From Shechem to Shiloh

From Shechem to Shiloh-- The Tribe of Ephraim Reigns in Foreordained Righteousness

    Reading through the Bible Dictionary the other night, I read of both Shechem and Shiloh. Not too far apart, early settlement cities in the land of the growing Israel. What was Israel? Twelve tribes, all descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, perpetuating the sons and daughters of Jacob cum Israel, for four hundred years under the Pharoahs of Egypt, down along the banks of the long and life-sustaining Nile. El Neel, the Arabs call it.

    

    Arabs. Fast forward over 3,000 years and we are here still.

    And, unbeknownst to the majority of the religious and the secular worlds, there are Ephraimites, sons and daughters of Ephraim, son of Joseph of Egypt, still roaming the earth.  Not only roaming earth in small packs and little communities, but pretty well organized and forceful, dynamic in their own way.

    Who, pray tell, do I refer to? Myself and a few million others. I am an Ephraimite, of the tribe of Ephraim. That is the belief within the surface beliefs of which I am part and privy to. I am enmeshed in it, as surely as I was born and raised in the faith of my parents, they who chose it for themselves and their family as young married adults. Grafted in, I am.

    And the plan of God as we know it involves many or most of us children, but the seed of the knowledge of the seeds must be known.

    Within the Holy Bible and the other holy scriptures of our modern age, which those of my faith call the Book of Mormon, and the Pearl of Great Price, and our more modern Doctrine and Covenants, and the constant orders, or invitations, of the holy men and women of God that lead us in the latter-days.

    The world, and others who believe that they are divinely inspired, as mentioned both the religious and secular, would mock or rule out of some kind of automatic necessity that the Book of Mormon were false. Not enough historical or scientific evidence. Those that are through and through convinced of the Bible, or the Torah, or the Quran, or the numerous ancient Sanskrit writings of the Hindus, will declaim it, these 15 books translated by a young American Joseph Smith, who was known as a treasure seeker, scally wag and a scandalous figure, until his precocious death at 38 and a half.

    All a made-up fantasy or hoax by an unhinged religious leader? Was he another charismatic psychotic cult leader, planning and scheming his visions and perhaps maniacal machinations of God and His future kingdom on Earth? There were such religious leaders of the past, to include Moses, or David, or up until Jesus Christ Himself.

    How many radical leaders among men must bring up their own agendas and organizations of power and sweeping movements? Forever in history, in India or China or Europe, across the river valleys of Africa or the plains of Latin America, be he King of the Aztecs or Inca of the Quechua. 

    Was the Book of Mormon unburied from the ground for the latter-days? Or does it all go against God's will, as some purposeful deception? Are the Latter-day Saints deceived and following an erroneous trail, as so many of all sides accusatively decry?

    Well, those are large and bold allegations on both sides.

    From time immemorial we have arguments of who can claim true authority, who can claim right to God and His rights. Jewish, Christian, and Muslims of the Abrahamic traditions have posited hopes and foundations of the first fathers and mothers, from Adam and Eve, who battled with the Adversary Lucifer himself, the Master of All Lies, and on through the fathers and sons and generations, who had to overcome their trials and tribulations.

    And then there are the innumerous secular scientists and even philosophers who rule out any connection to an upper power, to God, or Jesus, or the Hindu Gods, or anything else beyond the realm of what is empirically proven. Sight. Sound. Touch. Smell. Taste.

    Logic and rationale? What of those? 

    It can be hard to make sense of all things, especially foolishness and evil. Those exist, I believe that we can all admit. But, the atheists would rule those attributes and characteristics as simply parts of the evolutionary cycle of life and survival.

    Back to Ephraim. Each of the 12 tribes of Jacob, of ancient Israel, was promised blessings and foreordained inheritances well into the future. Reuben, the eldest, had his place as all the rest. Joseph was the dream and was beloved of Jacob, therefore sold into slavery. He became the Savior of his family, which led to eventual bondage in Egypt.

