Consequence

Consequence: (n) a result or effect of an action or condition

It is astounding that the Creator, along with Mother Nature, allows infirmity for those who have become wiser, and grants energy to the stupid.

When I was much younger, I had a “F.A.T. Me” philosophy. To put it in common, everyday, street lingo, it stands for: “Fucking Adjust To Me.”

I recognized that people did matter, traditions were in place, and even, to some extent, that the natural order of the Earth cycled in with purpose.

Yet if any of that contradicted my immediate desire, my attitude was “F.A.T. Me.”

It took many years of consequences–which refused to adjust to me–to finally conclude that pain was certainly worse than me evolving toward reason.

Now, what makes this interesting is that the transition I’m speaking of is not determined by age. God knows there are people in their seventies, even eighties, who funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
still think that everyone should “fucking adjust to them.”

They start out with a frown, then heave a deep sigh, hoping to scare you away from your objection, and then, if you persist, come with a full onslaught of incessant complaining.

If you give in, you are subject to the height and breadth of their insight.

If you decide you don’t want to battle the entire Earth, but instead, stand against their predilection, you will have to endure some really nasty attitude.

There are consequences that have been in place for so long that they are not impressed with the F.A.T. ME.

The sooner you realize that the Earth has been doing the Earth for so long that it pretty well knows what is “Earth-like,” then you can grow up–and be a successful Earthling.

 

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Bisexual

Bisexual: (n) possessing attributes of both male and female within oneself

Sitting in a coffeehouse when I was only sixteen years old, a long-haired young college student with a cerebral profile and an air of Dictionary Bself-importance asked me, “Are you bisexual?”

Innocently, from my Midwestern naiveté, I replied, “No. I would never pay for a woman.”

Surviving that gentleman’s laughter and growing up in a society where such terms became more prevalently spoken, I now know that “bisexual” refers to a willingness, openness, or even yearning to have sexual relationships with people of both genders.

The opinion on this possibility has changed, even in the gay community.

In the past, those who had a predilection toward sharing romantic interests with the same sex were often annoyed with the concept of bisexuality. And I suppose the case could be made that if you are born heterosexual, or born homosexual, where is the evidence that you could be born bisexual?

But setting aside the nonsense of conflict, let us go back to the purity of the definition: “possessing attributes of both male and female within oneself.”

I personally think that’s a positive.

Even men who insist their masculinity is incapable of being penetrated by any feminine aspect whatsoever will eventually sprout some sort of fear of an “icky-poo” or a threatening spider.

And women, who would appear to be the fairy dust of heaven and the dew on the morning rose, will fart at will, and pull off the most amazing physical feats.

Maybe in the sense of human sexuality there is a great depth of mutuality which we’re all just afraid to consider–because it might make us appear to be too weak or too strong.

I don’t know.

But I will advance the theory that when either men or women are sexually aroused, what has aroused them is not nearly as important as culminating the action.

So what can we learn?

If by bisexual you are referring only to physically desiring carnal pleasure with other people of either gender–well, I will leave that to your imagination.

But if by bisexual you might be inkling to the notion that men and women have more in common than difference, then I would say you have just made a sharp right turn … back to Eden.

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Appease

dictionary with letter A

Appease (v.): to make (someone) calm or less hostile by agreeing to their demands.

“There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end of it is destruction.”

That’s a damned strong proverb.

  • Why aren’t there things that seem to be right in our present thinking that don’t end up destroying us?
  • Why can’t we use reasoning power to discover paths of goodness instead of falling victim to ridiculous conclusions that render us devastated?
  • Is there nothing good in us?
  • Are we devoid of understanding unless divine intervention snatches us from the pit of delusion?

I don’t think God has given up on the human race. I hope humanism hasn’t given up on God. We just need to remember that appeasing certain aspects of iniquity and stupidity is to become entangled in a web of deceit.

So I have to ask myself, where am I vulnerable to such lunacy? Where does my desire to get along with everyone place me in the roll of victim instead of victor? How much collaboration is possible before it becomes dangerous compromise?

There are some things we cannot give up, even to appease:

1. No one is better than anyone else.

Any philosophy that tries to teach otherwise needs to be given the chance to change its position, and if not, needs to be abandoned.

2. Men and women are in this together, not as enemies, but as equals.

So even though many of my peers find it extremely humorous to joke about the battle between the sexes, ultimately there must be a peace treaty, or our race will never make progress.

3. Liberty and justice for all.

Especially for those I don’t agree with. Yes, I must caution my spirit to make sure that my preferences don’t cloud the common sense of granting freedom to my neighbors.

4. Lying is wrong.

Even when I do it.

And lying is the spreading of any untruth or misinformation, even if it seems to advance a good cause.

5. And finally, we are not alone and we’re also not helpless.

True spirituality is accepting the fact that there is a God–but He has entrusted us to do His earthly work.

If I find myself giving in to other people on these issues just so we can have a more pleasant conversation and not get indigestion over our Beef Wellington at dinner, then I stall civil liberties in favor of civility.

If you like sausage and onion on your pizza instead of mushrooms and broccoli, I will join you for one evening, munching on your predilection.

If you want to discuss your superiority over another race, religion or orientation…then be prepared for me to disagree.

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Ailey, Alvin

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Ailey, Alvin: (1931-89) U.S. dancer and  choreographer. He founded the Alvin Ailey Dance Theater in 1958 and helped to establish modern dance as an American art form, incorporating ballet, jazz and Afro-Caribbean idioms in his choreography.

Being a writer carries with it a certain amount of arrogance. There is the contention that one has something worthy to be said, and therefore read, and also the annoying predilection to associate everything you hear and see into your own spectrum of thinking.

Yes, it’s truly overbearing.

And when I came across this fine gentleman who was so progressive in the art of dance, because I lacked a lot of personal experience with his work, and fearing that merely taking a journey through Wikipedia to impress you with minor details would be presumptuous, if not comical, I decided to sit down and ask myself what I thought of dance. Realizing that this may be completely irrelevant to you, it is my connection with this journeyman’s craft.

As a lad I didn’t dance at all because my church believed that it was the devil’s two-step. One of the deacons in my congregation insisted that it led to lust. When I explained that at fifteen years of age, merely saying a girl’s name aloud could produce great fantasies and tremblings, he didn’t think I was funny.

So it was after I left home and began working in the music field, and decided to compose a Broadway show that, I began to think about choreography, movement and dance. Matter of fact, for my first production I hired a bunch of freelance musicians and singers to perform–all with an amateur status. Failing to realize that just because someone can sing a tune does not mean their feet will coordinate with each other, on our opening night, one critic deemed our staging and dancing to be “collisionography.”

Later on, I tried choreographing myself. Even though I am built more like a water buffalo than a graceful deer, I pranced around stage, learning my steps, acting as fluid as I possibly could, trying to discover my “center,” which ended up being very large because of my midriff.

But I enjoyed every minute of it.

I was thrilled with the audacity of daring to erupt in front of other people, while projecting emotion and ideas through the gyrations.

So when I look at the work of a man like Alvin Ailey, I realize that even though some folks think such shenanigans are evil, despicable or lascivious, life without movement–often purposeful–is bland and motionless.

Matter of fact, there are times when I have jobs to do and I choreograph every single endeavor to produce desirable results.

We come into this world, squeezing through a tiny opening, landing on our butts, learning to walk, so that hopefully … someday we can dance.