Online Concerns

An account at an online drugstore that I rarely used – and thankfully didn’t store my financial information – was hacked, and the person tried to purchase something using their name and financials, but using my email.  I got a notice from the company that I had changed my information and to contact them if it wasn’t me, so I tried to log in, but they changed my password, and I contacted the site admin immediately and they cancelled and blocked my account, but then either the same person, people, bot? tried to change my Twitter account to their name and another password using my email, and I’m not sure why?

Maybe they wanted to spam anyone who follows me?  They can try to spam anyone without gaining access to my account.  I do my best not to store any financial information online, always asking any place I purchase from to remove any sensitive information.

I signed up for a healthcare portal at my doctor’s office, and when I accessed it, it was creepy seeing all my health information displayed.  Who else is looking at that?

Being able to check my bank account, or update my healthcare information, or make purchases online is so convenient and easy, but how vulnerable are we making ourselves?

Groups like Anonymous have shown that they can hack into the most allegedly secure sites, so what chance do I stand?  I’m sure my beliefs and activism pisses off plenty of people, but I feel like I’m one of the decent folks – trying to keep our society more free, our air breathable, our water drinkable – and accessible – and our food edible and nutritious, and I don’t try to hack into accounts to make a point, or steal from them.

I don’t have a specific god, but I’m spiritual, and that alone is enough for radicals to wish me dead, or at least silenced.  They follow fear rather than love and goodwill.

I’ve noticed followers on my blog that only want to sell something, and hits from countries known for hacking, and maybe these folks, if they are people and not bots, genuinely like or enjoy what I write, and I apologize if I’m wrong, but my sense is they have no interest in my thoughts.

If anyone reading this has dealt with online attacks, and staying safe online, or just has experience to share, I’d love to hear from you!

Thank you, and I hope you all have safe and kind online presence.  Cheers.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Our Time Comes

My mother is in her 80’s now.  80’s!  I realized what that means at our holiday family gathering when we were opening presents, and I gave my mother her gift to open, and something was happening to her, freaking us all out.  She closed her eyes, and seemed to be struggling internally, swallowing, all the while drifting away.  I called out, “MOM”!, as though my voice could stop her slipping into – whatever the hell was happening.  Her eyes fluttered, then half-opened in response, and I could see it was taking extraordinary energy for her to come to awareness, and then she tried to get up to use the bathroom, but she nearly passed out upon rising.  I grabbed her, but my left arm is still weak and I couldn’t hold her, yelling to my sibs: “Help me! I can’t hold her.”  She was in stocking feet and sliding down our wood floor when my oldest sister grabbed her, and then my next oldest sister, the nurse, took her other side and they helped her into the bathroom.

I felt like we were witnessing her dying, and it was terrifying.  After what seemed like an eternity, one of my sisters came out of the bathroom saying she took her blood pressure, but couldn’t get it accurately – that it was reading so low she’d be dead – and all I could think was ‘duh, she was dying!’, but stopped myself from saying it. I wanted to call 911, or get her to a hospital, but my sisters asked me to wait and see if she worsened.  After 10 minutes or so, she had recovered, becoming her chipper, aware, self within a half-hour or so, which was actually more unsettling, because – what happened?

While the drama unfolded in the bathroom, the rest of us, my son and his girlfriend – who was at our holiday gathering for the first time – my S.O., my sister’s husband, and another long-time family friend were unsure what to do.  Once my mother was starting to feel better but wanted to stay in the bathroom for a while longer, my oldest sister stayed with her and we proceeded with the gift exchange, which seemed rude, but my son had to leave shortly, as did my next oldest sister, and our family friend, so we halfheartedly continued.

I feel like a total shit now, like, of course we should have waited for my mother and sister to come out of the bathroom, but we felt the danger had passed as my oldest sister was staying in there against my mother’s protests that she was fine.  I was trying to weigh carrying on with making everyone wait for however long it would be.  That feels like a co-dependent decision now.

But this is life.  I make crappy decisions all the time, no matter how I try for perfection.

