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CEE’s Life Matters; All Others Pay Cash

CEE

“...the prospect before us then, is a world of Andersonvilles, of jailors concerned only with executing the commands of their masters, afraid of their conscience, concerned only with the masters, to whom they have lost their souls.”

—William Shatner, The Andersonville Trial (1970; PBS)

    Me, watching The Above: “Does it come with a shuffleboard package?”
    ++
    Just to be a historical spoil sport about it, IF I’d been alive then, I’d’ve voted for Nixon, in 1960. Dewey, in ‘44, maybe not ‘48. Hughes, in ‘16. Hearst, in ‘04. And William Jennings Bryan, in both 1896 and 1900. The last, is my soulish proclamation, “I Am A Populist!”, as I douse you all in the baptismal of my POV. “I believe as I do, STFU.” A breathprayer, easy to memorize. I expect that to be your creed, cradle to grave. And, it is. But rare is the one with insight, who realizes their soul comes first, as really, is there anOther? Can any of us know? Too many of you fear that creed, until conflict arises, then in transference, you embrace your Adonis Creed or Apollo, abandoning your Rocky for a face not as vulnerable nor open.
    Many reading, live as did Maude Findlay, with her good intentions and noble causes and sour mouth and soul. I give Norman Lear credit—he tried, with Maude, to blow up the high-toned liberal and the papier mache of its heart. Lear, positioned, monied, knew human work took dirty hands. Not like Archie Bunker’s. Willing hands. For that, you need hearts and minds. For those, you have to win them. And here, Bryan and I step in, staid yet independent, and say, “convince us, this Way of yours?” And when that fails, we expect to walk away with our perspective intact. Which is why more and more guns are blowing away more and more persons. There are myriad details in the moments of myriad lives, but the pressure-pull of the trigger sings, “By GOD, I HATE Your Perspective!” And, insisting anyone, any person, let alone group, “matters”...at all, let alone Hog The Halogen Searchlight until I’m bawling for the nurse to turn me over...well. No. The reasons vary. Most, are that we all have lives. Lives, are busy things. You mattering as We Are All At Sugar Cookie Parity, will have to wait.
    If you don’t think I understand the emphasis in affirming one group over another, to the exclusion that Only That Group, should be afforded attention...to most of us, topically, to said group, intrinsically...to us, “yes, any singling out and persecution is understood, we’re on it, Human Family, Home Team”, to the Group, “please Get It Through Your Heads, a person is a person is no difference nohow, i.e. SEE ‘ME’, goddamitt!”...well, yes, of course, I understand the emphasis. I think it’s come a bit late on the timeline, and by that, I mean, too late. The new DSM, threw out Narcissism as an actual “personality disorder”, don’t forget. That’s because, to recap, such a way of approaching the world, is far, way common, now. Paris common. Gwenith common. Harrison he’s-annoying-doing-it-as-a-geezer common. Clooney. Hillary. The Donald. Sarah Silverman. What my pedestrian, small town-bred Dad called, “Wellll, smell me!” These role models, generously provided by a 9000-channel universe and the 21st soap it sells, have a kind of “rubbing off”-effect...even if (mainly the young) have to jump, Circus Charlie through flaming hoops, to win “Nice adulting!” posts for having performed a minor service. Fact is, only a final, back to back Custer’s Stand-bunch, will champion HATE, but it takes a bit more to “see” others in an active sense which doesn’t involve a double whipped moca java cherry limeade cappuwhatzis dingleberry triple cream enlightened dark two-shit rich chickory with choco sprinkles, hold the chickory. In short, the Greenwich Village “I Love You and Respect You and Value Your Soul”, melts into the heat of the street after any sharing of aphorisms, as people have lives to live, what a concept!...and, you may be my brother, but you’re also heavier ‘n shit, as I have groceries, I’ve gotta walk six blocks, then I have laundry to pick up...y’know? So, hey, luvluvluv, it’s nice to care, but gotta run, gotta pick up th’ keed! We’ll get to how your humanity will sit, ingrained in our 9-5 souls, at the next meeting. Probably month after next, ‘cause we’ve got the polar bears on the next agenda. James Cromwell’s serving wheat germ pizza.
    I tell you in my usual confessional, okay, I care about others, but I don’t care about them, really, in the way I think most people command other people to love Other people (what a twist, M. Night!). Demonstrably, see, I am not You, and You are not Me. Oh, we can play the “if you cut a CEE, does he not bleed?”-game, but I don’t recommend it, and I’m just guessing, but I’m pretty sure when my time comes, it’ll involve something wrong-turned and stupid like that. The point being—and please throw out any word games from college, as they ARE GAMES, Chumly, word’s out—each individual human person, is in fact a singular identity, and each owes no debt and keeps his own tab (word to Louis CK, name the place, my choice is brass knucks). When we eliminate tribes and peoples, “teams” and schools of thought, Earth becomes then, the sum of Keep Totting Billions of the parts, each selfdetermined and independent. I admit, were that realized, you might indeed have Hobbes’ worst nightmare, the free-for-all Looney Tunes ball of dust, with all killing all...but take heart, you know damned well I speak in concept, and we know this won’t happen. Those who seek justice for Others via the “Let me finish!” method, or birthed by sweat of The Next Guy, a dusty one seen proclaimed in front of Abe’s Ephesian colonnade, in footage increasingly Cold War and grainy, won’t see that dream, either. Or any mulberry bush danced ‘round. Here we all are, but there can be no accord, because plenty humans only believe (short list) lives matter, and legions believe (longer list with definite gaps) lives matter, and others go further, line item down to “just get rid of these leaders, 1,2,3” or “only (you know what color) matter!” That doesn’t take into account fringe elements, let alone the CEEs of the world, who think your life matters, if the check clears. I’m very “what have you done for me lately?” The tallest kid through all the grades, I never extorted anyone’s lunch money, but local merchants tell tales of elongated stares which sent shivers through them, when they’d blatted the wrong thing at the adult Me and knew it. Yes, that’s all very personal, I know, hold the solipsism, you say. I can’t. We’re all guilty of it...and that admission, is as universal as it gets.