    When they made it back under Joshua and Aaron, the tribe of Moses, the Levites, settled and conquered across the holy land bequeathed to Abraham, their distant patriarch, the one belonging to all of us, that we share still into the 21st century, the sons of Levi had the priesthood to run the affairs and covenants and ordinances of the faith, but it was the Tribe of Ephraim that led in the first settlements, Shechem, then Shiloh.

    Who is in charge today? Who claims the power and authority of the priesthood, the right of God on Earth? We believe that is of Ephraim, alongside with Manasseh. 

    Most of the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are we, we are Ephraimites and Manassites.  Descended and inherited claimers and holders of the true lineage of God.

    High and bold, deep claims. This is who we are, this is what we are.

    We speak of the foundational truths that make up our passage to the heavens, to guide us to return to our God and Creator, Father in Heaven, and His Son Jesus Christ. These plans and commands are made manifest in the New Testament, the script that guides most Christian believers in the world today.

    Yet there is more. It does not come from the Book of Mormon alone, but it comes from instructions and revelations given to what we believe to be God's anointed and consecrated since the restoration of the Church in April of 1830.

    It has not been perfect, it has had its flaws. But it has established itself on every continent and clime, and continues to grow.

    Who is at its head, or what Tribe of Israel leads the way in leadership today? Ephraim.

    As promised in the Bible and the other holy writs. As promised by the Lord's anointed today, as many of us believe. It seems like foolish inventions and childish creations in the eyes of the greater world.

    But these are the tribesmen put in charge of Shechem and then Shiloh, back in 1200 or so before Christ. And now, there is another round under the auspices of Ephraimites today, in 2025. With Manasseh right along.

    Confused? We have to do some more analysis, study, and homework.

    Get on it, Tribes of Jacob. This is who we are, and what we are spiritually and physically seeking and committing to.

    Blog on.

Sports Wrap Up, End of January 31, 2025

 Sports Wrap Up, End of January 31, 2025baseball 

    Ugh, I get too invested in my sports teams. Like: my Indiana Hoosiers.

    The men, much more than the women. I root for the women quite a bit, too. My dad and step-mother attend most of their home games. It's home. The men have always meant a lot to me. Winning, losing, and everything in between. We are Indiana.

    I will write more about IU and Purdue later. The triumphs, successes, and the travails. Both have had them.

    But first: tennis, then football, then basketball. Taking a break from baseball and stats, something that I have been doing lately. Baseball. Less painful, perhaps less passionate and involved. We can be more distanced and analytical about it. So we like to analyze from afar and stay cool.

    Basketball gets much more personal. As does some football.

    TENNIS: Jannik Sinner, the red head, of Italy, wins over Zverev, the German with the Russian name. I watched it, and I wanted Zverev to do better. Maybe get his first grand slam. Sinner got his third overall, his second in a row in Melbourne. Njokovic pulled out in the quarters (?) with a ripped muscle in his ham string, I think. The Americans were eliminated, sequentially, but I think they are gaining ground. Ben Shelton went the farthest. Frances Tiafoe shows promise, but comes up short. Like Paul and Fritz.

    The American woman won it all! Madison Keys? Yes, I think so. Good upset of Swiatek, or whichever non-US woman was favored. I think Swiatek is Polish. A favored number one, but the women are harder to predict than the men.

    The Italian with the German name beats the German with the Russian name. Great stuff. Nadal the Spaniard is done. Federer the Swiss man has been done for a while. Ready for the new generations. All know Carlos Alcaraz is the beast. We shall see.

    Tennis. French on the clay courts next in a couple months. Go USA! Us Americans can do it! This year, me thinks.

    Tennis.

    Then, football. I will talk the pros. Then some college, I guess.

    The Eagles are going to play the Chiefs in New Orleans. A rematch, and the Kansas City team will go for a record third win in a row. Oh, yeah. Talking about the Super Bowl. I wanted their opponents, both the Buffalo Bills and the other one. Who was it? Baltimore? Or... No! The Washington Commanders! The local team! Of course, Jaden Daniels et al were brilliant this year. Best run since 1991. And now they are our local guys.

    Kyle Van Noy, one of my favorite BYU players of all time, made the All-Pro Bowl for the first time. Age 34, pretty impressive. Colts folded early, and always rooting for my BYU and IU guys. Allgier for the Falcons and others.

