BASTARDESS, LOVE CHILD OR SCUMBUCKET, YOU DECIDE...

There are two kinds of erroneous decisions. The first is inadvertent, and stems from a natural bias that prevents a person from thinking critically.  The second is an error in judgment due to a bias, ignorance, or habit, though it is more blatant, and generally unaccepted and corrupt.  Fairness, the maintenance of right, and acts worthy of a just depiction are instinctual decisions for most people.  More often than not, people’s instincts are correct.  Unfortunately however, because of the great volume of people and choices that must be made at any given moment, a myriad of injustices are perpetrated every day.  Whether people are defacing public property, stealing from one another, murdering each other, or simply in disagreement, rich and poor alike are usually punished.  Of course there are exceptions, and some crimes go undetected or receive the minimum sentence based on a technicality or flaw in the legal system.  Too often there are cases of innocent men going to jail or sentenced to death.  There have even been astonishing cases where revered officials pardon criminals.  Take for example, the case of Marc Rich, a commodities trader on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.  Indicted for tax evasion, and for making illegal oil deals with Iran during the hostage crisis of the 1980s, Rich was pardoned by Bill Clinton shortly before he left the White House.  The latter might be considered an example of favoritism toward the privileged by the privileged.

My great grandfather was chief justice of the Greek Supreme Court in the 1940s.  In October of that year, Italy and Germany attacked Greece.  Many young men were at the front, both rich and poor.  My grandfather was among them.  When he learned that a close friend of his was due to be executed for falsifying medical records in order to avoid combat, he sent a message to his father-in-law, asking him to stay the execution.  Poulitzas, my great grandfather, who later became prime minister, denied the request.  He sent word to his son-in-law that even though the boy in question was a close family friend, he could not stay the execution. He explained that no son of the ruling class would be saved when so many young farm boys were being killed in battle.  The young patrician was executed at dawn the next morning.  The two families remain friends to this day.

Most people would agree that the punishment should be appropriate to the crime, where serious criminals receive more severe punishments than petty criminals.  But, whichever the case may be, a zero tolerance policy is the only way to protect the rights of law-abiding citizens, and to further the evolution of democratic societies.  No matter how you look at it, America has a long way to go toward this end.  The blatant hypocrisy of a nation that sanctions the death penalty, yet considers murder a criminal act, is a fine example of a fledgling democracy.  How and when this type of injustice ceases to exist depends upon the individuals that choose to blame the system rather than themselves for their indolence and apathy.  Unfortunately we are all guilty of indolence and apathy, and there are few Mother Theresa’s in the world to right all the wrongs of humanity.  Whether Americans choose to be aware of it or not, they are accountable for all their choices, during times of war, and during times of peace.

Property crimes and more violent crimes, usually perpetrated by the less affluent, must continue to be punished harshly.  The grief-stricken, drug-addled and destitute must come to understand that there is no excuse for breaking the law or scapegoatism.  But, conflict theorists are right in pointing out that there is a social bias against the poor.  Especially in America, where wealth is worn as a badge of honor, and the under-classes are mistreated, misguided, and undervalued.  All Americans are guilty when we forget that all men and women are created equally, and thus we fail to “form a more perfect union” when we discriminate based on numbers.  Material and monetary wealth, or lack thereof, has nothing to do with right and wrong, and as such should be irrelevant when prosecuting miscreants or judging people at any level.

Few if any exceptions should be made for the affluent. Fortunately, we are seeing more white-collar criminals doing time in prison.  Take for example Martha Stewart, or Conrad Black.  As advantaged citizens, they were and are bound by duty to honor their privileges in setting a good example.  There should be no question when considering whether or not to strictly penalize this type of criminal.  Justice is not served, and the world is a miserable place for everyone, when rich men and women get richer while indigence is rampant.  Politicians who are classified as public servants are not exempt from the cause of justice.  Bureaucrats might be punished most harshly for undermining a system that has afforded them the liberties that they abuse or blatantly disregard.  Under the guise of public service, irresponsible politicians like Bill Clinton do little if anything to help their community, their countrymen, and those in need.  While reaping enormous financial rewards, politicians like the Clintons, and the Bushes, display little regard for the misfortune of minorities, and do even less to share their wealth with those who are most in need of championing.

This truly grim reality can mean only one thing.  Iniquities affect all of mankind, and if anything unites us, it is complacency and poor judgment.  Again, money and class have nothing to do with ethics.  Misdeeds, felonies, delinquency, criminality, villainy, evil, sin, crookedness, and any and all malfeasances and other offenses must and will be punished one way or the other.  The question remains the same, is there ever a just crime? And if there is, why are you willing to be guilty of such a thing?

Loyalty to self, by most accounts, supersedes one’s duty to the state.  The exception to this is perhaps when the community’s interest is more ethical or noble than that of the individual.  Of course some form of law and order is needed to avoid outright anarchy.   But, according to Plato, cities will not be free of evil until political power and philosophy go hand in hand (Plato 263).  Such a democracy has scarcely existed, and as Plato saw it, a single tyrant makes for a better ruler than a democracy of ignoramuses.  Unfortunately, America is a nation ruled by sophistry.  People think they know better than an old sage like Socrates and do away with tyrants any chance they get.  When Americans decide to draw themselves away from the dregs of illiteracy, they might discover Sophocles, the great tragedian playwright who reminds us of lessons learned long ago.  Antigone, the famous heroine of the play by the same name buries her brother in defiance of the King.  When her uncle Creon sentences her to death for her wrongdoing, she sacrifices herself in opposition, a valiant attempt to preserve justice for herself and her family.  In contrast, Ismene, Antigone’s sister, who ends up with not a family member to speak of, refuses to break with municipal orders.  Since both sisters make decisions based on an adherence to a particular law or truth, Sophocles begs the question, is breaking the law justified in certain cases?  Given the need to maintain a balance of power, it follows that one’s moral obligation, and one’s duty to family, necessarily supplant allegiance to the state.  Forward-thinking Americans will consider this sort of action when they face the dour struggle ahead to redefine a flawed way of life, and a wretched foreign policy.  Without a solid push to create a worthy future for a nation that betrayed them long ago, Americans can only begin to imagine how difficult and fun-free their lives will become when terrorism reigns supreme.
   
