Citizens Of Contrary Knowledge

Jesus, help me out here if you can? It's my understanding that you died for our sins, so that we may learn from your example. (Excuse me if I don't get it quite right. I wasn't born into your faith so I'm paraphrasing here). But that's essentially the idea, right? And then some stuff about loving your brother and doing unto others as you would have them do to you. All pretty good stuff I think I can get behind even if I wasn't born into your faith. But then as I understand it you...decided just last weekend to lend a hand and give a football team of "faith-based" (which I believe is a code word actually referring to your faith-based) followers the edge they needed to win the big game??? Now I certainly do not claim as a mere mortal here on this tiny speck of dust floating around in the infinite vastness of the universe you've had a hand in creating to have the slightest clue about God's grand design but I must admit that I do believe he (and therefore you) would be more interested in much larger matters than say a stupid football game built up mostly around the sinful and shallow interests that serve the false prophets of corporate greed. I mean am I way off base here? Jesus, I'm not sure but I think somewhere along the way your message has gone a fair bit astray from what I believe to have been your original intent, in the hands of many of your Earthly followers and I'm just wondering if it's about time that you do something down here, maybe of Biblical proportions, to help set the record straight. If you don't mind, would you please read my story below and tell me if I'm crazy or, if you don't think so, could you please do something fast because things are really kind of fucked up down here at the moment (Please forgive any foul language that may follow but I'm a little bit angry right now and it's just how I need to express myself). So there I am on Super Bowl Sunday not really giving a shit about the game for two reasons: 1. I haven't given a shit about sports for a long, long time simply because over the years it just got more and more difficult in my mind to justify the fact that one star player's salary from any professional sport could feed the entire population of a small starving third world country for a very long time. And the justification for that small gross national product-like salary is because Star Player X can...um, catch a football? hit a small, round white ball out of a baseball park? or perhaps slam dunk a slightly larger orange ball through a hoop? Please don't misunderstand me. Once upon a time, I cared very deeply for sports, but that was back when Willie Mays played for the Giants, Bart Starr was leading the Packers to Super Bowl victory, and Walt Frazier brought the '69 Knicks to the Championships. But you see, I never read in the papers back then that Vince Lombardi was renewing his contract for $70 Mil or that Wilt Chamberlain just signed a $50 million dollar Nike deal. You never used to hear any of that crap. And I never wanted to know anyway. All I ever cared about was how the team performed. Or my hero of a particular sport. In fact, I didn't even know who was playing in the game this year if you can believe that and no, I do not live in a cave without electricity or cell service. I just don't give a shit anymore. Haven't watched one game this year, or last or the one before that. Don't even have cable, just local stations. I like movies although so we watch DVDs. O.K. Yes, I did choose to become a musician in my teens, discovered sex, drugs and rock 'n roll and admittedly, this may have helped sway my early interests elsewhere but one can't be sure. And then... 2. On Sunday morning, I received a rather sobering phone call from my mother that my uncle (her only brother) had died the night before in a freak car accident in Florida and could I get down there for the funeral? A death in the family always serves as a big wake up call in one's life. This was no different for me. I called my brother in Colorado to tell him the news. He was in the process of setting up for a big Super Bowl party he was having that night. He does care about sports a whole lot and, as a life time die hard Colts fan, has been waiting for this moment since as far back as when Johnny U. was quarterback. This news didn't make for a great Super Bowl at his house either but nonetheless, we agreed that we would go to the funeral and he in turn did his best to enjoy the sweet smell of victory that followed for him. That is, right up until the post game show... For my part, we were watching a DVD of "Madagascar" that Sunday night with my two year-old daughter in the hopes she would fall asleep quickly so that we could do anything other than watch this movie AGAIN for the 50th time! When she finally did go to sleep, I said to my wife, 'Hey, why don't we put on the game. If nothing else, the commercials are kind of fun to watch.' So we clicked over just as Prince was saying goodbye. FUCK! I would have liked to have caught that show! Oh well, I heard he rocked. So we watched the game and it was actually pretty good. And with the pounding rain it reminded me of the old mudfests of yore where you couldn't tell one team from another. O.K. no mud but the weather was definitely a factor and that makes for good football. I have to admit I was kind of digging it. So we get to the end, the Colts win and my wife goes to bed. And my thoughts drift back to my uncle and all the stuff that brings up. Well, I wasn't tired so I decided to watch the post game show. There was all the usual pomp and circumstance. Confetti everywhere, fists of victory being thrust in the air, Colts fans going psycho. And then comes the presentation of the Vince Lombardi trophy. And here comes Jim Irsay, owner of the Colts, to accept the trophy on behalf of the team. And then Jim proceeds to tell me that the reason he's standing here tonight holding this glorious trophy is all because of his and the team's faith in you, Jesus. I mean the team worked really hard and all but the fact that they pray to you regularly and have followed in your footsteps faithfully I guess gave you a warm, fuzzy feeling so you decided to give them the prize??? Excuse me, Jesus but do you remember when Mr. Irsay told the people of Baltimore that he would never take the team out of their city and then proceeded to pack them up and slip away in the middle of the night without telling anyone? That sounds like...a lie. It sounds even a little sleazy. Does that sound like a very nice Christian thing to do??? Then Mr. Irsay hands the trophy to Coach Dungy and off HE goes thanking you profusely again for bringing this football team to victory. He then hands the trophy to Payton Manning, MVP of the game and he too tells me that this victory and his performance were all because of his faith in you. Jesus, this is the part where I have a little problem. You see right now we're at war in Iraq, in Afghanistan and thousands upon thousands of innocent people, including our own troops are dying in a war we should not be involved in. For our part, Jesus, our troops and our citizens are being told by our president, another devout follower of your faith, that this war is justified. (In fact he said that he confided in you and that you were cool with this war and told him so. Is that so?) That it is a war for freedom; freedom for the Iraqi people; freedom from terrorism. For their part, The Iraqi people and all of the "insurgents" fighting our well meaning troops, are being told by their religious leaders that their war is a holy war against the infidels, which means that their God, not your father, doesn't believe what you and your followers believe and, therefore, you and the Jews (whose God not being your dad either) are also at the root of the problem and should also be killed along with the occupying Americans, regardless of their faith. All are infidels so they must be killed. Jesus, again please excuse my total ignorance of God's grand design for the universe and I truly mean you no disrespect but is it me or if you do truly care for all of mankind and desire for all men and women to walk this Earth in peace, don't you think that, rather than helping a fucking football team win a pretty ring and a shiny little trophy to put on their mantle, perhaps your time would be better spent trying to put an end to this and all wars?; maybe try to work a little harder at convincing humanity that killing in yours or anyone else's name doesn't seem to be working after all these centuries and that maybe, just maybe the bosses of the BIG THREE families (you know, your dad, the Jewish God and Allah, I think Buddha's just chilling somewhere else) might get together and try to work out their differences because I just have to believe that you and the other families got a lot more pressing business out there than dividing up this tiny little speck of dust in our little corner of the universe into pieces and having each team duke it out to the death