Dec 21, 1989 Bucharest Romania
When the moment of clarity arrived for former Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, it was not the sound of a crowd roaring his approval or chanting his name in reverence; Neither was it the thunderous cadence of his own voice, ricocheting throughout the cold winter air, that caught his greatness in mid waltz and froze his bravado stand. Nor was it the reverb of boos, boomeranging off the walls of the jammed-packed palatial square, from the people, that he misguidedly assumed his lies still consumed.
But in reality, it was the sound of irrelevance, that gave way to emptiness, like lies often do. In less than 90 seconds, a towering inferno of a ruler, was doused with the revolutionary might of truth. And while it would take four days before his execution, it was in that moment he fell. And it was in his falling, that the people rose above him, and took back the dance, that rightfully belonged to them.
United States December 2018
The corrosive nature of political power can be devastating, even to a stable nation, Once trusted representatives of the people, even the most committed public servants, can evolve into unscrupulous, self-centered faux leaders, whose loyal constituents may not recognize the imposter, until the damage has been done in a democracy-be-damned consolidation of ill-gotten power.
With our political attention remaining on a national level, the state legislators and lame duck governors of Wisconsin, North Carolina and Michigan, stage power grabs only witnessed in banana republics and dictatorial fed nations. The lack of physical violence may defy the definition of a coup d’etat, but the-in-plain-site brutalization of free and fair elections, and contributing to diminished faith, that every vote, even if counted, does not matter. make it a distinction without a difference, giving the appearance of a cracked foundation. In fact, their ugly sophistication in manipulating the 2018 midterm election results, by burying corruption, with lies and by fanning flames of fear – in an already toxic political culture – the GOP’s legislative drive, to strangle the authority of fairly elected Democratic governor of each state, while not a violent overthrow, it can be considered no longer, a peaceful transition of power.
But democracy offers paths to correct what has been wronged: (i) an impartial judicial system, whose importance cannot be overstated; (ii) a justice department, whose motto is no one is above the law; (iii) a steadfast, resistance, who believe the ballot is stronger than the bullet; and that (iv) cheaters bare the wrath of karma.
Ultimately, while the right to pursue happiness is bestowed upon everyone, by our under siege constitution, the dance belongs to the people.
this is… The Neighborhood
Four hundred feet at its highest elevation. No buildings, no roads and with the exception of huts, no infrastructure at all. No emergency responders, no sounds, no alarms. In fact, on North Sentinel Island in 60,000 years, not a single thing about it or its inhabitants – the Sentinelese – has changed. On December 26, 2004 an earth-rotation-altering earthquake and tsunami, that took the lives of one-quarter of a million people, on two continents in 13 countries, from 59 nations, yet somehow, the world’s most isolated neighborhood… yielded survivors.
from Brooklyn, New York
Asoh Black! w/ Joy
I have ventured inside of many houses of worship, a few I have joined, but most, for various reasons I moved on. So when I refer to my pastor, I speak of only one man, within a snapshot time frame, Pastor Dave Pitts of the Church of the Nazarene. I enjoyed the way he delivered his sermon, like an educational lesson, so that everyone could understand. I felt sincerity and comfort by the welcoming nature of the congregation.
But more than anything else, the sincere belief and absolute passion in his summation of a one on one conversation. “But in the end, this is what I believe,” looking down at the Holy Bible he clutched with both hands. No high horse, no judgement, yet sound in his faith; and I grabbed hold of that emotional, unconquerable belief. Though I no longer attend service, nor an unofficial member of the church, it is that walk with Pastor, within his walk with the Lord, that reminds me, that I am not alone, even when all of the air has been blown out.
But the mind, controlled by the imagination, led by free will can begin to play tricks on us, yet nourishing our mental health, does not often find its proper place in the conversation. And even as doubt begins to surface, causing our self-confidence to drain, and while we notice the difference, our minds may interpret it as something else. The stresses of life, the gravity of faith and an awakened mental disorder do not always intersect. Sometimes they merge.
Every so often, a larger than life personality captures the spotlight, and barnstorms over our lives. When it first started, the Michael Jackson craze was fun, until some radio stations turned MJ music weekends into every single day. Many jumped ship early, even before his darker days. But some became fanatics, and Michael became their world.
An entertainer is one thing, however, but what if crazy or God traps you in a false reality, until a zombie is all that remains of a healthy soul..
In churches, synagogues, mosques, temples and chapels all around the world, is where many of the civilized invest our faith. But only a precious few truly believe in the teachings of the word, for most of us simply follow the leader in blind or trusted faith. But time has proven, over and over again, that faith in man alone is like shooting at a moving target, when your life depends on it.
Consider the transformation of Jim Jones; from charismatic minister to stone cold nut, who in plain sight, walked his congregation into an unimaginable disaster. But it is a fair question to ask, how could we ever know, that the man we deem crazy, who shouts from the street corner, is not only sane, but an Apostle delivering the message we seek?
The answer is faith, but it must begin by trusting and having faith in ourselves. By diving inside our own private North Sentinel Island, for as long we need.
