Tag Archive | ignorance

And this is why tumbler annoys me –

My son was Googling my name for fun, because it’s super fun to Google your ma’s name when it pops up all over the place, and he stumbled across a tumbler thingy calling ME out for a pin I pinned on Pinterest forever ago. I have no clue how old this tumblarity is, but I kind of wanted to address it, plus, I’m a little bored – sooo . . .

**For clarifications sake, the portion of this I am referring to is inside the yellow box there on the right, the rest is my response.

Swimming Upstream

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Stephen Hawking says artificial intelligence could end the human race. Seems to me most humans themselves are filled with their own version of artificial intelligence, commonly called ignorance, and it is most certainly a danger to the human race.

They pretend to be knowledgable while reciting recycled rhetoric as if they understand what they loudly proclaim to be fact from pedestals of phony or misplaced indignation and laughable morality.

The real thinkers, the real keepers of truth and wisdom are growing silent, tired of trying to be heard above the cacophony of noise surrounding them. Tired of being tormented and persecuted for interjecting ideas and solutions and thought which go against the tide of poisoned waters streaming freely through society.

I hope they do not grow to weary. We need them.

I’ll not apologize for swimming upstream, away from the stagnant pool awaiting to swallow those satisfied with going with the flow.

Crystal R. Cook

They were the faces of the future

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My heart is broken tonight. I do not think it is right, moral, constructive, beneficial, or whatever pitiful reasons are spewed by those who plaster the faces of the innocent lost to hateful war on our television screens, our computers, magazines and newspapers. It’s shameful.

People need to know, I get it. We cannot forget the horrors of war. Report to me of the inconceivable acts man can inflict upon man. Tell me of the innocents lost, of the mothers who will never again hold their children . . . I understand the world needs to know of the atrocities being committed.

We need to feel the loss, sadness, anger, or whatever it is we need to feel for whatever reasons we need to feel it. I don’t really know what we need anymore. This world doesn’t seem capable of learning from the mistakes of the past, we condemn them while we continue to repeat and perfect them.

To see the body of a child, ravished by the unspeakable, should be incomprehensible and yet without respect, their images are shoved before our faces. Those were somebody’s children. Not men or women willingly walking into war, aware of the risks, they were somebody’s children.

There is no honor in using their deaths to show how ugly the enemy is, the young on all sides have been murdered. A mother’s grief should never be exploited, her cries and her tears as she falls to her knees in despair have no right to be broadcast for all to see.

All of the back and forth, hashtag prayers for whatever side your political preferences favor are self-serving. Pray for them all. For us all.

Faces of what should have been the future,
children lost to war, tears of terror-stricken mothers,
images of grief-wrought faces twisted in hopeless despair.
They splash across our screens without warning,
burning themselves into our hearts.
Not to avenge, but to incite, no respect for the lost,
no respect for the left behind.
See this child of our country? See his lifeless eyes staring
into your soul? The blood is on their hands, not our own.
They sacrifice the innocent, casualties of war
dying for political rhetoric and vengeful hate.
Senseless. Selfish. Pathetic.
Children become pawns in the bloody battles of cowards hiding
behind babies, sending them to kill with weapons
to heavy for them to bear, burdens that will bury them.
Sickened by the loss, disgusted by those who see
death and destruction as answers to peace.
Peace means victory to an ignorant beast.
Men without honor, people without purpose, countries without pride.
Mine. Yours. Theirs.
Children are dying while men lament the loss of the battle,
disregarding the lives lain waste to their foolishness.
Online are the faces of their victims, precious children
born into and killed by the vile grudges and grievances of man.
They show them, God help us, they show them.
Their little faces photographed and shared without regard
for the sanctity of who they were or what they may have become.
They deserved better in life, they deserve better still than to be used as
propaganda to perpetuate the purposes of those bent on taking more lives. They were faces that should have been the future.

Crystal R. Cook

In a chamber of glass

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In a chamber
made of glass,
I sit for all to see.

Vulnerable.

Nothing
between me
and their
conclusions.

I’ve no immunity
in their court,
there is no aid
for my defense.

Condemned
without trial,
sentenced
without
judgement.

Eyes blinded
by ignorance
detest what they
don’t understand.

They know not
who I am yet
I sit, prisoner
of their stares,
behind this fragile
piece of glass.

If it should break
would my
world shatter?

The shards, will they
pierce my heart
or set me free?

My prison
is my sanctuary,
my sanctuary
is my prison.

I sometimes
long for escape,
though I revel
in my solitude.

When I close
my eyes
they disappear.

Perhaps I shall sleep,
in wakeful dream,
and they will have
nothing more to see.

Crystal R. Cook

 

What if we chose?

What if we chose?

It begins within, listening to our hearts, not the world around us. I choose . . . we all have a choice.

How much of how we feel about our fellow man has been dictated by the prejudice of others? Resentments from the sins and sorrows of those who have come before us remain, festering and growing in their absence. We feed them, we nurture them and we pass them on.

We copy and paste them into our own psyche, we adopt them without question. Sheep following an unseen shepherd to the slaughter. I too often hear people trying to justify and defend their attitudes and opinions with false arguments and phony indignation.

The thoughts they think are not their own, merely recycled resentments inherited from family, friends and foes of people they may have never known. Willingly passing on these ideals to the next generation without questioning why.

If we stopped to think for ourselves, would we see their experiences are not our own? Would we realize we have shaped our world based on the broken model of theirs? Would we notice we’ve damaged it even more in the name of progress and change? Would we see we can’t look at our own experiences through the tainted lenses of the past?

Our country is more divisive and separated and prejudice than it was before many of us took our first breath of life. Our society has managed to twist the dreams that once were, we have found new ways to undermine each other, to build walls of separation as we pretend to tear them down.

We say we want equality in this country but equality is just a concept, it can never be achieved, especially when everyone who cries out for it seems to want more than the rest. There can never be equality while there are those who have no means to even stand in line to receive it.

We use the word acceptance when what we really want is applause. We fight for what we call human rights when we have forgotten what human rights really are. We fight for freedom of expression but place restrictions upon it. We right for freedom of religion but we really want everyone to agree with our own beliefs . . . at least that is what we accuse each other of, slowly molding it into a reality.

The needs of the some have become more important than the needs of the many. We champion the criminals and forget their victims. We shout platitudes to placate the masses in a cacophony of false hopes and empty promises. The ones who fight for our country are now second in line to those who invade it.

We are broken by the choices we’ve made . . . Soon, their won’t be enough to mend.