William Blake felt that contraries were necessary to human existence.  So too perhaps contrarians who, in going against the prevailing ideologies of any given time, change the course of history and become heroes for generations of men.  Jesus of Nazareth was one such figure, crucified for rabble-rousing under the orders of Pontius Pilate.  Mohammed, another well-known hero was also harshly persecuted until he immigrated to Medina where he became an arbiter of peace among the warring tribes of Yathrib.  Martin Luther was yet another great contester of corruption without whom the church might still be selling indulgences.  Deprived of the sorts of figures who oppose or reject dubious, and often sanctioned opinions, where might humankind be today?  Perhaps still under the Ptolemaic view of the universe, or in a world that had never known Pythagoras.  One can only imagine the sort of America Abraham Lincoln would have left behind had John Wilkes Booth not been incensed by his speech promoting suffrage for blacks.  Without that elusive rogue, Osama bin Laden, how different might the world be today, and would America still be trying to sell its corrupt way of life to the world?

Great proponents of peace and supporters of democracy like Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King and John Lennon have all given their lives to the causes of freedom and justice.  Dr. King famously maintained that breaking a law that “conscience tells him is unjust” is justified, so long as one accepts the consequences of one’s actions (King 90).  He wrote his famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail” doing just that, after staging a sit-in to protest segregation.  Antigone was no different, using suicide as a means to protest political corruption and defend her brother’s inalienable right.  When a ruler is too powerful, a single voice is hardly loud enough.  Suicide is certainly the most dramatic means to communicate a message, particularly when the majority is enslaved by silence and inaction.  For the Greeks, death for a cause was rather commonplace.  One might recall the great hero, Agamemnon, who sacrificed his daughter in return for favorable winds.  Though most Western societies consider suicide a sin, Hindus, Buddhists, and the Japanese have tolerated it as a means of political protest; so too the suicide bombers who protest the Americanization of the world in support of their fundamentalist beliefs.  

Osama bin Laden and his fellow jihadis are urging the West to question our ruling principles.  Of course citizens of any civilization should challenge the values to which they pledge allegiance.  But in such a diverse world, with so many disparate conventions, where should the ultimate ruling lie?  A radical idea most famously espoused by Socrates has unwritten rights existing since the beginning of time, in which one’s duty to serve primordial dictates must come before duty to any other bylaws.  For Antigone, fighting for the right to bury her brother became a moral imperative.  The same sort of righteousness likely compelled Dr. King and Gandhi.  Antigone’s bravery was particularly noteworthy because she was not blinded by erroneous cultural values, and because she was a woman.  A man’s subordinate, perhaps not in natural law, but certainly in mankind’s unwritten codes.  Though she may have been driven to extremes by her pride, Antigone was ahead of her time in her rebellion against the sort of patriarchal culture that breeds violence and oppression.  Only in conclusion, when Creon had been convinced of his poor judgment, and her honorable example, did he agree to reverse his policy.  But, by then it was too late, and Antigone’s message was drawn in blood.  Conceivably, there is a lesson to be learned from Creon’s mistakes, but will today’s leaders take heed?

Like Gandhi, Antigone was one of those rare radicals brave enough to give up her own life in order to champion a philosophical truth.  Ismene drew attention to the fact that Antigone’s was an extreme case, yet one she understood nonetheless because she was in agreement, at odds only in mustering the courage that compelled her sister.  Moral dilemmas of this sort are time-honored rights of passage for all who inherit power or wealth.  Antigone’s brothers, Polynices and Eteocles, struggled over the throne they jointly inherited from their father, Oedipus.  Theirs was a fight that resulted in treason, betrayal, and eventually death.  Unfortunately, the average citizen is less inclined to rebel against violence and injustice to restore order and harmony.  Gun-toting madmen on killing sprees inside shopping malls protest the hypocrisy they are bludgeoned with as citizens of this country.  Sadly, the hope of a bright American future sparked by the student protests of the 1960s did little to end the war in Vietnam and even less to expand the minds of the very generation responsible for the mess the United States finds itself in now.  Perhaps history would look more favorably upon mankind if patriotism were effective, and if government officials actually followed the laws of state, or the commandments they duplicitously espouse when it suits their needs.

Most politicians would probably sympathize with Ismene, taking the view that order is paramount, and that in the face of civil war, anything including despotism is an alternative worthy of consideration.  The Scottish historian, Thomas Carlyle, in writing on the French Revolution opined that the revolution was a war against both aristocracy and anarchy, from which one could only hope for an ordered society to counter the emptiness and ignorance of nihilism (Carlyle).  He was on the side of heroes of course, but like any parent raising a child in a war ravaged country, he might have agreed that civil obedience must come before one even begins to weigh in on personal obligations.  Kennedy encouraged Americans in his inaugural address to “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country” (Wikipedia).  He made this statement in 1961, when Americans fell right back into the self-centered trap America has been burdened with since the Dutch brazenly took New York from the Indians.  In his appeal to Americans to become active citizens, Kennedy highlighted the fact that what is good for all is not always good for the individual, but that as patriots we must act with our neighbors in mind rather than ourselves.  Unfortunately, he was also a warmonger, and his words fell on deaf ears.  The inherent paradoxes that have always baffled mankind were only exacerbated in the succeeding decades.  Naturally, politicians are justified in promoting ideologies that benefit the greatest number of people.  Ideally, governments are in place to enable this process.  Random acts of lawlessness and brutality cannot be tolerated.  Law enforcement serves to protect the safety of law-abiding citizens.  Criminals and thieves who turn temporal riches into poverty-stricken ghettos and public domain into the Wild West need to be rehabilitated.  Encouraging anyone to defy laws that are in place for good reason is a dangerous and immoral proposition that leads to murder and mayhem, instead of enlightenment and evolution.

