The Machines in which we Flow

    I was taking a nap after playing basketball this morning, and I had a dream or thought with that title. I fell asleep reading some from the book, a classic, The Road by Cormac McCarthy. We loves days off, do we not? I work some Saturdays, but not today.

    I also wanted to write about some college basketball. But first, I must mention that Israel and the United States have struck Iran all over their country, Iran has retaliated, and it looks like the Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei is dead.

    So, those posts can be for the near future. In sha' allah.

    Where do we find ourselves? In these machines that I had a notion of.

    We have governments, militaries, businesses, religions, in which we find ourselves ensconced. Some say it has a lot to do with race and ethnicity. Fair enough, for many people their birth in "White Privilege" allows them a step or three ahead of others. Their parents raise them in a healthier atmosphere, with nice homes, good neighborhoods, travel and good or excellent education, inheritances from previous generations...

    Whereas Blacks or African-Americans, in large numbers of cases, claim the opposite. Many Latinos have similar complaints of none of the above. Hard work can only make up so much, many claim. Rare are the poor, be they brown, black, or white or Asian, or any other ethnic background.

    How are we at math? Does this lead to strong careers in engineering, or other STEM professions. What about law, or medicine? So many people excel in these fields, create wealth for themselves and others, primarily their children.

    Entertainment can bring wealth and success to an elite few.

    Writing, in all its forms. 

    Many of us ride in the middle, we struggle or live at our means or at our desires for modicums of success.

    We move and travel according to our whims, fancies, desires, our capacities and financial availabilities. Some rich folks die in airplane or helicopter crashes, because they had the economic means to go that way, but it became tragic. Kobe Bryant had everything, but he died like a poor man with a junky car, who could not withstand a treacherous highway.

    Luck, fate, and God can play itself into all of our machines, our systems, our ways of living.

    Surviving, thriving, struggling, making it.

    What machines of life do you find yourself in?

    If not in our country, where else do you find yourself? 

    Can you go where you like to go?