My mother is going to die, and maybe soon.  Perhaps, though, she’ll accomplish her goal of reaching 103, thereby outliving her father, who died at 102 – but as John Lennon famously sung in, Beautiful Boy, and others have voiced before him: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”.

I don’t want to lose her from this world, though.  There’s the rub.  I know it’s inevitable and I have to prepare for that happening sooner rather than later – but it could also be that I pass before her.  Not being assured another minute is scary, but the odds of me dying soon are lower than that of my mother’s. So, I am embracing whatever time we have left.

Good memories of connection, love, fun, great conversation and family history are what I’m focusing on now, and I hope that my son will feel the desire to know and understand where he came from, and what my young life was like sooner than I did with my folks.

I remember a gravestone that read something like, ‘Know that whenever I was taken, the end came too soon’. I still have more time with my mother, so I will honor our gift of time the best I can.

cropped-meandmom2010.jpg

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

 

 

 

 

All I Want For Christmas Is A Valium

My family came to celebrate our Christmas gathering on the Solstice, which worked out nicely for my mother and me, the two de facto pagans in the bunch.  My mother is more of a ‘in fact’ pagan as she follows the religion and I just like their ideas more than I like any other ideas, religious or spiritually speaking.

Mostly, I like the return of the light.  Summer cannot get here fast enough now.  Winter is still and lovely at times, but it’s also cold and depressing for me.  Spring is sweeter than I want to admit here, but I live for the season that won’t be here for several more months – so suck it up, I must.

Out of my two sisters, one doesn’t like me much, and no matter what I do, my actions, or inaction, are interpreted in the worst way.  My other sister and I get along much better, and we have mutual respect for each other, but religion will always be our barrier.

The brother who showed up is the youngest of our bunch, and because he’s intelligent and relatively typical, I forget that his brain is different.  He’s in the autism spectrum, as well as being a trauma survivor.  Various medications have left him paranoid at times, or haven’t helped his depression and anger.  He’s got a better doctor, new medication, and seems more even than I’ve seen him in a while, but he’s involved with an active alcoholic who only likes him when she’s drunk, but my brother has such low self-regard that he takes it.

He was hit by a car while riding his bike last summer and is waiting for his settlement to get a car again and maybe elevate his living circumstances, but I get the feeling this new love interest of his is just waiting around to see what she can get out of him, because he was also talking about the things he’d like to do for her once he has some money.  It’s good to be generous, but he doesn’t get that people suck and ‘hurt people, hurt people’.  I’ve never met the woman, but from the few times he’s spoken of her, she seems like a bucket of trouble.  Not that my brother isn’t, but he doesn’t need a bigger trouble-bucket, and because his brain doesn’t connect well socially, he cannot listen to reason, or accept that he’s being used.  Again.  For like the thousandth time.

No, you can’t have his number.

Then my S.O.’s family came to our place for Christmas Eve dinner, and while they’re nice people, and I love his folks, his brother’s kid isn’t given clear boundaries or consequences.  He was given an acoustic guitar among his presents, which he proceeded to slam on like he was a slash rocker, and every feeble ‘stop that’ resulted in about five seconds of quiet followed by doubled-down ‘playing’.  I’m still a nobody but I wanted to grab the guitar and show him how some rockers use to leave hotel rooms, or finish their shows in equipment destruction.  If one of his parents had taken the damn thing away from him and told him he could have it back when they left, or some other obvious solution, it could have been a nice end to the night.  As it is, I am investing in noise cancelling headphones for next year.

My boyfriend said that in past years, their son would jump on my boyfriend’s couch, and his parents half-halfheartedly told him to stop, which the kid never did because the parents suck at follow-through.  Because my boyfriend is family, he could have intervened, but he feels it’s the parents job to manage their child’s behavior.

I hate that I’m also the slowest eater of the bunch, and around the dinner table, the kid kept whispering to his father about how much longer I was going to take.  I took even longer after that.  It was immature, I know, but revenge is still sweet as he had to sit there and wait for me to finish.

