he who is known as sefton

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Location: Susquehanna Depot, Pennsylvania, United States

Well, if you got here via the bi-chromatic Universe and "Dez", thanks. Their being available means they can be rented out, so to say, to vendors. For example, they'd be great in promoting pastries. Kids love cookies, so do adults. As for that ascending numeral three, it came about by way of ignorance. More than once, I'd see that same numeral with wings or a halo or both even on this or that pickup truck. And, dumb me, I'd think they were like golden horse shoes or four-leaf clovers ... good luck charms. It wasn't until later, I found out those threes are meant to commemorate one posthumously charismatic NASCAR driver. To inspire all those signs of grief, that guy might've had the makings for ... well, that's likely better left to the intuition of NASCAR votaries.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

illegals and "jihadis"

For the past couple weeks, I've been posting 3by5 notices on the Town Restaurant's bulletin board ... and drawing strange looks. This particular coffee shop is located in the Pennsylvania municipality of Susquehanna Depot. On each 3by5 card, I've been inscribing text like so:

"In favor of Minuteman Project ...

publicity stunt? .... MAYBE ...

citizens' response to

illegal immigration

... CERTAINLY .... "

By the way, I've taken care to note that I have no affiliation with the Minuteman Project. Speaking of taking care, I shall in time pontificate on the one monumental and crucial difference between Minuteman volunteers and America-hating "jihadis" in Iraq. Wood'ja (?) buh-leave! Both shudder at the same horror. Prologue done, let's segue to where I pilfer from the vault of American popular cinema.

Surely, my numerous and devoted fans suspect, and have the right to do so, that I have a few surprises up my sleeve. By reason of expedience, I'm starting with an illustration, drawn from American popular cinema. And I mean popular with both the lay public and the cineastes. At the Academy Awards, DOCTOR ZHIVAGO racked up a bunch. Whenever Julie Christie appears on that movie's screen, the camera sings her praises.

Oh, yes, I should alert readers that this movie depicts events, largely fictitious, that take place during the Communist Revolution in Russia. At the time of these events, the communists also known as the reds are in a life-and-death struggle with the whites, naturally enough, the anti-communists. And the issue is in doubt.

In one clip, the city of Moscow is shown almost frozen stiff in a typical Russian winter. The situation is so dire that wood for warmth is more desired than gold. Just as gold attracts theft, so does wood in that time and place. The person, narrating the particulars about the clip, is a future comrade general. And he's been ordered to shoot on the spot anybody he catches stealing wood. In so many words, he explains how come the reds are justified in issuing the orders he's resolved to obey. "One man stealing wood is a tragedy. A million men stealing wood is a catastrophe."

Well, the movie makes it very clear that the reds are resolved on winning their revolution. And they're in no mood for any catastrophe. Likely enough, the average movie patron might suppose there could be dire consequences for the future comrade general, should he fail to shoot anybody he catches stealing wood. One way to put it, four walls for punishment are three too many.

For now, let's stick with movies. Let's suppose we're movie producers with a budget big enough to hire Leonardo DiCaprio for the lead. Oh, alright (!) already, so I'm asking my readers to stretch their imagination a little. I'm sure they can do it, even if they have to strain a little.

So, we produce a movie that shows a character with a magnetic personality, and born and bred in a country, other than the United States. This particular person is resolved on fleeing poverty and oppression. With pluck and gumption and a winning smile, our leading character enters the United States. Yes, this newly minted immigrant is a sure-fire societal asset. As the movie segues to the closing credits, the background music is stirring, and the typical audience for such entertainment fare emotionally welcomes the potential societal asset.

In summary, we can agree that one undocumented alien taking up residence in this country can become a societal asset. But how about a million?

For a moment, let's speculate a little about the mindset of the average Minuteman volunteer. Likely enough, such a volunteer would enjoy the movie we metaphorically produced. Heck, we did such a bang-up job, the volunteer even sheds a tear or two before the closing credits roll. In this the real world, however, we have to slash to the cheese.

The volunteer has to allow that quantity alters quality, sometimes drastically. One illegal immigrant presents one situation, beautiful material for a wonderful movie, maybe, even a date-night movie. Unfortunately, nonetheless, a million illegal immigrants present a totally different situation, a catastrophe in the making. No doubt about it, Minuteman volunteers are patriots. They dear love their country. As best as they can express this love, they affirm they wish only to protect and serve the country, which these United States is.

Oh, alright (!) already, so, I'm taking a shocking liberty. So what?! I'm sure the average reader will survive nicely enough, thank you. In addition, my numerous devoted fans will understand perfectly ... bless their ever-loving hearts! Here's a bit of editorializing. Our president, as I am writing this piece, solidified ... I mean in steel-reinforced concrete ... his standing of "dumb'ya". Whatever possessed him to call the Minuteman volunteers "vigilantes" is beyond me. And he's supposed to be the politician that his critics "mis-underestimate". The vigilantes can vote, whereas undocumented aliens, despite residing in this country, can't. Remember, dear reader, you got it here first, ah, provided that is, it comes to pass. Shortly after the 2006 elections, one shouldn't be surprised to see petition drives, demanding dumb'ya's vacating the White House.

