the thought of what might have happened that night. After a time I started to laugh, and soon couldn’t stop laughing, drawing some odd looks from other passengers. I don’t recall that I stopped laughing that night, only that I awoke the next morning as the bus pulled into Zagreb. Never had that city looked so good.

Santorum, the Corporate fool: On Condoms and control

The message is the massage, right? As we are channelled and steered towards two ultimate candidates and the illusion of picking a president, the question becomes, who is messaging and who is massaging. Who is getting messaged and massaged is already quite apparent. The American public is the ultimate target, of course, but the purpose is hardly to come to some national catharsis, some ultimate human truth on social, economic and political issues which will ultimately carry us towards a better more human and equitable society. The purpose is about control. It is about driving market populations into extremes that blinds them from who is actually driving the message and massaging the public.

Santorum is just the willing fool. He is the zealot who allows the highest banker to fund his extremism. And the evidence is clear on this, given that Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney would clearly be the most blatant corporatists in the Whitehouse. Theirs is a naked and unabashed policy of protecting and defending the current typhoon of obscenely high corporate profits. Since the media operates their marketing wing, it should be a logical leap that

But religion is a bully, at least when it gets political. Every religion has that tendency. Every religion has its extremist side, which under the best circumstances is usually tempered and kept in check by the vast majority of people populating that religion. But always that extremism threatens, biding its time, awaiting the opportunity to assert their own ego centric world view, sometimes in the most belligerent and violent ways.

That would seem to be wholly at odds with corporatism, but in fact, with a blindly ambitious zealot such as Santorum, their interests coincide as eloquently as a pair of ballet dancers. Corporatism is about control. Again, if there is a need to control a message, to spin it or render it in the most favorable light, what isn’t being rendered, or what is being hidden. So corporations desire control, which is not altogether bad. We all seek to control how the world views us, and to show ourselves in the best possible light. We all have things we do not wish the world to know about us.

But what happens when a corporation is out of control? What happens when the combined, interlocking powers and resources of corporations exceeds the power of government to maintain them as tools for human beings, not organisms unto themselves? Out of control, unrelenting in their own egos and unsatisfied by any amount of wealth, they seek control. They seek to extinguish debate, rewrite laws and crush dissent, and what better vehicle for that than a religious zealot.

But not just any zealot. To be sure there are pious men whose extreme views cannot be bought. But there are men whose ambition and hubris, whose belief is that they fundamentally not only hold the key to human governance, but that they will compromise in the shadows that which they preach from the pulpit to achieve those aims. Hence the expression, you have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet. Those power-hungry and greedy corporations-not all corporations-would find no better ally than Santorum.

So why the current debate between Romney and Santorum? It would seem then that Santorum would be the final choice. Truth is, the debate is one of a naked corporatist, but one who will find extreme opposition in that nakedness, and zealot who is willing to sell his soul by tricking the American population that this election is about condoms, immigration and abortion. They are only the candy coating for a very bitter pill to follow.  The key is to hear through the message and not get massaged.

A LIBERAL CALLS OUT MSNBC: Moving the ball forward for the Right on election campaign reform

Generally, I enjoy Chris Hayes weekends on MSNBC, but I constantly must remind myself that Mr. Hayes, Ed Schultz, Rachel Maddow and the rest of their line-up are still part of the problem of corporate and power-elite-status-quo control of the discourse and messaging of critical national issues. While MSNBC is routinely “demonized” by FOX and pundits on the Right as far Left wing, it is not-by a long shot.

To support that, I point to the “buy American” push, particularly by Ed Schultz. Recall, this was a rightwing and nationalist mantra following NAFTA. Just as they did in the lead up to Iraq, MSNBC, for all their Liberal bent has missed the real solution to jobs in America and the necessary equitible trade worldwide, and that is not some pseudo-Ron Paul-esque economic isolationism, but forcing international corporations to adhere to wage and safety and pollution reforms regardless of where they are. If GE-owned MSNBC was truly as Liberal as the Right asserts, they would recognize first that mankind is global, and globalization was the direction of the species from those first steps from an African Valley 2 million years ago.

