It is Insane America or most directly The…

It is Insane. You know it is.

America, or most directly, The United States of America.

I made a decision many years ago, I’d probably be more ‘well off’ materially, if I hadn’t made the decision I made. I was petitioned & rallied to walk in line, to join the ‘mainstream’. Carnegie-Mellon sent me many requests for me to study with them. It was the Watergate years, Nixon, Viet Nam winding down.

I like people, most anyway. I don’t like base criminals, you know: bank robbers & such, murderers but like Clarence Darrow represented, an argument can be made for anybody’s motivations or impulses, it’s human nature.

I tried a stint @ the University of Maryland, but I couldn’t get my head or heart around anything going on, so much angst, so much balderdash, supporting a History no one could prove, to any amount of conclusiveness.

I enlisted in the United States Army, eventually volunteering for the 82nd Airborne Division while still in Basic Training. I knew the risks involved, welcomed them. I enjoyed the prospect of ‘challenge’, still do.

I swore I would defend this Nation, etc, etc & beyond.

After I got out of the Army, I got an offer to become an Ironworker. I liked, loved the idea of physically using my body & intellect to help this Nation grow. I have helped build, with many Brothers & Sisters: Bridges, Power Houses to supply energy, grocery stores, arenas for events, hospitals: if it can be built, I helped, including roofing houses to help support myself when I got a chance to return to, & succeed in college environment, in my thirties, & graduated with Honors, Cum Laude, with a Bachelors Degree in English from Clarion University of Pennsylvania. And so, I write.

I still do, today, swear before Almighty God, whatever that may be for you, to defend this Nation. Even when it is insane, like you would for a relative, ya know?

The United States of America has gone insane.

Yeah, we still hear politicians & pundits proclaiming ‘Constitutional authority’ & ‘fiscal responsibilty’ & ‘infrastructure’… blah, blah: endless Blah.

I had hope in President Obama & the ‘Hope &Change’ he promised. Promised.

But, it does seem to me that his leadership and message has been squashed by political forces, not just the Republicans or Tea Party, but even citizens, who refuse to stand up for themselves!

Who consistently buy into a ‘theocracy’ which only has 2nd Amendment & anti-Roe v. Wade roots.

And that folks: Is Insane.

There is so much more, in the America I love, to get excited about! We took, well if History is correct, we pretty much stole a barely populated continent. Pretty much stole it. Foreign Nations, European mostly, financed expeditions & settlements, that would allow the ‘development’ of a New World.

And develop we did! Within two hundred years (three hundred in the Southwest) we explored, developed and exploited a gift from God. A gift: A brand new World, with unknown possibilities.

Wasn’t long before as a New People, we organized and supported a new Revolution, which surpassed all expectations of John Locke & the Enlightenment movement in Europe, and we successfully rose up against fiscal & social oppressors, & demanded and won our Freedom.

We defended our Freedom and ability to survive by an attempt of the British to re-impose their influence, and sent them home packing.

We not only defended our right to exist, we grew strong enough to support our former Oppressors, not once, but twice. And through the largesse of the American Economy and People, we rebuilt & enabled the entire massacred world post-1945.

All of that, and now we find ourselves in the throes of national & personal economic disaster.

Now, it seems to me, that we have Oppressors, native born maybe, but not Patriotic, who are dismantalling our success from within.

And that is insane.

I swear to the Gods I never thought…

I swear to the Gods, I never thought I’d be so impinged by musive reconsiderations & work, but, I’m close real close, I’d expect a change in course if I were you, a shift, not a rift… I thank you all for your patience. I have been thinking. Very hard.

Electric. Absolutely electrifying. We had three booms up, speaking of cranes. Three girders in the air, I was signalling all three, as my partner patrolled the work, making sure I was close. Close. Just: close. We had a football field of Iron in the air, over 300 feet long, three pieces combined & total. Enough to wreck a small village. Every bit of it depended on what I said through my fingers to the Crane Operators. If I fucked up, millions of dollars would have been spent, lost within a second, or less. If I fucked up….

I didn’t fuck up.

I didn’t. Nature did.

While we were so involved, distracted even, in our bliss as High Steel Bridge Connectors, the pinnacle of my trade: a wild storm blew in, way unannounced, from the Everglades. It was an I-95 bridge: I could not fuck up, The Company, could not fuck up. But: I was between Death and a Hard place. A very, very fucking hard place. Ya follow? You can’t even imagine. But: Listen to me, your Poet.

Bobby, my partner, was stoned, as usual. That is mostly why I was signalling the rigs, well, not really, nobody signals a rig with my life at stake. Nobody. The few people I tried to teach to do such things, almost killed me. My name is John Rickard, and if I tell you to do something with a crane. Do it. Fucking do it.