for eternity. It just doesn't go well with that "love thy brother" stuff. Know what I mean? I learned a lot of things that I never knew about my uncle, whom I hadn't gotten to see much over the years, at his funeral. I learned that in the second part of his life he really did a lot of wonderful things for his community (the congregation at his temple) and the community where he lived in Florida. He helped animals in need. In short, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense why God (not your dad, the other one) would choose to take someone back in this tragic, senseless way, who was doing so much for his fellow man. But again, I don't claim to know the big picture. Jesus, I guess what I'm saying here is if you were watching the game on Sunday (and after all it was the seventh day and everyone needs a break) and you did help the Colts like they say you did, I'm just putting it out there that I think you could do a bit more for mankind with your omnipotent power. I thought the Colts could have pulled it off all by themselves. What do you think? Thanks for listening. Sincerely, Mark Hermann What would we do? Imagine, if you will, that a foreign nation has deemed our country a threat to that nation’s security and vital interests. Because of that perceived threat, that nation fires bombs at targets inside our country intending to kill those they deem “evil doers”. Some of those bombs destroy schools full of children, hospitals, our neighborhoods, our homes, our livelihoods, …our families. What would we do? Would we want revenge? How far would we go to get it? Imagine, if you will, that that very same foreign nation has killed millions of people all around the world, including hundreds of thousands of innocent men, women, and children with all manner of weapons of mass destruction, including nuclear weapons. Would we consider them a peaceful people? Would we admire them? Would we despise them? Imagine, if you will, that that very nation who has used the ultimate terror of nuclear annihilation to gain immense power, and still maintains the largest arsenal of nuclear weapons in the world, has destroyed our country because of the threat that our country might develop ONE of those weapons. Would we consider that hypocritical? Would we greet them as liberators? Would we thank them for mending our evil ways? Imagine further that that nation which has invaded our country has told the rest of the world and its own people that it has no intentions of remaining in our country, yet is building 14 permanent military bases and an embassy that is a city in itself within our country. Would we trust them? Would we believe anything they had to say? What if that nation’s covert agencies assassinated democratically elected leaders of nations that did not support their interests and funded terrorists, death squads, and civil wars? If that nation had a history of human rights abuses, used torture, and imprisoned our people with no charges or access to due process, would we consider them the leader of the free world? That invading nation that has done all of those things, and worse, is our nation, the United States of America. We do not like to hear those things about ourselves, and many of us refuse to believe that they are indeed true. Many others find all manner of reason to justify what we have done and continue to do in our nation’s vital interests. But the American people themselves are a benevolent people who have spread much goodwill throughout the world and throughout our history as a nation. The rest of the world looked to America as a true beacon of hope. They came from every other nation in the world to this one to find a better life than the one they had. They did not hate us for our freedom. In fact, they did not hate us at all. They do hate our actions in this war, and they do hate George W. Bush. He and his policies have squandered all of that goodwill we Americans had spread across the world, along with the sympathy we received from every corner of the globe after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. This President’s arrogance and ignorance are willing to escalate this war and continue the cycle of violence, disregarding the advice of our most respected statesmen, the resolutions of Congress, and the will of the American people. The solution to our problems in Iraq and the entire Middle East will not be found in more violence, it will come through enlightenment, from teaching ourselves and the world a better way to resolve our conflicts and treat one another as human beings. We are in the midst of a battle with a culture that is at war with itself. Violence meets violence in retaliation for events that took place hundreds of years ago and continue to this day in a never-ending cycle of death. The thinking men of this world, the men of peace, have got to lead us away from this cycle. We must learn a better way of living. It is not the easy way. It is much easier to resort to violence than to struggle for peace, but our only way to win this war on terror is by leading the world to peace. If we face it head on with escalating violence, we will battle an endless supply of violence, hatred, and revenge. Death meeting death. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. We Americans are in a struggle of our own for freedom, and this may very well be our last opportunity to recapture the control of this government, the control that was ultimately meant to be ours but has systematically been seized from us. It is our responsibility to hold our representatives accountable to the will of the people. If we want an end to this war, we must force Congress to take the necessary measures to do so. Half measures and gestures will not placate us. Now is the time. We must call, write, and email our Representatives and Senators and tell them that we do not support an escalation, and we want a responsible exit strategy from this war in Iraq. If we truly desire peace, we must lead the world to peace. Chris Barczynski R.I.P. Mr. Brown On the morning after the insanity that is Christmas Day with a two-year old, I awoke and stumbled downstairs to make my coffee in an attempt to reach semi-consciousness, joining in that collective exhale that feels like the entire world decompressing from all of the holiday cheer. As always, I topped off my 8 oz. of rocket fuel with a lovely, foamed milk on top (we have one of those fancy-dancy espresso machines that is worth every fucking penny to a coffee junkie like myself). I then placed the cup on the table and made my way to the front door to get the paper. It was December 26th, my father’s 80th birthday. Wow. It was finally almost chilly, resembling an almost normal December morning in New York for a change. I grabbed my coffee and sat down, unfolding the paper when it hit me like a quiet left hook. ‘James Brown, Godfather Of Soul, dead at 73.’ I just sort of stared at the headline, not because he wasn’t of an age or state of health where this would come as a complete surprise but I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that this man was going to be doing the New Year’s Eve gig at B.B. King’s in New York this year at age 73 and I’m thinking this guy’s just too much, man. It said in the article that they would be having a public viewing of the body at The Apollo Theater in Harlem on Thursday, the 28th, before taking him to his final resting place in his adopted home of Augusta, Georgia, where they were going to do this all over again! And I’m thinking, ‘Man, this guy’s still working hard even after he’s dead.’ Well, for reasons I can’t quite explain, I walked out my door on that Thursday morning just before noon and wandered down to 125th Street to check it out for myself (oh yeah, I live in Harlem as it turns out). I wandered down Adam Clayton Powell Blvd., where folks were lining the street behind police barricades and immediately you got the sense that something big, something historic was going on. I wasn’t around in Harlem for Malcolm X or Martin Luther King’s assassination but it felt like that. As I rounded the corner onto 125th Street, I spotted the shiny lights on the new marquis of The Apollo, which read: “Rest In Peace Apollo Legend The Godfather Of Soul James Brown 1933-2006” I’m not exactly the star struck kind of guy, having toured the world and hung out with some pretty heavy hitters in rock ‘n roll and I really can’t deal with standing in long lines either for any event, having always been a part of the show, rather than the spectator. Further, I’ve never been a big fan of viewing dead bodies, celebrity or otherwise. But there I was walking between the barricades to join the line and wait my turn to pay my respects to a man I had decided was the equivalent to Martin Luther King for just about every musician alive today who ever played popular music, save perhaps for the purely classically trained who may simply lack the essential funk gene to understand James Brown. But if you play a musical instrument then James