    Ohio State cleaned up on Notre Dame. The only two teams to beat IU. Indiana had an amazing season. Cignetti back up the bravado and more. My BYU team surpassed expectations and killed the Colorado Buffaloes, which I watched from the California mansion, before I got the norovirus bad.

    December came in with shingles and went out went out with painful throwing up and the runs. Oy ve, mein herr.

    Time for basketball? The Celts have shown themselves to be vulnerable. Many teams have a chance. I would like someone new, as usual. So, why not the Pacers? Maybe not quite there yet, but there are quite a few that could do it.

    And... college? BYU is more trustable than my Hooser boys. Canon Catchings was clutch the other night. And, alas, Indiana was good enough to beat Maryland and Purdue... But we did not!

    UConn should keep losing, I hope. The IU non-commit is not healthy. McSorley. Cooper Flagg at Duke is 18, and they are good. Alabama, Auburn, ... Purdue is good, but Indiana can be right there. That top screen, the guards were getting around it. Too many clutch things for the Boilers, and IU made great plays, but choked at the end.

    Like so many other times. Showing encouragement, compared to the other earlier blow outs.

    Best case scenario for NCAA championship? Still Hoosiers and Cougars, until we are smashed out of it. Not: UConn, or Kentucy. Or Kansas. North Carolina may not make it. Maryland or Michigan State would be all right. Even Purdue. Utah does not have the chances.

    Okay, that is my report for now.

    No, I lied. Cavaliers would be cool. Maybe Grizzlies, or Timberwolves. What about the Houston Rockets? But, yeah, Pacers all the way.

    Peace out and blog on.

 Sports is Easy, Compared to Finance and Politics

    I have read some topics and books that get into heaviness lately. I finished up Mein Kampf a couple months ago, which was hard and a slog, but I think worth it. Now, I am almost halfway through The Art of the Deal, by none other than the 47th president and his partner writer Tony Schwarz, who apparently later regretted it. Famous last misdeeds.

    But if it had not been Schwarz, it likely would have been someone else. And if not Adolph, perhaps it would have been some other German Emperor. Or, if the World War had not damaged the Soviet Russians so much, to the devastating amount of their millions of troops, citizens, and assets, perhaps the U.S.S.R. would have ended up taking much more than they would eventually. Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Afghanistan for ten years was enough. Perhaps the Third Reich prevented the Iron Curtain in becoming a huge Iron-gloved Behemoth of Communism encircling the whole Earth. We could all be living and suffering like the Chinese or North Koreans or the 2020s despotic Putinland Russia of what nightmares they go through now, and make themselves wretched and failing projected across the would-be free world as we are now. 

    And maybe Israel would never have come together as it did, overnight, and displaced hundreds of thousands of Palestinians, the forever behind the times Arabs who cannot find their footing or sovereignty, cozying up to Iran and the Shia to wield some leverage against their overseers.

    Okay. Enough of that. I sort of mentioned finance in the above, what with New York builders and buyers and the Communist Marxist plan for all mankind. And women, too. All of us have been in the mind's eye of Karl Marx and Frederich Engels, and Leon Trotsky and the rest of the world planners, thank you very much.

    Oh, those would-be empire builders of Germany and Russia thwarting the traditional powers of France and England, and soon to be the United States.

    Yes, us, the hegemon that we are.

    Where sports can seem to drive the economy. That is simpler, easier. Nobody dies, usually. There are injuries and injustices, but no one loses their shirt like the poor oppressed by awful landlords, or despotic chancellors and supreme leaders. Thugs and autocrats, filling the long history of humankind. Not enough women included, that seems to be a sad and veritable truth.

    Yes, sports are easier and nicer. Human power and the wielding of influence and law get sticky, messy, and maybe way too complicated for our brains to truly grasp and deal with.

    Books and tomes, archives and classes and now podcasts may treat all these ills and issues.

    In the next two posts I will discuss the tennis, football, and basketball seasons as they are winding up.

    And then: Negro league great baseball players, based on their on base percentages!

    How American is that?

    Blog on, my bloggadocios.

    Blogging on into the night...

