GRATITUDE

The temperature has been on a steady decline for several months now. For the first time in nearly a decade, I've been able to experience the natural course of autumn. The brilliant procession of deciduous trees; leaves falling to earth, southern migration of our feathered friends. To me, the cooling climate is a natural element of the arriving holiday season, and it has been sorely missed for some years now.

Before leaving California, I met an older gentleman from Michigan and spoke with him about my plans for Chicago. While 90% of the people I'd spoken with about my move looked at me sideways, this gentleman's instinct was to focus on the great value of winter. Not in the cycle of life capacity, but its effect on personal relationships. He spoke of how harsh weather promotes convening indoors, causing us to "slow it down . . to appreciate what we have". I remember the perplexed 90%: how could I even consider leaving paradise? How would I survive a climate that contains rain, snow, sleet, hail, and temperatures below freezing?

Bill Hicks had a great bit at the beginning of Revelations on the subject; "Los Angeles . . every day, hot and sunny, today, hot and sunny, tomorrow, hot and, for the rest of the . . hot and sunny, every single day, hot and sunny . . and they love it. 'Isn't great, every day, hot and sunny?' What are you, a fucking lizard? Only reptiles feel that way about this kind of weather. I'm a mammal, I can afford coats, scarves, cappuccino and rosy cheeked women".

"Slow it down".

The message is simple . . yet crucial. The long standing "gathering around the campfire" is a key element of the human connection. Banding together to battle adverse conditions seems to be a dying trend in our society. The care free mentality I witnessed in California was seemingly impervious to everything short of an earthquake. Protecting from cold builds character, it generates appreciation for clear warm weather when available. The person who best adapts to his surroundings, who stands fast from one extreme to the next, is the most balanced. Seasons are a part of life we all must endure; mentally, physically, and emotionally.

The first decade of the new millennium is coming to a close, and this holiday season comes with a special merit. Along with reintroduction to winter, my relocation has placed me in an environment with the smallest support system to date. Well before the move, I knew the circumstance I was placing myself in. I knew the move would greatly refine and clarify my friendships. As I've always said, we have no contracts. We are free to follow our intuition, and are best served so to do. One reason for the move, among many, was to break new ground. To start from scratch, socially. As I begin my thirties, I enjoy the prospect of making fresh contact with like minded individuals. 2010 will surely be one of the pivotal years of my life.

Irrespective of faith, one thing cannot be denied . . cold weather or warm, the end of the calendar year sets the table for the greatest understanding of what matters most in life. Individuals place different amounts of stock in different compartments of their lives . . some will be overcome with grief at the absence of what means most to them. Yet even times of great sorrow can be taken as experiences of great understanding. My old friend Celso made it clear to me many years back; "Times like these, make you feel, most human". I've long found great peace in those words. Identifying pain, and from where it originates, is key in a persons mental well being.

I send my wholehearted thanks to the inspirational. To the men and women throughout history who took risks and marched to the beat of a different drummer. To those who saw the way the rest of society was doing something and identified its limitation. Those who speak only in truth, often appearing as a voice from the wilderness, risking all they've earned for the all-important purpose of righteousness.

To my family. My parents, grandparents and all who came before. To those who's DNA I am compiled of, whose great qualities I aspire to best represent. Who's hard work paved the way for all of us who came after. To my aunts and uncles who's influence continue to shape my parents and their children; my cousins, coast to coast, unique traits and multifarious journeys abound. To my brother; the greatest man I've ever known, and his incredible family . . beyond words.

To my friends. From New Hampshire to Boston, Maine to Connecticut, Los Angeles to Chicago, and everywhere in between. Though contact may be limited or even extinct, each and every person I've ever called a friend has had an incalculable impact on my life. On this planet of immeasurable personalities and perspectives, my time has been favored with invaluable opportunities to meet some of the greatest characters who ever walked. I am in each and every one of their debts.

Most of all, my heartfelt thanks to the love of my life. The dependable, commonsensical, delight of a woman who's devotion and comfort is unparalleled. The one who's energy has taught me so much about the human spirit, provided such harmony in a world of perpetual uncertainty.

The time I will spend in New England this coming month could not come at a better juncture. For those I will have the great pleasure of spending time with, it's been long overdue. For the rest, I shall enjoy the prospect of crossing paths in the not too distant future. All of my very best, as ever, to you and yours as we move forward.

Together.

PURPLE HEART

April 13, 2009. Monday. Opening day for the Dodgers at Chavez Ravine on a beautiful afternoon in southern California. Record breaking crowd on hand scaling between a steady murmur and a roar with the events of the day. The Dodger legends are announced and walk out on the field one at a time to thunderous applause. Next come the staff, trainers, coaches, and your 2009 Los Angeles Dodgers. Back to the stadium from a commercial break; roar temporarily subdued, voice of part-time play-by-play announcer Charlie Steiner begins to sound over the P.A. system. It quickly becomes clear who's being introduced. Today marks the first game of the 60th season Vin Scully will grace us with his broadcast. The intro ends with the greatest line Steiner has ever delivered;

"It is my great honor to introduce, quite simply, the greatest baseball broadcaster who ever lived, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Vin Scully" The place erupts like 1988 with Kirk Gibson rounding the bases pumping his fist. I had chills from head to toe as one of my true idols walked out on to that field.

When I left everything I knew in Boston, and arrived in Los Angeles late summer 2002, few things brought me a sense of home. First, there was the champion of all Mexican fare, Poquito Mas, but more importantly, the legend of the Dodger Stadium press box. When I arrived, the team was in the basement of the NL west. But the man with the resounding voice welcomed me to the southland, and tuned me in to Dodger baseball.

