RARWRITER.COMô Presents the...

Dedicated to Intellectual Disobedience and the Pursuit of Understanding, the Last Bastions of Hope

   

        

Volume 1-2012                                                           

 

Lunar Eclipse 2010

 

 

Solar Flare (NASA)

2013: NASA anticipates large solar flares, possibly as large as the 1859 flares that fried telegraph lines throughout the U.S. and Europe

 

HOT THIS WEEK

FEATURES CURRENTLY AT RCJ

Are You A Slave? A Brief History of the Subject Suggests "Probably"

Moses, Wall Street, Human Nature and Grover Norquist

Concepts of Resistance - The RCJ Provides a Road Map for the OWS Movement

Lance Henriksen - World's Greatest Actor in Reflective Mode

Conspiracy - A Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the New World Order

Elections 2012

What Does it Take to be President?

Rating the U.S. News Readers

The Antidote to Michelle Bachman

Ship of Fools - Why Won't We Save Ourselves?

White House Solar Bomb

What Is Happening to Us?

The Cloud - What It Is

Background on Afghanistan

Economics 101

Global Economic Risks

Islamic Definition

Middle East

Second Amendment Remedies

Sam Broussard - Republicans

Treason

Why All the Zombies?

Gun Rights

Leadership Chronicles

 

FEATURED BLOGGERS

Is Belief In God a Sign of Weakness?

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher of RARWRITER.com and the Revolution Culture Journal.

No, but it may be a signal for help, and not necessarily in a bad way.

God is a construction of peoplesí need to have an organizing influence in their lives, standards to live by, and some reason to carry on. In all of those ways, God and everything that comes with it Ė the afterlife, sense of well being and spiritual comfort, and purpose in all things Ė is truly helpful to people, as various studies have seemed to indicate. Belief is powerful, almost regardless of its details.

That God, and the belief therein, is a signal for help is endemic to the genesis of the subject, if you will pardon the pun.
Read Post - Comment

 

Letter to Conservatives: The Party of Wealth Ė Theirs
 

Sam Broussard - Writer, Songwriter, Musician, member of Steve Reilly and the Mamou Playboys

 www.sambroussard.com

Three of the front runners for the Republican nomination are now just memories, pundit fodder: Huckabee and Trump, and Palin recedes into political tinnitus. But the retiring of all three has one thing in common, and itís money. Huckabee just bought a huge house in Florida and is enjoying his status and salary at Fox News. Trump is more at home on his reality show. And Palin is enjoying both Fox money and reality TV and will probably be the next Oprah Winfrey, although sheíll never get more than twenty percent of the viewers because only that percentage of Americans can identify with her spunky pride in her ignorance. And yes, sheís pretty.

Read Post - Comment

_______________

We Need A New Party!

Kenny Lee Lewis - Member of The Steve Miller Band, Guitarist/singer/songwriter, Novelist/screenwriter' www.kennyleelewis.com, www.stevemillerband.com

I am a rock star. Ok, ok, I am in a band with a rock star.  I am also a husband, father of three daughters, and a small business owner who pays his taxes like anyone else. I never got into politics until the last election and wrote and produced a non-partisan PSA video for Comcast called ďGet Out and VoteĒ to help assuage voter apathy throughout this ailing nation. I didnít vote for either one of the major candidates in 2008. I am all about trying to rally everyone to start voting again so we can possibly support a third political party that makes sense. If we can educate and get people out to the polls again, I believe that there could be a groundswell of voters who could turn the tides in future elections.
We need a party ďby the people and for the peopleĒ. As corny as that sounds, it is a precept that our nation was founded upon and if we are to lift up and resuscitate this
suffocating political system, we are going to need a leader who actually leads rather than folds like a cheap stroller just to please his partiesí special interests.

(Use the link below to read Kenny's entire post (© Kenny Lee Lewis, 2011 - All Rights Reserved).

Read Post - Comment

____________

The RCJ Posts Issues Questionnaire on Obama - Obama 2012 Ė Where Do You Stand?

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher of RARWRITER.com and the Revolution Culture Journal. He is also proprietor of A&E/IT Consulting firm Rick A Rice Consulting.

The Revolution Culture Journal (RCJ) invites you to participate in a little experiment to help us understand public perception of President Barack Obama, particularly as it relates to enthusiasm for his re-election in 2012.

We have identified 34 issues in U.S. foreign and domestic policy and devised a scale to determine how well respondents feel President Obama is doing with each. Use this link to go to the questionnaire.

Read Post - Comment

____________

Bechtelís Long-Term Commitment to Nuclear Disaster

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher of RARWRITER.com and the Revolution Culture Journal. He is also proprietor of A&E/IT Consulting firm Rick A Rice Consulting.

