Daffy

Daffy: (adj) silly, weak-minded, crazy

Looney Tunes.

There were four or five years in my life when I lived for them.

As I look back now, I realize how intricately these cartoons were constructed—how much money was put into the music—and also how cruel they truly were.

Very recently, I’ve noticed that there was some hidden racism in the relationship between Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck.

Daffy, black, was always trying to keep up with Bugs Bunny, though the rabbit seemed to have a charmed life and Daffy appeared to be born under the sign, “Please hit me.”

It made Daffy very angry.

So enraged was he that he plotted against Bugs—and the notorious bunny innocently looked on, as if he had no idea whatsoever why Daffy was so perturbed.

As a kid, I found myself rooting for the calm, easy-going “what’s up doc?”

On the other hand, I found the black duck to be inept, clumsy, arrogant and mean.

I’m sure that was not the goal of the cartoon makers.

But in an era when racism was rampant—not that different from today—the color distinction between the light gray and white Bugs and the black, almost Southern-talking Daffy, was pronounced, and dare I say, obvious.

On top of that, when you’re given a name like “Daffy,” it’s hard to overcome the profile in a five-and-a-half-minute cartoon.

So, oppressed by color, by the fact he was a duck, and that favoritism seemed to be given to the ever-extolled rabbit, Daffy found himself spending all his time frustrated, unable to get a life and be productive.

I’m always bewildered when someone is angry when another race complains about their status. They say:

“This is America, the land of opportunity–just go out and make a world for yourself.”

But as Daffy will tell you, sometimes that is difficult to do—when the Bunny is unmercifully “Bugs”-ing you.

 

Curt

Curt: (adj) rudely brief in speech or abrupt in manner.

“Shut up. And if you’re not speaking, get the hell out of my face.”

Every single day of my life I sit here writing these essays—pouring out words from my heart, tumbling from deep in my soul.

And what do you do? Damn it, you peruse them. Or if you do read them, you’re only interested in catching grammatical errors.

Screw you.

Yes. That’s what I said.

You and your horse you rode across the wilderness…or whatever that street lingo is.

I’m a sensitive fellow.

I am in need of affirmation.

Have you ever met an artist who isn’t? Even though it is extremely pretentious to refer to oneself as an artist, I shall do it on this occasion, just to make my much-needed point.

You think you’ve earned the right to be a critic instead of basking in the warmth, the tenderness and the glory of the progression of thoughts I offer, using words as the boxcars of my train of thoughts.

Now, could YOU have come up with that previous sentence?

Your response: “Well, I wouldn’t. It’s silly. It’s affected.”

Well, screw you.

I don’t need your appreciation.

I don’t care if you ever read another thing I ever write.

Go surf the Internet.

Be a beach boy looking for the best wave.

I don’t care.

Of course, I do—but I can’t let you know.

So I have decided the best path is to follow the entire mass of present society and appear to be angry and apathetic. Or is it apathetic and angry? Which one makes you mad and which one disconnects you from the mainstream of the motherboard of life?

So this may be my last posting—though probably not because I still have time left on my WordPress contract.

But if I didn’t, you would be without ME tomorrow. So what do you think about THAT?

Too curt for you?

(The preceding was only for dramatic effect. Any feelings hurt in the process of production were unintentional.)

 

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Cornerstone

Cornerstone: (n) a stone uniting two masonry walls at an intersection.

My children hate President Trump.

I suppose I could take a couple of paragraphs and try to explain the level of dissatisfaction that seems to trouble their souls but then I might funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
be promoting their rumors.

On the other hand, I live in a community where I often find myself surrounded by people who think President Trump hung the moon. (Well, probably didn’t hang the moon, but has acquired building rights on it.)

When I get around my children, they sometimes become convinced that I am a conservative Republican because I refuse to join them in their vendetta against the President. And when I meet up with old friends who were once hot sauce and have become milder over the years, they are a little fearful that I might be “too liberal” for them.

I am neither liberal nor conservative.

I find myself being the stone that the builders often reject. They look at me and say, “He’s too gentle. He’s too calm. He’s too accommodating. He’s too open. He’s too willing to share. He has no place in our plans for a cataclysmic conclusion.”

I do sometimes feel rejected.

I don’t hate the President of the United States. I don’t even wish to tell you whether I agree or disagree with him, since he personally has not asked my opinion.

I am not the kind of person who likes to hide behind rocks, spit at people when they walk by, and then run.

Likewise, I am despaired of joining clubs or organizations that refuse to change their rules or guidelines when the mercy of realization has made it clear that transformation and adjustment are in order.

Yet I take heart.

There is an old adage: “The stone the builders rejected becomes the cornerstone.”

Somewhere along the line, my angry children and my complacent old friends will meet each other once again and I will be there…to bridge the gap.


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Broom

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Broom: (n) a long-handled brush of bristles or twigs used for sweeping.

I know what a broom is.

I have seen one.Dictionary B

I could even identify one at a distance.

If sent into a large room to find it, I would be successful in no time at all.

Yet I really don’t know anything about a broom.

I’ve had one thrust in my direction with belligerent orders to “help clean up.” But I’ve always been a little bit of a loss as to what the correct process is in “brooming.”

I’ve seen people take short, brusque strokes–like they were angry at the floor or infuriated with the dirt.

Then I’ve seen people take long, easy passing with the broom, sweeping up the dirt gently in front of them.

There are brooms that work sideways.

There are brooms that work up and down.

(I guess that’s it.)