The storm blew in, totally unannounced. Like a real bad hit on a babe in a bar, totally: Unannounced. I had two pieces ‘married’ (put together with only pins) a third to go, hanging, revolving in front of my eyes, out of reach.

What to do? I was so fucking scared, every hair on my body was standing on end, electric, every one of them. Every one of them, like a porcupine on acid: Fucked. What the fuck would you do? Jump? Quit? How? I was standing on a twelve inch wide girder, sixty feet over dry land. I was, well, what my Connector friends say, I was ‘fucked’: no place to go, and no way to get there. I was fucked. With 300 ft of Steel behind me, and well over 600 feet of crane boom behind me, and a very, very weird task in front of me. And a very wild electrical storm banging all around me.

What would you do?
You, who can’t even imagine my options, which were few?
What. Would you do?

I signalled the hanging girder into me, I needed it to ‘bridge’ the gap to the next pier, or else, all would fall. All. All. Every bit of it, including me & Bobby, was history, in that storm. The Crane Operator didn’t want to listen to me. I screamed: ‘Hey look you mutherfucker, if you don’t do what I tell you right the fuck now, I will come down there and kill you.” He knew my reputation, the only tool worth a fuck for a real man.

He swung it in, he was scared-er than me: told me so later. I don’t know how you gauge such things, but I let him have his say. He swung the load into me, let me pin it, walk out and set the madness down on the anchor bolts. I was soaking wet, my money, my underwear, my blood was wet from the storm. I climbed on top of that girder, and cut the rigging lose, unassisted. I had to walk back from where which I came. Bobby saw, knew what was happening, and joined me to cut the number #2 & #1 rigs loose. We got the rigs safe, turned away from the Iron, boomed down and safe. We were soaked.

So: You think you are a ‘Man’. OK. There are different types.

For Bobby Butler. He died, Connecting. But not with me. I carry him in my Soul.

For my Friend, Vincent Hellane, & US

Vince:

You see it now, you must know now, you must let us know! What did we earn? How much of our yearnings are open to conjecture, satisfaction, or denial? Were we correct in our misgivings, lies & giving? Did we, are we, will we miss the boat? I left you behind, in an eighth grade classroom, as me & the rebels jumped out the window to freedom & wildness, leaving 218 West Washington St & the Nuns behind! Were we unnerved or just crazed? The smoke of the sixties became the stark realities of the seventies, & Nixon, we cruised through the eighties, and into Prosperity, Want & Affliction! Oh Vince, when we re-unite for your Memorials, will you please whisper to our as yet unsettled hearts? Will you smile, through a cloud, or send a bird to grab a flower from your too early coffin? Can you please let us know we’re not Lost, not devoid, not to be found? Can you get someone to let you close to the Gate & Wave? Or Grin? You, who fought, can you please let us know what we are up to Counts? To Them? To you? To yours’ or even, blessed Man, Ours? I sure would appreciate it, as I’m sure everyone you touched will be so satiated by just that sign you send, in Your Name! Amen.

PS: I’ve lost seven friends in the past eleven months. Will you please ask Jesus to take a break? Thanks, Man.

John Rickard

Just an Update

Won’t be long, much longer, anyway. I went back to work for a short while. Traveled to Ft. Bragg, NC w/ Paratrooper Brothers from the 1970′s for the 82nd Reunion, still mulling over some of the changes, observations. Got the garden in & lookin’ good towards summer production; yard clean, house marching quickly from former purchased chaos ~can see the end of re-construction. That is a gratifying goal!

Ciao!

John

Feeling Dawn Y2K (via Blue Collar Clarion)

I. Criminal cusps of speakeasy freakster demons~ Lights quell the night but search my soul. Awake, never rested only subtly bested, nested in arms delight with friends of years which speak easy Peace ~the concept of living for, not dying to the moment… II. Long streets of Georgian manses beauty of short nights of gilded last C.’s ’90′s frivolity excite all the gasps of the yearning for Reality. To be obsessed by Ancient productivity By brains t … Read More

via Blue Collar Clarion

I started a blog devoted to my poetry, and will be adding more poems & a couple short stories, & maybe some non-political essays as it & I mature together. Thank you for checking it out if you are so inclined. http://jbushido.wordpress.com/2011/04/21/bluecollarclarion/

USuncut: Progressive or Primitive?

Personal Caveat: I totally agree with USuncut’s proposal & mission to expose Corporate Tax Dodgers & ultimately to see Corporations Pay taxes like the rest of us.