    Those who openly march in antithesis to any lessons we’re supposed to learn, are few, and they are reviled. Those who harbor hatred, or wish a bully or an advocate with a fist full of fist, are many, and these merely wait. As with all crime, HATE has gone indoors. And short of policing all minds and playing right into the hands of Late Great Planet Earth survivalists, it’s a wo...a nation, of “just wait, asshole”, a-happenin’. Open lip service is given by fewer, if you notice. Specified lip service, down to the syllable, ignites no epiphany, but tinders hidden infernos. Again, to get all “Self” about it, if the movement on many campuses, per very definite, proscribed thinking and None Other, found its way to my door? I think that would do it, for me. I think that, yes, would be my headline, my life initialed at that point, question or comment? Because there exists no YOU MUST, when it comes to the ‘what’ or indeed the ‘how’, of a human mind, its path, its negotiating a way through the world. Good old Dad, he pushed me the military. I told him no, as “the instant I got there and they started screaming at me, I’d say, “Well! Screw this!”, and start walking toward the gate...only, I wouldn’t be allowed to leave. And, I have a problem with that.” It’s why I never open the door to uniformed officers, either, if anyone’s paying attention. Next time, men, use a battering ram, because you’ll die of old age waiting to be Joe Friday, at my door.
    If you were to ask the imponderable, re: “equality” of CEE, you’d get the statement, “yes, but it comes down to good behavior and deportment”, and from that standpoint, any street anarchist with a placard, walking in a circle chanting goofwad non-rhymes, may as well be a lower life form. If you said “equal treatment”, again, yes, but it still comes down to behavior, and that breaks down differently for many of us. As Pat O’Brien says in The Quiet Man, “The proprieties at all times!” If a person steals your wallet, I’m okay with equality, if I can pretend to study a treetop and not be a witness; if he steals mine, he’s total scum and I want 16 bullets pumped into him. If I see him outside my home in darkest night, I’ll be telling our finest he hit his head against the fence nine times because he kept tripping; if I see him outside your home, well, don’t you wish you’d given me that ride, when it was below freezing as you drove past? The level of disregard in the Above models, is palpable. I maintain that’s the balance of Americans, grass roots, neighborhoods, church pews, lunch pail. That’s the beast, here, now, today. Almost everyone, simply knows better than to hold a fist to the heavens and play the antihero. To be analogous, if you can’t or won’t marry gays, schedule them all for your day off, like many doctors do Medicare patients. Let your coffee and doughnut gophers do their real jobs. Any enemy of your perspective who then still insists, preschool screamer, “Naw, SHE’S gotta do it!”, is batshit crazy, and should be treated as such. Don’t forget, any merchant has the right to refuse service. Oh, gee, they’re stuck in snow drifts, again. You know, the day they ran that three-wheeler all afternoon, annoyed the piss out of me...
    You’ll tell me you’re not this person. No, I doubt you are. Mostly not. Pretty much not. You’ll nod to concepts of brotherhood or love or caring or lending a hand, but it’s Jimmy Carter you’ll want to drive the nails, while you grin larger than his best, 1976 photo op and think, “I’m here with Jimmy Carter, uuuuhhh...” To cull from Christendom, as A.W. Tozer wrote, “We want to be saved, but we insist that Christ do all the dying.” It’s a statement I’ve made for at least six years, that there are but scant Little Red Hens, yet too many scream for their supper. This includes showing love and believing that all are One. It includes holding respect in our hearts. Me, I don’t give a shit if you look like Grace Jones or Dolph Lundgren, you’re not me, you didn’t pay my property taxes and were going to leave us to die, so in the cosmological spin of roulette, I’m hoping like Hell, for a Judgment. I’m makin’ the sandwiches for it like Peter Pepper, leveled up. Most people, aren’t so vengeful or bitter or Cartmanlike, about The Other. Most, are “busy”. And, “busy”, often stated as “it’s just been ‘real crazy, ‘round here”, is in reality, apathy. A shrugging of shoulders. “What can ya do?” But like the Little Red Hen’s selfish pals, each intent on slavish work done by anOther, so to enjoy its reward.
    This life, though devoid of true virtue, is its own reward. No one makes that life for you, or paves the path set ahead. The only way to accomplish such, is utter totalitarianism, either through world bondage of near-all, or complete subsuming of our will through entrapping our minds via tech. It’s one of those, either/or, or this one hates that one and that one shoots the other one, and the one over there cries and starves, and some others live in fear and dread. If you’d like to play Three Card Monte on the official, CEE Choice, I don’t champion the current maelstrom of humanity’s mass tearing one another to shreds. No way. I’d rather have the world be controlled, en toto, all marionettes on strings. It’s what selfishness buys, and it’s what lying about your selfishness, deserves. So, bring on Big Brother and hail the conquering despot, for, yes, I believe personally, in the holy wrath of a bully God, but just in case I’m wrong, nonfriend, I’m not about to miss out on being Taylor Negron in Bruce Willis’ face. So, get it over with. Thrill me. One scream, and use it well, to tell the truth of ‘who’ you are.
    CEE

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