However, an individual who is unable to exist freely, in a so-called free and just society, must dig deep into the wellspring of knowledge.  Citizens are the ones responsible for realigning the power base.  Citizens are responsible for reminding the community that pirates have usurped the highest office of the land.  The infringement upon privacy and civil liberties that the USA Patriot Act will surely permit once the war on terrorism is over is a dangerous and unjustified result of our failed foreign policies.  Returning this country to McCarthyism in a technologically advanced future is the stuff of fiction, where it should remain.  Regrettably, a world in which big brother is watching encourages people to behave surreptitiously rather than nobly.  Sophisticated spin-doctors, and ambulance-chasing journalists choose to see what they want instead of the truth.  They are responsible for the 911 hype that forced ignorant bureaucrats into passing unlawful bills.  Somehow America has turned a supposedly serious governing body into a reality-show gag.  Only, politics are not a joke, and morality and community service are consequential responsibilities that not many Americans seem to take seriously.  Philosopher kings who are relegated to obscurity by greed, ignorance and despair will move out of hiding when people demand change.  The song says the time is going to come.  But when will it come?  Certainly not before people have their heads examined; not before they turn off the lights and get on the bus by gracefully declining a $45 tank of gas.  The time will not come before hordes of people learn to forgive one another and listen to the complaints of their elders.  The time will not come before Americans spend their tax dollars on schools, teachers and books instead of jails, guns and ammunition.   The time will not come if men continue to fight fire with fire, and until countries start working like mad to make peace with themselves and their neighbors.

Only then will man’s duty to eschew immorality be an obvious one.  Too many people are lazy and ignorant enough not to become obsessed with this obligation.  A laissez-faire attitude is all too easy when one lives in a comfortable society like the United States of America of the 21st century.  Thousands of years of history have proven that most groups, cultures, religions and individuals struggle to identify right from wrong. Many societies have foolishly believed there is such a thing as a just war in the process. The hypocrisy is monstrous.  Punishing murderers and rapists with the death penalty when attempting to cultivate a virtuous and ordered society makes no sense.  Of course a wide variety of clichés have supported Plato’s ancient aphorism that people do not knowingly do wrong.  But, it is hard to believe that in 2008, considering all the pious rhetoric that has passed about since 400 BC, that such egregiousness has yet to be eradicated.  The plight of suicide bombers and the message of the September 11th attacks only serve to support the need for change.  If only Americans were as wise and fearless as Antigone, and as God-fearing as they purport to be, perhaps America would not be murdering dictators in a winless war, and what stands for peace would be seen as freedom from totalitarian rule and nihilism.  During tyrannous times resistance is imperative. With no alternate means to eradicate violence and intolerance, Americans should follow their right to revolution as outlined by the preamble of the constitution.  Attempting to overthrow a horrific government, and a corrupt world order, is a righteous choice.  It is also a necessary one if we are to be saved from eternal ridicule, damnation, and the most flagrant disregard for a sacred and divine world that will go up in smoke one day all on its own.  




Works Cited

Carlyle, Thomas, The French Revolution: A History. New York:
      The Modern Library, 2002.  
“John F. Kennedy.” Wikipedia. 2007. Wikimedia. 18 November 2007.
    < http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jfk>
King, Martin Luther, I Have a Dream. San Francisco: Harper, 1992. 90.
Plato, The Republic. New York: Penguin Classics, 2003. 263
Sophocles. “Antigone.” Literature and the Writing Process.  Ed. McMahon, Elizabeth.          Pearson Prentice Hall: New Jersey, 2007. 738-773.

A hot wind blows out of the California desert that has been known to envelope people with a sort of madness.  The condition produces an unquenchable appetite.  Envy, the sixth of the seven deadly sins is characterized by such an insatiable desire, most often of something possessed by others and lacking in oneself.  One’s critical faculties must be adequately honed, or a wind like the Mistral, the Föhn, or the Santa Ana could cause one to become completely unhinged, murderous even.  Take Mr. Hayashi for example, the Japanese patriarch of an immigrant family.  Unable to avoid his wife’s love of haiku poetry, Mr. Hayashi, the benighted father in Hisaye Yamamoto’s Seventeen Syllables forces himself into psychological isolation, burdened by jealousy and anger.  Hayashi may or may not be a cultivated man; he is a farmer.  While farming is certainly a noble profession, without considerable effort it is one not likely to emancipate him from ignorance, or manual labor.  Hayashi’s status is at times a source of suffering for him and his family.  His wife expresses a greater interest and aptitude for the intellectual.  Pleasantries with his daughter are limited too, posing other obstacles for Hayashi and Rosie.  Hayashi’s shortcomings, coupled with the intensity of his emotions could become profoundly debilitating.  His inability to come to terms with his surroundings or embrace the autodidact might imperil his family and community’s quest for eudaemonia.

Hayashi’s wife’s behavior is in contrast to male dominated culture.  Her literary ambitions are somewhat progressive for a Japanese housewife, and so Tome develops a sassy alter ego, which emerges when her household duties have been completed.  Ume, her nom de plume, discusses her interests with whomever she can, including her adolescent daughter.  At the very beginning of the story she reads her haiku aloud and explains what kind of poem she has created about a pussycat.  Rosie compliments Tome’s work, and engages her mother with talk of another haiku.  And so Hayashi has been set up to lose his cool.  He storms about never actually addressing the issue at hand.  His first outburst occurs when they are visiting family friends in a neighboring town.  His wife is engaged in conversation with their host about haiku when Hayashi’s outrage forces him to leave the house rather abruptly.  On the ride home in the car neither of them say anything.  Rosie imagines their car crashing to escape her disappointment over her parents’ discord.  A similar incident occurs later on when relatives visit and Tome is again absorbed in discussions of haiku.  Hayashi disengages from the group and is unnecessarily curt with Rosie.  At this point it becomes clear that anything to do with haiku is deeply frustrating for Hayashi, and that his inability to cope with his wife’s interests are a source of exasperation for him.  Hayashi does not attempt to take part in these discussions.  Why he is unable to indulge his wife’s pleasure is never made clear by the author, though he appears to suffer from inadequacy, envy, and his own unwillingness to adapt to his changing environment.  In a sense, Hayashi is the physical embodiment of the haiku form, a 16th century art that, within concise verse, evokes the monumental mystery of the natural world.  He is simply an agrarian man, and yet it is his outward simplicity that alludes to the complexity of his inner life.  Sadly, something Hayashi struggles to be in harmony with.  

Meanwhile, on one sultry summer night Rosie finds herself in the shed with Jesus, her friend and farmhand.  Earlier that day she had made a tentative agreement to meet Jesus, so that he may reveal to her a secret. “You slay me!” he says, before taking a tomato out of her hand and kissing her (352).  Here Yamamoto makes a point of describing the sensation currently being experienced by Rosie.  A state where something unfamiliar seizes one’s ability to form words, where one is merely reactionary, and usually inclined to beat a hasty retreat for safer ground.  Though in this case Rosie is not necessarily burdened with feelings of anger, she is naïve to the situation, and is likely confused by her own feelings towards Jesus and his advances.  In many ways Rosie is in a position similar to her father’s, unsure of herself and her partner, temporarily forced to reject circumstances where further knowledge is needed.  Unfortunately we never see how this plays out, and what love has in store for little Rosie.

