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 5 Sep 2003 @ 10:35
Retirement in a Trailer Park Through the Eyes of a Child
After a spring break a teacher asked her young pupils how they spend their holidays. One child wrote the following:
We always used to spend the holidays with grandma and grandpa. They used to live here in a big brick house, but grandpa got retarded and they moved to Arizona. Now they live in a place with a lot of other retarded people. They live in a tin box with rocks painted green made to look like grass. They ride around a big tricycles and wear name tags because they don’t know who they are anymore.
They go to a building called the wrecked center but they must have to it fixed because it is alright now. They play games and do exercises there, but they don’t do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with their hats on. I guess they don’t know how to swim.
At their gate there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so that nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out. Then they go cruising in their golf carts.
My grandma used to bake cookies and stuff, but I guess she forgot how. Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. They eat the same thing every night…”Early Birds”. Some of the people can’t get passed the man in the doll house to go out. So the ones do get out bring food back to the wrecked center and call it pot luck.
My grandma says grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and she says I should work hard so that I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment I want to be the man in the doll house, then I will let people out so that they can visit their grandchildren.
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Although this is cute and funny, there is so much truth in it. It is not a mix up of words...it is the truth of what happens when one lives a life to work, and follows the rules of society without question...including materialism and consumerism. Accepting life as is portrayed by most is not spiritual, it is puppetry. Saying that there is no truth that is universal, but truth the only exists as one's opinion or preference is the opposite of spiritual, it is helping to perpetuate the downfall of the human species to save one's ego. It is extreme indulgence and nothing more...
I am sure the most can enjoy the humor behind this story, but how many have the courage to admit it's truth and take action to change the direction of this planet. A direction that is caused by the hand of humans...
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25 Dec 2002 @ 00:50
THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS 2002
By Doug Fuller
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the land,
not a critic was stirring, for stirring was banned.
A thousand brown prisoners, snug in their cells,
all held without charges or tinsel or bells;
and mamma was wrapped in the national flag,
while we sang, "Where there's never a boast or a brag."
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the TV I flew like a flash;
I then watched "Survivor" and reruns of "Mash."
The fireworks, exploding above the new snow,
gave a luster of objects to people below.
When what saw my wondering eyes in the flashes:
a miniature George Bush and eight tiny fascists!
Their jerseys were blue and said "WORLD DOMINATION";
I knew right away this was not just claymation.
More rapid than eagles the warlords they came,
as the little Bush whistled and called them by name:
"Now, Daschle! Now, Ashcroft! Now Strom, don't relent!
On, Poindexter, Rumsfeld! On Henry and Trent!
To the top of the globe, while the crowd's at the mall,
now bomb away, bomb away, bomb away all!"
His sack had a war game for each girl and boy;
his pocket, four billion from just Illinois.
Far up on his high seat the driver did mount,
with more massive weapons than Kofi could count.
And then, I heard sounds from away off somewhere,
the booming of bombs that were bursting in air.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
down the chimney old Dick Cheney came with a bound.
He said not a word, nor disclosed his location;
he wire-tapped my house in the name of the nation.
Then holding the strings of his little Bush puppet,
he went to the chimney and quickly rose up it.
The sleigh was still running, but Dick didn't hurry;
gas guzzlers, it seemed, were no longer a worry.
He popped the champagne and exclaimed as he served it,
"The world is now ours, and GODDAMN, we deserve it!" More >
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