Fast with Comparison and Contrast

for all of you Americans out there that can at least relate to the fast part in this sped up alternative to existence that we call now. Comparison and in Contrast the literary art of which was originally explained to me at a young age by a fellow named Art who taught me something about the human gene pool we call Goo-Fi and their attention span. Just yesterday I was trying to discover the meaning of being here in a world where the term lock down gives parents of this community and nation yet another one less thing to worry or think about leaving itself as matter of factually talked about as, "So what's in it for me and what can you do for me?, where did it happen?, where do you live?, what kind of car do you have only to get rid of? have you ever seen crappers clogged in the back country?", you know the socially excepted understanding that has become our way of the good life more appropriately known to me as the productivity based society and useless questions asked in public that is/has become the USA. This morning was another time to examine the realness behind keeping up. Stay Alive down, a few jobs handled and then to the Coffee House that fully(more in cash annually than Team Dicky and Wicki get combined) sponsors my need, regiment, habit and warmth. New York Times Tuesday September 9, 2008. That NYT along with a ceramic mug in the chair that Dr. Quinn Medicine woman , I mean Jane Seymour with nice pleasant voice who when spoke came across as a soft Briton lady, like Mary Poppins but too much make up sat in last week will get my mind off of the real and back onto it for sure, we need some contrast in this world, do we not?

Page A10 provides me with the opposite understanding of my problems with my kid being in Code Orange Lock Down, right there tucked in between a story above about the death toll in Cuba thus far from Hurricane Ike and below something about Thailand's Television and control of people was a story about a US attack on a Taliban Compound within the boundary of Pakistan that killed 23 including 8 children. This story written by Jane Perlez and Pir Zubair Shah sheds much light once again that American workers' Federal Taxes are sparing no awareness of consequences in bringing democracy around the globe. Children. I want to know more but at the same time I prolly cannot handle the complete top secret and higher level of truth that we are all Okay with from the view of the comfort we have been fighting for. Survival instincts run amok and transfer to instincts of surviving not based on existence but comfort and excess which must be what we are distracted by because if we weren't the talk in the elevators would not be about The Patriot Brady's poor 4million dollar leg injury, it would be more somber and real addressing the death of innocent kids, their only crime being born time zones away, not here where we have Toby Keith and the land that we love to put sprawl on so that we can have yet more to distract us from where our dollars are going and who is doing what with them.

Ton of Questions:

Did any of the parents of the 8 children that were killed survive the speed of light explosion from the sky that was built and assembled perhaps in Indiana or some other place in America that they cannot even imagine because they have only seen this country in a tele port, not with their own eyes? Pakistan is very far away, 24 hours by flight if you get some good connections, air time I mean in the aluminum tube. What are their thoughts towards what is at the Quanta of the premature deaths of their own Biological Rerepresentation? I mean if I were here in the Jar and Pakistan was a shit ton fatter than it is right now and one of their missiles were by a series of commands fired from Islamabad exploding into my child after being launched from technology provided by data collected from an un-manned drone flown by some doosh at the other end of the joy stick killing my kid separated from me and I survived I think I would want to know that I did everything to disrupt not only that doosh's life and the life of the command center but everyone else in Pakistan who sat back getting more while their leaders told them to be scared of the Americans, they are dangerous. Are more enemies being created right now instead of building bridges? Have you ever stepped in Pakistan? They are human you know.

I would want to tell them that I am sorry that I have no control, that I cannot change it unless I leave for Scandahoovia or any other non NATO country where I could honestly say I were free and that my leaders were not down with blowing up your kids. Someone keeps telling me with almost this ignorant glee, "Well, if that is your attitude how do you expect it to change?" Pretty funny, I suppose and lack of wit your forte as well so go be a do gooder, go to church they know what's up, think nothing of your individual identity which you are not aware of it's power there for you can never be free or the home of the brave. For Braveness is in the abstract of cool even the antithesis of it, understand chase the 4million and in the end you will never see the collective conscious level that can actually provide the change that the Democratic ticket promises but will never deliver.

I would try to explain why I am sorry as well, not only for helping pay for the technology and the TV guided missile that killed their child but the bigger connection. The connection of my personal self stewing in a brew of life is good. Hell, living in the Jar I feel the entropy of the source of L.I.G. on the daily and for my eyes to witness the absolute calm of a nation faced with tragedy. How are you? Good? Good! Great. I am so sorry and I hope that your connection to your spirituality and God whomever it maybe whether he or she died on the cross or dipped below the horizon 10,000 years ago is saving your sanity. For I know you could deal so much better with your kid in CODE Orange lock Down here in the Jar than I could being in the mountains where you are dealing with my dead kid, an end result of weapons of mass destruction sent by the land of the free.