The story reaches its climax when Tome is awarded first prize by the newspaper in which her haiku was published.  She is at home, talking to the magazine editor, Mr. Kuroda, about their shared pleasure, when Hayashi demands her attention.  Tome asks Rosie to put him off momentarily while she remains with the visitor.  Hayashi becomes enraged once again because he cannot get his wife’s attention.  He makes it clear Kuroda is unwelcome, bursting into the house to grab the prize, a Japanese painting.  Hayashi emerges from within, painting in hand; he smashes it with an ax and sets it ablaze.  Thereafter Rosie and her mother reluctantly console one another.  Tome makes her young daughter promise never to marry, in all probability so that she might avoid the sort of authority that is not in service of love.  At this point, Tome is also without the right words, and Rosie is upset, forced to tears by her mother’s needs and her father’s violence.

She turns her mind to Jesus for consolation.  The nature of his sensibility is different to Hayashi’s.  Jesus is unlike the other characters in Seventeen Syllables because he is neither paralyzed by his feelings, nor imprisoned by an inability to express control.  Arguably, Jesus is the only happy character in Yamamoto’s story, exemplifying the fact that we are only ever a few letters shy of fruition, and liberation from cultural restrictions and psychological bondage.  With “Jesus’” influence, maybe things might turn out differently for Rosie than they do for her mother and father.  Perhaps Yamamoto would agree that without mastery of self and speech, life’s riches and ruins bear a dull palate.  For emotion is as determined as wind, powerful enough to shatter anything in its way.  Including a man or woman unwilling to weed the reaches of his or her passions, however simple or complex.
    
     

    My path towards self-actualization and autonomy has been strictly speaking, a long one.   Though it might have begun before I graduated high school, it was not until I got my first apartment during my freshman year of college that I truly committed myself to the task.  It was then that I found the sort of freedom I had been waiting for my entire life.  Soon I became aware of the possibilities of psychoanalysis.  I had seen several doctors at different stages of adolescence for various reasons.  Though I found it useful on occasion in the past, this was the first time I sought counseling on my own, for reasons to do with my own actions rather than those of schoolteachers or family members.  
    Up until then, my life had been a series of impulsive choices, strung together by circumstances I could not control, and some luck.  Suddenly I found myself down on luck, ill, and trapped by repetitive patterns I hadn’t planned.  For a person who was desperate for control, this became unbearable.  I soon found a Jungian analyst in a little office in the Albert Chambers on 10th street and University Place in New York City, my hometown and the city where I was born.  I started going regularly, and in no time I was hooked.  At the beginning I told my analyst all about my folks and my cosmopolitan upbringing.  I spent years talking about my father and the rather unpleasant nature of his parenting skills.  Several years in I began speaking about my mother and grandmother.  After that, practically a decade in, my brother became the choice topic.  Throughout all this of course, my emotions were being addressed, and I had found an outlet for my unhappiness, though it continued to haunt me for many years.
    The cause of my suffering had been a mystery, and I became more and more determined to delve deeper into my family history and the dynamic that contained me for so long.  Once I was able to see how my mother and father and their relationship shaped my personality, I began to question whether or not I liked their choices.  I came to see that they had taught me many valuable things, like love, courage, truth, honor, family and duty.  But they had also imparted what I now consider baser values, like violence, drug use, failure to acknowledge personal boundaries, co-dependency and antiquated gender roles.  I also discovered that because of my parent’s tempestuous relationship, I had been unable to bond properly with either parent as a small child.  As a result, I was equipped with all the tools I needed to become the type of person I wanted to be, and faced with all the challenges that make freedom hard to come by.
    Though I didn’t fully understand it at the time, when I set out on my path of self-discovery, it was liberation I sought.  My yearning began during my junior year of high school when my main concern was to escape the restrictions and hypocrisy surrounding me.  I did this by focusing less on schoolwork and more on new friends and New York nightlife.  This proved to be an outlet for my frustrations, as well as a great experience for later life, but eventually it all caught up with me, and the betrayals I was escaping were my own and nobody else’s.  This was a lesson that took a long time to register.  In fact, it took a decade and one very bad relationship to come to terms with the fact that no one could be disloyal to me more than I could be to myself.  Therefore, it was not until I was 28, when all my jobs, travels, whims, and escapes had done nothing but keep me in a functional holding pattern, that I began to sense what was on the horizon for me.  About the same time America began its occupation of Iraq, I too went to war, and the real work towards self-actualization began.
    I was forced to take a careful look at my choices.  For the second time, I had allowed myself to move half way around the world for a complete lunatic, to find myself lonely and with little of my own to be proud of.  It took about three years from that point to find the power I was so used to giving away.  This was a habit I learned early on from my mother, who never seemed able to determine which needs should take priority over those of others.  Like her, I was operating under the assumption that everything my father dictated had to be.  Slowly I uncovered this pattern and realized that a map that kept me from everything I dreamt about guided my entire life.  Day by day, session-by-session, moment-by-moment, I redrew the map, until one day it was complete, and the key was mine.  After that I became a truly autonomous person, and now I lead the life I choose.  I am happy, aware, inspired, in control, and open to others.  I am what one might call conscious.  No longer burdened like a zombie between wanting to live and wanting to die.  Of course there are times when I am forced to reckon with the demons of my past and present, fortunately I am usually quick to identify them and able to redirect based on the new map.
    I have learned that freedom is a state of mind.  All together, it took me 30 years to secure, and a lifetime I suspect, to master.   I can say with certainty that deliverance is worth striving for.  Delving into my own depths is the hardest thing I have ever done, but it is also my proudest accomplishment.  I have taught myself how to be alone, how to be healthy, how to be with others, and how to care for myself, and those I love.  My focus now is to become all the things I never imagined I could be but always wanted for myself.  My commitment to this has brought me back to school so that I can broaden my knowledge and serve my fellows so that they too might gain access to the keys of manumission.