 IU Plays Itself out of  Great, Close Win

    Ugh! We played good enough to win, and then bad enough to lose.

    Man, after, some terrible blow outs, including one they had some chances against Northwestern (Mike Woodson has gone 0-5 against them since his four years at the helm in Bloomington), and a scrappy and somewhat lucky win at Ohio State, and just being demoralized by Illinois at Assembly Hall in our friendly but unfriendly confines (Fire Mike Woodson!).

    We gave up too many three pointers, then played some defense, went ahead, and Anthony Leal was so clutch!

    So Woodson took him out for the final possession! Ugh.

    We lost on a terrible turn around corner attempt by Rice, who had been clutch and huge until then.

    IU is 5-5 in the Big Ten, and Purdue at West Lafayette is next.

    We have to play better. And be better coached.

    Mgbako played pretty well, and Ballo and Reneaux missed some bunnies. And yeah, senior Tre Galloway missed his one and one to let Maryland have the chance to their lead.

    Free throws! I like the Terps, I root for them most nights, not this one. Oh, it started at noon, caught the second half after my special stake conference.

    We should be at least 6-4 now. But then again, one make by OSU in Ohio would already have us sub .500.

    Hoosiers.

    Man, we get in our own way.

 

Mexico: An Itinerant History Chapter 8 La Bufadora and Ensenada Tercera Parte

Eighteen of us went to three sites of Baja California North.

Each of us with our own windows, our own views, own biases.

    In this group I was the oldest. Maybe by five years. Or six.

    Me, 54. An older guy, at last. I started writing of my itinerant journeys when I was younger, in 2002 at age 31. I have let the years go by. This book continues. It follows me. Whenever I go back to Mexico, more must be added. Plus, I did not write enough about it back then, either.

    Then there is the next oldest uncle, who did a mission in Philippines. The northern part where people say it gets cool. He has been back to the archipelago twice. He liked it there. Like his siblings, he grew up going to the nice Ensenada beaches. Of all the eight children, I think my wife ended up going to Mexico the most, especially after marrying me.

    His wife is about the same age. She grew up in Utah; I am not sure how much she ever went to Mexico in her youth. She moved to southern California for college, and there met the second oldest of our party. They are raising their four children in Utah now, one who attends college in Idaho.

    There was the other married-in father like me, (we both joined the big California family in the year 2000) who now lives in Texas. He would have been the fourth oldest of us, like 8 years younger than me, about 46. His wife was back in Ensenada with mine. This brother-in-law grew up in suburban southern California, his family did not have a lot of money, and I do not think that he took many trips to Mexico as a youth. Maybe with the Scouts? He worked in Mexico many weeks as young man before he served his mission in Chile. Even though he has spent those times in Mexico and Chile, I am not sure if he has kept up with his Spanish as much as me. But he is still bilingual, conversant.

    The oldest cousin was 24 or so. He spent the mission time in southwest Mexico City. COVID cut it short, so he finished in Utah. Spanish speaking. He had done this same trip to Ensenada with his buddies a year before. We talked about his time and impressions in the country. I may have told him about this book. I cannot remember. It has been about a month now since the voyage. Time makes things so much less sure.

    Then there is my 23-year-old. She spent some vacations in Mexico as a baby, spent some good pre-school time in Chile, as well as attended a Spanish branch in California as a toddler, went back to Mexico in recent years as a vacationer, to include the Gulf and the Yucatan, and Tijuana. She has taken some college Spanish, despite taking French for three years in middle and high school. She is intent on learning fluent Spanish and has thought of living in a Spanish speaking country.

    The next oldest is about 22, and now engaged to be married. She spent a year and half in the Phoenix< Arizona area, doing a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Spanish, which means that she was in and among many Mexicans and Mexican-Americans. In many ways I would expect Mexico to be homey in many ways to her. She has visited different parts of Mexico with her family, like Puerto Penasco on the Sea of Cortez, or the Yucatan a few years ago near Christmas time, when my wife and children were able to ride along.

    Then there is the oldest of the Utah family, who is studying in Idaho, dedicated to theatre production and staging. She is wrapped up in the world of the arts, which can touch on Mexico, but usually takes people into the music, narratives, and spectacles of the stage and the arts. Mexico has not played a large part of the world stage, but Mexico does present a colorful venue for the imagination, I would argue.