After that, I excused myself, and like the Rolling Stones intoned many years ago, I went ‘running for the shelter of her mother’s little helper‘ – Valium.  The evening became much more enjoyable, and, of course, they got ready to leave shortly after.  That was fine because my anxiety was already so high that the sedating effects barely registered.  I considered taking another one, but didn’t want to feel like a Lindsay Lohan trainee anymore than I already did.

Christmas is over, but my plans for next year are already forming: they involve a beach, my boyfriend as a Cabana boy, and no other relatives anywhere in sight.

A girl can dream, can’t she?

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Stressed

I’ve made some changes that will help my financial situation, even if only moderately.  John Steinbeck wrote in America and Americans: “I guess the trouble was that we didn’t have any self-admitted proletarians.  Everyone was a temporarily embarrassed capitalist.”  Well, who wants to be the proletariat?  I’d rather have the problems of the wealthy than the problems of the impoverished.  The chances of that happening, while not impossible, get slimmer with each passing year.  Mostly, I’d like to be comfortable, and not have to choose paying utilities vs. eating.

Richard Branson, the entrepreneur extraordinaire was asked at what financial level he felt successful, and his alleged reply was: ‘fifty million’.  I’d feel successful if I still had fifty dollars in my account at the end of a month!  Well, maybe not successful, but certainly less stressed out.

I can also use my local food bank once a month – as long as there’s food – and if worse keeps going to worst, many of my bills will be moot because I’ll be homeless (even though friends have offered their couch if it comes to that)!  I have the library I can connect to the internet with, and I can store stuff with various friends.  At least it’s just me now.  I know my poverty embarrasses my son, but I’m doing the best I can, for me.  And it’s not like I’m not doing anything!  I am working – but it’s a few jobs that are still only part-time, and not enough to afford much more than basics, and I’m also trying to build a life that I want to be in.  My son would like me to stay alive for as long as that’s possible, and that’s my commitment to him, whether or not I want to.

I have to remember that I was a success for a long chunk of time.  I raised a son, who is a good human being.  He had way more than I ever had, and that’s how it should be.  He’s in college, and while I can’t help him financially, he’s getting scholarships, and taking out loans, and at least he’s earning a degree which I hope will help him pay back all his loans quickly.

In the meantime, I have my band, and the rest of the world goes away when I sing – which is one of those gifts I wouldn’t trade for more money but no solace.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Picture This

The picture I’m viewing shows you and some of your family.  I haven’t seen your sisters in a while and I’m shocked by their age.  In my mind they’ve never changed.  I look again, my sight adjusted, and ‘oh, yes, now I see her as she was, and as she is, both’.  I mourn for those just meeting her, but I shouldn’t because I’m supposing that the past holds more value than today, and that’s my judgment, not anyone else’s.  My life orientation has grown to encompass so much more than I could possibly know from my old, stunted, vantage point.

My son, his friends, and I, are driving to the beach.  One of his friends, a young man barely out of his teens, speaks disdainfully of a woman we pass as we drive.  She’s in a white convertible Volkswagen Bug, a huge pink flower sits in the built in dashboard vase.

He says with a laugh that she’s trying to be ‘younger than she is’ by having that flower in the vase and the shirt she’s wearing.  I react internally, feeling myself withdraw, stung by his words that felt directed at me.  I chuckle, as though in agreement – a betrayal.  I wish I had been better prepared to parry, but I forfeited instead.

No, perspective-lacking boy, she’s not acting younger than she is – she’s being exactly who she is.  The secret that no one has told you yet, dear boy/man, is that this is it.  You are who you are.  You will grow and change and choose whatever works for you, but it’s all a façade.  You do your best to represent who you truly are, but can a picture do justice to the moment you took it?  You’re the only one who feels what it was like to be in that moment.  Maybe there was a slight breeze, and you felt free and caressed by the wind, perhaps by some otherworldly being or force, then.  Maybe the sun was bearing down on you, or a chill in the air made it difficult to keep your hand steady as you snapped the picture.

