Helping

THE STORY WENT "VIRAL", as it should have. During a world class soccer game, played before a crowd of one hundred thousand,a kitten staggered onto the field, panting with extreme thirst. A world class soccer player, and world class person, stopped the game, and gave the tiny creature water. The kitten seemed to regain strength immediately, and the player left the field and presented it to a stadium employee, with the admonition "please find it a good home. The employee is reported to have replied: "You already have". Indeed he alredy had. The star athlete named the kitten "Goal" and soon welcomed it into his home, permanently. The crowd, increasingly aware of what was happening, reacted with a roaring standing ovation. Maybe Goethe was correct when he said: "Noble be man, compassionate, and good." And also: "If thine own value thou would relish, the world with worth thou must embellish." The nobility and compassionate part is arguable, because it often seems that human behavior is motivated more by hatred than love, contempt, rather than compassion. But inarguable is that we human beings are capabple of transcending our least desirable traits, and reaching a higher level of awareness and action. Jesus, like many others, sets an example proving this and inspriing more of it. When William the Conquerer set foot and planted his flag on English soil, he declared, somewhat prematurely, that henceforth anyone who sets foot in "his" kingdom" would be a free person. Slavery, common among the Anglo-Saxons whom William II conquered, would be no more. He backed up what he said. After the American Civil War, it was written into the constitution that anyone born on American soil is automatically an American citizen. Noble be man, compassionate, and good. Any stray cat which enters my yard will be fed, and, cat willing, will be given a home, mine. I believe that in the past twelve years I have spent about fifty thousand dollars on stray cats. I "built" my house twenty years ago, and it took about eight years for stray cats to start appearing. I don't know what took them so long. They came, and keep coming, to the right place, as if word got out. The first one, whom I named "Mandi" after my favorite bar tender, is now more than twelve years old, and spends much of her time in my lap, as my legs cramp and my bladder fills. Others have come and gone, for various reasons. There was a male who left home probably becaue he preferred to find a new home to spending his days with a group of spayed females. One of my females left home probably because her spayng was an ordeal for her, she blamed it on me, and for several years after it happened she was fearful of me, even though she lived with me. I am certain that they found good homes, because they were both extremely cute, and, as we humans know all too well; cuteness counts. Several have been struck and killed by inattentive or malicious motorists. My solace is that I haven't moved, both of those who left home voluntarily knew where to go if they needed a good meal. The female returned once, the male never did. I wish them well. More recently one of my neighbors brought home two cute black females from the animal shelter, and one of them, a precious little angel with a chronic respiratory condition, expressed her preference to live with me. Whenever I put her outside for some fresh air and exercise, she returns to the front door within mere minutes. If I don't open the door sufficiently soon, she goes to my bedroom window, climbs the window screen, and hangs there, seemingly for as long as it takes. I cannot refuse her, have no intention to, and cannot imagine anyone else feeling any different. Proper medical care for her will soon add to my expenses. My hopes and plans to travel to Europe in retirement are on hold, and are probably vanishing with each bag of specially formulated high nutrition cat food. All virtue signaling aside, I will be content to visit Europe vicariously. My precious babies come first.