But I am a little embarrassed to admit that my “broomsmanship” has been lacking, partially because I’m lazy, but mostly because when I tried to use one, a nearby competitor (normally a female) would snatch it from my hands because I was failing to be reverent.

She’d demonstrate and then hand it back to me, and rapscallion that I am, I would realize that if I could simulate an additional failure, in no time at all she would insist I was incompetent and do the job herself.

It always worked.

I’m embarrassed to share it with you.

But I must be honest–I have no great stories about “brooming”–only being able to tell you that I can identify one.

 

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Aware

Aware: (n) having knowledge or perception of a situation or fact.dictionary with letter A

The reason most folks don’t get along with each other is that they expect other people to be nicer than they are.

We allow ourselves to be angry, frustrated, distant, preoccupied and nasty because we’re fully aware of our storyline.

Yet simultaneously, if someone else would dare to sample from the trough of our drivel, we would be highly critical–if not offended.

I became a much better person when I started allowing myself to be aware that human beings were never meant to be good.

This is why we give awards, medals of honor and trophies to those who occasionallly achieve such status. The rest of the time, the reaction we have to our fellow-travelers ranges from indifference to rolling our eyes in disgust.

Being aware is powerful. Sometimes we are…well, aware of it:

For instance, we will warn any sixteen-year-old child that the best way to be a good driver of a car is to be defensive.

When people stroll through a pasture, we tell them to “look where they walk.”

And when viewing a collection of reptiles, we heed the warnings of the caretakers who tell us to remain alert and keep our distance.

But inside every human being is a sense of self, tied up in knots of worry. To be aware of that knotting is to make you a friend of humankind instead of an enemy.

So unfortunately, the human tribe rarely thinks about God unless we need an answered prayer or confirmation of our righteous superiority.

We don’t think too much about helping out our neighbors unless we see their house floating down the street, propelled by the recent flood.

And we usually fail to let them enter the flow of traffic in front of us, for fear that the next light might turn red before we can pass through.

True spirituality is letting human beings be human, being aware of how that plays out … and still finding reasons to enjoy the good company.

 

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Antagonism

dictionary with letter A

Antagonism: (n.) active hostility or opposition.

We just can’t make up our minds.

Are human beings supposed to be angry or are we supposed to quell our feelings, disguising them as mellow cooperation?

We are confused.

Sometimes we criticize ourselves for having any temper whatsoever, while simultaneously applauding heroes in movies who take vengeance on their enemies.

Which one is it?

Honestly, the only way to deal with antagonism is to never allow it to get that far.

How does it digress? When we refuse to admit that we’re pissed off.

By the time we finish struggling over the validity of our feelings we are so exasperated, exhausted and infuriated that we pop off with something we shouldn’t say or do something beyond the pale.

If true spirituality were correctly imparted to believers, we would comprehend that the key to controlling our anger is releasing it in tiny doses as it rises to the surface.

As the Good Book tells us, we should not let the sun set on our anger. We should be angry and sin not. For after all, what generates sin is violence.

And the Good Book also tells us that we should never allow ourselves to ignore our apprehensions to the point that we start calling people names and destroying their reputation.

Antagonism is a social disease created by a civilized society caught between the reality of human frustration and the aspiration to keep peace and quiet.

As long as people shall dwell together, there will be conflict.

Having a healthy debate or even a livid argument is preferable to shooting a missile up someone’s backside.

 

 

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Abzug

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abzug: Bella (1920-98) U.S. politician, lawyer and women’s rights activist. She helped to found Women Strike for Peace in 1961. Serving in Congress as a Democrat from New York, she fought for the rights of women and the poor.

Sometimes progress is so slow that we actually fail to notice that it’s going on. It is the short-sighted part of the human race that often makes us unsuitable for either the jungle or the boardroom.

But when I thought about Bella Abzug, fond memories returned. She was not exactly what you would call an attractive woman. Generous folks would have referred to her as “handsome,” and less gratuitous comments could have included “homely.”

I am certainly glad she was not around for this 24-hour news cycle, where her appearance would have been ridiculed in an attempt to render her words ineffective. That’s what we do nowadays, you know. When we are unable to contradict the objections of an intelligent spirit which has stormed into our presence, we make the attacks personal so as to dismiss their effectiveness by pointing out their physical oddities.

No, I am sure Bella Abzug would have been joked about as the classic lesbian, or mocked as someone’s “ugly grandmother.”

Often it takes people like Bella to come along to plant the seeds of discontent in order for some weeds of frustration to grow up in the midst of our neat little “social garden,” and bring attention to the fact that not everybody is going to be a “cute tomato.”

We need her. We actually need MORE like her.

I, for one, am sick and tired of only listening to people I’m supposed to agree with, who make sure that their language is so sterile that it can neither offend nor instruct.

Bella said some tough things. Bella was brash. Bella was angry. Bella believed that anger was a good thing when it was vented against stupidity.

I don’t know if a Bella Abzug could exist in our present society. We would probably put her in a back office somewhere and make her the speechwriter for some blond bimbo who could more easily acquire the vote. I don’t know if we would ever allow her a microphone, a platform or an opportunity to spit fire in our faces.

But it’s because Bella Abzug lived that women today have the opportunity to argue about their positions and be heard–because so many years ago, she pointed out the fallacy in a system that was convinced of its infallibility.

Sometimes we need to stop and be grateful for the people who live, breathe, fight and die, never seeing their dreams come to fruition. Because of their plantings and hard work, the garden still has a chance to grow.

Because of their lives, we still have a chance to overcome our ignorance.