The other day, as has been the case for most of the last few weeks, wearing a backpack filled with my planner and this computer, I rode my bike 11 blocks North to my then-office, the Jacksonville Beach Library. Upon arrival, I realized that I had forgotten not only my computer charger, but also my bike-lock. Being that I had no charger and being that I needed to use the Library’s free Wi-fi to check email to see about some job search inquiries I was involved in (and fantasy baseball and facebook), I decided leave it unattended and unlocked for the 45 minuets it would take for my computer battery to die. When I returned, dead-batteried-computer in my sack, my bike was gone.
I sighed and thought, “that’s what I freakin get.”
Don’t be that Gimpy-Gazelle, always lagging behind at the water’s edge during the dry season. Believe me; ‘That Lion ‘el BITE-CH-YOU!’
Lions. Though I’ve never been to Africa, I’ve always been fascinated by lions from what I know of them from the Discovery Channel. How they fight. How they play and travel in Prides. It’s fascinating how they scheme at night. Observing, I notice that the only animals that ever feels the lion’s bite and ultimately fills their belly is the weakest of the weak of the more peaceful jungle animals such as zebras, antelopes, or gazelle’s. Beyond that, it seems that the Pride doesn’t even target the fast ones or the strong ones or the ones that stick with the group. Upon further research, however, I found that Lions aren’t in fact prejudiced toward gimpy, slow-running meat. In fact “Lions are opportunist hunters, and, after a careful stalk, will take the closest animal regardless of its age, sex or condition…” (link)
And what of the Gazelles – the Grasseaters. They roam across the countryside. Quietly; always together; their food ever-present; it seems as if they never need to squabble or kill or fight. It seems like they are at peace.
Grasseaters are the animals (or humans) who are content to live off of the bland, do-able facets of the world which are in abundance – on which one can survive all the way to death. They are peaceful beings, content to live on the Tofu Taco’s and veggie-burgers. “Wildebeasts are gregarious animals, and scattered individuals will often attach themselves to a herd of some other species…We have noted no aggressive behavior or display of any sort between wildebeests and other herbivores.” (From the book, The Wildebeast in Western Masailand, by Talbot and Talbot)
The way of the Grasseater is as if a good dream that can only be in that uber-world that I suppose most Liberal pixies exist. Socialism, as far as I can tell, is just that – a pareto-peaceful-Neverland that would be palatable if only all men were content with the lesser-life – the saltless, the ham-less, the WNBA existence of basketball without slamdunks, crossover-360-no-look-allyoops, and last second Jordan-esque heroics. But what the leftists – the Grasseaters – don’t realize is that the peaceful gazelle’s of the world need their gimpy counterparts to occasionally get picked off and devoured by the hungry lions that constantly ambush the herd. They need them because they would otherwise slow them down. They would otherwise disrupt their peace.
As I was walking home from the library that day I thought, “It was probably some bum (who stole my bike). I shoulda known. They’re always hanging around there. Afterall, it’s a free place to hang around if you’ve got nothing else to do.” (If you have no job or no money to blow someplace else – afterall, I was there too) I guess I trusted in the inherent goodness of people. Still, I shook my head and laughed softly as I thought of a quote I’ve kept from an old GSU professor – “If we make doormats of ourselves, should we be surprised when people wipe their feet all over us?”
So then, what is the answer? Darwinism? Ah, yes, the survival of the fittest. The old, the sick, the retarded and eternally injured ones of us – are better off dead. If they can’t keep up; if they aren’t savy enough investors; if they don’t have the UNMPH it takes to make it big or even scratch by in this world, then the world, then our whole human race is for the better if they are gobbled up and forgotten. That is the way, right?
No, that couldn’t be. We are not animals. We are understandingful, compassionate beings. That is what separates us from animals – compassion that is. So then the choosing few that can and do work our little knuckles to the bone will continue to do so. Through storming recessions and even in bull-headed-blue-sky wealth, tighten our grip upon the rope and bear the load of the poor and lazy and eternally sick and injured and retarded masses. We will sacrifice our hardworked-for freetime at soup kitchens and give to charity. We will always give-the-penny, never expecting to take.
Isn’t there a happy medium? Isn’t there a way to get mine but still give back. Socialism definitely isn’t the answer. Look at Russia. That didn’t work. Look at Kali-forn-yia (sorry Arnold). Back to Russia; it didn’t work because there are Lions amongst the peaceful herd and these individuals have a blood-thirst for the finer things of life - for power, for more than the bland diet necessary for mere survival. This is the system of difference that was created. There is an idea behind capitalism and that is that every man holds a self-evident truth – the pursuit of self interest. That is, each man, at his core, will act in the best interest of himself and the culmination of the actions of all men (whether in cooperation or in opposition) will be the result of the civilized economy of the whole. There is one statement-question that, to me, summarizes the dilemma presented here:
“To do what is best for all, is best of all, always?
But what do we do with the Gimpy-Gazelles?
I am in the process of starting a study of just that. The name of the study, the name of the to-be organization, the name of the fixinta-website is 1000 Phalanges. The idea is to develop an effective method to analyze the hopeless, the homeless, and the jobless person and then help him pull himself up so that he can rejoin the rest of us working, playing, contributing many - grasseaters and lions alike. This is not to be a soup-kitchen charity. It is to be a concentrated effort to pick up one worthy man or woman at a time. I will not knock off early nor quit my job (once I get a new one) to extend to this person. I will, however, sacrifice some of my extra time. A friend once told me in an email, “you’ve got to take care of yourself first, so that you will be able to take care of others.”