Brown probably taught you a thing or three about what you know, whether you know it or not. People were standing in line about five-wide about half the way back from the theater to Adam Clayton Powell Blvd. (about 100 yards) when I arrived. Across 125th Street from the Apollo, there were also barricades and a sea of people just watching the whole thing. They weren’t even in line to get in! There were camera crews on the rooftops across from the theater, helicopters hovering overhead, news vans with satellite dishes parked out front and reporters from varying media sources interviewing the folks in line about what they were doing here and what James Brown meant to them. There were people hawking James Brown tee shirts, folks with painted images of the Godfather they had brought from home, people trading stories of close encounters with the man as his music wafted out into the street from a variety of store fronts, one of which was advertising, " Men’s Suits for $59.99, Two for $99.00." This was a place you could find a purple suit, matching hat and purple alligator shoes to go with it, too. Or how about leopard skin? The whole thing was pure electricity. I had to keep reminding myself that we weren’t standing in line to see James Brown Live in concert. It was a heavily African-American crowd as might be expected for the funeral of the Godfather Of Soul in Harlem. And I was decidedly in the small white minority but none of this mattered. It merely underscored the theme that made James Brown the legendary figure he was: A total original whose music was meant for all. It cut across all color lines, all religious borders, as does all great music that resonates universally. After the first couple of hours moving nowhere on this cloudy, chilly day, I asked an older woman of color in braids standing next to me if she knew why we weren’t getting anywhere. (The event was originally advertised as from 11:00AM – 8:00PM). She explained that the casket was in a horse drawn hearse that would be coming from Al Sharpton’s headquarters on 145th Street and was to arrive around 2:00PM. I’m thinking, ‘Good God, what am I doing? This hasn’t even started yet.’ But we started to rap about music, about when she saw James Brown at the Apollo back in the day; about other greats; Sammy Davis Jr., Phyllis Hyman, how Sarah Vaughn was originally booed off the stage at the Apollo. How Dizzy Gillespie had a house around the corner from Louis Armstrong’s only home in Corona, Queens. I didn’t know that. I learned a lot on this day. Suddenly, there were cheers and a ground swell of applause coming from further down 125th Street to the East when I caught sight of the majestic white horses with plumes atop their proud heads pulling the white hearse that carried The Godfather to his final appearance at The Apollo. Everyone was snapping digital photos from their cell phones or cameras. James Brown had arrived! It seemed like an eternity from this moment until the line finally began to lurch forward toward the Apollo about five steps at a time in intervals of what seemed like twenty minutes each. So I decided that what I really needed to focus on was the total experience that I had, completely of my own choosing, felt I needed to be a part of. So I began to focus on the people around me, some very old, some obviously very poor; others dressed impeccably, some merely here at the right time and day on the calendar. There was a family of German tourists standing next to me with two young children. I couldn’t help but sympathize with these kids, who ended up standing in line for over five hours to view the body of someone they surely did not know and probably care anything about. I looked behind me to find that the line had now snaked around the corner and up Adam Clayton Powell. I’m thinking, ‘If I’ve been here since noon and gone about 50 feet, when are they getting in? They were only letting in about twenty people at a time and there were thousands! Meanwhile, there’s an equal line formed on the opposite side of the Apollo snaking back to Frederick Douglas Blvd! By now my feet were numb and a good four hours had passed. I was still a few feet from the “No Parking” sign that I decided was my home stretch to the front doors of the Apollo (about 20 yards). I was getting stiff, hungry, needed to piss and searching hard for reasons not to just bail. Of course, by then, you were so crammed in that you couldn’t escape if you wanted to. A man in a black silk wide brim hat called out, “We’re moving!” every time the line lunged forward another five feet. He became the MC. You needed some levity about now as patience was starting to wear thin with the cold and all the while my mind kept asking, ‘Why?’ We passed a tattoo stand that had an old rickety TV hung outside that was showing old James Brown footage and as we got within earshot, the whole crowd just started to undulate in sync as “Please, Please, Please” scratched its way out of the tiny speaker as if on cue but there was no one calling the cues. An old woman right in front of me who had to be close to 75 started with the neck twists and body swaying and was just groovin’ with moves I didn’t believe a woman that age knew how to do! The moment defied words. The music did the talking. James Brown was doing his thang. It was amazing! Then the celebs began to show up. Al Sharpton had arrived with the casket. Then Chaka Khan, Joe Frazier...Smokin’ Joe, man! I couldn’t help but think that when his day comes, he’ll have quite a send off as well. When finally I had inched my way after almost five long hours to where I had to look up to read the marquis of the Apollo, people started pushing and shoving while the cops ordered everyone to chill or get pulled out of line. We had to remind ourselves we were waiting to view a body, not rushing the stage. And then, finally it was my turn and there I was walking through those hallowed doors, standing single file in a line that was snaking its way through this legendary lobby turned temporarily into a funeral parlor, toward the inner theater. The unmistakable funky groove of “Sex Machine” came wafting out from inside the theater and I suddenly began to remember why I was so compelled to do this in the first place. I remembered hearing that skanky, funky guitar part for the first time when I was a teenager starting to play guitar and thinking, ‘I got to get that shit down under my fingers. I remember thinking how disciplined James Brown’s music was. Each instrument had their part and you didn’t change it. In clinical musical terms this is known as ostenato but a black musician would tell you, ‘That’s the funk. That’s the groove.’ You see, where I grew up in the suburbs of Connecticut, cats that had some chops and thought they were funky always seemed to play all sorts of crap that was never on the original record. And with each passing chorus they were changing the part again and again to show off everything they could play. Of course, none of this has anything to do with playing a groove or being funky. (We have a name for this among musicians; it’s called ‘White Boy Disease.’) A black man will tell you, ‘If it’s funky, don’t fuck with it.’ And somehow James Brown explained this to me in precise detail with every song, every totally original groove he created. And somehow I got it. I got the funk. I know they’ve referred to him all these years as The Godfather Of Soul and there’s no denying that. But this man invented the funk! He invented “A Brand New Bag.” Everything changed after James Brown arrived on the scene. As I entered inside to the theater, I immediately caught sight of the solid gold casket placed center stage, the very stage he came to own in his prime with the bright neon sign of The Apollo burning proudly behind him and I saw the man lying there in a fine blue satin sequin suit with those pointy shoes, wearing white gloves, the embodiment of everything that is show business in one man. And as I climbed onto that stage and made my way to the place I had waited so very long to reach that day, I gazed upon this man who has touched so many people throughout the world with his music, who lit a fire of pride under the African American community at a time of bleak hope in America and dared to say things in his music that many only wished they could say or were thinking; a man who stands as a shining example to all who dare to be original and who dare to dream, that you can achieve greatness if you’ve got what it takes and are willing to work hard enough. Nobody ever worked harder than James Brown. Nobody even comes close. And I thought about what it was that I needed to say so badly that it needed to be said in person because here I finally was. This was my audience with James Brown. And in those few seconds I stood before him, the only words that found their way to my lips were, “Thank you for the music, man.” And then I uttered the three words that humanity has recited since the beginning of time at the passing of a loved one. But never have