Fast forward 7 years, opening day, Vin is preparing to throw out the first pitch. "Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm Dodger Stadium welcome, to Los Angeles native, United States Army Officer recently returning from his second tour of duty serving our nation with the armed forces in Iraq, Sergeant Jeremy Ortega". Vin stands smiling next to the mound as the fully uniformed soldier makes his way forward with a limp in his walk and a cane in his hand. With in a few feet, the Sergeant extends his hand, Vinny steps forth, arms wide, and embraces our returning hero. I broke into tears.

A month or so later. I'm surfing the channels and I come upon a PGA open series event on one of the networks. Tiger, "Lefty", and many other superstars of golf are there, lining the fairway as an announcement was made.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please give a round of applause for United States Marine, recently returning from his third tour of duty protecting our nations' freedom in Afghanistan, quadruple amputee, Specialist Jeremy Carter". Sitting in a wheelchair, pushed down the center of the fairway, stumps for arms, stumps for legs. Dressed in uniform. Our war hero.

Chicago. August. Avenue Hotel. Men and women of varied ages, races, and disabilities fill the lobby. Some blind, others deaf. Some paraplegic, others quadriplegic. All bearing injuries from one of our current Middle Eastern conflicts. Governor Quinn, Mayor Daley expected to make appearances, offer some words of thanks at that nights ceremony honoring our veterans. The governor comes through for one half hour, the mayor couldn't make it.

I'm sure everyone has been exposed, either in person, or on television, to something like this. A soldier returns from war after suffering a life hampering injury in battle, and becomes a mascot for his respected branch of service. Purple Heart. Full discharge. Many thanks for your service to our country. When I became emotional watching opening day, it was the release of tension built up over many nights spent weighed down by the root causes of war. It was all the thinking I had done about the WWII generation and their children; our parents. Thinking about Vietnam. Thoughts of elementary school and Desert Storm. Our first televised insight to Middle Eastern events, though I was far too young to read between the lines. I thought of all the sacrificed Americans since the Revolutionary War.

Vin's embrace meant welcome home. Glad you're still with us. I know war is hell and life is a topsy-turvy ride. Thank you for your contribution. How many people in Vin's life have been effected by war? How many close friends has he lost during his 81 year ride on this planet? How many important men has he met? Politicians, Generals, religious leaders, soldiers, entertainers. Vin's reaction triggered in me the collection of so many stages and value systems I've held over the years. In my youth, I was very interested in getting involved in Military action and or Law Enforcement. I was intrigued by the strength and power one has in a position involving such authority. I'm sure the action movies of the 80s had a great deal to do with it, but until about ten years ago, brute force and American policy had my 100% support and commitment.

I've grown up a lot since then.

I hope that soon we will all be able to identify that the wars our nation involves itself in, are rarely, if ever, fought for the reasons written in our history books. I salute and support each and every member of the United States Armed Forces; and wish them all safety, security, and victory in all encounters. However, more than anything else, I want them to come home. I want them here with us, working to preserve our world from where they're most effective, from where they hail. Once we can collectively acknowledge the true problems we face in need of resolution, concentrate our energy on them; then we will be well on our way towards achieving our goals as human beings. My heart goes out to all those who have lost loved ones in war.

"The atom bombs are piling up in the factories, the police are prowling through the cities, the lies are streaming from the loudspeakers, but the earth is still going round the sun". -GEORGE ORWELL

THE SPIRIT

Soul. The essence of all living beings. The animation of the physical, energy of the heart, and spirit. No living person knows precisely where the spirit goes at the end of ones life. Many religions have come to many conclusions since the beginning of recorded history. This entry has nothing to do with the great mystery which begins at the end of our holiday on earth. Instead we will focus on the living spirit alive inside each of us, its power, and its potential.

For much of my childhood my dog Emma was one of my closest friends. During my formative years, a great deal of time was spent hanging out with her, learning her tendencies, her moods and behaviors. To me, dogs are the most user friendly way to begin to understand the soul in its living form. Dogs' senses of sound, smell, and awareness are generally more sensitive than humans'. In turn, they are very much attuned to our moods, feelings, and behaviors. Much like our ability to train a dog and predict its behavior, the dog is constantly learning about its owner, and the nature of man. Watching dogs reacting to people is a great pastime of mine . . the dog can tell from fifty feet away what you're all about. If you are afraid of dogs they will growl, snarl, bark and try to get after you. If you're on the level, they will pant, wag, and generally try to jump up and lick you. Have you ever seen a dog react to a crying member of your family? The dog can sense adjustments in attitude, the chaotic, dark, and confusing energy generated by sadness is like a siren to the dog. He senses the sorrow, takes one look at his owner, and moves to the furthest corner of the house. It's never pleasant to bask in the energy of sadness, for man or animal.

Though not part of school curriculum, we have the ability to read each other as dogs read us. We are the sum total of our thoughts, we generate our own individual connection to the world around us. We fine tune our senses each day based upon our own personal feelings and desires. If we hold no interest in people, animals, or nature in general; it will be impossible to advance our understanding and connection. But, as all you students of Earl Nightingale out there know, "we become what we think about". If we sincerely desire a connection to any aspect of life, the only logical result will be to achieve that connection.