I did not know John Allen Chau, from near or afar. So any analyzation of who I think he was, would rest on good intentions, but empty words nonetheless, I will offer a few words. I do not believe for even a moment, that he was on a mission of God. What I do believe, is that he believed he was.
In the final seconds, that John Allen Chau had left of his life; with the spear piercing through the air, and a bullseye across his heart, what were his final thoughts? Did he scream out “Oh Lord I tried and failed you!” Or did regret overwhelm him with such a tremendous force, that he stared into the eyes of the Sentinelese who he claimed to love, now saw only an enemy? Was he sound in his belief, where there was comfort to be found, or was he a victim of religious bombasity, shocked into reality, only when death was imminent? “Why didn’t they tell me, to seek out help?”
For his sake, I hope that John Allen Chau held steady in his faith: that during the last terrifying seconds of his life, he remained steadfast and unwavered. But if he was nuts, then the question becomes a societal one, Did those close to him smile in his face, then cowardly laugh once his back was turned? Did his counselors and mentors, support his calling, but inside knew that something was wrong? And what shall we do now? Search for answers in his death or spin a tale to glorify or renounce religion, as historical records?
Rather our journey has taken us deep inside the vast unknown of belief in a Higher Power, or on the never ending quest of science we ride, to lower the boom on faith at last; or maybe its philosophy, and the centuries old search to find the answer to the meaning of life, is where we are most settled. But truth, as John Allen Chau learned, is not an individual endeavor. And perhaps, that is the difference. God says walk with him. Crazy says walk alone.
The people living on North Sentinel Island, whom we call the Sentinelese, have an unbroken lineage, that is 60,000 years long, catapulting them back to the Stone Age. But this time, it is not the story of the Sentinelese that has drawn us in, but the story of us and a not so subliminal longing, to live as free, even if only for a moment.
this is… The Neighborhood
from 2012… Let Her Go by Passenger
“In the real world there is no nature vs. nurture argument, only an infinitely complex and moment-by-moment interaction between genetic and environmental effects” ~ Gabor Mate
Nurture Versus Nature
by Kendall F. Person
There are irrefutable differences between nature and nurture. Nature is passed down through the blood and especially prevalent in the wild, it is the instinct that enables animals to survive. In us, it may be the way we think, or how we relate to the world, and according to Professor Paul Bloom, a researcher at the Infant Cognition Centre at Yale University, it may dictate our moral code. Nature just happens, all by itself. But nurture, on some levels, is much harder, more complex. Nurture must be taught and it must be learned. It is what a child sees in his immediate world, during the all to important formative years.
The fortunate are raised by parents who are wise, healthy, ambitious and caring. They also are nurturing, instilling within us self-esteem and whatever nature may have left out. Giving their offspring a chance to grow up knowing right from wrong, and understanding, that we are someone. But when nature has not gifted us a fair shot, and when we are not born into nor arrive at the doorstep of a nurturing home, than how do we learn to live a fulfilling life; and is there a way to keep from tearing ourselves apart?
In the United States of America, we celebrate Thanksgiving Day. It is the busiest travel day of the year as family comes together, bonding over a traditional dinner. Most will offer thanks in prayer, either for good fortune or simply because we are here. But to those who are able, we should also use this time, to assist a child in need, so that they too may be thankful, and enjoy the innocence of their younger years.
We each have our own struggles and our own pain, but most still have something left.. We may think because we have achieved, all can do the same, but what we ignore, is that there is life on every level, and some of our kids are in need of our help. If we each offer a little, nurture will fill the gaps of nature, giving all of the children, at least a fighting chance.
I understand if you are thinking “Why so thanksgivy?” Because without reminders, the meaning of the day gets away from us and becomes another opportunity lost, for what I have no idea.
this is… The Neighborhood
As an angry world rages amognst us, allowing a surreal pathogen, to literally devour us, and with truth engaged in an unexpected and bewildering fight for survial; and with so many determined members of the Grand Ole Party, coming undone by a made up story, and with their political leaders, following behind a madman with power, and as a once proud nation. staggers toward the crossroads and an uncertainy of what it all means, we must never underplay the fortifying strength and the happy feelings a smile can bring. – thepublicblogger
What Makes You Smile?
by Kendall F. Person &
A Collaborative of Friends.
The smile – a mood lifting, contagious reaction, free to give and beautiful to receive – gesture and expression. How we love when babies smile. It is the one sound or expression they make, that lets us know everything is okay. A natural reaction, it is created with ease. A frown creates tension and if our Grandmothers are correct, hold on to one long enough, and it will become your permanent expression.
Smile, and less an occasion or two, the person you smiled at, will smile back at you. Smile in the mirror and you will like the person you see. Smile in the morning, and welcome in the new day. Smile when your world is crying and find the strength to see it through. A downside to smiling? I have no idea. I did not search for that answer, for the smile should remain untouchable, free from the trials and tribulations attached to so many of our expressions of emotion.