    How many of us was that so far? 

    Me. 54. One.

    Uncle Tagalog 47. Two.

    Wife from Utah. 47. Three.

    California Uncle Gone Texas. 46. Four.

    Oldest male cousin, served in Mexico. Five

    Oldest female cousin, lived in Chile. Six.

    Second oldest female cousin Spanish speaking in Arizona. Seven.

    Third oldest female cousin in theatre. Eight.

    Only ten more to go! All minors. No, my son going to school in Idaho is an adult.

    See if I can get this right.

    Oldest son in Idaho school, male. Nine.

    Oldest Utah cousin. Male. Ten.

    Second oldest male cousin from Texas. Eleven.

    Then my son, a junior in high school? Twelve.

    Next oldest from Texas, male. Thirteen.

    Next oldest from Utah, female. Fourteen.

    

    Four more. The youngest.

    Youngest boy from Texas. Eighteen.

    Youngest girl, also from Texas. Seventh grader. Seventeen.

    My girl, now in 8th grade. Sixteen.

    Who does that leave? Oh, the youngest from Utah, male. Fifteen. 

    There were all of us, taking a well paid chartered bus, or van, squished, through the relatively busy roads and side streets of Ensenada, out to La Bufadora. The third oldest, or oldest male, father of the most present, played Mexican music on his phone. I spoke to the nephew who lived in Mexico City (las afueras); he beat us living and staying in Mexico all put together.

    But me, I liked to see more of the place, think of it, analyze it. Now write this compendium of sorts.

        Me, I am over halfway through my life. Hard to say, no one knows, how much we have left. How much on this mortal plain, this worldly realm. The other adults likely have less time than all these youngsters.

    Who else will live in Mexico as a missionary?  Among us, that is the most likely way that we would live there. Possibly work could take us there. More pleasure in future trips and cruises, perhaps more ruins to explore. 

    What could be my last trip there? I planned to go to one or two more border towns, in the rental car the time after we returned, to Los Algodones and San Luis de something. I wanted to see and taste and smell a little bit more. But we brought the norovirus back with us, and it was impossible to feel in any way able to go back. To be able to say that I have known more of the country, but obviously to know more of the ever 

    The sea was beautiful, the waves were cold and blue, with white caps, rocks running out to sea. This blow hole attracted thousands. We walked down the dead end, lined with dozens, almost hundreds of vendors and their shops, hawking their wares. It some senses this type of sales has been going on for thousands of years. People cooking their hot plates and long grills, heating up their meats or vegetables, calling out in Spanish or sometimes English, maybe a little Japanese or Chinese thrown in there, because certain words or phrases might turn the sale for the people from a dozen plus tourist cultures. 

    Why not the blow hole, some from far off Tokyo or Shanghai, might say?

    We entertained ourselves among the shoppers and the crowds and the hustlers and the sellers, the cooks and less-than-fortunate who attempt to sell something, anything. Where do they all come from? This Mexico. It is third world, or "developing" when you go there.

    We were supposed to meet back at the bus at 12:30, to get back to the city, which is close to an hour away. My 16 year-old son and the oldest niece, 22, did not get the memo, and we waited a good while for them to return. Whoops. Group of 18. 

    

    We also wanted to keep an adult with each group, but that did not always work out. What did we buy? Each had their things. I bought some "Mexican candy", which we ate weeks later here in Virginia, well past the norovirus. Aye, how it went through us. I did not expel it until after my first day back from work. I scrambled, by the way, to get the paid leave from my annual days off. It was in the last moment when Pepe Biden, or President Joe, gave one more day for me to account for the time away. Last hour, really, which was silly. It worked.

    I suffered 5 days of diarrhea and throwing up consistently, not even keeping the apple down that I nursed into my body slowly during the Rose Parade on New Year's not far from where thousands of homes burnt to the ground within the week.

    What else? We stopped for food. I tried to go light on the calories, ordering an horchata and steeling a couple of bites from other orders. I thought maybe that water and ice gave me Montezuma's revenge, but I was told later that it came from the cruise ship knives.

