Formerly known as, The Independence Day Show.
HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY
In 1773, the 13 colonies located in North America, but still very much under British rule, revolted to additional taxation, believing they had already paid their dues. So in Boston, they took to the streets in revelry and what a party it would be. The British Tea they had received and were expected to pay more taxes, but a further blow to freedom, they simply would not absorb. And so the real Patriots, took the British Tea and destroyed every last leaf. When they discovered the mutiny in the colonies, the Crown across the pond became infuriated. The spectacular chain of events that followed, charted the course to the American Revolutionary War, and clearing the way, to one day celebrate Independence Day.
But in 1775, all of the colonies were still not convinced to join ranks into a single army, to fight for their independence. But at the Virginia convention, a man by the name of Patrick Henry, stepped up to the podium then delivered a speech, that gave rise to the birth of a nation.
8th of November
by Big & Rich
“It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the matter.
Gentlemen may cry, Peace, Peace – but there is no peace. The war is actually begun!
The next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms!
Our brethren are already in the field!
Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have?
Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?
Forbid it, Almighty God!
I know not what course others may take;
but as for me, give me liberty or give me death!
The high profile nature of the deaths and the broken cities that followed, allowed no time to weep or breathe or figure out a solution to prevent the chaos from happening again, or worse yet, evolving into something more deadly. Backward steps is what we felt, but perhaps, the string of recent occurrences, leading to lines drawn in archaic sand, were exposed cracks finally surfacing in places where progress had never been made, forcing ‘civil rights battles’, that should have been crushed, when the 13th Amendment abolished the institution of slavery.
But on this day of celebration of the birth of a nation, one photograph tells the story of how far our country had come. For no one truly believed he could actually win…. until he won.
ALL HAIL THE WRECKING ERA
Before he was elected, he caught hold of a conspiracy and turned it into a plan. So filled with an unnatural source of vindictiveness and ugly, he went on a crusade, that he knew was a lie, and all but dedicated his life, to the destruction of the Presidency of America’s first Black President: Barack Hussein Obama, so honorably elected. To the abyss he shall lead us – a snake oil salesman, with a wrecking ball and lies, we should be embarrassed, but instead, we further divide.
So Happy Independence Day, I say in both a salute to every man and woman – enslaved or free – whose legacy is our democracy.
“Leadership is not about the next election, it’s about the next generation.” – Simon Sinek
To Generation X, and every generation that follows. to the Millennials who are already fighting smarter; do not become discouraged nor accept wrong as right. Do not concede to defeat when truth is on your side,and never stop believing, that you will someday change the world; not through war but peace.
this is… The Neighborhood
“How is it possible to have a civil war?”
– George Carlin
The Final Frontier
by Ignorant Intelligence
by Kendall F. Person
Darkness falls and you think you have won.
A young man’s spine is snapped
and a squad car explodes.
Public Servants band together
Looters and thieves
overtake peaceful protesters,
trampling words of truth and wisdom
no time for reason.
Darkness falls when a young man is shot dead.
Memories of a child
overwhelmed by supporters of the gunman.
The President takes to the air
no calls for calm,
stokes the flames
with vicious rhetoric instead.
Darkness falls and there is still no water,
you question rather the land you love
has simply forgotten or
never truly cared about you,
but you refuse to give up,
for a legacy is made for everyone,
so you close your eyes, say a prayer
then contemplate, what you believe
to be the meaning of why you are here.
“One man can’t change the world”
you hear the voices say.
“You are a writer, whose only gift
is to keep them entertained.”
No answers to our prayers
– we begin to believe –
we clasp our hands together,
and the miracle never do we see.
All the goodness created,
upstaged once again
and right on schedule
the darkness rolls in.
But the windows are open
and the sun pours through
and you pull yourself together
no fanfare needed,
that is not what drives you,
and now you hear the voice,
the one that never abandons you.