Now, what is the point of identifying this energy? In what respect can this be put to practical use? Think about it. If we all worked to be more aware of the feelings and interests of the living things around us, might that alleviate some tension found in daily life on earth today? Of course this task is huge . . it might even seem impossible in lieu of the division found in our society today . . yet it is crucial. The only way to begin the arduous process of reversing the course of history currently underway, is for all people to see the world and its illnesses from the same set of eyes. So much of what we do is based on closing ourselves off from the world around us . . based on fear. As long as we continue to let religions, creeds, and boarders divide us, there can be no unified organization towards peace and preservation of our planet. We have the ultimate power over ourselves, through thought and action, and over the fate of our existence.

A few months back, HBO aired a particularly moving episode of Real Sports with Bryant Gumble. The segment most impacting revolved around a teenage girl named Jacklyn who had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor at age nine. She was a die hard lacrosse fan, and took great fascination with the women's team at Northwestern University. Her father sent a letter to the team, and soon there after she was made an honorary captain. She formed personal relationships with each of the players on the team, exchanging e-mails and text messages, appearing at as many games as she possibly could. The Wildcats won the women's NCAA championship the first season she was with the team. As the relationship between Jacklyn and the team progressed, so to did the teams success. To date, the Northwestern Wildcats women's lacrosse team have been NCAA champs 5 years running . . . all of the years Jaclyn has been a member. As her energy has lifted the athlete's around her, the teams energy has clearly made an impact on Jaclyn's journey towards a full recovery. With the mutually beneficial relationship identified, the young girl's father started "Friends of Jaclyn", An organization connecting critically ill children with NCAA teams. At the time they filmed the show, there were not enough sick children to meet the demand created by eager colleges and universities. The point raised by this fine story should be quite clear; the human spirit knows no boundaries . . . it has the capacity to overcome all odds. Our concentration of energy towards achievement can yield miraculous results, and wouldn't you know, it comes from within . . . It's up to us.

Once long ago, overwhelmed by the tragic loss of a schoolmate, I went to my father for solace. I asked him what he though heaven was like: how we might reconnect with loved ones, what it would feel like. His response was something to the effect of; "I don't think you can physically see and touch the people you hope to reconnect with . . . you can just feel their presence . . . like when I'm at the office and I walk around the corner, without seeing into a cubicle, I can sense a persons' presence". I was half my current age when we had this discussion but it clearly struck a chord. Since, we've had a handful of conversations about "the collected unconscious" which I've found comfort in over the years. It's all part of the same thing . . we are all part of the same thing. Our bodies are our temples, our vehicles for navigating this physical, finite, fleeting period of time on this blessed planet. It's the soul, the spirit inside each of us that is of greatest importance. We choose what to make of ourselves, our beliefs and actions based upon them will determine our individual composition, our contribution to the collected unconscious. They say something like 90% of illness is derived from stress. Stress is the product of our our own mental and physical reaction to the events of our world. As members of earths community, we are responsible not only for our personal surroundings, but for playing a role in the fabric of all events on our planet. Because we are all members of "the great flywheel of society", only in banding together in mind and spirit will we be able to make the push . . to create the change required to live in a world based, as god intended, on peace and love.

PUMP UP THE VOLUME

When I was a child, Sony debuted its Mega Bass technology. Other electronics manufacturers followed suit with their own versions; Bass Boost, Max-Bass, Dbb, Bass X-tend, etc. The majority of the music I listened to while growing up was hip-hop. Some of it was considered "gangsta rap" and centered on violence, oppression, and life in the ghettos of America. Most of the listening was done through headphones, plugged into a Walkman. Maximum volume, maximum bass, no sound distortion. All tapes, all day. In retrospect it's interesting, thinking of the hardcore lessons, messages, and beats drilled into my head from such depths of the underground. As I was growing up, right next to me was the evolution and commercialization of the art form. Before rap music became the new pop music, the education derived from nearly all recorded artists was incredible, especially by today's standards. In looking back, YO! MTV Raps is the greatest example of how times have changed. The videos played and studio guests were the best, and most respected of their time. Though rocking the freshest styles of their era, these men and women were on stage for their talents, not for the degree to which they sold out, how many commercials they appeared in, or how many award shows they attended. Can you remember when MTV stood for rebellion and original creative expression? It seems like forever ago. I guess it was forever ago.

In my early teens, I began to take great interest in movies, how they were made, and who made them. I was intrigued and clued myself into aspect ratios, film stock vs. video, filmmakers, actors, and perhaps above all, sound. Film scoring became a fascination of mine. Instrumental music, largely from the movies, was one of my first real passions. In my opinion, soundtracks remain one of the most under-appreciated forms of music in the world. In the beginning of middle school I began to fully understand the way stereo components worked. It was then that I connected my family VCR to the home stereo. Realistic brand receiver, wood housed 2-way floor speakers, Hitachi 4-head hi-fi stereo VCR. Bass. Treble. Volume. I credit this single move with generating my interest in film making. All of a sudden, watching movies at home became awesome.

Thus began the trend of Pumping up the Volume. I had been blasting music in my earphones for years, but this was the start of something new. This was also the birth of the "turn it down, it's too loud" people. From headphones, to automobiles, to home entertainment centers . . . theater quality and quantity audio became the benchmark. The only variable; noise pollution; interfering with others sleep, disturbing the neighbors. I'm not sure of anywhere I've lived since at home in high school where I didn't receive at least one noise complaint . . as usual, keeping it real yields disadvantages as well.

The theme of the essay is simply this; life happens in full volume. The events of your day do not have a volume control knob. When in a movie theater, at a ball game, or at a concert . . you do not have the ability to reach for the remote. The volume is loud and proud as it was designed to be. Whether you're seeing a country, hip-hop, or classical performance, the volume has been carefully engineered and calibrated . . and it is loud. When a lion roars, a fire trucks' siren is blaring, a crowd erupts in applause, or the sky explodes with fireworks . . there is no volume control . . or mute button. That is life happening, full tilt, full stereo surround sound. Nature, and the artists aligned with it, recognize the value of volume . . and the fact that the audience has no say in it.

