Hitler’s Jews are now Trump’s Mexicans

The script is old, but the strategy remains the same. Hitler manipulated the masses by making Jews the scapegoat for the woes of Germany. He created mass hysteria by blaming the Jews for destroying the German economy. Hate and vengeance were powerful elixirs used to unite the masses against a “fabricated common enemy”. It’s a technique the 1% have historically employed to take the focus off their hold on power as they covertly manipulate the system for their gain.

And today, we have Trump pulling a page from the same playbook but using undocumented immigrants as the targeted enemy. He claims that undocumented immigrants are stealing our jobs, robbing, killing, raping and destroying our economy (sound familiar). The technique remains the same, just the names of the “designate enemy” have changed.

At one time it was communism threatening our way of life. We were told that we needed to stop “them” in Korea before they arrived at our doorstep. Next came the cold war with Russia and then Vietnam and the domino theory. And who can forget the ruse regarding “Weapons of Mass Destruction”. The title of “designated enemy” has been penned on Blacks, Russians, Gays, Welfare recipients and Muslims The boogieman comes in all shapes and sizes. Hate mongering is the easiest and most sinister way to achieve power.

Trumps solution for dealing with Iraq is to bomb their oil fields and then invite Mobil and Shell to take over the operation. He stated that he’d use US troops to encircle and protect the oil companies interests. This sounds like a page torn from Hitlers book on diplomacy. He arrogantly disregarded the non aggression treaty and invaded Poland. He dehumanized the enemy to justify his unbridled aggression.

This “us against them” mentality allows the controlling minority to splinter the majority into squabbling factions. They manipulate the masses by creating friction between nationalities, races, creeds, religions and the social/monetary classes.

In the name of capitalism and short term profits the 1% shamelessly pillage and plunder the earths natural resources. Even though 97% of the science community agree that Climate Change is real, the carbon based industries continue to ignore their responsibility in this man made disaster. In the name of greed children die of starvation and disease even though there is available food and medicine. But there is no financial incentive for companies to distribute food and medicine to those in need. Pharmaceutical drugs are sold at inflated prices and remain out of the reach of sick patience while insurance companies record record profits.

There was a time in America when it was touted that if you worked hard and applied your gifts, talents and skills you would be able to earn a living wage. And, if you followed the rules and made sacrifices, you could own your own home, you could have access to health care, you could afford to send your children to college. Over the last thirty years the middle class has dramatically shrunk, and with it, the American Dream. The wealthy continue to get richer while the middle class evaporates. Who is going to stand up and fight for those who do not have a voice in our current system? “Spoiler alert”, this rhetorical question is to be addressed at the end of the article—-!!!

We are all a lot more alike than different. We all want the same things; a job that pays a living wage, a place to rest ones head and to call home, access to medical care, affordable education and training, a clean environment and a shot for the next generation to have a better life then we’ve had.

In its early implementation capitalism rewarded competition and innovation, but now that the money and power is only in a few hands, it has breed corruption and abuse of the system. Those who have money and power control the political agenda. The special interest groups and the privileged have the collateral to manipulate the system for their gain. Influence is for sell to highest bidder. And, no one knows this better than Trump and his cronies.

Trump and Hitler oversimplified the issues by blaming one segment of the population for all of our troubles. But we can no longer invade, occupy, bomb, kill, incarcerate and marginalize our problems out of existence. To solve our issues today there is a need for all of the stakeholders to have a voice in the process. This is a fundamental right that the Constitution and Bill of Rights intended to protect. But the balance of power has been compromised away from the majority and tipped in the direction of the controlling minority. Our hard won democracy has become a oligarchy. Our forefathers would shake their heads in disgust if they knew what had become of their noble experiment.

We need to move towards a system that rewards cooperation and collaboration. A system that requires those who have more to contribute more by paying their fair share of taxes. Tax loopholes for the rich and cooperate welfare needs to be exposed and eliminated. Campaign contributions need to be limited so that special interest groups and those with money and privilege are prevented from manipulating the system.