Helping, Or Not, In Trump's America

INDISPUTABLY, there is a great deal of wasteful spending within the federal budget. One might recall the five hundred dollar toilet seats which reared their ugly heads during, if memory serves, the Reagan administration. The Department of Defense leads the charge of recklessly throwing money around, at problems, as well as billionaires. We now turn our attention to "USAID", a primary agency through which economic assistance is channeled from the United States to the more poor world. We know that foreign aid constitutes less than one percent of the federal budget, and that it amounts to billions of dollars per year. And now we know that our prevaricating president has unilaterally ended USAID, just like that, by decree, without proper authority, with the evident support of congressional Republicans, but not Democrats. Trump's hot blonde spokesperson is a vast upgrade from Sarah Sanders, sight for sore eyes wise, and, arguably, no less capable of echoing Trump's lies with an impressively straight, unblemished face. She mentioned ceramics classes in Africa, funds for Irish folk dancing, and services for transgender folks. What she doesn't mention, what Trump doesn't mention, is the millions of lives which have already been saved by the vaccination and nutrition programs administerd by the agency. Also unmentioned is the reality that because of the demise of these programs, it is estimated that as many as eight million people will starve to death in the war torn, impoverished Sudan. Millions will die in other places as well, of disease and famine. Trump and the Republicans emphisize the wasteful spending, but not the starvation nor the epidemics prevented by American foreign aid. Elon Musk, who knows a thing or two about criminal organizations, if only by serving in the Trump administration, calls USAID "a criminal organization". Again, he's the expert. Takes one to know one, and so forth. The only thing "criminal" about American foreign aid are the people who are ending it. Is the United States a "Christian country" or not? It most certainly is not, neither by heritage nor behavior. It never has been. Ironically, the same people who insist that it is, namely, conservatives, cherry pick the wasteful spending as evidence that the baby should be thrown out with the bath water. They dug deep enough to find a few examples of unnecessary forms of assistance, and declare that the very idea of giving help to people in need is an entirely corrupt undertaking, which must be abolished. Gore Vidal, whose grandfather was the first United States Senator from the newly established state of Oklahoma in the early twentieth century, said of Senator Gore, who was a Republican: "He didn't believe in giving anything to anybody, ever". The late Senator's ideological descendants are now fully dislayed, as our modern Republicans find one excuse after another to stop helping...anybody. We have entered the era of conservative Republican governance. Like an increasingly popular T shirt proclaims: "We are being governed by morons". If not morons, pseudo Christians, Christians in name only. Render unto Caesar. Give unto the poor. Welcome the stranger. These fundamental precepts of the Christian faith will never be uttered nr enacted by our right wing extremist gangster leaders, who much prefer the harsh simplistic Ten Commandments to the Sermon On the Mount or the Beatitudes. If you pay close close attention, you will notice that Trump, his, his personal cult, and the Republican party will never ever be caught, dead or alive...helping anybody.

Coping, Somehow, With Hating Trump

FACEBOOK, for all its shortcomings and pitfalls, is blessed to host a large number of groups opposed to all things Trump, one of which, perhaps a bit hyperbolically, is named "Trump Will Be the Death of Our Country". Hyperbolic or not,I join them all. My sister astutely remarked, during the prevaricator-in-chief's first term, that the nation will survive Trump. True that. Indeed it did, and will yet again, but I responded, not witout some measure of merit, with a question: "Yes, it will, but in what condition?" It struck me, and still strikes me, that survival means individual as well as national survival, and I posted on the "Trump will be the death of our coutry" page, a partially rhetorical comment, which,roughly paraphrasing myself, went someting like: "I am looking for ways to deal in a healthy manner with my intense hatred of Trump." I typed it in large letters, which only added to the attention it received, which, in any event, would have been considerable. The responses and suggestions came pouring in, and I appreciate all of them, with sincere thanks. Someone, actually several someones, evidently ignoring my stipulation "healthy" suggested drugs and alcohol. Been there, done that. To quote Keith Richards: "I never got a flash from no cocktail"."Gummies", presumably of the marijuana laced kind, were a popular option. Well, maybe, but ingesting pot orally doesn't seem to do much for me, high wise. I'm a bong guy, as are, it seems, many of of fellow "Trump Will Be the Death of Our Country" countrymen. On the healthy side, one lady said that she exercies a lot, and meditates. Well, again, thanks to everyone for chipping in. Fact is, I have already tried every suggestion thus made long before thay were made, and still, no dice. My conclusion is that the only truly healthy way to deal with my hatred of Trump is...to simply feel it. Let it happen. Don't deny it. As we say, "let it out". As one of my friends adroitly said; "whatever is inside you must come out". I assume he was referring to emotional responses,rather than internal organs, which should never come out, or fecal matter, which must, at the risk of intestinal blockage. But the point is well taken; pent up emotions can lead to stress and anxiety, which in turn can lead to various mental and physical illnesses,ranging from schizophrenia to cardiovascular problems. At the end of the day, as we like to say, there is no solution to the bad health impact asociated with barboring hatred other than the most obvious, which of course is refraining from harboring it. As the Dhammapada says: "He beat me, he abused me, he defeated me, he robbed me. The hatred of those who harbor such thoughts is never appeased, but the hatred of those who do not harbor such thoughts is always appeased. And this is a law eternal." well, true enough. Nothing could be more obvious, nor wiser. I know full well that my mental and physical health will never be fully restored, nor the harmful effects assocated with negative emotions assauged, by using drugs, exercising, meditating, or anyt other prescription. There is only one way to stop harming one's self with hatred; stop the hatred. Never in my entire life did I ever have the faintest idea that I would ever come to hate anyone as much as I hate Donald Trump. I fantasize about his demise. I have loathed him for decades, ever since he started posing for front page pictures on the "National Enquirer" back in the day. My hatred of him grows by the day, and there seems to be no relenting of it. Perhaps there comes a time when the cancer has spread so widely that the metastasis is beyond control, and one can only acccept and somehow endure it. Such is my unrelenting hatred of Donald Trump. We change what we can, and endure what we must. Meanwhile, I am comdemned by my inherent nature to go right on hating Donald Trump. But it sure feels better to talk about it, even if nobody listens.