“I have given you the gift of words
and I have saved you from yourself
You have asked a thousand times
and I have answered the same way;
it does not matter the size of your contribution
only that it’s made.”
So you stop believing your own headlines,
that are in fact written by you,
and end the pity party, as if you should not struggle too
You take your seat in front of a computer
– center stage to you.
No introduction needed,
but imaginary curtains raised,
and you begin the performance
delivered by your words.
I write because its my contribution,
my weapon against self-destruction,
my way to light the world,
We have no control over the mongers
nor can we bring back the wrongful dead.
We cannot change a bomber’s mission
whose eyes and heart
have long been dead.
We cannot halt a crime in progress,
nor stop a public servant
from breaking his public’s back.
We can only watch a mob turned frenzied,
burning down stores of hard working people.
We cannot choose when the lines are drawn
nor order our neighbor to stand on our side.
We will become discouraged
and question our God,
for we are only human
emotional, mortal beings.
And the darkness is a heavy burden
a worthy opponent indeed.
But if we stand together
each shining an individual light
peaceful protest, speeches given,
solutions sought, hate amended
or however our gifts illuminate,
even when we tire or become weary
or the dreaded voices return…
As long as we remember,
no matter how dark it gets
if we continue to contribute
regardless of how meek it appears,
the next time, or the one after that
when the darkness sees its chance,
and starts to fall across the land
the light will be prepared for battle
and good will halt the march of evil.
allowing PEACE to overtake the land.
Found your hill? Take a stand. Say The Anthem, and Peace be with you
“Good grief. If you haven’t read
Animal Farm. just watch the movie.”
Aint Doin That
produced by Maxlord 808mafia
IN USA, DEMOCRACY ISOLATES;
WHILE ALL THE WORLD (CUP) IN RUSSIA
by Kendall F. Person
It was like when Hillary did not campaign in Wisconsin: Was it an underestimation of the competition? An ill-prepared strategy, that only considered the big stages? Or could it have been, that places like Adams, Marathon and Jefferson Counties never hit the radar? Perhaps the old guard DNC, believed the counties of Milwaukee, Eau Claire, Dane and La Crosse was more than enough to take Wisconsin and The White House.
The miscalculation, combined with the weight of a cyber attack by a hostile foreign power (Russia), a brutal yet unintentional decision by the former Director of the FBI (Comey), and up against a foe made of an unbreakable form of teflon, that only the equivalent of kryptonite could have undone, felled the campaign of Hillary Rodham Clinton, and gave rise to the democracy-testing era of Trump.
Team USA was gifted a straightforward path onto the sporting world’s biggest stage: the 2018 FIFA World Cup, hosted by Russia. And while Team USA has never grasped the title (a 1930 semi-final appearance would be their deepest run), and would have been a long shot to even make the knockout rounds, it was still inconceivable that the United States would not qualify.
On October 11, 2017 at a sparsely populated Ato Boldon Stadium in Couva, Team USA faced an opponent, who had nothing to play for, if there ever was. The national team of Trinidad and Tobago (a Caribbean island nation, pop. 1.3 million) was in dead last, winning only once in nine matches. However, Team USA did not go to Wisconsin, either.
Sports in its most intense form is a mind game as much as it is a physical one, and in the 17th minute of the final match, in fact, the last chance to qualify for the World Cup in Russia, Team USA was mind fucked. When Trinidad and Tobago, scored the first goal, it was ultimately a shot to the heart, as the USA would not recover. Unnoticed until now, but when the National Futbol Team fell in 2017, it would unwittingly provide a clear view into to the isolating of America today.
Many Americans may not even know the title is on the line and that the World Cup is in full throttle. While some will deny its influence, on the bases that soccer is not a popular sport in the USA, but at this juncture, if Team USA was on the roster in Russia, that debate would prove irrelevant. The tribal tension, that presently scorches civil relations is at an all time high. There are few events that pull countrymen together like the wonderful world of sports. Like always and with purpose, the current President would have delivered a tweet attack (divide and conquer at all times) to lessen the enthusiasm, but even a magical run to the Round of 16 (begins June 30, 2018), would have built enough common ground, to provide a reason for red & blue states to stand and cheer – as one.