    Have I already shared this?

    I think so, likely.

    Anyway, the food was good and affordable, and we eighteen had a good stop at a place on the way back. We finally made it into Ensenada, for an hour plus. Enough time to find the last purchases. Buy those things in Mexico. I almost bought a card/wallet clip holder, but the man walked away nonplussed. I wasn't sure that I had the right bill. I did, but he did catch me in the street.

    My daughter and few cousins walked further along, exploring. She said that they came to the river, or water channel (there was no water in it, that day). The day was sunny and generally warm. Nice for right after Christmas. Fun and sun, and we bought things.

    I purchased some cheap bracelets for everyone. 18 dollars for 18. But it turned into 22. Or 26. The mother and her little daughters looked at me for some extra change. I obliged. A man complimented me in pretty good English, there on the sidewalk. I looked at him. he was well dressed for a random day, I guess Boxing Day, walking the streets of a smaller Mexican city. The poor and the needy are everywhere. I have seen them before. We walk and we see. 

    It had me since 1982. There is something special about Mexico that I love. I feel it. It can be dirty, begging, wanting, poor.

    I looked into his eyes. He may have been 54, like me. He may have been sixty. He had red in his eyes, like he had been drinking. Like he was a drinker. I knew he wanted me to be generous.

    

    He said times were hard, or something like that. I asked him if he knew about my church, and I invited him to go. I pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and I told him in Spanish:  Do not drink, brother. I repeated. He smiled. He had hugged me, giving me a warm embrace, of thanks and mercy. Grace, we were sharing.

       I followed my nieces down a few more blocks, the seventh grader trying to find the right doll for the right price. She found it. My kids were a few blocks away, making memories.

    My wife and sister-in-law, and the two wheel-chair grandparents had already returned to the boat. Their taxi fair was cheap in comparison to ours. My wife told me that they ate well and relaxed, having a good time.

    My wife and I had come here some 22, 23 years before. Have I repeated myself? Probably.

    Life goes in cycles. Different times, different eras. New generations have risen up. The boys (playing hooky) who offered to watch our car, then maybe 10 or 12 years-old, might be the adult sellers we were talking to now between the coast and this harbor city.

    I should right a part four, Cuarta Parte.

    Si, as es. Asi sera.

    Publica.

    

    

    

    

    

IU Basketball Makes Me Sick- And Mike Woodson cannot Coach his way Out of a Box

    Oh, man. A relatively close loss. Sort of.

    No, the Hoosiers lost their bearings and let the Northwestern Wildcats punch them out. With smarts and tons of three point shots (made) off screens, all started with a couple awfully called decisions by the referees. I hate those guys, especially the ones who looked at the calls after the plays, on video.

    They played like they do when they lose. Poor choices, too many turnovers, bad passes, quite a bit of bad defense.

    And the coach. Mike Woodson. I wish the best for him, but I do not think he knows how to help these guys run an offense. They should be so much better. Lots of talent. Guys who can run, and sometimes shoot. They are relatively deep. But they play themselves into the ground.

    A coach, a good coach, would do so much better. We have suffered from poor coaches for decades now.

    Indiana cannot be Indiana without a better coach. I think it is not Woody.

    Sorry. We do need to let him go, unless they turn it around in the next few weeks, become a winning dynamo, and finish March super strong.

    We have had only two pretty good teams since 2000, when Knight was fired.

    2002 and 2013. And the latter choked, so bad. Crean and his nine years.

    Will it ever get better?

    Whoa is my Hoosiers!!

    We are destined to stink, it would seem.

    Northwestern is better. Iowa is better. Nebraska is better. Purdue is better.

    Michigan, Michigan State?

    This is just the Big Ten.

    Maryland is likely better. More athletic, smarter, better coached.

    Ugh.

    Because we have known such heights, it seems that these continuous woes of doldrums and painful players and teams hurt us more.

    Anthony Leal got called for BASKET INTERFERENCE as HE WAS FOULED AND PUSHED BELOW.

    I HATE YOU "SO CALLED" OFFICIAL REVIEWERS. YOU REALLY DO SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF WHAT SHOULD BE A BETTER GAME.

