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July 23, 2006

The Conundrum of Protecting Children Against Sexual Predators

by Joshua Minton

I have a friend whose husband just bought a $1,300 digital camera. Naturally, he has been jazzed about going out to take pictures. Well, the other day, he was walking around his condo complex, taking close-ups of flowers and plants in the rain. He had the camera strapped around his neck when he was walking by the pool which was populated with splashing children and their parents.

Well, the 18-year old girl working in the condo office just happened to look outside the window as he was walking by the pool and saw his camera and assumed he was taking pictures of half-naked children for his own perverted amusement.

So she called the cops.

Within five minutes, there were three police cruisers with opened doors and shouting cops shoving this poor dude up against the condo pool house and demanding that he relinquish his camera so they could check the memory stick. There were four pictures of the peppers they were growing on their back porch, two pictures of vines growing on the top of a brick hedge and three pictures of some purple flower with rain droplets on them. There were no people in any pictures on the camera.

The cops didn't even apologize when they let him go but thankfully they also didn't write him up formally either--you can't get a charge like that off your record.

So, my friend was royally pissed off the next day when I talked to her. She was going to get a lawyer and sue the complex. I shared her outrage but later that day when the following story broke in Columbus, I changed my mind:
As her 17-month-old son lay limp — his eyes rolled back in his head — on the couch downstairs, Billie Hilleary awakened Tuesday night to a flurry of apologies.

They came, she said, from her boyfriend, John M. White.

"He came up and woke me up and said, ‘He’s not breathing! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!’ and just kept saying, ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again," the 22-year-old mother said yesterday.

By night’s end, Hilleary was told that her son, Jaydon Hoberg, had died. She also learned from police that he had been raped, and that White had admitted to the sexual assault.
Now, my friend's husband is a really nice guy and nobody deserves to be treated that way. The cops were too harsh and too unapologetic but that is a symptom of society, not the issue which they were called in to regulate. The fact is that there are some sick fuckers out there preying on the most innocent among us and these people could be anybody (even good friends), so we as parents and moral citizens must be ever vigilant and pre-emptively vengeful towards these half-notched lunatics whose brains are so miswired that they generate sexual desire from the site of a young child.

So while I'm not happy that he was treated in the manner he was, I actually applaud that 18-year old's vigilance and quick action which did lead to an immediate resolution and ensured that those children playing in that pool were protected despite the lack of danger. My friend and her husband are DINKS (dual-income, no kids) and perhaps don't understand this reaction from a parent; someday they might, though.

LINKS:
Credit Card Firms to Cancel Pedophiles Accounts Who Use Their Cards to Pay for Child Pornography

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July 20, 2006

Victory without Effort

by Joshua Minton

What we are looking for is victory without effort. We want to be swept up into something like a small, safe, successful war.

--Carl Sagan, Billions and Billions: Thoughts on Life and Death at the Brink of the Millennium


This quote from the second chapter of this Sagan book really struck me for some reason today, given what is happening in the Middle East right now. Peace in our time? I say, when did humanity ever have peace in any time? We have crawled from the muck as a species and much of that muck still fills the innocent and empty hearts as they are indoctrinated into this wicked system of sociology which we have ignorantly convinced ourselves is the only smart way to live.

As I grow older and continue to study the activities of man on the grand scale we call politics, the less I trust in the inherent goodness of process and policy to guide each of us to justice. I don't believe salvation comes from the church or the Bible, nor do I believe it comes from the babbling brook of bullshit which comes out of Congress, the Supreme Court, and especially the White House nowadays.

I even wince now when watching how uncomfortable Tony Snow (a fellow Cincinnatian and high school football rival) seems to be when up on the podium. It's because he's standing on a mountain of steaming bullshit and he's sinking in deeper every day while trying to convince everyone else that the smell in the room was just Helen Thomas farting out of her mouth.

I'm not a big sports fan but my passion for politics and following war (doesn't matter whose fighting) can't be that far removed from the passion of the Cheese Heads or the soccer nuts who kill each other in droves each year.

Consider this passage from the same chapter as the quote above:
The human species is hundreds of thousands of years old (the human family several millions of years old). We have led a sedentary existence--based on farming and domestication of animals--for only the last 3 percent of that period, during which is all our recorded history. In the first 97 percent of our tenure on Earth, almost everything that is characteristically human came into being.
Sagan goes on to argue that for millions of years, hunting and engaging in territorial wars for living space and access to food was human society and that this became as ingrained to the newborn human mammal as standing upright moments after being born is to a foal.

But where does it end? We know where the human life ends--death, every time without exception (despite what Christians will tell you) so why do we need to take it past that? Why do we have to invent the wildest nonsense about what happens after we die? Why can't we just sit with our own death, with the ending of us as individuals--all our pains, miseries, memories (both good and bad), the claim on our possessions and the figments of our imaginations we expect others to accept as ultimate truth?