What prompted this article was a roundtable discussion on Chris Hayes’ Sunday morning show about the 2009 Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission ruling that allows Corporations, and Unions, to spend unlimited amounts of money to promote candidates and policy, effectively erasing the one man one vote cornerstone of our democracy by overwhelming free discourse through propaganda and false messaging.http://www.law.cornell.edu/supct/html/08-205.ZS.html
With a decptively benign name like Citizens United, the group is in fact a filthy little cabal of Republican hacks in the vein of Andrew Breitbart, with a bias towards editing for innuendo over fact and truth. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Citizens_United_(organization)

That’s the background, but on this morning’s show Mr. Hayes had Jack Abramoff, the convicted lobbyist who was unequivical in saying that overturning Citizens United would never happen, because it is fundamental to Conservatives in this country. The statement went virtually unchallenged. Aside the traitorous acts committed by Mr. Abramoff, which did immeasurable damage to this democracy, why would MSNBC legitimize such a character? Because, at the heart of MSNBC is a large mult-national corporation, with significant interests in issues ner and dear to the true powers in this nation (Hint: It isn’t Right, Left, Libertarian or even American).

The Corporate media is overt and subversive alike in its crafting and molding of cultures and nations. It does so to create markets as to define and secure them.

Advertising creates ideals, standards and affirms stereotypes on one hand, while the media carries and promotes those messages. The recent purchase of The Weather Channel by NBC Universal, Bain Capital and The Blackstone Group highlights the effort of Multi-national Corporations and firms to devour media outlets and control what Americans sees, hears, discusses and votes upon. Blackstone bought Neilsen-the rating people in 2006 along with other partners like the Carlyle Group. Bain, by the way is owned by Mitt Romney, and owns Clear Channel, the largest owner of radio stations in the country. Its “news” talk format is 90% rightwing, with Beck, Savage, Limbaugh and Hannity leading that charge, despite that 90% of the country does not vote Republican. Bain also owns or invests in AMC Entertainment and Warner Music group.

So there is real pressure, and undeniable evidence that Liberal MSNBC is hardly a Liberal thinktank, but instead has slipped into a market not served blatantly by FOX as a means, not to promote Progressive ideals, but as a means, as prescribed by their corporate owners, to nudge the message forward far more subtley that FOX can do. But the effort is the same, and in the end it comes down to control-not politics.

The strategy is to create paradigms not cultures, as paradigms become absolute realities that are much harder to find alternatives to or see beyond. Imagine what it would be to breath fire, or breathe watter as a means of survival, and that air and wind could be as deadly as we find those others. Those are other paradigms. That is what corporations are evolving to in a greater and greater consolidation of power and influence. Think back over the last 50 or 100 years about where corporations were and where they are today, with interlocking partnerships and boards, and their ascent to controlling almost fully govenments worldwide.

Now imagine this paradigm. With all that power to control the message and assert culture, a group of people have challenged that by Occupy parks have the power elite absolutely terrified. Now that is a message!

Video of Marines Urinating on Taliban Dead…and here is why it is wrong.

I have a history with this, having witnessed the Mock execution of a Serbian POW in the mountains above Sarajevo in October 1994. The incident is detailed in my book, Everything for Love. I am certain the young man from the neighboring town of Trnovo was spared because of my presence. I also have no doubt he was taken elsewhere and executed. Without doubt the would-be executioner, an average sort in his mid to late thirties could recite chapter and verse about Serbian atrocities, and likely had one or more family, friends or neighbors killed, wounded or otherwise terrible affected at the hand of Serbs, whether intentionally and cruelly or as a consequence of the war. I could recite those acts as well, and had personally witnessed enough to justify reprisals against those “inhuman” Serbs.