First, Thee Stein is a cup for drinking. Second, it is a cup for beer. The 3 of the stein is that the stein is a good replacement for fuck. The Stein is versatile.  One can say "Tori, hold my stein."  A chap might tell you to stop acting like such a stein.  The stein is a great go to word or reference in nervous conversation.  Some cliche versions of THE STEIN follow, feel free to add your own..

just in the nick of stein
it's only a matter of stein
circumstein
where's my stein?
lets consult the stein
fill my stein
you gotta love the stein
got stein?
Francken.....

Perhaps Baby Boomers were earmarked to shrug off tradition in order to do away with the restraints that had sidelined many Americans for centuries.  For all one knows though, it could be that that remarkable epoch of the 20th Century, known as the 1960s, was merely one of many infinite calls to the man, if there is one, running the showboat we call creation.  Whichever the case may be, scores of American children born since then have been stunted and swindled by their rather naïve and quixotic parents.  Forty years ago Joan Didion undertook the mission to demystify the offspring of the ever-growing American middle class.  In her essay Slouching Towards Bethlehem; Didion takes the beatniks to task for immortalizing illiteracy.  Her commentary on the Haight-Ashbury scene draws one in, and is at once, repellant.  Didion could see the cost of maintaining so many freedoms back then, when the numbers of children abandoned for the charges of war and peace were fewer.  People remain mired in the 21st Century because the cycle has not been broken, and what was once reserved for upper-middle class hippies, has become a problem for the world.  Radical liberalism, the search for spiritual understanding, and the breakdown of the patriarchal values of yore are to blame for the luckless degeneration of the reputed free world.  Perhaps in this case, America’s monotheistic enemies are anything but mistaken, and the relentless wrangling many of us only witness on television is of our own doing.
  
The first character we meet in Slouching Towards Bethlehem is called Deadeye.  Deadeye hopes to mastermind a “groovy religious group” called ‘Teenage Evangelism’ where people of all ages can seek counseling for their problems.  Deadeye plans to finance his church of sorts by dealing LSD.  Deadeye has earnest, albeit callow intentions, but genuinely seems interested in helping depressed people.  However, Deadeye’s mission is unmistakably flawed because his hopes, like many 60s era notions, relies too heavily on the use of drugs.  Somehow, possibly due to his intoxication, the conflict between upright Christian values and drug abuse poses no great dilemma for Deadeye.  This sort of false virtue runs rife.  It is as if the dead eye Deadeye and his contemporaries were turning their backs to spot them first, and handed them a befuddled and fraudulent sense of power.  Though recreational drug use is not necessarily problematic, excessive dependence frustrates development.  Regrettably, anyone with access to power and narcotics is likely to create a rather dystopian atmosphere. Witness the Hell’s Angels at the Altamont Speedway Concert in San Francisco who killed a person and mauled dozens more at an “anti-war” concert in 1969 (Wikipedia).  The fact is mind-bending drugs are a hell of a lot of fun.  They can also lead to great insight for those who take them.  But, actually practicing harmony or eliminating emotional pain is an impossible reality to manufacture.  The late great Hunter S. Thompson was hip to this concept in his hilarious epic Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.  He implies that Tim Leary was nothing more than a fool, peddling “consciousness expansion” to a bunch of halfwits desperate enough to believe in God.  Whether or not he was right is anybody’s guess, but the fact is, LSD took Leary and his followers down, and they landed with a thud (Thompson 178).  Unfortunately, quite a few people still haven’t managed to grasp this concept, Prozac being the contemporary cure for life’s ills.  Though the numbing effects of selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors like Prozac can be miraculous stress-relievers, they are no substitute for actual peace, no cure for perversions of justice, and a scant proxy for wisdom.

Max, a privileged East Coaster sees his life as a masterstroke over middle class values.  He is proud to be unencumbered by the types of affiliations that keep society together, and boasts about his sexual savoir faire.   Max spends the better part of his youth scoring drugs like pot and peyote, railing on about “middle class Freudian hang-ups” and the hypocrisy of the working class.  Didion views Max and his ilk as victims of a society torn apart by war; innocent children left in the lurch to find new homes and communities without the support and guidance of their elders.  According to Thompson, at the heart of the problem was a class struggle where an “…effort to reconcile the interests of the lower/working class biker/dropout types and the upper/middle, Berkeley/student activists” went awry (Thompson 179).  Evidently, the difference between classes only becomes problematic when one group tries to over-power another.  The sad truth is many Baby Boomers were painfully affected by the Vietnam War, and not only by their own choices but also by their equally ill equipped parents.  All of who were themselves malcontent survivors of depression and global warfare.  The difference is people old enough to have survived WWI were reacting against The Depression, and were still heavily dependant upon the rubrics of polite society and the old class system.  
The rejection of these principles by the beatnik generation has led to an informal lifestyle and the rather unfortunate vulgarization of America.  Casual culture has spread far and wide, so much so that many people no longer find value in respecting themselves and those around them, or learning Standard English.  Even the rich are exempt from the sort of behavior that in the past one only saw amongst the poverty-stricken.  Words like fuck are so commonly used today; few people are actually capable of articulating the root of their anger, merely opting for the easy way out and a flippant fuck you.  Ebonics, a commonly used African–American dialect now supersedes Standard English for the majority of black Americans.  Acceptance of these other forms of culture is what our society is predicated upon, but such deviations from the old order prevent a lot of children from reaching their full potential, and from participating in many mainstream activities.

Didion moves on to describe the free-loving scene on the streets of San Francisco where hot bands like the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane drew in crowds of adolescent groupies who were tuning in and dropping out en masse.  She recounts an afternoon on the Haight where confusion and racial undertones softly pepper what was supposed to be nothing more than street theater.  Several white kids in blackface poke a ‘negro’ with sticks and question his loyalty to Chuck Berry.  Against the young man’s protests, a white girl suggests blacks should be getting freebies like white youths do from their parents.  The implications of this brief happenstance are deeply emblematic of American ignorance and an infuriating willingness to thwart responsibility.  This episode encapsulates how African Americans became the victims of drug-use, ignorance, and welfare; exploited by children who were foolishly trying to save them with meditation, macrobiotic food, and other Taoist principles.  Few of which, unfortunately, have managed to save anyone from the hassles of hard work and responsibility.  Yet, liberal Americans still have their hearts set to obliterate what is left of the class system, leaving the more noble professions like housework and farming to Latino immigrants who hang on to the same religious and patriarchal systems that many Americans are inclined to reject.  This is no way forward.  If displaced and jobless Americans living below the poverty level in places like New Orleans were supported by the conventional practices that the 60s did away with, perhaps they too would see the honor in the work Latin immigrants do, while simultaneously lifting themselves out of poverty.