Funny thing, though, I suspect the vast majority of those so-called vigilantes lack the capacity to articulate what they've already achieved.

Here's where we make a bone-rattling leap. We are going to peer into the heart of an average America-hating "jihadi", who's taken up arms. So fervent as these jihadis in their hatred, some have even committed suicide to battle what they consider infidel occupiers of the sacred Arab land of Iraq.

True enough, I don't have a degree in depth psychology, much less a license to practice psychotherapy of any sort. Heck, I don't even speak a word of Arabic. And yet, I dare infer what horrifying thought animates these jihadis. Some of our pundits have opined that the jihadis are motivated by an obscene spin-off from their religion. That could be true to a certain extent. Anybody, who's content with that explanation, could be sold the Brooklyn Bridge ... a second time.

Much like the Minuteman volunteers, I doubt the vast majority of the jihadis can even articulate the terrible thought that's driving them. Here I am, daring to infer such. Deep down, this is what both believe. The world that has a place for them is dying ... dig the irony! ... and the world that's being born will have no place for them.

As for the jihadis, it could be possible that the vast majority of them can get along well enough in this new world. Nevertheless, they don't want to. So far as they're concerned, entering this new world voluntarily would mean the death of their soul. Our of despair, they resolve to go down fighting.

For absolutely no reason I can conveniently adduce, I shall now pontificate on the monumental and crucial difference between the jihadis and our Minuteman Project volunteers. Deep down inside ... dig the irony! ... both shudder before the same horror. Just to re-iterate, the world that has a place for them is dying, and the world that's being born will have no place for them. What could be the big difference between the two?

Of course, the most obvious difference is the method of their response to their respective situations. Anybody, who settles for just that, would cheerfully swap a grimy and tattered dollar bill for a shiny bright dime. Here's the difference. The Minuteman volunteers may well allow that the world that's being born will, likely enough, have no place for them. So what?! They've taken the first step to ensure that this new world, which is just over the horizon, shall have a place for their children.

.....he who is known as sefton

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Thursday, July 28, 2005

the corleone manifesto

01 . . . we're stuck on this planet.

02 . . . we're stuck with this earth's limited resources.

03 . . . we're stuck with each other.

04*. . . what's above our heads and what's underneath our feet are small matters, compared to what is within us.
. . . . . * cribbed from Goethe

05#. . . principe inspires, practicality requires.
. . . . . # gratis he who is known as sefton

And just for the heck of it, I've appended this little essay, which is also found under blog entry with the same title in my myspace profile page:

"Rather recently, Asperger's syndrome has come to public attention. And not long ago, I was 'accused' . . . and that's the word I'm deliberately choosing . . . of being afflicted with the syndrome. After mulling over the validity of that accusation, I came to the conclusion . . . 'so (?) what!'. Truth be told, sometimes to my ear, it comes across as much as 'curse' as, say, 'diagnosis' . . . again, 'so (?) what!' . . .

"Rather recently, I had an epiphany about myself. I now believe there are three idiosyncrasies that have, over the years, made me a social misfit, if not outright pariah. I will divulge those idiosyncrasies, starting with the one, in which I take great pride. Time and time again, I have insisted on the right to know better today than I did yesterday.

"Quite candidly, I don't think that insistence, by itself, makes me a social misfit. The reason being, I've always been considered an "independent thinker". And that's putting it diplomatically. It's a mystery to me why, every once in a while, I get called a "mule-headed mick". One would think that, given a surname that ends in a vowel, my ethnic origin would be obvious.

"The second idiosyncrasy is my insistence on thinking for myself. More than once, that insistence has gotten me in situations, where I've had to throw hands. Incidentally, I do take pride in that insistence.

"It's the third idiosyncrasy, in which I'm forbidden to take pride. Really, it would be taking pride in being born with no more than ten toes and only one rectal orifice. Quite candidly, I am incapable of taking anybody, who dislikes me, all that seriously. That incapacity has for me a rather fortuitous consequence.

"Sometimes when I'm shaving and gazing in the mirror, I decide I just don't care all that much for the person, looking back at me. As a consequence of my incapacity and that occasional flash of dislike, I am incapable of taking myself all that seriously . . . oh, well, make of that what you will . . . .


By the way, clicking on the envelope icon brings up a page that facilitates e.mail.

join my Notify List and get email when I update my site:
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After sending out one notification, so I was advised, I should wait anywhere from 11 days to four weeks, before sending out a subsequent. * + * + * + * + * + + * + * + * + * + * + * + . . . okay, clicking on the below hyperlink brings up my site in the myspace galaxay.

Check me out!
( _{ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ }_ )