those words carried more relevance than to this man: “Rest in Peace, James Brown,” I said. Rest now, you’ve done your work. By Mark Hermann a little humility... I’ve been a fucking hypocrite! Pardon my language. I know it’s awfully early in our introduction to one another to be using such expletives, but allow me to come clean about a few things right from the start. I’ve bitched, complained, and criticized other people for lying, concealing the truth, and not holding themselves responsible for their actions, decisions, and own happiness. I haven’t exactly led by example where those things are concerned. I haven’t put the proverbial, “walk to the talk,” as I remember Robert Blake as “Baretta” saying it when I sneaked onto the top of the stairs after bedtime as a kid to watch one of the shows too “grown-up” for me to see. I’ve done a lot of talking about what I think is wrong with a lot of things. I’ve stood on the all too familiar soap box and preached. I’ve frustrated family, friends, people in the crowds at my performances, and many ex-girlfriends with my ranting. I’ve managed to alienate quite a few people; some of whom I thought were friends, with my impassioned and vociferous views on politics, religion, ethics, philosophy, social issues, and human relationships. I’ve had an opinion about everything. Still do, I guess. Yet that opinion has changed over the years as I’ve gained more and more information. I haven’t always been consistent in that opinion. I guess in our times, that makes me a flip-flopper. But I’ve always thought that the definition of a fool was someone who, when given the truth, refuses to believe it. So, I guess I’ve also been a fool. Hell, some of the shit I’ve believed and the things I’ve done because of what I’ve believed could qualify me as mentally disabled, but I also know that I am surrounded by fools. We all are. Most of the very people we all look up to as leaders, teachers, preachers, and holders of truth and knowledge are fools as well. But considering where I’ve come from and the information I was given from the start, I’d say I’ve come lifetimes closer, within the life I‘ve already lived, to knowing what is true and what is complete bullshit. The things I was taught by my parents, teachers, preachers, government, idols, and friends, while given for the most part with love and good intentions, was basically compost, with randomly dispersed pearls buried within it. I’ve had to sift through, disseminate, and wash myself clean from some pretty heavy shit to get to those pearls, but mine has always been a journey in search of the truth. The truth about it all. I don’t really have an explanation as to why, but since the earliest recollections of my childhood, I’ve always felt it in the pains of my heart that I would have to find the truth on my own, on my own path, and for myself. If you are like me, you don’t want to get your advice from someone who hasn’t gone through what you are going through. You don’t want to be taught to do something by someone who can’t do it himself. You don’t want your preacher telling you to do something he isn’t willing to do. You won’t follow a man into battle who isn’t willing to fight and possibly die for the cause himself. You don’t want to be told how you are supposed to live your all too brief moment on this planet, as long as how you live it truly harms no one else. I say these things to begin from a place of humility and a level playing field of sorts. I have sinned in the eyes of the church of my upbringing. I have wronged others. I have lied, stolen, dishonored, coveted, not kept holy the Sabbath…all of it. I’ve not always played nicely with others. I’ve been a real………..human being. There are more than a few women in this world who, when asked about me, will have less than flattering things to say. I want to apologize to them, and say that I do take full responsibility for my actions and can only attribute them to an overdose of testosterone I ingested at 17 which lasted through my twenties…..with a few flashbacks into my thirties. I’ve also spent some time in prison. Not like Johnny Cash or James Brown...God bless him. There will be no movie about my hard time, but I did enough to know that it’s not a pretty place. Enough time to know the accommodations are lousy, and there aren’t a lot of nice people on either side of the bars. Enough time to know that I would rather die than have my freedom taken from me ever again for any amount of time spent behind bars like a caged animal. I guess you could say the system rehabilitated me in that regard. I say these things because I have seen this world from many vantage points. I’ve run with the herd, but prefer to run outside, blazing a path of my own. I’m the lone wolf with the abilities of a chameleon to blend into his surroundings long enough to get a good look around and even be considered, “one of us.” I am the life of the party on one occasion and the wallpaper on the next. I’ve been saddled by those who need to define me with countless labels, but not one of them truly fits. I refuse to be a stereotypical anything. I prefer to be an enigma. I prefer to live my life freely, to experience all I want to experience, and to be all I want to be. I will not be saddled and bridled, broken and ridden, fitted with blinders and led along the same monotonous path, day in and day out. That is not the life of my dreams. I say these things because I have witnessed a growing divide in our country- both within itself and with the rest of the world. Both divides have been fueled by fear, paranoia, misinformation, vengeance, greed, and religion. These divides have concerned me so deeply and passionately that I could no longer stand on the outside looking in and not act in some way to affect them. I could no longer remain silent. I could no longer allow my fears to silence me. That is why I have chosen to put my experience and my words to task. I will no longer allow myself to be a hypocrite. I will put the walk to the talk. I will put my life on the line for what I believe, because if you are not willing to do that, you should shut the hell up. I will lead by example. Hopefully, my lead will be one considered worthy of support, and I won’t run full speed into the raging battle without back up. But then not having back up has never kept me from doing what I thought was right, although it would be nice to know I’m not alone. In the immortal words of John Belushi in Animal House, “Who’s with me? Let’s do it!..." Chris Barczynski Oh Britney, Britney, Britney. Mommies with two babies do not go around showing the world their “Baby Makers”, at least not outside of a seedy redneck strip bar with a free happy hour buffet. I came from the kind of folks that put their babies on their laps while they drove, so I can let that one slide. We’re both white trash. Nothing you can really do about it. No matter how much money, fame, and culture we possess, proof of our white trash roots always shows up somehow. I could even understand the attraction to K-Fed. Every girl has to be in a relationship with a loser who spends her money and treats her like shit at some point in her life to appreciate what a good man really is. I don’t understand the choice to make babies with the guy, but since you told us to trust our President and support him in everything he does, I’m sure you don’t believe in birth control either. What was missing in your life Britney? What could a child having children possibly solve? You came to your senses early enough to avoid having more babies with that talented little bastard Kevin by divorcing him. Well done. But now the mommy of two decides to run around town with Paris Hilton, the self-annointed slut of the world, sans panties, showing off the Brazilians? Oops! I saw it again! It used to be a privilege to get a glimpse of a beautiful woman’s flower- the promised land- that fertile crescent reserved for the most noble, gallant, and worthy of knights. Now any little tweeker with a hand held (and one in hand) can lock himself in his room for hours upon hours enjoying this downloadable gift from the high tech gods. Is there nothing sacred anymore? Can absolutely nothing be left to our collective imagination? Although your “talent” is debatable, Britney, you have become a huge star and a role model to young girls all over America, including my nieces. Younger and younger girls are wearing more provocative clothing and make-up, dancing more suggestively, and growing up far too quickly for their own good. Stories of sexual exploration are now commonplace in our grade schools. I don’t want to see my brother have a heart attack because his 11 year old daughter showed up at school in her Catholic school miniskirt with no underwear to be like her idol Britney! Do not underestimate the power you have to influence the countless young girls who idolize you. My aforementioned brother and I nearly killed ourselves as kids trying to be like our idol Evel Knievel, launching our soon to be bloodied