I sighed and thought, “that’s what I freakin get.”
Don’t be that Gimpy-Gazelle, always lagging behind at the water’s edge during the dry season. Believe me; ‘That Lion ‘el BITE-CH-YOU!’
Lions. Though I’ve never been to Africa, I’ve always been fascinated by lions from what I know of them from the Discovery Channel. How they fight. How they play and travel in Prides. It’s fascinating how they scheme at night. Observing, I notice that the only animals that ever feels the lion’s bite and ultimately fills their belly is the weakest of the weak of the more peaceful jungle animals such as zebras, antelopes, or gazelle’s. Beyond that, it seems that the Pride doesn’t even target the fast ones or the strong ones or the ones that stick with the group. Upon further research, however, I found that Lions aren’t in fact prejudiced toward gimpy, slow-running meat. In fact “Lions are opportunist hunters, and, after a careful stalk, will take the closest animal regardless of its age, sex or condition…” (link)
And what of the Gazelles – the Grasseaters. They roam across the countryside. Quietly; always together; their food ever-present; it seems as if they never need to squabble or kill or fight. It seems like they are at peace.
Grasseaters are the animals (or humans) who are content to live off of the bland, do-able facets of the world which are in abundance – on which one can survive all the way to death. They are peaceful beings, content to live on the Tofu Taco’s and veggie-burgers. “Wildebeasts are gregarious animals, and scattered individuals will often attach themselves to a herd of some other species…We have noted no aggressive behavior or display of any sort between wildebeests and other herbivores.” (From the book, The Wildebeast in Western Masailand, by Talbot and Talbot)
The way of the Grasseater is as if a good dream that can only be in that uber-world that I suppose most Liberal pixies exist. Socialism, as far as I can tell, is just that – a pareto-peaceful-Neverland that would be palatable if only all men were content with the lesser-life – the saltless, the ham-less, the WNBA existence of basketball without slamdunks, crossover-360-no-look-allyoops, and last second Jordan-esque heroics. But what the leftists – the Grasseaters – don’t realize is that the peaceful gazelle’s of the world need their gimpy counterparts to occasionally get picked off and devoured by the hungry lions that constantly ambush the herd. They need them because they would otherwise slow them down. They would otherwise disrupt their peace.
As I was walking home from the library that day I thought, “It was probably some bum (who stole my bike). I shoulda known. They’re always hanging around there. Afterall, it’s a free place to hang around if you’ve got nothing else to do.” (If you have no job or no money to blow someplace else – afterall, I was there too) I guess I trusted in the inherent goodness of people. Still, I shook my head and laughed softly as I thought of a quote I’ve kept from an old GSU professor – “If we make doormats of ourselves, should we be surprised when people wipe their feet all over us?”
So then, what is the answer? Darwinism? Ah, yes, the survival of the fittest. The old, the sick, the retarded and eternally injured ones of us – are better off dead. If they can’t keep up; if they aren’t savy enough investors; if they don’t have the UNMPH it takes to make it big or even scratch by in this world, then the world, then our whole human race is for the better if they are gobbled up and forgotten. That is the way, right?
No, that couldn’t be. We are not animals. We are understandingful, compassionate beings. That is what separates us from animals – compassion that is. So then the choosing few that can and do work our little knuckles to the bone will continue to do so. Through storming recessions and even in bull-headed-blue-sky wealth, tighten our grip upon the rope and bear the load of the poor and lazy and eternally sick and injured and retarded masses. We will sacrifice our hardworked-for freetime at soup kitchens and give to charity. We will always give-the-penny, never expecting to take.
Isn’t there a happy medium? Isn’t there a way to get mine but still give back. Socialism definitely isn’t the answer. Look at Russia. That didn’t work. Look at Kali-forn-yia (sorry Arnold). Back to Russia; it didn’t work because there are Lions amongst the peaceful herd and these individuals have a blood-thirst for the finer things of life - for power, for more than the bland diet necessary for mere survival. This is the system of difference that was created. There is an idea behind capitalism and that is that every man holds a self-evident truth – the pursuit of self interest. That is, each man, at his core, will act in the best interest of himself and the culmination of the actions of all men (whether in cooperation or in opposition) will be the result of the civilized economy of the whole. There is one statement-question that, to me, summarizes the dilemma presented here:
“To do what is best for all, is best of all, always?
But what do we do with the Gimpy-Gazelles?
I am in the process of starting a study of just that. The name of the study, the name of the to-be organization, the name of the fixinta-website is 1000 Phalanges. The idea is to develop an effective method to analyze the hopeless, the homeless, and the jobless person and then help him pull himself up so that he can rejoin the rest of us working, playing, contributing many - grasseaters and lions alike. This is not to be a soup-kitchen charity. It is to be a concentrated effort to pick up one worthy man or woman at a time. I will not knock off early nor quit my job (once I get a new one) to extend to this person. I will, however, sacrifice some of my extra time. A friend once told me in an email, “you’ve got to take care of yourself first, so that you will be able to take care of others.”
If you ever find yourself acting like a Gimpy-Gazelle – always whining and grumbling and excusing and lagging – you best change your balls and pull yourself together, ‘cause if you don’t,
That Lion ‘el BITE-CH-YOU!
Bad luck is for losers,
Be the Lion or learn to run with the herd,
Don’t be a Gimpy-Gazelle,
Do More Now
That Lion ‘el BITE-CH-YOU!
Bad luck is for losers,
Be the Lion or learn to run with the herd,
Don’t be a Gimpy-Gazelle,
Do More Now