Somehow the idea of using nuclear fission, and eventually nuclear fusion, to boil water, produce steam, drive turbines and produce direct current electricity has found its way back into the list of acceptable alternatives as an environmentally friendly solution. This bit of Houdini depends entirely on comparison to power generation through the burning of coal, which produces carbon emissions and is a primary contributor to rising levels of greenhouse gas (GHG) in our choking environment.

Read Post - Comment

___________

Applying Grover Norquist to Corporation Intellectual Starvation

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher of RARWRITER.com and the Revolution Culture Journal. He is also proprietor of A&E/IT Consulting firm Rick A Rice Consulting.

In my career as a consultant, I have all kinds of opportunities to interact with different personality types at different levels of organizations. Some of these are of the kind that might make others feel that life is not worth living, but the advantage of consultancy is that my involvements are focused, short, and generally sweet, and then I leave the office dramas behind for a quick dip into the next kiln of opportunity. I am like a merry mercenary in that way, unexposed to the daily grind of the organizations with which I work.

Staff people, on the other hand, are subject to hierarchical structures and personality profiles, and their critical path issue is: a) whether or not to stay in the roles they are in, given the odds of rising up to a more satisfying position within the organization; or b) to cast their fates to wind, which is the job market.

So much of life happens at the initial sell-in.

Read Post - Comment

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Appointment with Disaster - Republican Domestic Policy

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher of RARWRITER.com and the Revolution Culture Journal.

While the rich are enjoying tax breaks they have no need for and U.S. corporations are holding on to record profits, padding their accounts to ensure that this is not their rainy day, but doing little to further the employment and domestic security needs of United States citizens, word comes that we are running out of money to provide help for a growing population of homeless (see the Huffington Post on this date).
Read Post - Comment

___________

 

Welcoming the Arab Street to U.S. Foreign Policy

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher of RARWRITER.com and the Revolution Culture Journal.

I was all set to thank the progressive Arab world, or at least the 25 percent of it that is situated in Egypt, for taking charge of U.S. foreign policy and forcing it to make sense. Then those pro-Mubarak thugs showed up and shocked the global community back to reality.
Read Post - Comment

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Why Your College Student Can't Read, Write or Even Think

Rick Alan Rice - Publisher, Writer, A&E / IT Consultant

Back a hundred years ago, when I was in college, all the guys who were doing the best in the classes I took all seemed to be Viet Nam veterans going to school on government grants. They tended to stand out because they were older and far more experienced than their classmates. It seems unlikely that they were brighter, but they were fundamentally different in terms of focus and perspective in ways that seemed obviously helpful to them.
Read Post - Comment

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GOOD VISITS: Sites
Cracked.com
 

 

 

 

VERSE

 

I wouldn't try to kid anyone into believing that I am trained in, or even very knowledgeable of, poetry. Aside from a few of the classics, I have tended to find poetry precious and false, too often carried by the dramatic form itself. It is as if there are beats and pauses and resolutions that are framework-independent of accompanying words. Plug in some sentiment and edge and voila! -- you have poetry!

That said, I view lyric writing as a poetic form, and certainly aspire toward poetic ends. Exhibits are included here.

* * * * * *

I have come to regard "The Clues" as my own Dante's Inferno, a descent into the nightmarish confusion of broken heartedness, including eternal pain.

The Clues

©RAR 2008

I was young and not too quick to
Pick up on the clues that you threw
Took me by surprise when
You told me goodbye

It seemed like time stood still
Like I was locked inside a vault of timeless
Pain - My own weight crushed my bone to the
Relief of polished stone

Then a gouging curse engulfed the sky
The birds above began to cry
And lovers clung to reasons why
They shouldnít cease to give

A dark bird flew across the sun
Somebody pulled a shiny gun
Another cried ďHe is the one!Ē
Another mugged the holy bum

I was young and not too fit
The clues were round me thick as brick
I didnít have the first idea
What to do with the best of it

With all that time to fill
I locked myself inside the halls of dark
Until my eyes sealed over and
I groped in constant night

Then aroused I woke and cut the binds
And called your name and drank your wine
And wrote all day and night with you
In mind like broken hearted do

Then morning came and I arose
And put aside my sullen pose
And walked into the morning sun
And held my ground

All my life you been around
Pain, ugliness is all Iíve found
This life ainít sweet enough
It lasts too long and itís way too rough
My love is waiting for you

This life ainít rich enough
It costs too much and thereís too much bluff
My love is waiting for you

I was young and all alone
And couldnít get you on the phone
It caused me such alarm
You never seemed to be at home

It seemed like moss grew round my brain
And I behaved a bit insane
I cursed at God and punched the sky
But I could never really cry

I carry you inside me yet
A tortured thing I canít forget
A bit of me got lost in you
The way that stupid people do

But time has come, time has gone
And took away my holy bond
I canít believe, I cannot love
Iím still the lonely one

All my life you been around
Pain, ugliness is all Iíve found
This life ainít sweet enough
It lasts too long, itís way too rough
My love is waiting for you

This life ainít rich enough
It costs too much - thereís too much bluff
My love is waiting for you

 

I Can Hardly Believe How Hard It Was to Be Me Before the Internet 

©RAR 2007

 

I can hardly believe

how hard it was 

to be me

Before

the Internet

 

For those who would like information, click here...