His name was Rod Serling and from 1959 – 1964, he created original episodes of the legendary anthology television show, The Twilight Zone. I was born after the series had ended, but I am not alone in claiming it as one of the all time great shows. Each episode is of its own creation. There were no recurring characters, other than his monologue, nor did any story lines continue until the next week. No subplots needed to add complexity. The foundation was laid, events executed, and our minds blown. all in less than 30 minutes. He created worlds, time periods and in arguably, the absolute best episode ever To Serve Man, he introduced humanity on earth to “humanity” from outer space. The shows were tense, compelling, and directed with such skill and finesse, we would always forget how ruthless he could be in flipping the script. Every episode was a motion picture and Rod Serling was a master of the performance.
On October 16, 1987, 12 years after Serling’s untimely death, a future music producer would be stillborn, pronounced dead at birth. But while the infant displayed no outward signs of life, there lived a fighting spirit inside. When efforts to revive him were successful, there was little hope that a young Keith Montgomery of Baltimore, Maryland would make it through the night. But there was fortitude in that infant child; he would defy the odds and after what must have been for his mother, a long and painful night, his survival gave her reason to smile.
I have much respect for the visionaries, whose legendary status does not define me as yet. I have much love for the arts and individual artistic expression, but I believe it is possible to push the envelope too far. And Rod Serling flung said envelope, way over the cliff in his creation of The Twilight Zone episode It’s a Good Life. Forced to smile at all times, in the face of death, destruction, and the systematic elimination of all mankind. It did not matter if your loved ones were disintegrated or your emotions were overwhelmed, stop smiling even for a minute, and a little boy would make you disappear. With no silver lining or message to be learned, and the perversion of smiling in the face of unspeakable things, was not entertaining and was the one performance I wish I had missed. Smiles should be untouchable after all.
Keith aka Fiyaman (Montgomery) would win the fight for his life but would not emerge unscathed. The lack of oxygen to his young brain, during the moments he did not breathe, would cause a speech impediment and a learning disability, that would remain with him for the rest of his life. During elementary school, when young children can be so cruel, his difficult speech made him a target for childhood bullies. But one day he would stand up for himself, and would force his bully to stand down and from that day forth – with the support of his family – he would find a way to live a purpose driven life. He spoke slower, and concentrated on the pronunciation of his words. He would study longer, forcing his brain to catch up with stealth. A lover of literature, who dabbles in the visual arts, but at the young age of 26, he found his calling in the recording arts. A talented and creative producer, he imagines rhythmic sounds and lays down the tracks that will one day become songs. It is his music that is heard in My Heart, The Neighborhood’s first original song. And it is in his music, where he finds the most joy, only eclipsed by the joy he feels in, “Making other people smile.”
As we go through the day, let us offer a smile as our first reaction to a friend, a family member or coworker who is having a bad day. Let us smile at the homeless family we pass on the street, allowing dignity and humility to rain down as peace. Perhaps today is the day that we need a smile, to calm the anger or bitterness or rage of our emotions, instilling an inner peace, if only for today. And if all else fails, look in the mirror or close your eyes, and find a reason to smile.
this is… The Neighborhood
Unfortunate circumstances forced The Neighborhood to part ways with Keith Montgomery, but his personal story – published prior to an unrelated faux pas – still makes us smile.
“True silence is the rest of the mind; it is to the spirit, what sleep is to the body: nourishment and refreshment.” – William Penn
Kiss Me Deadly
by Cho Young Wuk
“Silence is the source of great strength.” – Lao Tzu
ALONE WITH SILENCE
by Kendall F. Person
On the clearest night, when the clouds fail to appear, clearing the stage for the performance of the stars. And when the weather is just right, and all the day’s responsibilities are behind us; not on a day reserved for our favorite show, for our mind will be preoccupied. But on a night when we have no excuses, no way out of being alone with ourselves, under the vast expanse of a starlit sky. And once our minds are captured, by what we will later call surreal – but it was not – see where it takes you, all on its own. When the imagination takes control, our minds produce beautiful performances.
Yellowstone, the Sierra Nevadas, the Rocky Mountains, the Florida Everglades or most places in Alaska, or right outside our door, nature has a way of establishing order. It gives us back both inner peace & serenity, although for the animal residents, what we call peace, for them it is a constant struggle. And no matter how at ease our minds become, a constant state of inner peace we simply do not want, although when we have it, we do not want it to go.
We accept quotes of Eric Burdon – Inside each of us there is the seed of both good and evil… – believing we are bonded to hate and anger and evil, inhaling words like these, as if they in fact, are the gospel we seek. We wear our shields to ward off temptation, and drop to our needs in prayer, for strength to be a better person. We talk big, watch films and make plans to find positive, resourceful solutions to defeating hate, before it can spiral to the point of no return. But blame becomes the tool, that makes us feel as if we have done something, and we disperse without any progress made, on stopping the pendulum from swinging.
Silence. Just look into the sky and think real hard. Use your imagination, it is the key to all progress, and picture our world where the emotion of anger and the need for vengeance have been banished and now archaic. But if we cannot imagine it when we are all alone, embraced by the wonders of nature on a night of utter perfection, than we cannot achieve it, and by default accept, that we are good, but evil lives in equal parts within us.
this is… The Neighborhood