Those would be judgements of the human heart, however, a tinderbox fully at the mercy of vengeance and our selfish soul. It is our intellect and reason, and a moral standard that upholds human dignity, selfless mercy and the standards of human rights-one that is bolstered by laws and ideals that sanction those who violate those laws and ideals.

It has been a point of study into the psychology of war atrocities. Organizing relief, I was fascinated by the utter inhumanity that Hutu neighbors, friends and even family turned on their Tutsi kin in Rwanda. I had looked into the eyes of an elderly man who was so friendly and hospitable to me and others, only to smile gleefully and draw a finger across his throat at the blindfolded young Serb. Study the faces of men and women captured on film at executions and other atrocious acts, and you will find mostly complacent stoicism, but enjoyment and satisfaction in others. Other times there is a tribal, animal sort of orgiastic frenzy akin to videos of great apes and chimpanzees brutalizing others of their species.

The filming and ritual of degrading enemy dead-civilian and soldier alike- is hardly new. There seems to be an impetus to document such deeds, like posing with an animal after a hunt. It is tribal and perverse, apart from the illegalities. Worse it is shameful and wrong for some very fundamental reasons.

Preeminent among those reasons is the very assertion of many in this nation that America is the greatest nation on the earth, the “shining city on the hill,” and “the last best hope for mankind.” How does an act such as this further than notion, or convince our enemies otherwise? And if we discount enemies and other nations, how does this act strengthen those notions for ourselves?

If we truly believe we are the righteous in this conflict, is this how the righteous act? Where does is say in the Bible that in war it is alright to desecrate the enemy’s dead? It is an immoral statement to justify such acts by pointing to the enemy, if not for the reason above, then on the premise that it lowers us to the level of an “immoral” enemy. We demand that police abide by laws, and must adhere to the constitution and civil liberties in those duties. No one reasonably argues that the police can act lawlessly when dealing with lawless criminals, i.e., summary street executions, bombings, lootings of suspect houses or the wholesale beating of say a shoplifter or car thief.

Many on the Right heralded and praised the act with the patently immoral and thoughtless lament that “it is war.” They would not have considered that excuse for Nazi death camp guards or Japanese soldiers during the Second World War. Those criminals were held to account, often at the cost of their lives. War is not a frat party with license for abandon. It is not a right of passage, and even if it was, a soul does not switch off the tribal act of desecrating enemy dead in such a way when they return to “peaceful” society.

I have seen firsthand how acts of violence in war-whether justified or not, resonate terribly well beyond war. These men crossed a terrible line, not just in the act, but in their soul, and by the witness of thousands, and perhaps millions, have pulled us across that terrible line with them.  War is not a time for boys to be boys. It should be an aberration from rational human interaction and conflist resolution. It is a terrible and evil necessity, one that a nation should align itself on the side of righteousness and the weak.

I fully comprehend the moral entanlgements and confusion in combat. I have been there. I also understand revenge. I understand the emotions in a battle that would compel one to desire the ultimate fate upon an enemy. That is the specter of vengeance and the unhinged human heart. i confess to those emtions(watching Serb s purposely fire antiaircraft rounds at a mother and two children). I also understand that the world is a harsher and far more dangerous place when we give ourselves fully to that unbridled hate.

In the end, for these three Taliban fighters, who espouse a world and belief system I am very much opposed to, and who I believe must be defeated, the fight was over when the life left their bodies. What those soldiers then did is the worst side of all Americans and was a filthy and unnecessary act that can only be defended by those who have never been to war, or those who are too filled with innate anger and hate to see past the storms of their own heart.

Occupy My Heart: The radio Show on Best of the Left

The Play that made national headlines, changed hearts and energized a movement is now available on Best of the Left at the link below:

Filled with heart and truth, Occupy My Heart: A revolutionary Christmas Carol is not just a story for the holidays, but a tale of our times. You will be touched in this modern retelling of the Dickens classic.

Please share it with your friends, especially those who still think the struggle of our times is not the co-opting of our great nation by corporate and financial greed.