We have gotten so very accustomed as a people to get what we want, just when we want it. We have "the power" to change the channel on news we don't want to hear, "to block" messages from those who's postings have gotten to annoying to bare, to select what we will from countless options worldwide. Immersion is the action. Absorb the world around you. Grab existence by the horns. Live life to its maximum potential. Turn the volume up, not down.

THE AMERICAN IDOL

We are members of the audience.

Most of us think we are participants. Others aspire to "become the change (they) want to see in the world" as Gandhi advised. But sadly, our collective circumstance stands firm; we are simply the audience. We watch from the sidelines as those in control make decisions which determine the direction of our nation, the course of our history, the fate of our planet.

Are you a subscriber to the "yes we can" presidential election policy? Do you believe once the president takes office, he acts in accordance with the people that "voted" him into the presidency? No . . he does precisely what he is advised by the handful of financial elites who supported and guided him from his earliest days in politics. This has been the trend, with no real sign of "change" anywhere on the horizon. Contrary to popular belief, the president is not "elected" to change the way the country is run. He is more accurately "selected" to keep things the way they've always been.

Since the beginning of my quest for truth, I’ve come across quotes from some of the greatest men in American history. The words of Thomas Paine and Thomas Jefferson drew my attention in particular. Upon arriving in Chicago I was taken by a statue of Abraham Lincoln on the east lawn of the Historical Society. The statue was unveiled and presented by Lincoln's grandson and namesake on October 22, 1887.

When we learned of the founding fathers in grade school, it seemed like the American Revolution was eons ago. Upon turning 30 a few months back, I was given new perspective on the passage of time. 30 is easy to multiply and use as a round unit of measurement on a timeline. Lets assume life expectancy will be around ninety by the time I get there (god willing). For this example of time passage; 1 Unit = 30 years, 1 Lifetime = 90 years.

The Civil War was fought only 1 1/2 lifetimes ago . . the Lincoln statue came 1 unit later. The Vietnam conflict came to its conclusion just over 1 unit ago . . WWII 2 units back. Thomas Jefferson just passed away 2 lifetimes back . . Paine less than a unit prior to that. The Declaration of Independence and Constitution of the United States of America were penned and adopted about a decade apart . . 2 lifetimes and 1 unit back. Hopefully, by this point, we are on the same page. Men stood up to be more than the audience not long ago, they spoke words of the greatest weight and backed them up, statues were erected in honor of them less than two centuries ago.

We the audience have looked at great men of American history on currency and in statues since birth, celebrated what little we know of their existence, and smiled about the "freedom" their sacrifices left for us. Other than a few profile busts and made for TV coins of recent commanders in chief, who was the last leader we held to such stature? Who took office and genuinely changed the way we looked at the position as he worked to actually fix some of the major ills of the world? Jack Kennedy? Before he was able to deconstruct the rogue American intelligence apparatus, he was killed by it. So when was the last time we looked up and truly admired, adored, and backed the president for all the right reasons? Lincoln perhaps? Maybe, though he too was hated by many and killed in sinister plot. Roosevelt? Truman? I would not like to face the demons in their closets, let alone carry the burdens of their actions while in office.

Could it be their has not been a truly celebrated president in so long because no one has had the brass to buck the system since our nation was at war with itself? I know, I know, "YES WE CAN". Lets explore the volume of Barack Obama merchandise out there. Frequently, images of our president appear next to the likes of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Some shirts include the likeness of Rosa Parks . . I’ve even seen some air brush work placing Malcolm X in the scene. Perhaps most ironic of all, silk-screened images of the president in the Rastafarian colors with the words "one love" printed underneath.

The true American Idol.

We the audience put this man on a god-like plateau months before the primary. How did he rise from obscurity to celebrity overnight? How can you explain a man raised in the society described in my last posting rising to the top of the free world with all that stacked against him? Easy. It wasn't stacked against him, he is not from that world, the ball has been in his court since his first day in politics. Perhaps the strongest race, with the greatest case for revolution, has been pacified. The people the president works for are the same ones with blood on their hands from executing true black leaders from decades past. The president is like the host of a game show, a news anchor. He is simply a weather man, in place to tell you the way things are, speaking about events beyond his control.

We must become champions of consciousness.

It is a choice that must come from within. We cannot campaign or advertise. There is no agenda or way to generate profit. Our cause should be dedicated to one thing, the common good.

The progression of our species . . .

The perseverance of all life on earth.

"Enlighten the people, generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body and mind will vanish like spirits at the dawn of day" -THOMAS JEFFERSON

BAD NEWZ KENNELS

Life and death.  Man and Animal.  Black and White.  Perception.  One of the key aspects in my desire to move to Chicago was to be in a more culturally diverse environment.  We love to consider America a melting pot of many cultures . . Los Angeles often gets credit for being the best example of this.  Well on the whole, we may be mixed in a pot, but little has melted.  Chicago, in my experience living in the United States, easily has the greatest variance of ethnicities and nationalities.  You've all heard of the rough and tough south side of Chicago, well the west side is not a featured destination either.  My new home is about a mile east of this "bad" part of town.  My neighborhood in Los Angeles was approximately ten miles west of South Central.  Both cities have huge black populations, and the "bad" part of town is where you'll find the greatest concentration. 