“Democracy, like liberty, justice and other social and political rights, is not “given”, it is earned through courage, resolution and sacrifice.”
History making milestones, like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s stunning political victory, solidifies an era of generational leadership change, with the megaphone received, adding depth to their voices; The shock retirement announcement of Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy, a moderate voice once gone, places court backed issues like Abortion Rights, Affirmative Action and Gay Marriage in clear and present jeopardy, as the White House turns back time.
First, it was The Paris Agreement, when the nation walked away, the United States joined Nicaragua, as the lone two countries to thumb its noses at climate change. Next came the backing out of The Iran Nuclear Deal, which accomplished two things: (1) it broke an agreement that we signed, and on the international stage, (2) showed an unfamiliar America, one that would renege on its word. The government then pulled out of The United Nations Human Rights Council, and in contrast with the immigrant children separation debacle, appeared the most irresponsible. But if a trade war emerges from the ashes of what was once a Pan-Pacific Trade Deal among Partners, irresponsible would hardly describe it. And coincidence or not, while democracy isolates, all eyes are on Russia as they currently play host to a World (Cup), that is moving on without us.
The global community, which shares in and benefits from technology, culture and humanity, indeed is changing our world. But supporting an isolationist path, allows fear to weaken, then conquer even the best lit democracy.
this is… The Neighborhood
“Democracy is messy and hard. It’s never easy.” – Robert Kennedy
Note to Audience: Eugene, Oregon and Sacramento, California provide the backdrop for a precautionary a tale told two cities. One is fact. the other is fiction. However, the use of the hybrid narrative (my favorite performance device) is not to confuse, but to overwhelm in a subtle form of chaos… much like gossip can.
From 2012, GOSSIP is the 1st in a collection of more than 20 short stories. However, it is one of only two, originally penned under thepublicblogger. – KP
Fire and swords are slow engines of destruction,
compared to the tongue of a gossip. – Richard Steele
by Txny Supreme
GOSSIP part i MIND CONTROL
written & edited by Kendall F. Person
No one knows what was in her thoughts. If she told you that she knew, there would be some doubt in those words too. But what is known, 11.068 seconds after the starter fired his gun, is that it no longer mattered what she thought, because now, her thoughts were no longer her own.
Gossip begins in the mind, as quiet little voices in our heads. Initially, the voices are turned inside, and aimed only at its hosts. They begin by inducing doubt, “you can’t do it,” or “they will laugh at you if you try”, then move deeper toward internal destruction by forcing doubt to turn our minds inside out.
An unknown athlete, outside of the tight-knit world of track & field, Jeneba Tarmoh had nothing to lose. So she jogged in place, awaiting the starters’ familiar call of “Runners take your mark”. She, along with, seven women from around the country, did as they were told. The sold out crowd of over 18,000 fans fell silent, as the selection process for determining the coveted title of worlds fastest woman was underway. Butterflies in Jeneba’s stomach came to life, but she maintained her calm, keeping her eye on the goal. The goal was reaching the London Olympics, and in order to do so, she knew she had to run the race of her life.
Sandra Richards had lived in the River City all her life, but had never been in this part of town. And she never would have imagined, that she would. But five years in, her losing battle with addiction, had her doing many things that she never thought she would. So she stood in line at the womens’ shelter, hoping to get one of the few beds for the night. She was exhausted and cold, but mostly, she did not want to fight with anyone or even herself, on this night. The shelter was far from comfortable, but the guarantee of a hot shower, warm meal and being able to sleep without fear of being bitten by rabid raccoon or fighting off troublesome tweekers, was about all of the goodness she could ask.
