I Cannot Celebrate Hillary

There is a large element of Democratic and Republican voters in this country who feel betrayed by their parties. Trump and Hillary and their handlers and the establishment big shots in both parties seem oblivious to this fact.

Yes, this is a great country and all of that. But folks, our political system is tragically, disastrously broken. It does not represent the majority of our citizens. Anyone who cannot see that is simply living in some kind of unyielding denial.

I don’t know what will happen in the Republican Party. Their convention this summer will likely be a hot mess. But I can assure you, with all of the condescending calls from Hillary’s cheerleaders to dismiss Bernie supporters, the Democratic convention will be no less chaotic. All the pundits have declared her the nominee and many even the president. To discount so many with that kind of disdainfulness may very well create shocking consequences at the convention.

There are groups of people in America who have known and still know something about oppression: the Black community; Latinos; Gays; Women; the poor; War Veterans; the disabled. Oppression of any measure humiliates and stifles a person’s sense of self. It shuts people out. It ignores their most pressing needs. It mocks their calls for help. It fosters unrest and violence.

Our current political system is an oppressive system for millions of Americans. It is run by men and women who have sold any amount of integrity they may have possessed to a system of bribery and utter corruption. Their dereliction of duty is not condemned it is instead purchased and rewarded as payment for doing the bidding of venal, abusive, amoral villains dressed in expensive suits and sitting in the highest places of finance, military defense, and corporate America. These people run the nation and have no interest in the millions of citizens they intentionally keep beneath them.

Because we have this obsession with being superior, with having it all; because we want what celebrities have; because we hate change; because we are afraid; we have then forsaken the values that made us pioneers, explorers, inventors, poets and dreamers, and we have grown shallow, lazy, small-minded, crude, stingy and vulgar.

Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump exemplify our moral shame which many of us have yet to even sense much less own. We as a nation are so consumed with the superficial and the platitudinous, with toys and trinkets, with gold and silver, with instant pleasure and ethical disregard, that we have become unrecognizable as a people of virtue, courage, dignity and intelligence.

The idea that Hillary Clinton is far superior to Donald Trump is a deceit concocted by corrupt plutocrats who call themselves Democrats and by a media that is so miserably unprofessional and mercenary they are an embarrassment and a pathetic insult to thinking people. There is then little light between Clinton and Trump. They both put their own interests above the needs of the American people. It’s not about politics for either of them. It’s about personal wealth and power.

Hillary and Trump supporters can celebrate all they want. The truth is, we are not the country we say we are. And neither of them will change that.

We are Made for Human Connection

There are words from Brandi Carlile’s song, “The Story,” that I might sing, and perhaps you, too. “All of these lines across my face Tell you the story of who I am So many stories of where I've been And how I got to where I am But these stories don't mean anything When you've got no one to tell them to” You don’t have to be single or alone to feel the depth of those words. Someone in a longtime marriage or relationship might feel them, too. The voyage through life takes each one of us through an assortment of experiences. Some of them ennoble us. Some crush us. Some lift us beyond ourselves and carry us into the lives of those who need us. And some carry us to those we need. Some experiences are burdens. Others ease and encourage us. Some leave us baffled and unsure. Some build confidence within us and are so affirming that we grow in substance, in courage, in tenderness, and sympathy. As we age, the lines in our faces can represent the hurts we have not yet resolved. Or t

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want

Remembering Dr. Bill Craig

In Memoriam Dr. Bill Craig January 1, 2020 In the Hebrew Bible, we see from the life of Moses, and the Psalmist, Isaiah and others , concern for the problem of living rather than the problem of dying. Their primary interest was not how to escape death, but rather, how to sanctify life. Bill modeled that kind of wisdom. The brilliant novelist Louis L'Amour, who wrote bestselling books about the American West, what he called “frontier stories,” basically said the same thing. He wrote, “The trail is the thing, not the end of the trail.” No one attempted to sanctify life and get more out of the trail than Bill Craig. He was a deep thinker, a gifted veterinarian, a rugged and unbreakable man with the kindest heart and the purest motives. He was a loving and devoted husband, father, and grandfather. Karen, Shalor and Melissa, Kellan, Nolan and Carter, were his world. They meant everything to him. I guess he had faults, but I don’t remember any of them. There was o

The Unclad Soul

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