When I grew up Southern New Hampshire, there existed nearly a 99% caucasian population.  Boston, our closest major city, had a long standing reputation for racism.  From its large Irish contingency to long time Red Sox owner Tom Yawkey's well documented bigotry in management and player personal selection.  Growing up in the 80s & 90s, I was exposed to some of the greatest developments and expressions in Black American history.  I think I was born with an affinity for the underdog, from my earliest memories I was pulling for and amazed by the feats of the superstar African American.  From Kool Moe Dee, Eric B. & Rakim, and Public Enemy . . to Jim Rice, Andre Dawson, Hakeem Olajuwon, and Walter Payton . . posters decking my bedroom walls.  In all out respect and curiosity, I went forward and tried to learn what I could about black culture (hip hop turned out to be a much better source for truth than my public education on the subject).

Brand new to the Land of Lincoln, re-education on the man starts now. We've all been taught of  the Civil War, The Emancipation Proclamation and the rest.  I've made it a mission to fully realize our 16th president; his agenda and achievement.  As Union as Illinois is, it is easy to assume Chicago as one of the key areas of the first free black societies.  I've relished my new place among such a varied population here.  As many black men on the lake front bike path as white . . reciprocal respect.  In Los Angeles, on the whole, neither ethnicity showed much respect or interest in the other.  I see the strongest ambition amid strength in the black people of Chicago.  Former collegiate athletic standouts, leaders in discipline and industry.  Diversity breeds progress.  Chicago is it.          

The following exploration is rated "T"(for truth).

Approximately four hundred years ago, settlers in "the new world" began trafficking human beings from Africa.  Slave ownership and labor remained a common and legal aspect of American life until more than two hundred and fifty years later with the passing of the 13th Amendment.  The black race has been free from the bonds of slavery in the United States for less than one hundred and fifty years.  Do some quick thinking and you discover that wasn't all that long ago.  After "earning" their freedom, African Americans congregated in outlying neighborhoods of Americas largest cities. We can only imagine the conditions of this new found freedom and the tumultuous adjustment into society.  Try to imagine looking for paid work after generations of being housed, fed, told what to do and how to do it.  When one was fortunate enough to find a willing employer, how much less would they earn per day than an existing employee?  How long would this trend continue?  How would any such person or family make enough to move out of their impoverished surroundings?  Add to this one hundred years of segregation after two centuries and a half of slavery . .

Fast forward to the 1960s where the Civil Rights movement finally brings segregation to its official end.  CIA had been formed just over a decade prior, operations foreign and domestic well under way.  Blacks in America had proven themselves more than resilient since released from captivity.  Athletes like Jesse Owens, Jackie Robinson, and Bill Russell had been on stage for all the world to appreciate for some years.  Blacks were adapting to American society at a surprising rate, apparently not good for the powers that be.  It was time to bring illegal drugs to the ghetto.  For now we'll skip the in-depth study into which federal and local government agencies were directly responsible for this influx, but it's long past due that we recognize what has happened here.  Of equal importance, the assassinations of Malcolm X and Dr. King.  These conspiracies have been well researched and uncovered by many brave souls over the past 40 years.  Most information can be easily accessed for those willing to learn.  I may write at length on these events in the future, for now, I encourage all to begin unlearning what they have learned.  The same evil forces that have committed these acts are alive and flourishing in the world still today.  If

you don't know the past, you can't know the future.

So lets all accept that "urban" or "inner-city" life in America is common place for drug dealing and abuse.  Try to stay with me in following this thread of circumstance.  If not from the intelligence and military community, where would these government projects and ghettos come by such increments of narcotics?  Continue along and recognize that nearly 9 out of 10 prison inmates in this country are black and nearly 1 of 10 people in this nation are locked up.  Keep up with me and discover the majority of Americas largest prisons are corporate owned and operated, and business is booming. From shackles to cells; mental, social slavery.  Think it over.

So a short lived, confused, contaminated season of freedom for the black man in America yields unfavorable results.  Is is deliberate or an unwelcome side affect of Americas sad policies since the Civil War?  Race riots, gang violence, drug wars, urban unrest . . what strength is required to overcome such odds?  In what profession can a man rise above it all and move forward?  Professional sports. Entertainment.  You can cut your education short, focus on athletics.  So you have the abilities and talent to rise up and out of your impoverished environment . . but what about your crew?  Your friends and family? Recruiting begins . . cash, gifts, clout.  Your crew begins to reap the benefits, old habits become more elaborate and accessibility to all things increases . . . Drugs, Dice, Dominoes, Dog Fighting.

I began my blogging too late it seems to really slam the following point home the way I first intended.  The NFL season is in full swing and major media outlets and their followers are neck deep in fantasy football, weekly predictions, and overall Sunday fever.  But if you can think back just a few months you'll remember the biggest story-line to follow, other than Brett Farve's misadventures, was Michael Vick and his dog fighting ring; Bad Newz Kennels.  Check out the media frenzy these days over each and every development with Vick's return . . all is forgiven once you are back entertaining the masses. 

In my experience, American's will do everything in their power to do two things.  First, to avoid any form of original, independent thought.  Second, to find anyone else to point a finger at.  To concentrate as much negative energy towards another group or individual in efforts to distract themselves and like minded individuals from exploring their own shortcomings.  Racism, to a great extent can be boiled down to just this.  Keeping a creed at arms length.  Keeping a race of humans in a box.  Stereotyping an ethnic group to an extent that they might never break free and be known for their individual, unparalleled contribution to society.