Until you’ve lived a full life, you have no valid basis to judge someone beyond your years on simple matters, even though you will.  What I wish I had known is that my body would change, but the essential me wouldn’t.  Maybe some people do change radically as they age, and all of us continue to grow – whether we like and/or accept it, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

I have loathed the term ‘act your age’ since I was in my teens.  Was there a manual that you came with that I somehow missed?  No, you want me to act, or be, at your comfort level, which has nothing to do with me.  I get that there are circumstances where we need consideration of others, and I think that’s what maturity is about, but otherwise, the only ‘rules’ are the ones you give yourself, or try to impose on others.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Political Ruminations

America is such a screwed-up country, and I don’t know who or what is ‘right’, but we’re wildly out of balance.  If you read comments under any political statement on the web, what people say about their fellow citizens is so harsh.  Can’t afford medical insurance? – then you should die.  There are people who utter and write that kind of uncompassionate tripe, whether they believe it or not.  Would they say that about their parents, or their children?  If they would, then they are psychotic and should be medicated and/or institutionalized.

We can’t afford care for all, or food for all, or housing for all – under the current system.  I don’t agree with philosophies that rule from the top down.  Theocracy is totalitarian rule, and is usually more repressive/regressive than other forms of governance.  I’d rather be ruled by an atheist dictator than one who purports to follow the orders of some unverifiable/unknowable ‘god’.   There is no Utopia.  All forms of governance are fraught with missteps and corruption.  I like the idea of a council with elected members – all of whom have a publicly funded budget for their campaigns, and that’s it.  Now that we have a plutocracy where funding comes from undisclosed sources in an organization, political influence can now be, and probably is, from outside the United States as well as from multi-billion dollar corporations.

Mitt Romney and the Republican party want to make the poor poorer by taking away programs that barely help them, as well as making them pay more tax, while greatly reducing, if not eliminating, taxes on the wealthy.

Eventually, the people will revolt as poverty increases in the United States to the level of third world countries, if it’s not there already.  Pockets of the citizenry are doing what they can to keep rights for the labor class – and while unions need reforming and more flexibility – they are also important to keep rapacious business practices at bay.

I remember hearing that while I’m preaching to the choir, even the choir needs practice.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Getting In The Spirit

I bought a Christmas tree today.

I didn’t have one last year, and the holidays are usually depressing and far too filled with expectation and anxiety for me to enjoy them.  I’d rather keep to myself this time of year.  I don’t like holiday gatherings or Christmas parties much, and I suppose I dissociate for the month of December, and often into January.  Trying to keep away from alcohol is harder this time of year too.  Most of my friends drink, and none of them abuse it, so they don’t really know what it’s like for me.  I’m at that place with drinking alcohol that I can either control it or enjoy it, but I can’t do both.

I am not as anxious this year as I have been previously, but I’ve been careful to not make many plans so I don’t have to pretend to enjoy myself or others.  My family gets together for a holiday dinner and then we exchange gifts, and that’s pretty much all I can handle.  Well, that, and having my son with me for his winter break.  Christmas isn’t as fun as it used to be when he was little, but I really like having a pretty tree all lit up, and getting cozy on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa and watching, It’s A Wonderful Life, or A Christmas Carol, on Christmas Eve, and of course, how could I let Christmas go by without watching, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and, A Charlie Brown Christmas?

When I was in college, one of the girls in my dorm phoned her father the night, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, was playing, and he stayed on the phone for the whole show.  She told us that she had gone on vacation over Christmas during High School one year, and her father had phoned her so they could still watch the show together.  That made such a big impression on me, and made me wish I had a father like that, and probably made all the girls in our dorm who were there with us that night wish that too.

Even though there are aspects of the season that I can enjoy, I’m happiest when it’s all over.  My true celebration is the Winter Solstice; there is no one who appreciates the return of the light more than I do.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Saturday, Please Don’t Mock Me

No writer’s block will stand in my way.

I banish you, wandering thoughts!

Stay on task, write the book –

oh wait, a cute man just walked by, and I stopped to have a look…

No!

Back to writing, back I say, I don’t care that it’s such a glorious day!

There will be others, now don’t you fret, and you’ll waste them as you would have today if you didn’t commit to write, I bet.