I am imploring you to stay involved in the political process and vote for those who give a voice to the working people and the middle classes. Don’t allow hate, fear and indifference to prevent you from demanding that the system serve all of its constituents.

I encourage you to take a look at Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren as representatives who champion the needs and rights of the working and the middle class.

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.”
― Elie Wiesel

You Have Your Freedom, I Got Goodbye

Wake my soul, shake my mind

She gave me her heart, but I hid mine

Believe, what you wanna believe

Now you’ve gone, but your ghost won’t leave

You got your freedom, I got my pride

I got empty bed and a bad goodbye

You took my heart, you took my soul

Where my heart once was, now there’s a hole

Can’t take back the words I never said

I can’t fall asleep in this empty bed

So, I got up, and wrote ya down this song

I can’t change the past now that it’s gone

I can’t unbreak a heart with a song

Radio leave me alone

What I took for love was just a loan

All your songs so sad but true

About loving somebody that don’t love you

You have this song, I got my pride

You have your freedom I got goodbye

(More original songs available at CDbaby.com).  My music projects range from country/folk to spoken word jazz.

The Coming Frost

th-2

 

Fire up that stogie and come sit down here next to me by the bonfire and I’ll tell ya a-lil story.  Now, pay no mind to them bullfrogs moaning down there by the river, just settle on in and have a pull off my bottle of Thunderbird.  Cause mister, if you ain’t got sompin burnin deep down in your belly, then this here story might up and leave ya all goose bumpy and squinty eyed.  Ya can have yourself one quick swig, but don’t get all cuddly with-er neither.

Disclaimer-this piece has a two beer minimum.  Don’t attempt to listen to this spoken word project until you’ve consumed at least two or more beers.  It won’t make a lick of sense to those sober, rational and/or conventional.  

This piece was co-written with Robert Finley, AKA Jhango.   He was my best drinking buddy, pool shooting pal, fellow night wanderer, purveyor of words and rhythms, a hell-ov-ah guitarist, and most importantly, a gifted teller of tales………we once shared a common key whole view to this crazy world…..

Yeah man, way back then we held the keys to the kingdom——-

 

 

Drunken Lullabies (Dedicated to Jack Kerouac)

Yesterday was Jack Kerouac’s birthday.  I wrote this jazz composition in his honor.

I hope you dig it——swing baby, swing!

img-jk-duotone

You Said You Loved Me (but I think you lied)

Soundtrack “You Said You Loved Me (but I think you lied)” by Victor Uriz

Lyric’s

In this valley where the sun burns hot

upon a levee we both once walked

you said you love me once I thought

I can’t forget the things you forgot

Now you’re nowhere around

made your future in some distant town

you said you loved me in some old letter I found

I tore it up and threw it on the ground

I remember how our bodies shook

your dress on the floor the way you looked

Smell of your perfume as your love I took

these things you did I guess I mistook

I remember how you said goodbye

your voice it quivered a tear in your eye

you kissed my lips and then you sighed

you said you loved me but I think you lied

Winter here’s the snow it flies

skies are gray, the sun has died

and from you ghost I try to hide

I kiss another lips but I still see your eye

God I hate this way I feel

god I miss the way you made me feel

they say all wounds time will heal

I hate you so much but I love you still

I remember how our bodies touched

how warm you were how soft it was

you whispered that you wanted me so much

and in these words I did trust

I remember how you said goodbye

your voice it quivered a tear in your eye

you kissed my lips and then you sighed

you said you loved me, but I think you lied

The Low Lands

When I think of my hometown, I think of that fertile Sacramento Valley, where in late August the smell of rotting peaches hangs heavy in the humid evening air. For a moment, I’m once again consumed by that helpless feeling that would rise up in me when the three rivers that snake through the low lands swelled and threaten to breach the levee’s.

They nicknamed my town the walled city, due to all the eroding levee’s that encircle the houses, churches and bars. When I close my eyes, I can smell the earthy scent of damp sediment carried by the Sacramento, Yuba and the Feather Rivers. The raindrops became puddles, the puddles became little streams and the streams a raging river.  The murky water slowly rose as it threatened to crest the river banks.