Big government? Damn right. The biggest! Just fix it.

So the mantra from the right these days is that government is too big, and we must shrink it, not to make it more efficient, but so it can get out of the way of business.In the age of the highest corporate profits in human history that rhetoric is obscene. Fundamentally, that is an anti-American, anti-Constituional idea. Let’s set aside the argument that government exists because it has the power to do things individuals simply can’t do, like build a road, fight a war, enforce health and safety codes, maintain a justice system and get toilets to flush safely from coast to coast.

This nation is being duped into buying the perverse and dangerous idea that corporations are virtuous and wise, while government is corrupt, inept and out of control. Are they saying they’d happily trade corporate control for the United States government? Have they never seen a corporation go bankrupt? Go out of business? End pensions? Break the law?

Name me a single corporation that has existed as long as the US government? Name me a single one that acts as a democracy? Name one that voluntarily protects the interests of individual workers rights without those rules being imposed by government. Name one. That corporation doesn’t exist.

Without government, corporations would pollute the environment, abuse employees, and even murder labor activists http://www.nytimes.com/2001/07/26/international/26COLO.html?searchpv=day04&pagewanted=print . They would be free to pay employees the lowest possible or barely survivable wages with no benefits in dangerous environments. Get hurt on the job due to their negligence and you’re history, and so is your family’s future.

The problem with government is that the Democrats and especially the Republicans have allowed and facilitated the corporate stranglehold on government,  a crime promoted and repackaged in the pseudo-Press suppositories of FOX, CNN, MSNBC and talk radio, all of which are owned by significant corporations with huge interest in the outcome of this quiet coup.

The people can take it back, but they have to get smart, get organized, and defend a government large enough to defend a Constitution that was written for people not corporations.

What you really what, whether you realize now or later, is a government big enough not to get bullied by terrorists, rogue nations, competing nations, and least of all self-interested corporations. But it has to be a government humble enough to protect the homeless guy on the corner from being run off because he fell on hard times, or the millions of families faced with foreclosure

The Bush tax cuts for the rich (still in effect) have failed to generate the jobs Republicans and the rich promised would happen if those tax cuts continued. The government should be big enough to conclude a war and recognize the rights of minorities and the wrongly accused.

Big government? Damn right. The biggest! just fix it.

Greed, for lack of a better word, is good. Greed is right. Greed works. Greed clarifies, cuts through, and captures, the essence of the evolutionary spirit…

Interesting how the words of a villain in a movie have now become the mantra of the greedy in this nation. From the movie Wall Street, with Michael Douglas, the amoral Gordon Gecko proclaims greed as his religion. The words are played proudly as introductions before numberous financial and investing programs. This morning, on WLS radio, host Don Wade crafted a monologue around the quote, while mocking the “Politically Correct” idea of “Love and Kindness,” in the pejorative.

It struck me that we could substitute other words for greed, such as say, rape, and the phrase works just as well:

“Rape, for lack of a better word, is good. Rape is right, Rape works…” because if your ultimate goal is simply to take what YOU decide is yours, want sex without compromise, and merely as a physical release, want to terrify, belittle, degrade and perhaps impregnate someone, then by the definitions and standards of the 1%, rape is good.

But Greed is its own form of rape. It is the moral rape of an economy and community. It is the perversion of passion and desire, because, unlike passion and desire, inherent in the word greed is a lack of boundaries and the exaltation of self above all others. Greed is opposite of community and love. Greed is an angle. Greed is an exploration of the limits of the moral, ethic and legal tolerance of society and of others. It looks for the weakness in our morality.

The standard use to be competition in business, but greed has made business, competition and government predatory and abusive. Greed makes everything not simply negotiable but target-able for acquisition and destruction, as we have seen; morality, the justice system, freedom, commerce, life. And none of that is for the benefit of society, but wholly for the  pornographic benefit of a few, to the detriment of society. That isn’t business, it should be a crime. 


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