Dr. Suess, you are not, well, maybe if we find a fish in a pot, and the fish starts talking, and telling you what to do – but if that should happen – I’d go to a doctor, if I were you.

Fine, I shall go back to writing my story, about people doing things, maybe it’ll get gory.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Spooky Hallowe’en!

Jack-O'Lantern in the snow

I’m looking out the window at the six inches of snow still on the ground, and it’s hard to get into the Hallowe’en mood.  There are still green leaves on many trees around here, and we haven’t really had a proper autumn.  These climate change indicators suck.  We had a hurricane two months ago, along with a record-breaking flood.  We had a tornado two months before that, which decimated several areas in Massachusetts.  If you had said that we’d have a tornado and a hurricane, a record-breaking flood, as well as record-breaking early snowfall, I’d have packed my bags and moved to – where?  Is there any place relatively unaffected?  We’ve had tornadoes for the past several years now, not like they do in the flatter mid-west, of course, but it is extremely unusual weather for this area, and it’s frightening how common it’s becoming.  I’d rather go through a haunted house or see a scary movie – at least I know that has an ending.

I suppose climate change is the spook this year, and giving it candy and sending it on its way is not going to appease it.  Any smashed eggs or strewn toilet paper tricksters might dole out do not usually cause dire consequences, however annoying it may be to clean up, but getting the power back on after heavy snows brought wires down and cut off electric service to millions, is not so easily remedied.

Trick-or-Treat, indeed!

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P.S. For anyone who looked for the hidden object in yesterday’s post, I updated the post with a photo pointing to the object.  Cheers!

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Possible Hit And Run

One of my brothers was hit by a car last night.  He remembers hearing screeching tires and the next thing he knew he was looking at first responders.  I can’t remember if he said he was walking or riding his bike.

His collar-bone is broken, and he’s badly bruised, but alive.  I called the police and they said they could release the accident report to a family member in person, but that requires driving back down to Cape Cod, and I can’t do that now.  We don’t yet know if it was a hit and run, but there had to have been witnesses.  It happened on the main drag, but it was after dark.

My brother sounded cheerful when I talked to him, but he’s also drugged up, so it’s hard to know how he’s really doing.

I feel this intense guilt, like I am responsible for my brother because that’s how it was when we were kids.  There were six of us children, and the older two boys were pals, and my older two sisters were united against me much of the time, and my default family person was my younger brother.  I wanted to be with my sisters, not my stupid younger brother.

That’s probably where the guilt I feel came from.  He was the only family member who accepted me and wanted me around, but I didn’t want the same thing.  We did laugh a lot together as we got older and he wasn’t such an idiot anymore, but I’ve never felt as endeared to him as he seems to feel toward me.  I suppose I should feel closer to him because we are the nearest in age, and were the last kids in a violent, destructive family, but my brother also has A.D.D., maybe even Asperger’s Syndrome, and that has been difficult to deal with as well.

I suppose it’s telling that I believe I wasn’t present enough for my brother, or I somehow caused his deficits by not being a good sister, when where the hell were my parents?

I am so tired of trying to explain my weirdness to people so that they can understand me.  I feel like I am a category of human being unto myself, belonging to a small group of freaks in a dark circus, only I never joined up.  My membership is by default, and if I had joined, I’d either want to be the beautiful lady who rides the elephant, or one of the acrobats.

I get it that these are the ‘cards I was dealt’ – a fucking insipid metaphor if I ever heard one – and I am doing my best to learn how to cheat – believe me – because life always plays with a loaded deck.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

Cruisin’ Back To School

My son and I rode to Boston this morning.  He drove and I did my best not to be anxious.  I had to trust, yet again, that he was paying close attention.  Even if the potential consequence was a smashed car and no injuries, I can’t afford losing my vehicle, or having to get major repairs.  I got a ticket for speeding on our last trip back from Boston, and I made sure to stay with traffic this time, or to only go a few miles above the speed limit.  I, unfortunately, love driving fast.  It is so hard for me to plod along wasting my time driving when life is waiting for me to get where I need to be.  I am not one of those who looks at the journey as part of the experience unless I’m traveling where I’ve never been.  If I could teleport, that probably wouldn’t be fast enough for me most of the time.  I want to live in the future and be able to come back to the past at my leisure while everyone else is catching up with me.

