
Imprison People Because Jobs and Taxes: Michigan Value?
There’s money to be made, and there are jobs to be created, by imprisoning people. And there are many private, for-profit companies feeding at that trough.
Is that a Michigan Value?
There’s money to be made, and there are jobs to be created, by imprisoning people. And there are many private, for-profit companies feeding at that trough.
Is that a Michigan Value?
What do we resist? We resist job losses. We resist wage stagnation. We resist corporate welfare. We resist corruption. We resist cruelty. We resist dictators.
We resist Republicans.
Channelling is an important element of the tax system. We have no other way of rewarding – therefore, encouraging – good behavior. And we can’t punish – therefore, discourage – bad behavior except by making it illegal, and our Constitution and other rights often prevent us from doing that.
Everybody on one side says everybody on the other side hates Donald Trump.
No, I don’t hate him.
To be most charitable, I don’t care about him enough to hate him. I know other people who are crude or selfish or conceited or overbearing or loud or crass or ignorant. I’ve responded by ignoring them.
No, I don’t hate Trump. But I do hate – wait, let me think… yes, I do hate what he has been doing.
The story of America cannot be told in terms of what we are or what we have been. The American story is that we are a people in motion – we are going someplace. Someplace better than where we are or where we were. It’s not about where we are, it’s about the journey we are on.
It’s not about what we are, it’s about what we are trying to become.
Into this world came this song. It certainly wasn’t on the radio, but I had bought the album – my second Dylan album – and listened to it, late at night, in the living room, on the hi-fi console, with my headphones on, in stereo.
When I first heard it, it was just “the next track” on the album. But halfway through, I stopped and moved the needle back to the beginning. I listened. Then played it again. And again. And again.
I learned, in 5 minutes, about poverty. Farming. South Dakota. Pain. Helplessness. Desperation. Terror. Loss.
Saturday night would have been the time to shift to a wholly-positive campaign. To inspire voters. To call them to “Yes, we can”, “We Dare to Dream”, and “We have before, we will again”.
Burke’s book was a great introduction, for me, to the central tenets of the Deadhead community – that sense of sharing, of helping one another, of finding your place within the world around you, and of keeping that place intact against the familiar pressures of everyday living.
More than just a story – though certainly an interesting and entertaining story – F.T. Burke’s “The Bohemian Adventure” shows us how we can grow, even in middle age, to re-center ourselves into a sense of purpose and value. That value isn’t found in ourselves as solitary individuals, but in the community of like-minded people, sharing among that community.
We are now being tested, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. What progress we have won seems to be slipping away, not by the natural forces of time and change, but by the sinister forces of greed and wealth and power and deceit. Like our predecessors whose radical ideas have gone before, we must persist.
But for the 24-hour political newscasters, the Iowa caucus results were a panic moment. And now, 36 hours later, they are still mumbling and grumbling, talking about apps and coding problems and the horror of having to wait.