and broken bodies and beat up Schwinn’s through the air! You are a mother now, Britney. Time to show just a little class and self-respect. You can still have your fun, but leave the slutty behavior to the experts: Paris Hilton, Courtney Love, Lindsay Lohan, and Nichole Richie. They could never achieve the role model status that you have achieved. Years from now, when the likes of them are on the Surreal World, Where Are They Now?, and Celebrity Death Match, perhaps whichever one of the Bush twins becomes President will appoint you Ambassador to Iraq, and then you can show your flower as much as you want to our very appreciative troops. Chris Barczynski Reinstating the mandatory draft: The crawl across the top of my computer screen today somehow brought the state of our nation into disturbing focus. Defense contractors Lockheed Martin and Raytheon both enjoying a substantial rise in third quarter profits, Exxon posting the second highest quarterly profit in history, and the monthly death toll in Iraq is the worst in a year. We are constantly reminded that we are at war, yet whom, other than the brave men and women who make up our volunteer military and their families, is asked to sacrifice? Our grandparents rationed gasoline, collected old tires and scrap metal, and did whatever they could do to contribute something to the war effort. Our grandmothers worked in factories while our grandfathers were fighting and dying. What have we been asked to do? Our President tells us that this is a battle for freedom and democracy and every bit as significant as the wars against Nazism and Fascism, yet all he has asked of the American people is that we continue to shop…and give him absolute trust that he knows best…and unprecedented (and un-Constitutional) power to wage this war. Perhaps reinstating the draft would make people think long and hard about what is worth fighting and possibly dying for. As long as someone else’s son or daughter is doing the dirty work, we can feel better about ourselves driving our gas-guzzling SUV’s with a “Support The Troops” ribbon on the back. Exactly how are you supporting the troops by driving a vehicle that gets 12 miles to the gallon? Companies like Halliburton are robbing the country blind with no bid contracts, unsubstantiated charges, and “cost-plus” billing; all to the delight of their shareholders and to the detriment of our troops. What they are doing is nothing short of Treason. Where is the outrage? Where is the protest? Where is the conscience of this nation? Again, perhaps those things might be visible if we had a mandatory draft. Think what you will about the policies of Israel, but the people of Israel, and several other nations around the world for that matter, are all called to the service of their country. Perhaps the American people would be more concerned about our nation’s actions around the world if there was a chance each of us may be asked to fight and possibly die for them. Perhaps we would be more involved in our political process and our nation’s foreign policy, more selective about the people with whom we entrust our leadership roles, and more demanding that we be given the truth. It seems that the only lesson this nation took away from the tragedy that was the Vietnam War was to do away with the draft. The unprecedented outrage and protest of that war was directly attributed to the draft. Those in power knew that limiting dissent for an unjust war would require ending the draft. It has proven to be so. When Eisenhower warned the American people upon leaving the office of President about the dangers of the Military-Industrial Complex, it is doubtful that even he could have predicted the depths to which it has taken this nation. It is sad to say, and even more sad to have the thought be reinforced on a daily basis, that the American people don’t care about anything until it affects them personally. Empathy and sympathy and compassion have become trite. We turn a blind eye to genocide, starvation, torture, epidemic disease, and the tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of civilians killed in this war. We allow our nation to spend nearly half a trillion dollars every year on defense, and we have mortgaged the future of our grandchildren’s grandchildren to wage war in Iraq and beyond. I love this country, and I come from a family steeped in service to it. My grandfather, seven uncles, a great-uncle who was killed in action in WWII, several cousins, and my brother all served, and they did it because they love this country as well. The men and women in our military love this country and are currently risking their lives for what we now know to be, at the very least, suspect reasoning and, at worst, to be outright lies. I know that reinstating the draft is an extremely unpopular idea, but I think it may be the only thing that could save this country from those who think war is good business. Chris Barczynski
See the world!! My girlfriend asked me about a year ago, “If you could take a trip anywhere in the world, where would it be?” I told her that it’s been a dream of mine since I was a child to visit Italy. She surprised me on our second anniversary in July with the incredible news that we would be going to Italy to celebrate my birthday. We fly to Rome tomorrow. I am by no means a world traveler. Other than seeing Cancun in Mexico, Niagara Falls from the Canadian side, and living 10 months in England in my college years, I’ve been so wrapped up in trying to make something of myself here in America that I haven’t seen the rest of the world. My experience as a stranger in the strange land of England had opened my eyes about many things I’d been taught and believed as true and was one of the greatest experiences of my life. This trip to Italy will be a welcomed addition to my limited knowledge of what it’s really like outside of America. Besides seeing things firsthand that I’ve only ever seen in books, I’ll be getting a different perspective of the world, and especially a different perspective of America. I search for truth always, and I know that it only comes from examining all perspectives. We are the only nation in the world that tells every other nation that we are the greatest. We are certainly not in short supply of people waiving our flag and telling us that we should be grateful that we live here because it is the greatest country in the world. In many ways it is. But so many of those people who yell the loudest have never been outside of the U.S. How can one say that something is the best if you’ve never seen the others? Many of those people have never traveled to the countries of this world that provide health care for all of their citizens, or the ones who pay for a woman to take maternity leave and raise her child, provide day care and guarantee she’ll have her job when she returns. They haven’t traveled to the countries that provide every citizen the opportunity to go to college without regard to income. They haven’t been to the countries that refuse to squander the resources of the nation on military spending and war. They haven’t been to the countries that require every car to get 40 MPG or more. They haven’t been to countries that realize that Global Warming needs to be addressed immediately. I certainly understand that not everyone has the means or the opportunity to travel to other countries, but we don't have to leave America to say that if something can be done in another country it most certainly can be done in the United States of America. The American people desperately need a change of perspective. There are other cultures of this world who have been around for far more than 230 years. They’ve had their wars, made their mistakes, mended their ways. They have some clever ideas on how we should care for one another as human brothers. We can learn from them, and them from us, but not if we build walls around this nation. Not if we refuse to listen to reason and examine all solutions. Not if we stay the course. This is a great nation, and great nations do great things. We aren’t doing great things, and since “winning” the Cold War, we have gotten gluttonous, arrogant, ambivalent, and lazy. We hide behind the achievements of those before us who sacrificed, struggled, and built this country into a great nation. It is time to stand up and do great things. We can finally stand before the rest of the world and truly be what we say we are. We can take back the power of our democracy. We can stop this war. We can end the genocide in Darfur. We can put an end to starvation, malnutrition, and hunger. We can address Global Warming and the AIDS epidemic. We can provide health care for all. We can educate every child through college. We can live up to our ideal that every man is endowed with the same right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness- not just Americans. We can do what great nations do. Lead. Chris Barczynski p.s. In the event of a water landing, I hope this lets you know where I stood. Peace.