    YOU SUCK. I am glad I do not know your names. 

_______________________________________________

    Okay, these things have made me mad, have gotten my goat. There are bigger problems in the world: fires in California, Russians and North Koreans in Ukraine, Gaza and now West Bank being pummeled. The kidnapped being returned, some with missing fingers. 

    Things can be bad. A CBP agent gets killed by a German national with a gun in a traffic stop in Vermont.

    Things could be worse than getting some missed calls and my hometown team and alma mater being whooped. And losing to Northwestern five consecutive times since 1915.

    Good grief, Charlie Brown. Things could be worse.

    But I want the Hoosiers to be what they can be. Winners. 

    At least the Huskies of UConn look like they are trending down...

    

    Schadenfreude.

    Yeah, I need some more of that.

Things will be okay. Even when we lose. It's a game.

    Nobody died. Just my hopes in a sport and team that gave me so much.

Whack a Mole on All Our Ills - Week of MLK Day and the New Presidency

 Whack a Mole on All Our Ills

    Week of MLK Day and the New Presidency

    I have written and analyzed the import and impact of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day before.

    It is a big deal, when we Americans and others think about what our holidays mean. We have national holidays commemorating and celebrating our veterans, the war dead, the founding fathers, and the religious and other national causes that we remember and value. Juneteenth has now been incorporated as newer federal holiday, again celebrating our collective freedoms and human and civil rights, honoring those that were under enslavement and those fallacies of our past. Us, the United States, the greatest country on the earth. In many ways we are, in 2025.

    Doctor Martin Luther King, I am thankful to you for many reasons. Having a paid day off has been pretty cool for many years. Your lasting legacy has been huge, as most of us acknowledge.

    I have made conjecture as to what the Doctor would be saying and observing if he were still alive today. I am sure our country and world would be better off had he lived past the 1960s. But we cannot change that dreadful assassination.

   Every time and age have their problems, their ills. Martin took on a few and things worked to his and our favor that made us better, more equal, fairer.

    We have always had forms of racism, forms of segregation and economic bias and exploitation. There has always been inequality, unfair treatment of those different and in minorities. We have people problems always, but there are other problems that can affect all of them.

    Issues such as natural disasters and environmental degradation, which most of us believe are accelerating as the humans of our planet are polluting and breaking down many normal and healthy standards that the planet Earth has been used to for millions of years.

    But things have been changing based on population growth, fossil fuel consumption and depletion, pollution and contamination, ozone holes and climate change due to global warming.

    It is happening. 

    To deny this is kind of like denying that the oceans are rising. This is measurable and provable, yes?

    Anyway, would Martin Luther King be about preserving the earth and environment and going green in the 2020s? Would he be against abortion? Would he still preach the Bible fervently and be about moral decency and keeping the Ten Commandments? Would he have helped the African-American community lives better standards?

    Who knows?

    We have our share of challenges and trials today. We have to figure them out.

    Is the biggest problem illegal immigration? The laws need to get better, but is it the immigrants' fault?

    I am a Republican, but I am not as extreme as many are today. The answers are to be approached, handled, and resolved.

    It is not rocket-science. But a lot of it is science.

    We are grateful for our past and the ills we have conquered, have moved past. Many ills still remain. Poverty, poor education, moral decay. Drugs, violence. Some say that the laws and law enforcement is to blame.

    I think marijuana and THC leads to more mass shootings.

    We have wars and terrorism. We have pandemics, fires, hurricanes, floods, droughts, tornados, energy crises...

    We have plenty to work on. Cleaning up the oceans, the air, stopping the ice masses from melting.

    We have seen likely dozens of huge glaciers disappear in our lifetime. 

    We need to keep hacking and whacking away at the societal ills.

    Some see religious beliefs and institutions as causing the problems. Others see them as an answer. The real solution might very well be between.

    Promise and hope in 2025 and beyond. Gratitude, grit, and level headedness should prevail.

    North Korea, China, Russia, Iran: a few others may learn to get along with the rest of us. Maybe Miguel Diaz-Canel can help us arrive to the Promised Land.