Behind all these ideological struggles, the feminist movement has in all probability caused a great number of the obstacles we encounter today.  The disruption of the Patriarchal and Puritanical systems that America has long been governed by are slowly being dismantled, but female equality comes with a change men have not accepted with ease.  Of course men have been deeply conditioned to maintain a dominant position, but most are still beholden to violent and macho principles (Vidal 586).  President George W. Bush and his supporters seem to be operating under this very paradigm.  Muslim nations, also governed by the edicts of priggery and patriarchy, have become our enemy because they are in competition for supremacy, and reject the practices that keep white American men in power.  This conflict will certainly impede any advances America has made towards that elusive concept hippies call peace, Christians refer to as salvation, and Muslims worship to in Allah.

Though the peaceniks left a legacy of hope, little has changed since the 1960s, and the U.S. government continues to yield the sort of power reserved for dictatorships (Hoffman 419).  In many ways, the hippies were right in protesting immorality, greed, and the multitude of sins affecting our country.  They taught us that Americans have a duty to their country, and that when the citizenry take an interest in the country’s direction, they can influence its course.  Alas, they failed to create everlasting peace because they were unaware of how complex the system actually is, and that a total rejection of the past is impossible.  Now we must take into account that our responsibility towards others is not in changing the world for them, or conforming to a particular point of view, but rather it is to change one’s attitudes when things are not as they should be.   As Joan Didion, and William Butler Yates point out, in its current state the “center cannot hold.”  Or, more to the point, the center is lost.  Total freedom has reduced us to a nation with few principals, and has brought about the sort of ignorant, and egocentric immorality that affects every person wanting to be saved from injustice.  Even the man upstairs might doubt his own existence if he knew sin was outfoxing virtue in America’s quest for deliverance.


Works Cited

Didion, Joan.  Slouching Towards Bethlehem. New York: Farrar, Straus and
Giroux, 1990.
    “Altamont Free Concert” Wikipedia. 2007. Wikimedia Foundation. 12 May 2007
        < http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Altamont_Free_Concert>
Hoffman, Abbie. The Best of Abbie Hoffman. New York: Four Walls Eight
Windows, 1989.
Thompson, Hunter S. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. New York: Random
House, 1971.
    Vidal, Gore. United States: Essays 1952-1992. New York: Random House, 1993.

There would be fewer mundane injustices if only youth culture were reserved for the young. Alas, our society is far too determined to exploit what is easily attainable, mistakenly throwing down the righteousness of juvenescence in the process. Teenagers often feel they’ve been deceived by adults. There is no doubt, they have been. Somewhere in the mix, everyone is perturbed. Children of the sixties certainly must have felt slighted by their elders, in 2007, not much has changed. When the country is at war and the youth of America are powerless, who is responsible for the status quo? One can only assume things are calamitous if fledgling artists are protesting.

Musicians have historically taken up the cause. Over forty years ago it was people like Joan Baez and Bob Dylan. Today, John Mayer is “waiting for the world to change.” Change how? What’s wrong with the way things are? Apparently, people are surprised by the fact that they are dissatisfied even though they’ve done nothing to determine how things ought to be. When one is guilty of inaction, it is all too easy to point the finger. Americans have not understood their naivety, and remain in the grip of their fear and confusion. Musicians foolishly battle it out on the public stage. Politicians do the same in a different arena. The so-called leadership is nothing but self-serving.

Unfortunately, no one seems to be coming up with any worthy answers, and Americans who were once young are no better off than those in their prime. Perhaps our great leaders, fathers, friends and neighbors might proceed more cautiously when engaging hostility, taking a few lessons in diplomacy from peacenik counterculture. After all, there is no grand secret or master plan, only right and wrong. With some effort a balance can certainly be struck between these forces.  Hopefully, before eternal rest levels us all.

Neolithic noodles were discovered in a pot along the Yellow River in 2005, settling an ancient debate about who invented the noodle.  A slave probably cooked up pasta for the first time in Italy when North Africans controlled Palermo in the 9th Century.  As far as we know Arabs were making it in Jerusalem; ‘makkaroni’ was written about in the Talmud around the same time it was being slurped down in the Orient.  Marco Polo, Catherine de Medici and Thomas Jefferson are given credit for introducing it to the West, but before 1271 when Polo set out from Venice, the Han had already been eating them for almost 3000 years (Wikipedia). The noodle was found near Lajia, Southwest of Beijing, it was miraculously preserved by a volcanic eruption (BBC News).  Up until two years ago there was still hope for an Italian birthplace, a carving of a rolling pin on an Etruscan tomb led to this hypothesis.  Unfortunately for proud pastaphiles, the catastrophic events that safeguarded the Chinese noodle put that claim to rest (History of Pasta).  But despite the defeat, Italians have a made an indelible mark on gastronomic culture, turning noodles into an international staple loved so deeply, it is a top choice among the carb-loving community; and my preferred desert island dish.

I began my love affair with spaghetti as a child.  It was the first meal beside breakfast I learned to make on my own.  I usually dispensed with any fancy toppings and lapped mine up with butter and ketchup.  Sometimes I elaborated on the basics and added a little cream and grated cheese for extra zip.  My second pasta dish was appropriated form a friend and wasn’t very good, the ingredients came from a can. I soon gave that up and have been using freshly chopped plum tomatoes with oil, Parmesan cheese, basil, salt and pepper ever since.  When I find myself low on ingredients and too lazy to go to the market, a bit of butter and grated cheese does the trick. The most important thing I’ve learned is to salt the water heavily to avoid over doing it later.  Too many restaurants make pasta even salt can’t fix, therefore I rarely eat it out unless I know it’s going to be delicious.  The only thing more disappointing to my stomach than bad pasta is no pasta at all.