 

Riding On A Zephyr 

©RAR 2005

 

Riding On A Zephyr is a song born of a childhood memory. There used to be a passenger train that ran between Chicago and Denver called the Denver Zephyr. (Zephyr was the Greek and Roman God of the refreshing west wind.) There it became the California Zephyr for the leg from Denver to Oakland. For reasons now lost to me, my mother and I rode the Denver Zephyr when I was a kid in the late 1950s and in memory it was one of those foundation events. Though the line had operated since 1931, the Zephyrs seemed like real Cadillacs in their day, symbols of American technological wonder. To me, looking back, they represented the confident plunge into the future that was the American experience of the 1950s. History, however, didn't stop at that moment of serene naivetť. As a nation, we were in the grip of historic events. I could see it in my own family, as my father in his career was swept by a wave of technology that carried him from the age of television to the race for outer space. Along the way something went terribly wrong -- for all of us. That is what Riding On A Zephyr is about.

 

It started on a military base

Right outside of East St. Louis

Daddy was a radio man

It was nineteen fifty-two

 

Momma was a small town girl

By way of Oakland, California

All they had in common the mistake

Who is singing now to you

 

Everyone around us there

Was black as night, dark as murder

Everyone was poor

The men all dressed in uniform

 

Living there among them

We didn't really fit in but we tried to be friendly

That's how it was told to me

When I was old enough to hear the tale

 

After the Korean War

Daddy decided to leave the service

We headed for Nebraska

And the cold Nebraska plains

 

Riding on the Zephyr

Riding on the hope of a nation

Trying to get better

Than we had ever been before

 

Riding in to modern times

Tuning in to The World of Tomorrow

The new frontier

And revolution on the way

 

Midway through the time of Eisenhower

Daddy was part of a television age

Cathode rays, vacuum tubes and solder

Fixing a beam on the atomic rage

 

We were living on a tree-lined street

In Lincoln across from Tom, Dick and Harry

You could say these were innocent times

Everybody seemed to same

 

I think that we were happy then

But the best to come was just around the corner

Wind was sweeping under our wings

And there was magic everywhere

 

Riding on the Zephyr

Riding on the hope of a nation

Trying to get better

Than we had ever been before

 

Riding in to modern times

Tuning in to The World of Tomorrow

The new frontier

And revolution on the way

 

Soon enough a change was made

We picked up and moved to Denver, Colorado

Daddy got a job engineering

The mighty race for space

 

Momma's hair was turning silver

Though she was only twenty-seven

She didn't seem to mind

She was living in the laser light of day

 

Then in nineteen fifty-eight

There came along a little brother

Everything revolved around

Our nuclear family

 

Don't adjust your TV set

The vertical hold or the horizontal

We control the whole thing

All you have to do is sit

 

In a new dimension we were

Getting up early to see the launches

Titan, Mercury and Apollo

We were gilded in the flames

 

Sunning like a movie star

In our back yard with all the young mothers

Momma like a debutante

In those gold Colorado days

 

A whole generation asking

What can you do for your country

Then one day in Dallas

The answer came rumbling from the sky

 

The crack in the cosmic egg

Ripped with a sound out of Dealey Plaza

Pieces of the President's brain

Splattered on the ground

 

We saw it as a nation

We saw it on our TV screen

This place we all thought we were headed

Was not quite what it seemed

 

After that things started to get ugly

We went back to war, off to Viet Nam

Things began to feel quite different

In the home of the brave and the Promised Land

 

The world turned and it kept on changing

You could see it in the way people wore their hair

You could hear it in the streets where the protest was raging

You could hear the poet's howls in the liberty bell

 

And so it showed in the New Republic

And so it showed in the New York Times

And so it showed in the neighborhood theater

It was way too late for us to change our minds

 

Martin Luther King on a balcony in Memphis

Bobby Kennedy at the Ambassador Hotel

Mayor Richard Daley on a hot night in Chicago

Richard Nixon on a cold night in hell

 

A small step for man, a giant leap for mankind

One too many slogans, one too many lines

One big blowout up in Woodstock

One too many holes shot in our Altamont minds

 

Riding on the Zephyr

Riding on the hope of a nation

Trying to get better

Than we had ever been before

 

Riding in to modern times

Tuning in to The World of Tomorrow

The new frontier

And revolutions fade away

 

Now I'm old and it seems like a movie

The way a smile disappears from a face

We never got to Canaan, never got to Canterbury

All we pilgrims got was the human race

                                            © RAR 2005

 

©Rick Alan Rice (RAR), January, 2011

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