Still Going To Church

WE HAD TWELVE PEOPLE in the buiding Sunday, which for us was a good turn out. This includes the minister, the organist, the collection plate passer,and the "liturgist", a good friend of mine who sits near the minister and assists in the service, mainly by introducing the minister. The actual congregants usually number about five or six. The church has five formal members. I am not among them. Everybody counts. When we reach double digits, which we do not always, we're good to go. Liberal though I am, I, like people generally, am drawn to tradition, and I want our little congregation (Presbyterian) to continue to exist for another four years, so that, in 2028, we can celebrate two hundred years of continuous occupancy. The quaint brick church building was built in 1890. Before then, services were held in another building which no longer exists. But what counts for me is the continuous congregation for one hundred and ninety six years, and counting. I am bound, by my love of tradition, and determined to help usher in the third century of this historic entity. I have said before, and I still believe, that I will outlive this church, whose congregation has been steadily shrinking, like many congregations, for decades, and I am nearly seventy. I'd like to get hold of a list of all the ministers who have ever ministered there, if one exists. Our current minister is a "lay" minister", a retired attorney who gives a passably good sermon, altough he arguably spends a bit too much time and energy talking about himself in his sermons. (Imagine, an American, talking about himself). His remarks, however, are always appropriate. This past Sunday he talked about Jesus being a prophet elsewhere, but not in his home town, and saying so. Our minister was similarly, so he said, under appreciated in his smmall Iowa home town, so, he left, like Jesus. Altogether, I'm glad he did... All this, and I don't even like religion. It took a perfect storm to get me to attend church. First, the invitation, as a visitor. (Although I have been attending for nearly a year, I am not a member, and will never be, of any church. I would consider it inappropriate, and hypocritical, considering my general contempt for organized religion). I accepted the invitation, and decided to accept the offer of a free ride each Sunday morning. The donuts at the social gathering prior to the service, coffee and fellowship at nine A.M.,sealed the deal. I'm easy, it seems. The nine thirty worship service works well too; it lasts until ten fifteen, and we've just enough time for another donut and coffee fellowship in the lounge area before the lunch buffets begin at eleven. Perfect timing. Each Sunday after church I ride with the organist and his wife to a local restaurant for Sunady out-to-lunch. I by design never know in advance where we are going to eat. They do the driving, and no matter where we end up, its a pleasant surprise for me. I need to avoid lunch buffets, like most folks do, but easily cave to suggestions. Sometimes I end up taking most of my lunch home in a "doggie bag"; donuts before lunch can spoil one's appetite. Back home after being dropped off, I reflect on the pleasantness of the half day. I spend only a moment recalling Goethe's quote: "When I realized that everyone invents his own religion, I decided to invent mine."