Machismo There is no one type of leader nor style of leadership that works in the resolution of every issue. And we can never trust one leader, one man to make every decision. No one is that brilliant a decision maker. History will bear that out. Even our most respected leaders throughout history have made poor decisions, but the best of them realized their mistakes and learned from them and corrected them. That is why we do not have a king, and why we entrust the roles of leadership to many different kinds of leaders. When it is an armed conflict that we have no choice but to enter, we want a leader who’s only focus is on winning that battle as quickly as possible with as little casualties as possible. Period. When it is the choice of entering that battle in the first place, we want a leader who’s focus is on avoiding as much conflict, destruction, bloodshed, and death as possible. There is no disgrace in avoiding conflict! This machismo idea that it shows weakness to avoid conflict has worn itself out. This focus on flexing our muscle and the will of this nation is going to provoke a fight we are not prepared to handle, if it hasn’t already. You can only be the bully so long before someone comes out of your bullying past and blindsides you. I know we like to think of ourselves as the overprotective big brother type, only showing the rest of the world how much we love them by kicking the shit out of any guy who looks at our sister, but the fact is, our military presence is established all over the world protecting our interests and not the rest of the world. At worst, we are seen by much of the world as a far greater threat to peace than those we’ve deemed evil and the biggest threats. Our actions say one irrefutable thing to the rest of the world: an American life is worth more than their own. It is time for American leaders who understand that the world is a complex place and the use of military force should be used only when necessary and as a true last resort, done with the support of the world community, and should be as Colin Powell said, “overwhelming” to complete the task with as little conflict, bloodshed, death, and destruction as possible. Putting a “boot up their ass” is not a legitimate foreign policy. Not every problem can be resolved with force, as we are becoming painfully aware of as a nation. Not every problem is black and white or cut and dry. Our only choices aren’t stay the course or cut and run. “You are either with us or against us” is both arrogant and shortsighted. There were a few voices of leadership before this war who knew that we would be exactly where we are right now with respect to Iraq, and that is because they are students of history and of the world’s politics and understand the forces affecting the peoples of the world. Unfortunately we continue to hear from the same hawkish voices who had determined our policies in Vietnam. Our nation’s policies in the past have directly contributed to our troubles now. We have sold the very weapons, materials, and technology that have killed countless in the Middle East and are now being used to kill our own soldiers. The long standing and crass joke in Washington has been, “We know they have weapons of mass destruction. We still have the receipts!” We have supported many unpopular and non-democratically elected leaders in this world including the Shah of Iran and Saddam with money, intelligence, and weapons, throwing fuel into previous wars in the Middle East. The people of the Middle East are all too aware of these facts, and they do not forget history as quickly as Americans do. Vengeance has become generational and a way of life for far too many people in the region. It is time to discuss honestly what we’ve done to contribute to this grave situation in the Middle East and what must be done to end it with as little conflict, bloodshed, death and destruction as possible, irrespective of politics and saving face. Is the American public so passive and apathetic that we have allowed those very few in power to spoon feed us our information so that we don’t take the time to find the truth? Are we so arrogant that we don’t care? Are we too proud to admit our mistakes and correct them that we will continue to make them over and over again? We all know the kind of person who does not learn from his mistakes and continues making them again and again has a sad, drama filled, unfulfilling, and often very tragic life. Why should our nation be any different? Chris Barczynski
The return of O.J. So last week. I'm in Rome, Italy. It's been three days since I've understood a word anyone has said to me. Weed and trying to learn a foreign language in two days before you leave for the place where they actually grow up learning it.....like it was English or something.....not highly recommended if you'd like to avoid getting hit by a bus...a car...a swarm of motorbikes like the fucking monkeys in the Wizard of Oz....coming off that damned mountain and grabbing the Scarecrow and beating him and jumping on him and pulling the straw out of him.....so much straw....nothing but straw.................man, I had nightmares about that shit as a kid! Anyway. I pay 3 Euro, about $3.42-$4.00 depending where you change your money, for a 2 day old, 6 page version of USA Today because it was the only paper in English, and after standing in amazement for a long moment at paying that much for the lousy newspaper, I see fucking O.J. Simpson on the cover with the caption, "What if I'd done it?" I got physically ill. It disturbed me to the core. I didn't require reading anything more about it. I knew where it was going from there. Man, you did those brutal things to those people? You lied and bought your way to freedom because that's how rich white criminals have always done it, and if you were POOR you would never have been heard from again? You don't stand up like a man and take responsibility for what you've done? You wait until there's someone sleazy enough to see that it's been long enough, that the time is right, the planets are aligned perfectly to print your book, make your movie, book your T.V. interview(s), and sell the action figures for the kids to re-enact the event, to make a huge profit off of feeding the public a heaping portion of succulent and euphoric distraction? Orethal James, enjoy whatever sunlight you have left in this life, because when you leave it, your soul goes to a place that is dark and quiet and alone. Wouldn't that be the perfect Hell for someone who craves such attention? Man, to run like O.J. ....admittedly one of my childhood dreams. If I could be anything other than a singer in a rock band, I'd want to be that fast. Fast like O.J. was. All those fantasies left me in an instant when I saw that newspaper headline. I wouldn't want to be anything like O.J. No matter how much more famous I might be. Thank God I still have Walter Payton and Gayle Sayers to look up to (I'm just a little taller than Barry Sanders. So technically I would look down to him...looking toward nonetheless)! I can't really blame people for eating this up. I understand it. It's devious and brilliant. It makes me wonder if Karl Rove has a meaty little hand in it. It's forbidden to taste, making it more desirable. Oh my God, that is just revolting what he is doing.........now, when's it on OPRAH? Don't let me stand in your way of getting your O.J. fix. I know it's been a while. It's kind of like cocaine making a comeback. But then I always passed on the coke, and I'll pass on giving Orethal James Simpson one more drop of my attention. Peace, Chris Barczynski Citizen Mark here, guitar player with the band. Wow. OJ Simpson...AGAIN? I figured the true decline of Western civilization skidded to rock bottom right about the time Jerry Springer and Geraldo were slinging their version of trash TV at the screens of the collective bulging, sweaty, and smelly underbelly that is the American proletariat and watching their ratings soar as America gobbled this crap up. I mean, I just could not fathom reaching much further into the toilet of our collective consciousness to pull out such intriguing topics of public interest as say, 'Moms who fuck their daughters' boyfriends, have children by them and then seek child support.' (And we’re not talking about some Desperate Housewives sultry affairs here. More like Bertha, from the donut shop at the Eau Claire Wal-Mart fucking Darryl, the Pet Smart delivery guy in the back of his truck). And the follow up show would be something like, 'Estranged husbands who learned of their wives' affairs with daughters' boyfriends and the various ways they would murder their spouses...Their death row story after this...' COMMERCIAL BREAK: "If you, or someone you know has bludgeoned, maimed or murdered a spouse under similar duress, please call in or send us a post card to...'I killed the bitch' c/o Jerry Springer..." and other such assorted gems. That was it for me, man. I figured at this point we had finally devolved back to that slimy, amphibious thing with flapper feet who finds itself crawling backward across the mud and into the pond scum, shaking his head the whole time thinking, ‘How did I get here again?’ And then, on the eighth day, God created... Reality TV. Let's just fast forward right past all the "Survivor" incarnations, "Ozzbournes", "Fear Factors" and every other fucking "Reality" TV show that has served to substitute so very inadequately for actual creative original content (but is so much cheaper to produce, sorry there I go again) and get to the latest wad of cud for all the world to chew on. Orethal James Simpson...OJ...Juice, remember that? Since my colleague, Chris so aptly framed his outrage to this latest 'coming out of the closet with all skeletons in plain view' party in our last blog entry, I'll spare you my diatribe (well, at least some of it). Let’s forget for a moment that Rupert Murdoch put the brakes on the OJ interview and the subsequent book deal at the eleventh hour after a tremendous outpouring of negative feedback from the public. Forget that because Fox actually entered into a contract to carry the interview, they still have to pay this pile of shit even though they shelved it, through some third party management company that obviously protects the proceeds from going to the families who won the civil case for $30 Mil in punitive damages, . Just what the fuck were you thinking, Rupert??!! Are we, as a society, saying that we’ve actually sunk down to the level where we are so totally malnourished, desensitized and starving, culturally, for anything of substance that is stimulating from the media that the fix we really crave is to provide an audience to a convicted (civil case) murderer who walks the earth a free man (at least in this life) while two people lie dead, brutally murdered with families and friends that will grieve for them for the rest of their days and allow this coward (only because he happens to have once upon a time been known to the world as a fine athlete and a lousy actor) a forum to exorcise his demons in front of the camera while he shamelessly attempts to refill his coffers and STILL shirk his civic debt? Well, if the answer is yes then I say, all right...OK, you asked for it, America. Let’s put some REAL fucking reality into “Reality TV,” you know? Let’s ‘Kick it up a few notches’ to quote my favorite obnoxious TV chef, Emiril Legasi. C’mon what do you say? You ready? I have several juicy show treatments I’d like to present to TV producers for their consideration. Take a look at my first example if you have the stomach. Then write us and give us your own ideas for the next level of Reality TV. (WARNING: What follows is quite sick, twisted and not for the faint of heart!) Treatment #1: “FEAR FACTOR”-BHAGDAD SUICIDE BOMBING CLEANUP UNIT Contestants will be flown to a secure location in or around Bhagdad, imbedded with special military forces and await their assignment. They will be close enough to the action to hear actual gunfire, mortar rounds exploding. Their hearts pound. The dust is thick. The fear is palpable. The tension; unbearable. Then the radio cracks: a suicide bomber has struck at a crowded marketplace not too far away. There are multiple casualties, chaos. Upon notification that location is secure, contestants are loaded into a humvee that speeds them right into the center of the mayhem. They are ordered out of the vehicle. Blood is everywhere. Body parts are scattered all around them. The Assignment: Contestants are given a body part to begin (say, a hand or torso) They have five minutes to collect as many body parts and human remains as they can with the goal of reassembling an actual person with all their correct parts. While identification will be difficult, forensic scientists will be on hand to check the work. Military personnel will be assigned to each contestant, armed with smelling salts and cleaning materials for vomit detail. Time is contiguous. No time outs. At the end of five minutes, contestants will be asked to step aside (or faint) and allow forensics to tally the score. Judging is as follows: Each body part matching the correct individual: 5 points Incorrect biological match but anatomically correct body part placement: 3 points Incorrect anatomically but biologically correct body part placement: 1 point Completely reassembled corpse, anatomically correct regardless of biological accuracy: additional 25 points Grand Prize: Winning contestant will take home $250,000 in cash and a three month-all expenses paid vacation for two to the destination of their choosing. Runner-Up Prize: Runner up will receive honorary induction into special military forces and remain imbedded with troops on special assignment for one year with complete military compensation and benefits commensurate with PFC status. All contestants shall receive six months free post traumatic stress treatment and debriefing at a top military facility along with a video tape of their performance to take home. Surely, this has got Emmy written all over it! Sincerely, Mark Hermann / Citizens Of Contrary Knowledge
September Song There's something about September that always seems to produce the same bittersweet emotion in me with every passing year; bitter I suppose in that Summer's ending (not by the calendar date but by the passing of Labor Day weekend, which always served as Summer's parting shot) and sweet perhaps in the knowing that Autumn in New York is truly the greatest. No more humidity! Hasta la vista, August...Sweet! No more smokin' New York women flitting about in low rise jeans and halter tops...bitter. Cool, crystal clear days. The changing leaves. It rocks! And yeah, there's probably something deeply encoded in all of us that remembers the whole back to school thing and all those memories of new classes with new teachers. I remember getting new rust-colored cordouroys. I hated rust! For the band this time around, September means back to the studio, the place we love to be; making new music! We've already begun digging into our new bag of tunes and putting down tracks. We're very psyched and can't wait for y'all to hear it. And for anyone who doesn't know it yet, we finished the first new song, "califorNYa," which as a special thank you to our fans we have put up for a limited period as a free download so you can check it out. We had our buddy, Paul Umbach (Nine Days, Jive Records), mix the track for us and he just did an awesome job. Hats off to you,Paul! If you haven't heard the song, check it out at: http://www.citizensofcontraryknowledge.com/californya We just came off of a Monday night residency at Arlene's Grocery last month that was a blast! I think it did wonders for the band and our fans got to watch us stretch out on some of our new material. We'd like to give a big shout out to our friends in Z02 for making that happen for us. They're an awesome band and they have an even more amazing attitude about building a true rock 'n roll community that they truly live by. We're proud to be a part of their scene and just as proud to have them in ours. At the moment Breeze, our fearless front man, is off in La la land filming the second season of "The Singing Bee" for NBC. It's amazing what that exposure has done for the band already. Lots of new friends and a lot of CDs sold! Hey, if watching karaoke on TV leads folks to seek out our original music, more power to the people. We miss him but we've got plenty of recording to do while he's gone so we'll be very busy in September. And September has proven to be a great surprise month for Citizens as well. We have some great news we want to share with you but we're going to wait until it's official...stay tuned. All in all this September has been far more sweet than bitter. So go ahead and break out that cool, funky leather you've been waiting to strut around in. We salute you. Octoberfest beers are just around the corner. The striped bass are running again! And hey, if you know where to find a pair of those rust colored cordouroys, let me know. I found a cool jacket to go with them on stage. Peace, Mark Hermann