“Get set.” The eight women rose with the starters command in mind-blowing synchronization. Jeneba was locked in position – and in fact – locked on target. The sound of the gun substituted for the word “Go”. The subdued crowd exploded to their feet, cheering with unbridled excitement as the American women raced, like lightning, down the track. Her mind went blank during that run. Only the sounds of her heartbeat, and even that she had under control. But if only the world we live in, could be managed in short blasts of time, we could each control our own destinies, without fighting those voices inside our mind. 11.068 seconds. That is all the time it took. Jeneba Tarmoh had crossed the finish line in 3rd place, earning, through hard work and dedication, her spot on the Olympic Team. But before she could complete her victory lap, her celebration was cut short. A dead-heat for 3rd place, was the unanimous call of the judges, forcing an unheard of runoff between two women, since there was no such thing as 4th place in gaining an Olympic berth.
Sandra was the third person from the front, when she was yanked out of line. David O’hare Watson – a name much to big for the man -smiled with fiendish pride, as he opened his hand, displaying a wad of tricks disguised as treats. Sandra had once been a beautiful woman; rich, brown, soft with delicate skin. Her hair always smelled of blossoms, and her natural curves, induced lust of more than just a few of her friends’ men. But that was before she met David, a man who had never seen a good day in his life. He was happy to smile, bearing a mouthful of missing and chipped teeth. Hygiene had become foreign, and the smell emitting from his body, brought tears to the eyes of anyone who got within just a few feet. But, for the addicts with no hope, little dignity and now, like Sandra, those with no place to go, he always had the best drugs and was always willing to share his bounty, for the flickering hope, of a little something in return.
The runoff had become its own celebrity. NBC had agreed to provide coverage, Hayward Field was reopened, issuing tickets, that now where the hottest in the country. A simple footrace between two women was building toward, perhaps mythical, and certainly, a spectacle, blown way out of its proportion. But it was a window of opportunity, for Jeneba Tarmoh to make her mark. Win or lose, no longer mattered, she could ride the wave of her 15-minutes, and weave it into a pot of gold for her and her family. But the voices now inside her head, no longer whispers, but shouts, filled her soul with dread. “You are a fool!” “You can’t beat her!” “They’ll all laugh at you.” And poor, little Jeneba Tarmoh had not the strength nor the fortitude to fight. Making the biggest mistake of her young life, she listened to the voices as truth, rather than dismissing them as internal gossip.
The real tragedy behind Jeneba’s pulling out of the race, was far sadder than the nightmares, that she will always & forever face. So few times does the window of opportunity open wide enough for us to see. So few times, do we recognize it, allowing for a chance to succeed. For Jeneba not to climb through her open window, epitomized the agony of defeat. But, the most unfortunate part of this debacle, was that the thrill of victory, was snatched from underneath her feet, due to own self-doubt and non-belief.
Sandra walked alongside of David, breathing through her mouth. The funk of his body was only overshadowed by the lust in his dreadful grin. “I don’t want it, I don’t need it”, she continued to tell the voices, even as her legs moved forward, her head continued to turn, looking back toward the safety of the women’s shelter. As they crossed the pedestrian walkway, where the streetlights were so bright, cars that passed underneath could easily see those who walked overhead. Seconds before Sandra would change her mind and run back toward her place in line, Martina Sanchez, in her 2012 black, convertible BMW 740 Li, would divert her eyes just long enough to look up toward the sky. She was her own self, biggest admirer, proud of every thing she did, and her knack of picking the right men, assured a life filled with comfort. But for Martina, being happy and fulfilled within herself, was never quite enough. She had to know, that others knew they were less fortunate. And so for her, gossip and greed were the tools – at her disposal – most used.
