Constituency

Constituency: (n) a body of voters in a specified area who elect a representative to a legislative body.

Human beings are selfish.

Get over it.

Stop lamenting it.

Cease to selfishly object to the selfishness of others.

Once you come to the conclusion that human beings are selfish and it’s part of our DNA, then you can begin to use this selfishness for good instead of having it deteriorate into a bunch of callous, crude, rude and bigoted actions.

Politicians believe they have constituency–a group of people who believe in them and are at least willing to go to the voting booth to prove it. I see nothing funny wisdom on words that begin with a Cwrong with this as long as we don’t take the darker portions of the human race and play them up simply for the right to have a parking space on Capitol Hill.

The mission is about discovering how to take our selfishness and turn it into something positive for our own lives, and then, overjoyed to step away, we try to help other people have the same opportunity in their lives.

You can take every bible in the world, every religion, every class on etiquette, every political maneuver and every lecture from your parents and set them aside if they don’t take into consideration the selfishness with which each one of us is imbued.

The journey is about how we can turn our selfishness into mercy, gentleness and kindness because we’re so joyously goddamn happy.

 

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Commune

Commune: (n) a group of people living together and sharing possessions and responsibilities.

Many good ideas would work well if we could keep them out of human hands.

There’s something about the greasy palms of the human race that make noble intentions slip from our grasp and crash to the floor, breaking
into a million pieces.

I have been a guest at five communes in my lifetime. They all shared certain attributes:

  1. A discovery of a separate and simpler life so as not to have too many moving parts.
  2. A realization that it was important to share common values, goals, tastes in food, and entertainment preferences.
  3. For some reason, an emphasis on male dominance and female subservience was thrust to the forefront.
  4. Children in the commune were normally very well-behaved, but looked a bit as if they had just gone through shock treatments.
  5. Money was eschewed as meaningless except that the surroundings were so sparse of frills that it was obvious that someone in the commune was lusting for a Snickers bar.
  6. There was a fear in the air that they would be exposed as unhappy, so they were overly careful about what they said.

The reason communes don’t work is the same reason that half the marriages in the country end up in divorce: we don’t always clump well.

We are too intelligent, too independent and too selfish from our jungle roots to be totally trusted to evenly slice the loaf of bread among four souls.

 

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Choose

Choose: (v) to pick out, select or decide on a course of action

I could be kind or I could be mean. I can choose.

Being mean is touted. Being kind is lifted up as virtuous, as it is also mocked as valueless. Is there something in between? How about “keen?”

I could be alert, or I could be dull. It’s for me to choose. Alert is what we applaud and dull is what we observe.

I can be selfish, or look for opportunities to be giving. Is it true that if I give I actually get more, or is that just promotional talk from those who desperately need me to give?

I can choose to enjoy the holidays, or complain about how hectic they are. I do seem to be more grown-up when I bitch. Isn’t that ironic?

I can choose to believe in God, or don the garments of the intelligentsia and sneer at the notion. Do I really want to tie myself into a bunch of hillbilly religionists? Yet do I want to choose to be part of the obnoxiously over-educated?

I can insist I’m a man with no knowledge of women, or scream like a woman who says she is unfairly treated by a man. I suppose I could choose to be a man who understands that a woman is just a human. But it would be a very unpopular position.

That’s the problem. The things I feel I need to choose, which are full of spirit and life, are often relegated to being “buddied up” with the ridiculous and superstitious.

How will I choose?

Can I keep my choice to myself, or must my light shine before all men?

How will we choose?

How can we choose and satisfy the disgruntled masses, while pursuing the glory and advantage of simply believing there’s more?

 

 

 

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Chain Reaction

Chain reaction: (n) a series of events, each caused by the previous one.

I have never found a pear on an apple tree. This seems like a trivial statement. But you see, there are many things in nature which we accept
as true, but never apply them to our personal lives.

For example:

I’ve never received respect by being mean. Fear, perhaps–but never respect.

I’ve never been productive by being timid.

I’ve never achieved good romance by being selfish.

I’ve never acquired money by sitting on my treasure chest, guarding it from thieves.

Life is filled with chain reactions. It is not limited to the elements becoming compounds. It includes the ability to look inside yourself and see the fodder that fosters failure and call out the standards that salute success.