Coming from a man whose entire life has been a quest for enlightenment and an all out battle within myself to overcome my own fears; I can say one thing with absolute confidence. If your actions in your life are not motivated by love, you are doing it wrong. Author David Deida, in his book, “The Way of the Superior Man,” states this point quite eloquently when he says, “If your purpose (in life) is to liberate yourself and others into love and freedom, then you should do whatever magnifies the love and freedom in your life and in the lives of whom your actions affect.” The same can be said of our actions as groups of people: as school boards, towns, political parties, churches, and nations. Quite frankly, if our policies as a nation are not motivated by love, we are doing it wrong! I find it maddening that we honor every man who ever said these same words; men like Jesus, Buddha, Martin Luther King, Jr., Ghandi, John Lennon, the Dali Lama, Desmond Tutu, the Pope, and countless others, yet we do not truly honor them with our actions. We call them naïve, or worse: Liberal! We say things like, “sure it would be nice if everyone just loved one another and lived in peace, but this is the REAL world.” Some in this country wish to label it as a Christian nation, founded upon Christian ideals. Without addressing the issue of separation of church and state, would not a Christian nation take care of the least among us? Would not a Christian nation promote peace, be impeccable stewards of our environment, denounce rampant consumerism and consumption of our natural resources, denounce war, promote and protect freedom, feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, provide the opportunity for every citizen to receive the best education possible, provide health care for all, address the dire issues of a world food crisis and global warming? I hear the same question asked time and again, “Who’s going to pay for that?!” The citizens of the richest country in the world cannot seem to find the money to do what many nations without the same resources consider priorities, and the unalienable rights to every one of their citizens. We still have a for-profit system of health care, the costs of which are skyrocketing, which leaves over 50 million people and growing without health care at all, and ranks 37th in the world in quality. 37th!! That is unconscionable! No Child Left Behind is leaving millions behind, and the cost of a college education is putting that possibility in the hands of fewer and fewer young people. Our infrastructure is in disrepair, with more than half of our bridges, tunnels, and roads in need of serious attention. Oil is $120 a barrel, and we continue to consume it voraciously; pushing us to the tipping point, if we haven’t already passed it, with respect to global warming. Our inane rush to increase the inefficient and environmentally unsound development of bio fuels made from corn, is placing a great strain on the world food supply, and driving the prices increasingly higher. People are starving to death by the tens of thousands every day, and riots are breaking out worldwide. When combined with the greatest contributor to greenhouse gases: unchecked clearing of forests vital to the Earth’s ecosystem to provide grazing land for cattle… to feed the cattle 20 pounds of feed to provide one pound of meat… to then feed that meat to people mainly in the form of 99 cent hamburgers (does this really make sense to anyone ?), we all need to understand that the issues facing us all are extremely dire. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan have bled the nation of one trillion dollars and climbing $13 billion a month; money that could have been used for the benefit of our entire nation. Unlike the war in Iraq. The richest three percent of Americans have greatly profited from globalization, while the bulk of Americans are finding it increasingly difficult to keep their heads above water, living on 110% of their income. Millions are losing their homes, their jobs, their health care, their ability to provide for their families, and their dignity as people. The money to change all of this is in the hands of the very people who have the power to change the policies of this nation. What is lacking is the will to act. Congress has failed to end the war in Iraq, as most of us who voted them into office in the last election put them there to do just that, and continues to fund the war, continues the detrimental, wasteful, and corrupt farm subsidies which pay huge corporate agribusinesses and landowners not to grow food, which subsidize corn, and manipulate the worldwide market for commodities, forcing the poorest of farmers worldwide to lose their livelihoods, and Congress continues to fail the people of this nation by not addressing universal health care, education reform, global warming, our crumbling economy and infrastructure, and poverty, both here and worldwide. What is also lacking is the voice of an outraged nation. Our media, the weapons of mass distraction, are busy diverting our attention from these serious issues with the rantings of one attention starved preacher. Frankly, our media is shameful. The recent Democratic debate monitored by Charles Gibson and George Stephanopoulos; the first hour of which was filled with inane questions better suited for an episode of Jerry Springer, was an utter disgrace. Endless, mindless polling concerned with the most irrelevant of issues flame the fire threatening to reduce Thomas Jefferson’s ideal of our American experiment in democracy to ashes. Throughout this nomination process, and in both parties, there have been some voices of reason attempting to push the vital issues facing our nation to the forefront of the debate. Unfortunately, many of those voices were marginalized, ridiculed, and squelched by the pundits, talking heads, pseudo-intellectuals, pseudo-experts, and egomaniacs of the 24 hour news machine. The issues aren’t as important to these people as hearing themselves talk and filling airtime. The issues don’t sell ads for Viagra. The issues don’t bring a profit. Just ask many of the nation’s watchdog publications, the most ardent of muckrakers who take the role of the press very seriously, how difficult it is to compete for the attention of the American public against the mindless, sensationalistic, profit driven, tabloid media that passes for our press in America. Yet there is still a voice remaining that seeks to elevate the national conversation, and I am amazed and inspired by its determination to stay above the fray. Weathering the negative torrent that seeks to pull him down to the basest of places, Barack Obama has remained on the high ground, calling us all to focus on the issues that profoundly affect the entire nation and the world. In his words, I hear an echo of the many voices before his that told us that we are doing it wrong. I hear a voice of concern for the least of us, that inspires us to act from a place of love, but one man alone cannot bring about the change we so desperately require. I sincerely hope this nation will rise up to a place that replaces the politics of fear, negativity, and vitriol with the best that this nation has the potential to achieve. That is patriotism that we all can get behind. Chris Barczynski