Dog Fighting is illegal in all nations but one.  It is savage, violent, primal.  I do not have any statistics to back it up but I would venture that the United States is the dog capital of the world.  Personally, I have a stronger connection with dogs than anyone I know . . I am a self-proclaimed dog whisperer.  Yet, since the day the Mike Vick story first broke, I was his biggest defender.  Not that the activities he was involved in were acceptable or right, I was just ready from the jump to come to my own conclusions on the matter.  Pavlovian America was ready to react, all at the same time, all with the same mind.  No one has been trained, apparently, to value human life over canine.  In fact, it seems American dogs are more valuable than Middle Eastern human beings . . at least, that's what the media taught me.

My perspective on this matter has gone on much longer than I had originally intended therefore I will have to save my perception of our 43rd president and his role in all this for another day.  The smoke and mirror, sleight of hand "shell game" the media's been playing and projecting for nearly a century has to end.  An awakening at an unprecedented scale is required, the question is who will lead the charge in this effort?  What leaders in which fields will bring our national illness to light?  Who is willing to trade the comfortable lie for the cold, hard truth?  Understanding a problem is half way to its solution.

COLLAPSE

It was the first day of class, senior year of college; Boston, MA.  I woke to my phone.  It was Torino calling from Connecticut; "The World Trade Center's gone dude".  I turned on the local broadcast, twin towers standing, heavy black smoke billowing from the top of each.  "They're not gone bro, they're just smoking a bunch" I replied.

"That must be old footage pal, they're gone".

As you know, the backbone of my platform expressed in these posts is encouragement for everyone to think for themselves.  To identify what motives the media has which determine what they reveal to the public and why.  I hope we might all look upon the world from a fresh, unbiased perspective, a clean slate from which everyone can examine reality as it takes place.  So lets do this, clear our minds of all the lies and noise, erase the history you've been prescribed, take a deep breath, relax.  Relax in the knowledge that you are stronger and smarter than you've been given credit for.  You are unique from everyone else on the planet and have the ability, the duty, to think independently.

"It is not worth an intelligent man's time to be in the majority.  By definition, there are already enough people to do that." - G. H. Hardy

Eight years ago we were taken advantage of by the greatest power in the world.  We were cheated, lied to, hurt, many lost their lives.  More than a half century had passed since our nation felt such so violated.  Countless victims continue to feel the physical and emotional damages nearly a decade later, and will continue to suffer until their end.  Families, friends, first responders, firemen, police, citizens of New York.  The people of the United States.  The impact that sent shock waves through our culture has only scratched the surface when compared to the true implications and actual events leading up to and unfolding that day.

Before I go on I must make a clear point.  The evidence collected by some of the greatest thinkers and investigators, since that fateful day, is overwhelming to a point that the official story is little more than an insulting joke.  As our nation has fallen once again for a gross disinformation campaign, I hold no ill regard towards the misinformed on this subject.  In fact, the enlightened are so few and far between, it is a comfort to meet any at all.  However, those who receive a clear, fact based, well structured analysis via lecture, DVD, essay, or book, yet still refuse to open their eyes to truth . . to me, are lost.

So much quality research has been done by so many great Americans that I will leave the hard core intelligence and science to those who've already spent the time.  I will keep it quite simple and direct with just a few points.

Commercial Jet fuel, even if it were raining from the sky, even if the Trade Center was flooding with it, ablaze, would never burn hot enough to melt the core of a steel framed skyscraper.  It never had before, it never will again.  Building 7.  Sound familiar?  If not, don't feel left out, it didn't appear anywhere in the "official 9/11 report" either.  Why?  Because much like it's larger, older, brothers, World Trade tower 7 collapsed into it's own "footprint" late that tragic afternoon.  Yet unlike its fallen comrades, was not hit by an airplane.  It had two small fires separated by many floors, no excuse for its demise from the powers that be.  Do yourself a favor and find out just who held offices in Building 7.  You'll find the results quite interesting, especially in light of the agencies involved in investigating, reporting, and running war game exercises on and around that day.  Finally, you remember the grounding order given late that morning for all planes over American soil, right?  Well here's the kicker, the real kicker; that afternoon, the only plane other than Air Force One allowed to fly was a personal jet, departing Washington Dulles to the Middle East containing the father, and brother, of one Osama Bin Laden.  Both gentlemen had been enjoying breakfast earlier that day at at a Carlyle Group function including former CIA director, Vice President & later President; George Herbert Walker Bush.

I'd say I'm sorry to rain on your parade, but the parade has been raining on me for too long.  I'm not sure what the first sign of progress will be, but believe me, you will be the first to know when it shows itself.  The first step to freedom is the recognition of it's absence.  I implore you to take this opportunity, eight years removed, to recognise the true nature of the attacks of 9/11, why they were committed, and who was responsible.  The act of being a patriot has been twisted since that day.  Patriots stand up for what is right, they support the greatest common good, and work towards progress and peace.  Backing each and everything your government does is the opposite.  Only through evolution of thinking can our society discover the righteous path.