Why can't we just sit in silence or, as Maynard said, "Why can't we just be sober?" What if we begin from that silence where we have accepted our inevitable ending? What if we experience that ending in the moment and then look at the world with truly newborn eyes?

What would war look like to someone who was dead but still drew breath? What would bullets fired in the name of self-righteous deities be to those who had left those childish figments behind for the utter simplicity of the one thing we all know to be true fact--that each of us will one day end?

All I can do is shake my head in amazement as the dredge of humanity plays out the last strands of their monkey genetics in the litter box of the Middle East, blood running between grains of sand that would be considered next to worthless in the desert of the North American continent but is somehow revered as a holy bullshit historic golden calf, some trinket to be placed on a shelf and mumbled over and shuffled around like an old man in a nursing home who has lost his dentures along with his mind.

Maybe all sandy shit holes are built for nuclear explosions. Maybe we'll all be better off when all the deserts of this world are filled with radioactive contamination and the mutilated carcasses of human beings who lived in poverty and died of diseases that could have been cured if the resources of our species had been allocated to the machinery of health rather than the gears of war.

Or maybe Jesus or Muhammed or the ghost of Ghandi really will sneak in the back door when nobody's looking and pull the rug out from under the Masters of War.

Maybe people will stop being so god damned mean to each other.

And maybe all the women I've ever loved in my life will suddenly realize that despite my short stature and explosive temper, I really am a sexy genius and they will each come to join my harem like birds flying south in the winter by instinct.

Maybe...

NOTES:
Photo Courtesy of EW

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July 17, 2006

Watch John Stossel's "Stupid in America"

by Joshua Minton



I love John Stossel's work. I think he's the only honest reporter left in the media (with the possible exception of Lou Dobbs). Every one of Stossel's in-depth exposes leaves you feeling that government truly is the root of all evil (or rather it's the average person's sheep-like dependence on government to perform functions that even the weakest spirits of the 1900s considered the domain of individual responsibility) and this show is no exception.

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July 10, 2006

Has George W. Bush Gone from a Speaking Dynamo to a Man with Marbles in His Mouth?

by Joshua Minton



I don't agree with the contention of this video that GW has "Presenile Dementia" but I do agree that there is a marked difference. I would think, if anything, it's deliberate and that the American people have been sold a disarming caricature that is easy to superficially attack and dismiss as ignorant and bumbling. Make no mistake about it, our President is a smart, witty, and decisive man and you would doubt that at your own peril. But I also believe that it takes a certain personality to get elected and quite another to effectively lead a nation. The task for PR people is put together a double-edged candidate who is buffoon enough to be electable and subtly ruthless enough to get the job done. Obviously, the man was elected twice and history will have to be the judge of the latter.

Either way, the difference in speaking styles shown in this video is pronouned.

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July 9, 2006

Ducking Soldiers Funerals and Selling Out the American Economy: Just Another Day in Republican Washington?

by Joshua Minton


Here are two little outrages I came across in my weekly web scouring:

Exhibit A: According to the military magazine Stars and Stripes, George W. Bush has not attended one soldier's funeral who has died in Iraq.
When Stars and Stripes nabbed an exclusive interview with President Bush on July 4 — aboard Air Force One — it devoted most of the questions to ones submitted by service members.

One, put to the commander-in-chief by the newspaper's Jeff Schogol: Has he attended even one funeral for a fallen soldier from Iraq? No, he replied. “Because which funeral do you go to? In my judgment, I think if I go to one I should go to all. How do you honor one person but not another?” he said.
Now, I don't know about you but I would think that going to at least one funeral would be adviseable by his PR staff, even if it's on Veteran's Day or the anniversary of the seizing of Baghdad, something. Personally, I think it's a copout answer to say if you had to go to one, you'd have to go to all and how do you choose. I mean, that's the kind of bullshit answer you give when someone asks you which of your kids you love the best, not when it comes to honoring the ultimate sacrifice of young men and women who have given themselves over to the machinery of the state in an effort that should already be over and done with (in my opinion).

Exhibit B: According to the Counterpunch Newsletter:
[Dick] Cheney has dumped another (estimated) $10 to $25 million in a European bond fund which tells us that he is counting on a steadily weakening dollar.
Imagine a world where the Vice President of the United States invests his money in foreign currency, betting on the further collapse of his own economy...well, don't knock yourself out straining your imagination because you can read it in the VPs financial disclosure statement. This little tidbit has left me too depressed to even swear him down.