The hundred-dollar ticket would have been worth it if my insurance didn’t also go up as a result.  Today, ironically, I didn’t pass one police cruiser on the way home, but the people behind me sure were annoyed with my reasonable travel speed when the double-lane road changed to two-way traffic.  I could have driven in the breakdown lane to let people pass, which I sometimes do, but I was going over the speed limit, so they needed to wait to pass me on a straightaway, and glared at me as they went by.  I always hope that people like that will be stopped up ahead because I appreciate a good comeuppance, but I also hate it when that happens to me, so I just thought: ‘whatever’, as they zoomed out of sight.

Driving in Boston is always a hassle when school’s starting up because people triple park sometimes, or the usual two lanes which are already choked with traffic becomes one lane for miles, and blaring horns are just a pressure release valve because no one can go anywhere no matter how long or insistently they beep.  I’ve become better at not adding to gridlock.  I’ve learned to stop before a cross-walk, or at a yellow light, if I can see that traffic up beyond the intersection isn’t moving.  I try to drive considerately, and I have had excellent luck driving into and out of Boston over the last few years.  It helps that I’m getting to know the city somewhat as well.

I do think I could enjoy living in the city but, like most other people, I’d rather live outside of the constant din of traffic and people.  I’d rather have my home in a more bucolic setting and my career in the frenetic city center.

My son’s dorm is closer to the campus center this year, and I hope that will be a nice change for him.  He’s anxious about the work-load and being disciplined enough to maintain decent grades, and I reminded him that his scholarships depend upon him staying at a B average.  He’s motivated enough that a poor mid-term showing would kick him into high gear, but it’s more stressful that way.  I was one of those students whose every paper turned in may as well have been soaked with sweat for how hard I had to work at it, and while other classmates of mine breezed through and gathered A’s, I rarely got higher than a B for my efforts.

My son will get through it, regardless of the stress or ease, and it will be sooner than he could imagine now.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

As The Pendulum Swings

A friend and I were debating about taxes and about living in a society rather than as outlaws and renegades.

She thinks everyone should pay the same tax, regardless of income and I disagree.  It’s not about merit that I agree or disagree.  Certainly there are those who are content to not work and subsist on what they are given or can steal, and there are those who work ceaselessly and still never make enough to even be called ‘middle class’.

I’m not debating about how we got into the mess we’re in, or the ridiculous tax code, although those are issues to deal with – and in fact, form the crux of the solution through true reform rather than lip service and reneging on deals, or perpetual amendments.

My conclusions are based on my personality, and what I’ve been through or witnessed in this world, so of course I’m biased.  Every last one of us is biased depending on our brain structure and/or our life filters.

Corporations should pay a higher tax rate than solitary citizens when they make higher profits, and especially when they are a type of business that uses resources directly, but also indirectly.  We all use our planet for sustenance, but those who use greater resources need to pay to play.  Industries who are reaping greater profits than at any other time in history, such as the oil and gas industries, should not be government ‘welfare recipients’ in the form of subsidies.

My friend argued that someone working harder than others shouldn’t be penalized by having to pay higher taxes, and while I heard her argument, I disagree.  I don’t think the taxes should be burdensome, and I think that higher rates should apply after a certain threshold, but I question what ‘working harder’ means.  If she works for a company that compensates her well, and she was lucky enough – because I do know that some people are in a better position than others through birth or by chance, as she was and is – then that is good for her, but there are others working just as hard, and actually harder than her at multiple jobs that won’t hire full-time workers so they don’t have to pay insurance, and those people are not making nearly the wages she is.  I know she doesn’t want to have to help lazy users as she envisions her tax dollars going, and those people shouldn’t be helped if that’s an honest assessment, but the majority of people are working hard and still not making ends meet.