100

"Forget about the curve ball Ricky, give 'em the heater" -Lou Brown

In my youth, the battle of fireballers was headlined by Nolan Ryan and Roger Clemens.  The read from the radar gun was not prominently displayed as it is in today's telecasts.  Unless one of the announcers made reference, pitch speeds were a mystery.  No doubt both men had the ability to hit triple digits.  In modern coverage, more often than not, speeds flash after each pitch.  I'm not sure how long this has gone on but it was never more obvious to me until the emergence of Billy Wagner with Houston early in the new millinium.  In 2002, Wagner hit 100 mph on the radar gun 159 times, Bartolo Colon was second in the majors with 12.  Wagner working no more than 4 or 5 innings a week to tally such numbers.  One day mid-summer 2003, ESPN was playing a bonus day game between the Astros and Giants.  Barry Bonds was in the prime of his tear, two years removed his record breaking 73 home run season.  Today he was on the bench.  The 9th inning rolls around and the Astros are up 3-2, Wagner is called from the pen to close it out.  Two quick outs and a walk, Dusty Baker puts the bat, and the game in the hands of Bonds, pinch hitting.  I was never really mad at Barry, and always respected his bat, especially after the bomb he hit in game 2 of the previous years fall classic.  "That's the furthest ball I've ever seen hit" mused Tim Salmon from the opposing dugout.  So Bonds steps into the box, Wagner on the hill, goosebumps all around.  9 pitches; 100, 100, 99, 101, 100, 100, 99, 101, 100. Lights out Barry. Game Over.  Nasty.

7 years gone.  Late August 2009.  The Boston Red Sox sign Billy Wagner.  Goodbye Brad Penny.  Now don't get confused, I'm not expecting the guy to shatter bats like he did some years back, or for his arm to carry the Sox to the playoffs.  What I am expecting is a fierce competitor to liven things up a bit.  He is 38 years old coming off elbow ligament replacement surgery, but he's also a bad ass.  In between the Astros and Red Sox, Wagner threw for the Phillies then Mets.  Both teams came under the hard throwing lefty's heat at one time or another during his respective tenures.  Both instances lighting a fire under his teammates for apparent lack of heart or effort. In my humble opinion, both instances were warranted, especially the Mets.  His most recent rant came at the tail end of one of the Mets typical end of the season meltdowns.  He was in the clubhouse after another loss, one in which he didn't even appear, reporters all around, cameras and tape recorders in his face.  "Why you all crowded around me?  I didn't even pitch tonight . . why don't you talk to them? (gestures to the rest of the clubhouse, which is empty) oh, surprise, there all gone".  It is worth noting he was wearing a New England Patriots hat during the interview, right when the media was all over the "spy gate" scandal and the Pats undefeated season.  So here we are, the Red Sox fighting for a playoff spot.  A couple of smart moves around the trade deadline; Victor Martinez, the return of Alex Gonzalez, and now Billy Wagner.  As usual, Papelbon had something to say about the addition of a second closer.  Wagner's response to his negative remarks? Cool and collected.  Papelbon might be wise to sit down and learn some valuable lessons from the veteran if he is only mature enough to respect his elders (who have twice as many career saves).  The addition of Wagner makes the Sox pen look even more like an All-Star team.  Manny Delcarmen,  Takashi Saito, Hideki Okajima,Josh Bard (throwing 100 a number of times last night), Johnathan Papelbon, and now Wagner.  That is what you might call stopping power.

I'm sure everyone in New England is ready to jump all over this latest acquisition, compare it to the Eric Gagne pick up around the same time in the season a few years back.  Well, only time will tell . . but remember, Gagne tried his best to sink the Red Sox that post season, and we swept the opposition in the World Series.

THE SMOKE SCREEN

American society is largely based  on entertainment.  Distraction.  I am not equipped to compare our way of life with those of other nations.  Like many of us my scope of the rest of the planet thus far has been limited to second hand accounts along with what is seen on television and in film.  So, for this example I'll stick to speaking on a subject of which I am well informed; American interests. 

I was nine years old when Ben Johnson was stripped of his Olympic gold medal for using an unfair advantage to beat Carl Lewis in the 100M final.  The guy was a physical specimen looking more of an NFL running back than an Olympic sprinter.  This was my, and many others' introduction to performance enhancing drugs.  Of course this was not the first case or even the only obvious case of Steroid use in our society.  In retrospect, Sly Stallone displayed their use just three years prior in his fourth  Rocky film.  On screen, Ivan Drago is shown "doping" with the assistance and encouragement of his trainers.  In reality, by his own admission, Stallone has been a proponent of "responsible" use of Anabolic Steroids as well as the controversial Human Growth Hormone (HGH) for decades.  Now you must bear with me . . I have been, and shall forever be a huge supporter of Sylvester and most of his work.  His impact on cinema at large and specifically my generation is unparalleled.  However, this Rocky IV case serves as an excellent metaphor for the core of this address.  Cheating is okay so long as you don't get caught.  This is not my policy, and I'm sure it's not yours.  However, media history teaches us, recent history more so than ever before, it is the policy of the powers that be.  A recurring theme that will hopefully resonate with us all before long is the inextricable connection between government and mass media.  Stallone, American, long time user behind the scenes.  Drago, Russian, using for all to see in a movie rated PG.  Coincidentally, the same year Balboa KO's the Russian(s), Stallone's Rambo single handily re fights the Vietnam war (and comes out on top).

Now for the featured theme; The Smoke Screen.  Major League Baseball is one of my favorite institutions on the planet.  The grand game is perfect in most respects.  MLB is the highest echelon of the sport.  It is in fact the only top tier American corporation which holds my utmost respect and loyalty.  But, just like all institutions of the capitalist market based on profit, you will find skeletons in their closet.  Of course without transparency of government, you aren't likely to find them demanding it of one of their prized profiteers.  How then, can we take some of our champion corporations misdoings (lemons), and make lemonade?  Following the release of Jose Canseco's book, it was clear that a disorganized mess of information was well on its way to the public.  Far from a historian at the time, there was no way for me to predict just how far they would take it.  I'd always felt there was some kind of "safe list" out there . . a list of people so profitable and good for the American image they had an umbrella protecting them from any harm.  Though I still believe the list exists, I'm not so certain anyone from this era in this sport is on it (except Cal Ripken of course).  So here's how it breaks down as well as I can see it . . When attendance and profits (advertising, endorsements, marketing, etc.) are up, we'll look the other way, ask no questions, administer no drug screenings.  The most obvious example of this is, of course, Sammy Sosa versus Mark McGuire.  Just in case you missed it, in 1998 these two men made a mockery of Roger Maris' long standing single season home run record with physiques that had WWF wrestlers scratching their heads.  Just for good measure check out highlights from the '99 Home Run Derby from Fenway Park.  Dan Duquette, GM of the Sox at the time, said that even the baseballs were juiced by Rawlings.  Take a look at the speed and distance of those blasts and tell me if anything in the equation wasn't juiced!