God, if you're listening, please send us a worthy Third Party candidate to run in 2008. He (or she--but probably he) doesn't have to be pretty but they should definitely be smart. And they don't have to be a philosophy professor but please let them live by a set of admirable ethics. And please don't let them be brought to us by anything with an "NC" after it. We don't want anymore corporate sponsored spineless, dickless, shitless zombies who nod with snot bubbles in their noses as the military industrialists dictate world policy in a smokey room outskirted by ten dollar whores, Britney Spears music, and a constant loop of the Zapruder film running in case any world leaders get any big ideas about "truth, justice, and all that other stuff."

LINKS:
Exhibit A
Exhibit B
Photo by itchycrabs

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July 4, 2006

Freedom is Calling: Happy 230th Birthday America

by Joshua Minton

Last night, I wished America a happy 230th birthday from the 26th floor of a high rise office building in downtown Columbus as fireworks exploded in areas all around the 15 mile pie wedge view of the city I had.

Firecrackers were around 200 years before Christ was born when the Chinese roasted bamboo to make loud pops that scared little children and then made them laugh as their parents hugged them tight to let them know they were okay, that it was just for fun.

But in America, fireworks on the 4th of July are a sacred tradition, one in which we preen our feathers, pat each other on the back, and congratulate ourselves for bringing the concepts of freedom and democracy to the world even though they've been around since before Socrates took up doing shots of hemloch.

But I like to keep it real on the 4th, which is why my favorite American Founding Father is Patrick Henry--a man who kept it so real, he never left his home state of Virginia to run for the pussy office of Commander-in-Chief. Here was a man who was so adamantly opposed to replacing the Articles of Confederation with the Constitution that he threatened to become a revolutionary against the very government he had very nearly died to help establish. Patrick Henry knew the Civil War was coming with the federalizing of the nation under a strong central government--only a fool wouldn't have.

So, I believe that is important to take stock of one's life on their birthday and that a nation should constantly be in a state of self-examination. And here's the deal with America--we are a great nation peopled by great individuals full of the spirit of kindness and community. But we are also a nation bridled by corporate greed, a greed which currently controls the media and therefore the hegemonic process of cultural identity. Things are very plastic here in America right now. Our entire reality is manufactured by the 24 hour news channels and the color chart which tells us how safe to feel and which the government uses to shock us into inaction and mind-numbing complacency.

Racism, religious intolerance and homophobia are an unfortunate reality which affects many in our country, putting up barriers and blowing up bridges of opportunity. But for every bridge that is blown up, a new mountain rises which demands the will and skill of the individual to climb it and move beyond to the green pastures in the valley of peace that Martin Luther King Jr. spoke about almost 40 years ago as he stood before the Washington monument and urged the spirit of our nation, and the spirit of mankind, on to a new reality of world peace.

Peace is the absence of war but world peace has nothing to do with either. World peace is a marriage of mankind to one another, like land continents slamming together out of sheer mortality, human beings must learn to get along with one another in a system of scarce resources or learn to sing hymns silently as our civilization, indeed our species, sinks into the evolutionary abyss which has engulfed millions of biological entities before us. World Peace will be the most challenging evolutionary obstacle human beings have ever been stupid or brave enough to attempt and the first full-hearted step of the journey will be the only one needed for true freedom is not a movement, it's a spark; it's a light switch being thrown on forever illuminating what was cast in absolute darkness before.

Birthdays are also a time to look to the future, a time to dream of what can be. Many see a future of smarter bombs, oil pipelines that flow to one destination, and billions of human beings subjugated under the mental slavery of a common ideological fix--a metaphor for the masses which will placate and inundate the creative and revolutionary spirit which brought human beings down from the trees onto the hot African plains where we went from foraging to farming to murdering our own and stealing their stock, then it calling it right by framing governments around the action. There hasn't been a government in history that hasn't lied to, stolen from, and murdered its own people by drawing lines, pointing fingers, and calling out "monster." The only thing that changes is where the lines get drawn and this is what we call History.

But I believe there can be a day when all lines get erased. I believe this because I'm both a dreamer and a fool, the latter of which the world is too full of and the former far too bereft.

Birthdays should be for looking into the heart of the moment, making the space between seconds freeze so that reality can be viewed as it truly is--without bounds, without ego, and without reference. It has been said that time is a river and in that river flows the deep and collective sorrow of the human race. We are each born. We each die. And no one knows what the fuck happens before or after these two events; all sorrow springs from this mystery as does all inspiration. Great fear and great faith are the primary drivers of the human spirit and we must each make a choice, every second of our lives, when we are engaging in action and in relationship with one another, which of these forces we allow to drive us.

Happy birthday, America. You've made it so much longer than history predicted and you have so much further to go before you reach the destination of your faith and your potential.

May God bless the human being and may we have mercy on each other.

LINKS:
Patrick Henry was the Greatest American

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