Those tax dollars do a lot to ease the burden of those trying to better themselves by making education less expensive or having more dollars available to help pay for an education that will help those people get better jobs.  Those tax dollars help keep our food supply safer by having more food inspectors.  Those tax dollars help keep art and music programs available which enrich our lives and broaden our minds as surely as any core subject does, and perhaps even better as art and music stirs our creative selves helping us to bring more to our life as well as others’ lives.

Tax dollars help pave our roads, build bridges, and keep police, firefighters and other local, state and federal workers.  Those tax dollars also help the poor get health services, along with giving the elderly and infirm an income – however meager.

A majority chose this as our social standard when the economy went to hell over half a century ago, and it helped build a middle class in this country that was strong and relatively stable.  When the more cynical and greedy among us got power they instituted deregulation of polluting industries, of banking and securities, as well as giving corporations and the wealthy even more money and power by declaring money as a part of free speech in the horrid FEC v. Citizen’s United Supreme Court decision.

Now some in the Republican party are hell-bent on breaking up unions and trying to send us back as a nation to the robber-baron era of lawless rapaciousness in business and industry.

Democracy is only as strong as its safeguards, and I’ve been noticing a lot more foxes guarding our collective hen-house lately.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

The Festival Day Of Lughnasadh (Or Lammas) Today

Harvest Festival - a sacrifice of food during ...
Image via Wikipedia

Not only am I transitioning from vacation back to my typical life, but today is the internationally agreed upon day for Lughnasadh, or the First Harvest Festival.  The ancient Celts would most likely be celebrating after sunset on August 13th this year, being this month’s full moon.

I found a fairly short piece about Lughnasadh at: http://www.druidry.org/obod/festivals/lughnasadh.html

I am very affected by the change of seasons, especially to the loss of light, so while this is a celebratory time for the fruits of the harvest and sustenance through the long winter ahead, it is also a period of mourning the shortened daylight hours.  Thankfully, there is much work to do and a lot of energy to put toward the tasks ahead.

May you have a plentiful harvest in all ways.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.

The Opposite Of Hope

I know I have to continue to fight anyway, because what else is there to do?  Giving up means dying, and I’m not there yet.

Political news about permits for deep-water drilling getting pushed through, regardless of the lack of improvements or safe-guards a year after the worst oil-related disaster ever is mind-blowing, but I know it shouldn’t be.

We need the oil; those people need jobs – so screw the ocean and even the lives of those who work on the rigs.  They know what the risks are, but they need the money.  What does it matter if the all the oil that has spilled is still fouling the water and shoreline and delicate coastal waterways that once harbored sea-life nurseries but can no longer provide that refuge?  Out of sight, out of mind.

Oh, BP and TransOcean and Halliburton had record-breaking profit years, but people along the Gulf of Mexico are struggling with sickness from all the exposure to crude oil along with Corexit, and other surfactants, etc.  But per usual our corrupt media outlets proclaim that ‘there’s nothing to see here, folks; go about your business’.

I’m overwhelmed by such callous profit-driven action, and I know I shouldn’t be because this is how it’s always been.  But I’m not desensitized today.  This is the world I live in, and I know I’m not alone in this fight, but those who have the money make the rules and all I can do is yell and write and in the end, the bad guys still win.

Moving to the remotest reaches of the world won’t help.  I can’t pretend this isn’t happening, and I’m astonished at the ability for others to be so blithe about the horrors being perpetrated in our name.  I know I shouldn’t be because the world is so broken that most people have compassion-fatigue.

It’s just today.  I’ll gear up for the fight again, because what’s my alternative?  I can’t pretend that it’s all going to be okay if I don’t think about it.  This is a shared world and anyone’s attempt to decimate it ends where my breathable, eatable, livable world begins.  We need to feed off this Earth – I understand that, but we lose entirely if we don’t act with responsible, sustainable methods.

Maybe some corporate heads and politicians with power and wealth think they’re hastening a dubious ‘rapture’, but even were it true, they’d be among those ‘left behind’ by not being ‘good stewards of the Earth’.  Idiots all – but an idiot with explosives needs to be disarmed more swiftly than a genius should be.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.