The radiance from her skin, and the lack of bounce from her hair, made Martina almost second guess who she just saw, and with the low-life David O’hare no less. Sandra had been reduced to rubble, Martina had seen it for herself. The gods had delivered a tasty morsel, which she would use, as if it were gold. Had she waited for just a single second more, before picking up the phone, she would have known of the lies she would spread, as Sandra Richards, had turned and run toward safety. She would have seen David O’hare kicking dirt toward her, but making no attempt in a chase. Even he was tiring of being a cipher, and decided, this night to go it alone, keeping his misery to himself. But Martina saw none of this, her ear now buried deep inside the phone. “Hello,” said the voice on the other end of the call. Giddy and self-righteous, her rant began with these unjust words, “You know I’m not the one to gossip, but…..”.
Gossip has the capability of playing a destructive part in our everyday lives. But mostly, it is an innocent display, that usually dies a painless and trivial death. But, sometimes gossip can ruin lives. And just like envy, sloth, lust, greed and pride, it may end in the spiraling, destructive path, of the seventh sin known simply as….wrath.
<to be continued>
this is… The Neighborhood
written in 2014, GOSSIP is a part of thepublicblogger short story collect
(up next) Gossip: Chaos
Sex without love is a meaningless experience,
but as far as meaningless experiences go
its pretty damn good.– Woody Allen
from 1981, Do Me Baby
The Moral Compass of Making Love Versus Sex for Sport
written & edited by Kendall F. Person
The loving couple jumped the broom, turned and faced their guests and were soon pronounced husband and wife (and where same sex unions are legal and recognized, an identical ritual applies). They laughed among friends and cried in the embrace of their family. Today was the happiest day of their life and the first day that they would spend the rest of eternity together. They were toasted by the best man and maid of honor, they danced together under the spotlight and when he carried her off, they made love under the moonlight.
Years later, they had still loved only one another, but to keep the flame alive, they began games of role play underneath the covers. She would dress as a french maid and he would sometimes play the role of sex slave. They would laugh and giggle after the explosion, and fall asleep deep in one another’s arms. They experimented with swinging, exchanging partners with other loving couples, all certified and tested, clean of all diseases. But no matter the feelings of ecstasy they found in the arms of another, no one could take the place of their one and only lover.
The idea of sexual relations is so varied among religions that it is virtually impossible to include an acceptable analogy under one cover. Even the concept of adultery is difficult to ponder, when some cultures allow for more than one wife, where in others, this is strictly forbidden. In most religions, all are called upon to obey the law of the land, but some laws, even for a loving homosexual relationship, calls upon death. Some churches believe that even sex among heterosexuals, is only for procreation. So would either of these categories fit, or is it sex simply for nature?
Using animal kingdom as a guide? Good luck. The most elegant of big cats, the cheetah, is a promiscuous lot, and have no idea who their baby daddy could be. The emperor penguin, however, mates for life, but even in their traditional courtship, it is the father that gives its life to protect the egg, the beginning of life. Hyenas are a matricidal clan, who not only relegate the males to second class citizens and to live as a separate bunch, but produce so much testosterone, their sex organs resemble and are as big as the male counterpart. Bull elephants enter into a blind rage, mounting anything in their path to satisfy their natural urge.
The collegiate, passed the stage of peer pressure as a resort, has moved into age of experimentation, where many view sex as a sport. But even then, wrapped in the arms of embrace, there is a sense of love during the ritual of sex. A mother who engages in sex for pay, no other option to feed her kids. A lonely man who entertains himself, there are those who believe, that self-gratification is a sin and a segway to hell.
In the end, the practice of consensual sex among adults is prone to individual feelings and emotions based on beliefs, education, upbringing and ultimately whether sex should be as sedate as love making between two married, hetersexual adults simply to procreate, or an outlet of expression, a release of energy and a personal choice?. The moral compass of making love versus sex for sport comes down to one very real thing: how do we feel when the act is over. Are we ashamed of what we did? Can we not look in the mirror at ourselves and do we want our partner, whom we have just shared our most intimate being, to stay around or simply disappear.
this is … The Neighborhood