The handsome river gods of The Nile, The Ganges, The Danube and the River Plate emerge from a rocky grotto.  One of the giant figures upholds the papal coat of arms, water spurts out from all directions overhead.  An obelisk at the fountain’s center is upheld by ornament from the mystical and natural worlds.  The Fountain of the Four Rivers in Rome’s Piazza Navona is irrefutably one of the most beautiful in Europe, and its wisdom has drawn me to it more than any other public place in my memory.  I am struck by its timelessness, and have to my own surprise admired its impressiveness for hours on end, forsaking the present to slip into a romantic daydream.  I am undoubtedly among many affected by its magnificence; this particular design beat out the competition despite the fact that its creator was not invited to enter the contest.  The controversy not withstanding, lovers of the fountain will always revere Gian Lorenzo Bernini because the concept as he imagined it encapsulates far more than the virgin supply of water the sculpture was intended to commemorate (Avery 196).

During the mid 17th century Bernini was one of the world’s preeminent sculptors, and by all accounts, the most significant contributor to Roman Baroque architecture. Though his rivals and a few of the leading Roman Catholic figures at the time disliked him, Bernini’s reputation as a virtuoso was undeniable. His enviable creations decorate some of the most important areas of Rome, including many at St. Peter’s Cathedral.  He is also quite famous for his marble and bronze portraiture of prominent heads of state including Louis XIV of France and Charles I of England, as well as for the mythical figures he sculpted for the Villa Borghese.  Along with dozens of other effigies around the Italian capital, among them The Ecstasy of St Teresa and the Elephant and Obelisk near the Pantheon, Bernini was also regarded for his work as an architect, a master draftsman, playwright, caricaturist, decorator and designer; an all-around polymath or uomo universale (Avery 11).

The Piazza Navona has been a colorful place since the 1st century when the Emperor Domitian effectuated a version of the Olympic games on the site. The expansive view of the Roman sky provided by the square is a hospitable interlude from the stifling city streets in the surrounding neighborhood.  During the 1600s the piazza was flooded on hot August weekends to hold naval races.  More than 2000 years since Domitian it is as ever, a theatrical meeting point where spectators and artists come to see and be seen (Avery 193).   The sounds of splashing water are adorned still by the cunningness of the Renaissance and the ancient Roman Empire.  Sitting in one of the many cafes that dot the piazza one can practically see members of the ruling family, the Pamphili, being ushered in and out of their palazzo by humble servants, vibrant flags waving.  Pope Innocent X, the Pamphili in charge at the time, commissioned the renovation of the Sant Agnese chapel as well as remodeling the Pamphili family palace.  Under the pontiff’s supervision, the architect Borromini oversaw the works, and it was soon decided that the lengthy rectangular piazza would be best adorned with a central feature to balance the two previously constructed fountains at each end (Wittkower 30).  The fountain’s genesis gave way to an informal competition and several local sculptors took part in drafting possibilities. The pontiff and the papal architect had determined the design would include an obelisk, and images personifying the four aforementioned rivers.  With the help of one of the pontiff’s relatives, Bernini managed to sneak a silver model of his interpretation into the palace for Innocent to chance upon. After coming across it, unable to ignore its splendor, the Bishop of Rome exclaimed begrudgingly that Bernini’s handiwork was too beautiful to reject and could not be glimpsed at all if it was to be ignored (Avery 179).  

Upon closer inspection, La Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi, as it is know in Italian, is a hodgepodge of temporal and ecclesiastical symbolism.  The colossal statues seem to be moving through the river’s mighty current aided by a charging equine figure towards the palm-lined river’s edge.  A lion, crocodile, fish and armadillo, supposedly carved by Bernini himself, personify the animal kingdom.  A dove crowns the obelisk, symbolizing the Pamphili, as well as innocence, and the Holy Ghost (Scribner 94).  For many, it is a representation of the Christian triumph over paganism (Wittkower 30); for others Bernini’s fountain is more of a transcendental metaphor.  Supporters of Freudian psychology might suggest gods and demons are used as a means to explain precisely what is not known, wretched beasts symbolizing the wild fury with which mother earth can destroy man and his constructions. This being the case, fountains like the Four Rivers can be seen as unconscious peace offerings, an attempt to subdue fear and vulnerability in the shadows of greatness.  The obelisk was a popular symbol dating back to Egyptian times glorifying the sun, Ra (Wikipedia). The monolith was likely utilized in Roman times to exalt the divine order of the period.  Wikipedia has called Rome “the obelisk capital of the world”.   Considering the Holy Roman Empire’s deep commitment to the Almighty, as impetus for redundant benefaction, one might find this a suitably ironic nickname for such an outwardly brave and powerful society.

Hordes of tourists and nonessential artists can be seen loitering around the fountain every day, the feeling that something consequential is always underway in the Piazza Navona is palpable, possibly a testament to the elevated character and distinction of the fountain’s design. A sense of importance is certainly punctuated by the adjacent architecture.  Perhaps one of the designer’s greatest strengths was synthesizing the themes and styles that dominated the Roman Catholic stage into something deeply symbolic of that culture.  Though he was not always known for his originality, Bernini was a visionary, revered because he was able to manifest an aesthetic ethos into magnificent forms that reached well beyond function, often to the horror of those who “fanatically advocated ‘truth to material’ and ‘functional art’” (Wittkower 1).  La Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi can be compared to other fountains in Rome or Paris as far as it has been influenced by those fountains and by the classical styles of Greece, France and Rome. But beyond the basic stylistic direction, the fountain like the cities themselves stands alone. One can hardly compare Paris to Rome when they are as different as they are beautiful; the same goes for fountains.

Bernini’s detractors might reconsider their positions in lieu of the fact that this fountain is indeed functional art, for it tells a meaningful story.  In a general sense, the model in the Piazza Navona illuminates man’s profound struggle to understand himself and the world around him, with special attention granted to the pervading passions of the time (Wittkower xi).   But perhaps the tale of The Fountain of the Four Rivers is best viewed in relationship to water, sine qua non for any life form.  The Greeks, and Far-Eastern civilizations before the pre-Socratics believed as many still do, that the four classical elements: water, earth, fire and wind, inform all of existence. Various philosophies and schedules from around the world are based on the movements of these forces; the fountain sheds light on alternative points of reference.  The four rivers and the four elements represented within the sculpture give breath to the continents of India, Africa, Europe and the Americas.  The fountain is a vibrant celebration of many people, infinite points in time, the artist, the Pamphili, and the source itself. The work is a conceptual representation of the world at large, a sumptuous display both actual and abstract of heaven and earth, both past and present.  Bernini’s Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi is intrinsically awe-inspiring because it was and continues to be in tune with the universe.  Sitting beside this splendid monument on a bustling summer day one can’t help but be absorbed by the mystery and dynamism it illustrates.

