Rock Accountant

Month: June, 2015

Hiding Bad Words

I have all these bad words in my head. My mother dragged me into our basement when I was little and washed my mouth out with soap for a word I used in front of her. I still have the word and the taste of Ivory soap in my mind after all these years. Names for Italians, Germans, Polish, Blacks, Jews, are all there and still intact. Mind you, I don’t think I am proud of this but I honestly never lay sleepless over it.
I have this week, boarded up the image of the Confederate flag and placed it side by side with the glimpse I sneaked of Amy’s underpants when I was seven, somewhere inside my skull.
My nasty brain has room for even more shit though I am old now. A deep memory is a pleasure in this world of severe touchiness. I like having hiding places; they make for a good night’s sleep.


Noiseless Showoff

The only way to prove that someone is a Zen master is to be told so by him. This, by definition, makes him a noiseless showoff.

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Like It Burned Them

I have grown tired of life without religion. The media state is failing me. Mind you, I am hugely satisfied with movie production and would never want to change that. But I am bored with the imbecility of cultural engineering. Most of this baloney is coming out of the colleges who see themselves as churches. They give people walking and talking orders, or what we used to call commandments and push them forward into a life of perfect harmony. Out with the old and in with the old.
I just miss the personal magic. Any pathetic belief in something is higher than us, that’s for me. I can’t live a life where the avoidance of words and the watchful intake of calories for longevity is all there is. I hate it that the weakest minds can bring me shame for my words. Even the Christian God did not strike us down once we got out of the Old Testament.
The black and white people in Charleston were deeply religious. I saw them forgive and remembered how textured and internally heated life could be with faith. I could see how the media behaved around such light. They cowered from it. Like it burned them.


God’s Will

I don’t believe God has a will. Otherwise, you would notice him more. I think God gave us his will, as a going away present.

Puddles of Frosted Hostility

It was with a lack of familiarity that the media tried to deal with the “forgiveness” they witnessed in Charleston. They descended on that small town with the confidence of an angler who had, sight yet unseen,” a big one on their line”. The juicy mass murder of innocents engaged in a prayer meeting, by a white man welcomed into their midst. The news story was so perfect you could see the spittle in the corner of the mouths of every reporter.
Forgiveness is disorienting to hard crusted reporters who are highly trained to make everything worse. Worse is their job. But in the first few hours of this story you could feel them stumbling.
It was an important moment. It was not so much they feared we would be on to them. They know we mostly despise what they do and the trouble they make. How they will hurt us to make their money and fame. It was more that they had a rare glimpse of themselves.
What was different here was that these black families, while in indescribable pain, made each reporter realize that what they do as newspeople, was very far from the hand of God.
The media, though it is crucial, needs to be counterbalanced by the healing and stability that only forgiveness offers, otherwise we will separate into puddles of frosted hostility.


Snobbishness was a Greater Offense than Prejudice

I grew up on one of the many hills surrounding the city of Pittsburgh. We were all bigots and racists. Every large ethnic or racial group that lived in Pittsburgh had a hill of its own. It was the result, I presume, of the national game of musical chairs we play with America’s homesteading immigrants. Timid masses huddle on the first space they can find, whispering to each other in their native language while praying for the English language to become decipherable to them in time.
Our pure little villages stood like bearded goats on these hilltops, each confident that their summit was closer to whatever they believed was above them. There are no hills for women even today because they distribute equally, and none set aside for gays and lesbians because they did not yet exist.
Class envy, of course, existed, but nobody had very much of that. We were all kind of lower class and fighting about so little would have just proven demoralizing. No, the best playing fields for prejudice lay in the fertile areas of skin color and accent.
It was a time when snobbishness was a greater offense than prejudice. Go figure. Nowadays conceit is confused with strength and bigotries are like little homicides.


Prejudice Math

Do the prejudice math in your head. Ten million criminal aliens enter America in the last ten years, and only black men get shot by cops?


Enough to go Around

The charm of the Republican Party is that no matter how many candidates they field, each can have a colossally stupid idea that will set them apart.


What the Bible Never Told you About Adam and Eve

So God runs out of materials and has to yank a rib out of this poor guy, Adam, to invent the one being who would eventually get him chucked out of Eden, good old Bloomingdales Eve. Fine, I suppose to error is also sublime.
But this girl, the Hillary Clinton of pre-history, hangs out all day with her buddy, the other unaccomplished serpent in Paradise and bitches endlessly about not being given the top job.
Meanwhile, Adam is sweating the naming of every animal of the earth. Of course, the real truth was he found Eve wholly repulsive and the last thing he wanted was to know her in any biblical way. During these first months, he absently named half the new world’s fauna, “Monica,” until God had to smack him.
Well, you know the rest of the story. The snake persuades Eve to get Adam to take a bite of that forbidden apple, called “Viagra,” in the Hebrew Bible, and a million years later Eve is the President of the United States.


Being rich is not nearly as rare as being generous.

Being rich is not nearly as rare as being generous.

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