Life is a chain reaction.

I have boarded a bus in the middle of downtown America–a vehicle full of sullen, preoccupied people–greeted the bus driver with a smile, kindly addressed one or two people nearby, and in no time at all, a chain reaction went through the bus, and conversation ensued.

I am powerful.

You are powerful.

I can view my life as a catalyst for creativity, or I can become a whiny, cautionary voice of worry and concern. The choice is mine. But either way, there will be a chain reaction.

It’s not so much that if a bear farts in the woods of Minnesota, rain falls in Brazil–but rather, if a bear farts in the woods of Minnesota, is he conscientious enough to excuse himself so the squirrels don’t get cranky and have a bad day?

 

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Byword

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Byword: (n) expression summarizing characteristics

What do people think when they hear my name? That’s damn important.

Even though we try to play down the significance of public opinion, since none of us live an isolated existence, people’s idea of us are pretty important.

Am I so mixed up that those who know me find it difficult to pinpoint a continuing virtue or a clinging vice?

Am I constantly reinventing myself to such an extent that no one is sure what I treasure?

Even though we extol the value of choice, it is actually a blessing. Many times we get no choice. All we have is the overwhelming evidence of how we selected to be known, punctuated by countless irrefutable examples.

What is my byword?

  • Is it selfish?
  • Dull?
  • Is it aging?
  • Kind?
  • Indifferent?
  • Is it oblivious?
  • Gentle?

Each one of these words has attended a master class of achievement.

Frankly, no one assumes we’re oblivious–we have to prove it through our complete mental absence.

No one assumes we’re kind unless we have extended kindness.

No one insists we’re old unless we’re constantly complaining about our pains.

So here’s my advice: pick a profile and profile it daily.

 

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Boo-boo

Boo-boo: (n) a minor mistake.

I think maybe you’re a little confused.Dictionary B

It’s understandable since you don’t necessarily know all the rules that have been established by my thinking. Let’s clarify:

You make mistakes. I had a boo-boo.

You are inconsiderate. I just didn’t notice.

You are really late. I was unavoidably delayed in traffic.

You are selfish. I was unaware.

You are a sinner. I am a victim of circumstance.

You are a bigot. I just have more experience with those types of people.

You are a hater. I’m just trying to point out some grievous errors.

You cheat. I misunderstood the directions.

You’re a big, fat flirt. I’m friendly.

You are a religious fanatic. I just know the Bible.

You are a political idiot. I am pulsing the new trends.

You have really bad breath. I had pasta for lunch.

You are getting fat. I am finding my natural body weight.

You are ugly. I have classical features.

You seem to fail at everything you do. I’m looking for my niche.

Now, is this clear? Because I wouldn’t want you to go through the rest of your life confused.

 

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Aquamarine

dictionary with letter A

Aquamarine (n): a light bluish-green color.

This may sound very selfish, but one of the fringe benefits of the recent civil rights afforded to the gay community (aside from the fact that we live in a free country and it was basically inevitable once the belly-aching ceased) is that we no longer have to be threatened by other men saying “that’s gay.”

It has become a taboo.

It used to be a perpetual, common horror.

I remember many years ago when leisure suits were both leisurely and in fashion, I found one at a discount store, marked down, which happened to be my size. It was aquamarine.

You see, the problem was that even though it was a much more colorful era, certain hues were still looked upon as being suspect of your sexual orientation. Add to the fact that I was a piano player, and you had the makings of a San Francisco gay parade.

Not only did I get an occasional sneer and sidewise comment, like, “Nice color, big boy,” but I also began to envision that I was being stared at by the entire world, viewed as a “man lover.”

So paranoid was I that I started prancing around like John Wayne and using the deepest timbre my voice could muster. When wearing the aquamarine garment, I was always quick to point out that I was married and had fathered children from my own manly source.

It was crazy.

Finally, even though I loved the outfit, I purposefully “accidentally” forgot it at a motel. (What I mean is, I actually did forget it, but remembered it by the time I got to the elevator and decided not to go back for it.)

So somewhere in Yuma, Arizona, there is a big fat man wearing an aquamarine leisure suit … who obviously has much more confidence than I do.

 

 

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