Every thirty years or so, the rivers would join forces and break the levee leaving the houses ransacked and the tired old town in shambles. The tenacious currents washed away the bridges, the trees and the accumulation of belongings that make up a man’s life.  And after the waters receded, the people stood expressionless on the ground where their homes had once anchored them to a sense of permanence.

Thinking back now, I’m not sure if the levee’s were there to keep the water out, or us in.  To this day, when I listen to the sound of rain falling outside my window, I never underestimate the power of a single raindrop.

It was here, that I first had my heart broke, but that’s another story……

Life is the Iliad, love but a Haiku===even the slowest of readers must sooner or later turn the page…..

Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.

–Theodore Roethke, The Stony Garden 7 MORE WORDS

Briar Lane

 

February is the heart of winter, here is my Valentine to the day, to the season.

Give it a listen.

Crossed Roads

This piece is dedicated to Robert Johnson who is credited with creating the blues.  Enough said, the  piece will detail the story behind how he acquired this gift, or as some might say—curse.  Give it a listen and tell me your thoughts on the project.  Thanks

FAKER (lessons in love)

Soundtrack, “Do What You Want, Be What You Are” by Hall & Oats

Lesson #1

Life goes on, with or without me. Fads come and go, hit songs become golden oldies, all my insecurities and self-conscious tendencies slip away leaving behind silent movie memories, like puddles evaporating in time—— seasons never end, they just change, a circle of revolving eternities….again I’ll wait for you to come round again—I’m no longer in a hurry, infinity is patient.

Lesson #2

I use to give a shit what people thought, but I’ve come to realize that everyone is so self-absorbed that no one gives a damn about anyone other than themselves—-just a cavalcade of egocentric, narcotic sons of a bitches———And they move through life as though everyone else is a hollow prop, a means to an end, a thing to be manipulated for their own good. Why is it so hard for us to see this life beyond our own selfish experiences and desires?

It’s not that far of a walk till dawn, until Mr Sun bumps his head up against that dogged horizon. Ya see, light can’t wait for time to give birth to another day. I awake to find that I’m still here, alive and ready to breathe. I”m not afraid, nor sorry, cause that’s just waisted time, let the sky creep towards blueness and let the dew sparkle like diamonds to decorate the glory of forever forgetting, rebirth brings amnesia——Who were you before this? I think I must have known you from some other place and time, maybe a lover, a brother, mother, my child, aren’t we all somehow connected? Fools are the bitter ones, dismissing miracles, failing to see the expression of god within stars and dust——the lucky ones grow closer to the day, to themselves, to others,——to what is…….

The bathroom mirror mocks me. I dip my chin and turn my head one way and then the other. “Here I am——this is who I am, what I’ve become through choice and consequence. As of late I’ve become keenly aware of my two selves. My private self and my public self. I’ve lived a divided existence, a chameleon, a shape shifter, camouflaging myself into an unchanging innocuous background. I’m struck by the notion of congruency.

Somewhere along the way I’d lost myself. I’d allowed myself to fracture into a million faux personalities. I did this to please others, to protect myself, to fit in, to avoid indiscretions, to appear normal, to simulate appropriateness——I’d been a faker, a fraud—-These days I’d rather be notorious than anonymous. Authenticity comes with a license to be free, to be crazily sane, to be who ever you choose to be!

Lesson #3

As I’ve grown older I’ve begun to allow my layered selves to coalesce into a unified me. Such a task requires practice, but at the end of the day it has liberated me. One of the blessings of aging is that it has stripped me of my vanities. I am who I am, no more pretending——the sky is the sky, my dog is my dog, life is life, what is “is” and so on and so forth….The simplest of ideas are the most difficult to grasp!

I’ve been thinking about friendships and it has occurred to me that my closest friends are the ones who allow me to be myself without pretension or expectation. They know me, they get me, and in spite of my faults, failures and foibles, they forgive me. Needless to say, these days I have fewer friends, but the ones I have help me become a better me.

To be understood is to be loved.  And to be lovable requires honestly and vulnerability.