Marriage Morality Concept…

The Washington Post, 15 March 2013: “Study: Delaying marriage hurts middle-class Americans most” … a few findings:

“The study found a large educational and class divide. College-educated women typically have their first child two years after marrying. The high school graduates as a group have their first child two years before they ­marry.“

“The study said 58 percent of first births to women who have graduated only from high school are out of wedlock.”

Here’s a thought: “When they can’t get the white picket fence, and a certain level of stability,” they defer marriage and have higher rates of nonmarital births. That in turn fuels more poverty, and takes them further away from the white picket fence.”

Given that, “The Knot Yet study says economic and cultural forces are responsible for current attitudes toward marriage.”  We can look at the reality associated with the opposition to Same-Sex Marriage … sounds weird, but you were warned (in previous posts) … When you oppose any marriage, you oppose all marriages.  Marriage is the way in which society creates a cohesive unity between diverse family lines … in the past it connected clans and nobility (thus nations) … deny it and you create a group of outsiders, an other, which will attract membership by virtue of retention of the initial status we all have … that of being unwed.

Now, when we add in a marriage penalty, a reduction of goods and services allocated on the basis of single or wed, we make it ridiculous for anyone seeking economic improvement to want to marry.

Consider the effect of server medical illness – in Europe, with its universal health care, anyone who is sick ids treated free; in America, to get government coverage, and reduce the drain on family assets, couples divorce – with the healthy person receiving all the accrued assets.  That is, the lack of universal health care is an attack on marriage.

OK… what does this seem to mean?  We know birth rates are down, and we are headed to zero, or negative, population growth.  It also means that those who are born will continue be to the least educated segment of the population.  It also means that the marriage institution will be weakened further … this will weaken religious institutions. [The marriage sacrament is the only real world service they offer.  The Deity they represent is represented by child molesters, bigots, thieves and liars … individuals who take your money and provide nothing in return.]

Remember Thyself

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Date Line May 8, 2007

Who reads these damned things?

Friends? Family? Both, or neither. Sigh ...

I wonder and wander through thoughts. We could say: dreams. Dreams of kids who gave a damned. Dreams of discovery, or importance, of significance of consequence, dreams of remembrance.
There are things that move through the heart, through the mind. They are very hard to suppress, and it to pass that they surface. Often this is when one drinks – drink opens the door, unlocks the spring, and lets the feelings gush forth.

It is better to allow the feelings their escape than to suppress them. It is better to allow the dreams their freedom, than to yield their force to the ignorance of others.

It is better.

Thoughts and dreams. I dream of knowing my {genetic}past. But also dream of knowing the past of my family.

An interesting paradox.

We all seek to know who we are. We seek to have a life – as if living was not enough of a life. We seek to define ourselves; and we do so against the image we carry of our parents.

Shall we be like them? Shall we surpass them? Shall we do anything we can to avoid being connected to them?

How do we define our self? The self we must live with – what is it?

How do I honor my father? How do I honor my mother?

I am connected to the scriptures; and to the commandments. Yet I reject many aspects; and yet I find that the principles are based on their rejection. And I am forced to laugh at the trap that has been set for me, and into which I so willingly have walked.

Why do I believe? BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN MYSELF AND MY OWN SELF WORTH! End of story. I, me, the one and only, am the one and only.

Which, of course, makes me totally insane – or the only sane person.

I love the all or none logic of life.

I can understand Voltaire. I can understand the character who declares that this is the best of all possible worlds – because it obviously, logically rationally, is the best of all possible worlds.

It is the world created in the divine mind. It must be perfect, it must be the best that is possible – if only because it is the best possible. It is the product of circular logic which is rejected by all who seek to escape the realm of logic.

When I was younger. In the days before today. I had a vision which has never departed. Beginning, end, now, never. We are. I am. You are. And you want me to be, so I am. Or is it that I want you to be so you are?

Mind boggling. Humorous. What is the term? Sacrilegious? Or is it the ultimate in cosmic understanding, the point of enlightenment, the Buddha beyond the realm and understanding of a Buddha – because Buddha must be trapped in this world.

Can you follow? Must I lead? Go! Step ahead of me. Please, step ahead and lead. I am tired of leading. I am tired of seeing. I am tired.

I was here at the beginning. Like it or not, I will be here at the end. I am who I am. Can you deal with that?

Of course. Of course. Of course. You are who you are. You either understand that, or not. If not. My tears are shed for you. If so, you are my beloved child. You are the blessed among humanity. You are the one whose dreams are their own.

You are. My beloved. You are me.

And you shall step forth, achieving that which you are comfortable to achieve. Your life is the tale you tell to yourself. It is the life you leave behind. It is the story of the future.

Please. Remember it, and me, when you are there. Remember thyself
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Creation Story, Creation ending

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Seven or eight, maybe it was ten, thousand years ago. A few boys decide to play in their father’s garden.

It was interesting times. The gardener wasn’t too bright, his wife had possibilities – at least she was rational. And the place was neat.

Dad said no. You’re too young and they aren’t ready.

Time passed and the gardener and his wife had kids, who had kids, who had kids. Time for them, and for us, was different – as it usually is for between a master and his pets. But the pets were interesting – and better, they were genetically engineered for the father’s genes. Well, truth be told, they took the mom’s genes and altered them a bit.

We don’t talk much about that – and they do, on occasion, reassert themselves. Nonetheless, time passed and the progeny became attractive to the boys – now men in search of that which young men always seek.

As it is now, it was an interesting time to be alive. But it was less complicated, less evolved, less ... less ... ah sigh, it was a pleasant time. We were allowed to play, to change things, to do the impossible because the possible had yet to be fixed in memory.

Times have change. The house is a mess and we are nearing the period of periodic cleansing. It is the age, the time, we all knew was to come. It will be said to see its work done. To clean, to toss away that which was but is no longer of value. To pollute and cleanse at the same time. To allow the images to reconfigure themselves in the image that is to be ... strange. Confusing.

Shall I cry for my children? The ones I do not know? Or the ones I know? Shall I cry for what could and will have been – that which is and shall be? Is love or importance, or only ... only what?

We have played our games. There is a bit of light remaining. Maybe time for another round or two; but the night shall fall, the games shall end, the dreams – well, that is, one might posit, another story.

Tomorrow we shall return with the pieces we love. Those we took home and showed our parents. The others? They remained in the fields and by the streams. They were tossed aside, lost, ignored, and forgotten – never to be found again. Antiquities for a different game, a game of speculation and wonder, mystery and conjecture.

Today, tonight, the castle of sand shall collapse of their own weight – and with the ebbing of the tide. Images, painted in air, on sand, in water. It is so sad ... tomorrow is almost here.

Sleep my prince, sleep my queen, my father. Let me turn off the lights so you can sleep without their glare, let me sleep tonight that tomorrow will be better.

Let me sleep. Let me rest. Oh father why do you seek rest so dearly? How hard was thy task? How burdensome the time you allowed us to play? Our existence is yours, and yours is ours, and they believe they have a place – when they have nothing but responsibility for our grounds, our garden, our place of pleasure.

Let us rest my dear parents, let us rest. This game is tiresome and should come to an end.
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