"Oh wait!, Canseco wrote a tell all book, we have to do something.  I got it, get a slew of these guys to come to Washington in suits!  We'll pack the room with cameras and reporters!  Perfect timing!  They seem to keep asking about Guantanamo, Iraq, and Afghanistan . . we can turn the cameras around except instead of examining our own wrong doings, we can point fingers at these muscle bound morons! And check this out, we'll sick a former senator on the whole league with no parameters, no structure, and no ultimate goal in mind!  That'll teach 'em!"  Neither George Mitchell, or anyone else should have received such an assignment.  Of course at the end of the day you've got a well researched and documented list with the end result; "Okay we've got the list, Roger Clemens will take most of the heat, then we let things die down, talk about the tough testing and punishing needed in today's game, then drop the whole thing".

Flash forward, every body's hero Barry Obama is at the helm.  White Sox fan.  No arm.  Wars continue, economic turmoil, Fed up to their old tricks, climate in crisis, running out of oil . . .

"A-ROD CHEATED TOO!"  The day Alex Rodriguez faced the press to address the accusations, the president was busy sending 30,000 more of our boys to the middle east . . Why are we at war over there again?

"BIG PAPI AND MANNY RAMIREZ CHEATED IN 2003!"  How bout this one?  Testing of countless ball players that year revealed over one hundred failed screens.  All men tested were told the results would be kept confidential, and punishment would be handled accordingly.  Instead, the powers that be (in control of D.C., the media, etc.) have a new magazine of ammo ready to be fired at will on the other side of town when things are getting hot around the real issues of the day.  The greatest smoke screen in modern media.  Drugs are good when they promote spending and profit (check the stats on what the government makes on tobacco and alcohol), and bad when a cultural icon "cheats" and can provide a convenient distraction.  Good when the powers that be can profit in the billions of dollars, bad when a famous actor or athlete gets busted with Marijuana internationally.  Insiders know that in the MLB, for years, if you weren't cheating, you weren't trying.  I often muse on the tobacco use in baseball . . . there is no greater display of drug abuse on television yet not one word is written or spoken of it's danger.  Why?  This steroid fascination looks like it will hold a captive audience for a decade or so to come.  Watch for the hammer to drop on chewing tobacco around 2020.

STATE OF THE UNION

Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I am coming to you live from Chicago at the very start of what I like to call "Chapter 3". As many of you know, I celebrated my 30th birthday the morning I arrived here 8 weeks ago; the end of my journey from Los Angeles. Many contributing factors were involved in my move from the Southland to the Midway. Quality of life, physical surroundings, and a generally grounded mindset just to name a few. Though I hope this message reaches all corners of the galaxy, home base needed a shift. I had to move the eye of the storm. Recorded thought starts here and now for all who are willing to see. I hope everyone out there is in a good place, and taking steps towards reaching a better one.

The time to see things for what they really are is long past due. Conflict lies between substance and appearance alone. Reality versus perception. Truth versus fiction. The true problems of this world are far too big to fit into the petty conflicts of Fox News or CNN. Universal truth is real. No matter how you slice it, no matter how many twists are applied, there is only right versus wrong. We are not born with a clear distinction of the two, but we've evolved to a point where we know what to teach, why and how . . . yet we still fail to do so. Why? Why do we avoid cutting through the distraction, confusion, and disinformation? Why do myths come about and earn truth status after steady repetition? Someone once said "if you repeat a lie enough times, it becomes the truth". Major media prescribes a jaded reality to the citizens of the United States. Selective information revealed, selective omission of fact.

The Smog Chronicles.

The idea was sprung years ago with my introduction to Los Angeles and its mildly toxic desert climate. The city of angels, surrounded by wildfires, infused with excessive levels of carbon monoxide and all sorts of other unexamined emissions. Between the time spent cutting through the heart of the city in a topless jeep to the countless days and nights cruising the coast on two wheels, emergence of The Smog Warrior was imminent. I vowed to one day to record my experience, my philosophy, my perspective.

Out of the Smog. Into the Fog. All systems: Chicago.

Those I've remained in close contact with are well aware of my position on many issues of the day. This effort marks the inception of making those observations tangible. For friends and family I've not been successful enough to keep in close contact with, I hope this tool provides an avenue for greater understanding and relationships. I intend to explore genuine topics ranging from the depths of dishonesty to the bright light found in music, film, sport and so on.

Not long ago I recognized my responsibility. Either remain part of the problem, or become part of the solution. It's been said that one cannot begin to heal until they recognize they have an illness . . understanding a problem is half way to finding its solution. Recognizing the problem comes easy once we are willing to look at the world through new eyes . . from a different angle.

I hope through this, our new connection, we might start something big together . . an awakening, a revolution of consciousness. I will reference those of greatest influence in my life, attach links to relevant sources and stories from all corners of cyberspace, and continue to encourage growth, strength, and peace.