Since many have found the wherewithal to survive because of companies like Subway and Little Caesars, it becomes increasingly difficult to argue that these highly profitable businesses are walking away with more than just dollars from their loyal supporters.  The relationship between Americans and fast food chains is for a select few, a symbiotic alliance.  By other conventions it may be more closely ascribed to the bond affiliating host and parasite.  Regardless of where one stands on the matter, the industry is unequivocally providing fiscal as well as edible nourishment to billions of people.  Therein lies accountability and profound responsibility.

When thousands of otherwise law-abiding minimum wage workers have been driven to steal, and too many have been motivated to kill, one has to seek a cause.  Fast food employees are often praised for demonstrating good sales skills though they are seldom rewarded with benefits, permission to unionize, pensions or bonuses.  Some even suffer depression because so little is offered to them or demanded of them; the system leaves little room for promotion or pay raise.  On the other end of the spectrum, the executives living lavishly because of their inflated wages can also be rendered characterless.  Thousands of wealthy people in managerial roles, and their families, are on Prozac, deprived by their attachments to material goods, vacuous spending, and disengagement from any significant role serving the greater good of humanity.  

The gap between rich and poor is growing wider while the line between righteousness and sin is often blurred.  Evidence suggests that more people succeed in an environment where service to others, rather than to egocentric tendencies, is a standard operating procedure.  The fast food industry should be no exception to this practice, especially because it touches the lives of so many innocent and un-educated people.

Oil, gold, agriculture, aerospace technology, computer technology, and the entertainment business are just a few of many industries that contribute to the State of California’s rank among the top ten most prosperous nations in the world.  It counts for 13% of America’s GDP and contributes $100 billion in taxes annually.  It is the most populous state in the union and is home to a magnificent diversity of culture, wildlife and landscape. California, since it became the last stop on the American frontier boasts of plenty, enabling thousands of industrious immigrants to create a better life for themselves and their successors. But as with all things, The Golden State has an easily neglected shadow.

Since American corporations have monopolized the American Dream, the promise of a decent life for the rank and file is further away than ever.  Companies feed the masses, catering to groups rather than to individuals.  By marketing products to children, conglomerates appeal to families, whereby a wholesome image is born.  While their innocent offspring have lured adults to McDonalds and Disney’s land of make-believe, the United States has turned into a seething monster reviled around the world.

The Hollywood machine has blurred the line between fantasy and reality by perpetuating the myth of the easy life often defended by superheroes on screen.  Arnold Schwarzenegger, the Governor of California, epitomizes the link between the fantastic stories depicted in movies and their powerful influence on reality.  Doom and gloom threaten everyone; even exceedingly wealthy people are discouraged by what might lie ahead.  One thing unites us however, and supposedly all we need to fight our common enemies is America’s superhero, the military industrial complex.

Americans have allowed themselves to be misled by junk created for the purpose of making money. Numerous businesses are cajoling us away from the values that were once the lifeblood of our forebears. The hope of the new world is being sabotaged by an addiction to money and mindlessness.  People are so confused and desensitized by clever marketing campaigns they are seldom able to refrain from choosing the very things that are making them miserable.  An excess of dubious propaganda including corporate sponsorship in schools is training new generations of Americans to be helpless against it.

The prospect of reeducating oneself and changing one’s wont may be construed as futile or undesired depending on how you view the current state of affairs. Time has surely proven that the planet can outdo us all and human fortitude pales in comparison to mother earth.  Fighting a cultural war at home might seem like an arduous task better suited for soldiers in Iraq, but a soda and a trip to the movies do not pacify the vision of a future dominated by corporate-sponsored marvels of chemical, biological and technological engineering. Assessing the by-product of our business practices may well give us some control over our destiny, but at this rate the only choice awaiting us will be Coke or Pepsi.
   

Eros should have the day off today. He works 365 days a year, pulls an all-nighter on February 14th, and has been at it since the beginning of time. We should be loving him, sending warm thoughts and creamy chocolates his way. The poor boy deserves payback, he is of course, according to myth, the first born. The progeny of chaos and darkness. As usual, we have it backwards. 

www.takimag.com

"No man is free who is not master of himself." -Epictetus

Can anyone tell me what this means?

SYDNEY, Jan 30 (Reuters Life!) - An Australian psychologist charged with indecently assaulting a patient told a court on Tuesday that forcing his female patient to wear a dog collar and call him master was within a psychologist's ethical guidelines. Psychologist Bruce Beaton, 64, pleaded not guilty in the Western Australia District Court to four charges of indecently assaulting a 22-year-old woman in 2005, local media reported. Beaton was arrested when police, who had been secretly video recording the session with the woman, heard whipping sounds, reported Australian Associated Press from the court. Beaton told the court he resorted to master-servant treatment with his bulimic patient because other methods had failed. He said he thought forcing the woman to wear a dog collar and call him master would build a more trusting relationship. He said such treatment was allowed by the Australian Psychological Society. "It is right within the ethical guidelines," Beaton told the court. "I am not saying it would be all right if I hit her. I did not hit her," he said. The trial continues.

All this talk of aliens, missions from God, a divine plan, please, science my friends, science. There is a reasonable biological explanation for our existence. Any space creatures that may exist are not sitting in some skyhigh control tower plotting our every move. As my fellow mindsayer, desparado, puts it, "So you think we are just all here with no mission or purpose?  Sounds like kind of a haphazzard plan for an investment as valuable as a human life... and especially a human race." The only mission or purpose is the one we give ourselves...

Life is expendable. Death is just as important as life. Valuable to whom? The purpose is up to us. Unless of course you believe in God's divine plan. But even if you do, we are still responsible for our choices, and thus our accomplishments. When we don't have control of ourselves we are incapacitated by fear, sadness and pain. You can describe the failure as an inability to decipher God's mission, or you can chalk it up to people's inability to conquer their own minds. How you frame it is up to you. I prefer to view it logically rather than metaphysically because for me spirituality is faithful, everything else can and should be reasoned. Even true love is found rationally. I don't think we can ever comprehend the reason we are here unless we think of it as a biological evolution.

Gods, aliens and any other incomprehensible justification for existence is obsolete. Enlightenment is within our reach, it is happening and it can be explained. So there!

Why are Chinamen so filthy?

http://www.fucd.com/index.php?link=1030