I had an interesting experience the other day.

I have spent my time & energies as a political activist slash commentator since becoming mostly chronically un-employed in the summer of  2010. I took my last Federal Income Tax return & bought a new computer & a digital camera. I went to ‘work’ chronicling Political Theatre. I saw President Obama, live. I attended many rallies, recorded all for friends on Facebook. Found Twitter. Went to the Rally to Restore Sanity & Or Fear in DC. Laughed when Jon Stewart tried to get us all to “count off”. I was living my passion.

I am a Union Ironworker, thirty years in the business. I never thought I would be in this  ’position’:  the same day I was ‘laid-off’, I bought a 2010 Harley-Davidson Deluxe, FLSTN. I knew I would be back to work soon. I thought: well, this can’t be as bad as ’91. I was wrong. Economic conditions and all indicators say this economic downturn is cumulatively much worse than any other since the Great Depression of the 1930′s.

We Build America ~for everyone. We don’t go to the office:  We build it.

Though we build the country for all to experience & enjoy, to make each and every one of our lives a bit more comfortable, less onerous:  We have very little political power. We have men and women of all political genres, sexual & religious orientations among our rank and file members. Many of us are highly educated, military Veterans, socially committed. All of us have an integral stake in the Future of the United States.

The Power Elite sets our work schedules: If there is no impetus to build, they don’t. Many of us call ‘unemployed’ periods: Vacation. What else could be said? It is unpaid, except for the paltry pittance we receive from unemployment compensation. It averages out to be somewhere between one fifth & one forth of our usual income. So, for arguments sake, let me say we have a structural removal of three quarters of our usual income during economic downturns. If you were buying me right now, I’d be marked down 80%. Quite a bargain for you, wouldn’t you agree?

There are better bargains enjoyed in this Land of Ours.

Many of the top twenty Corporations operating in the United States, using and benefitting from the United States Infrastructure we and other Craftspeople build & maintain, who employ United States Citizens & others, legally and illegally: pay absolutely no taxes on THE INCOME THEY EARN WITHIN OUR BORDERS.

I pay taxes. You pay taxes.  We pay State and Federal Income taxes. We pay property taxes. We pay taxes when we buy an automobile. We pay taxes when we sell an automobile. We pay taxes on groceries, fuel, our bad habits. We pay usage taxes. We pay sales taxes, mostly. We pay taxes on almost any endeavor we can imagine pursuing in the United States of America. Go to a Movie: pay taxes. A game? Besides the exorbitant entrance fees, there are taxes to be paid around every corner of the mostly round structures, on top of the almost one thousand percent mark-up on everything available within the venue. I do believe the restrooms are still untaxed, but I assure you that is only because somebody hasn’t figured out how to do that, yet. I am sure some junior state accountant is working on just that issue as I type. Sure of it. It is the American Way: Tax Life.

So: I had an interesting experience the other day. Some time ago, less than two months past, a young friend of mine alerted me to the fledgling existence of USuncut. In Seattle. They were active. It was around the time Fukijima Daichi was just a ‘concern’. Before the first explosion.

The budget of the United States of America exploded a long time ago. Without digressing into the multifarious causes, economic theories, and direct influences of the explosion, let us just agree that the United States Economy is in tatters. The worst shape it has been in, possibly ever. Comparisons to the Great Depression are distractions from its negative import, if only because the United States is a very different enterprise than it was in the 1930′s. It could be argued that except for the Constitution and social institutions, it is indeed a very different country entirely.

So, I was very excited when I learned Uncut was coming to Baltimore! I told all my friends, my family. I posted it on Facebook. I tweeted @Twitter, excitedly, the entire night beforehand. I was ready to take the fight to the streets, once again. I was involved before I was invested. I bragged, chortled, invited. I promised to chronicle our exploits and report as soon as I could assemble my wits, pictures & prose. Since I have become involved in @Twitter, I have gained quite a loyal & dedicated following. Last week (4/3/2K11-4/9/ 2K11), I was #249 in Twitter follow rankings. I was bowled over, to admit the least! Hell, Bill Gates was #232. Slash, from Guns & Roses #233. They have much more money & influence, many more ‘followers’ than I. I’m #249, and humbly proud of it. Thank you, & thanks to you.

I believe Truth is more valuable than Money. I have always lived so. It is probably why @ 54 I still work for a living. When I am ‘allowed’.

When I am not, I am LOUD!

I am PROUD of what I do, have done. Our  work has allowed many of the aforementioned Corporations to generate massive profits operating in America.

So, I invited my neighbor to attend the rally with me, he was skeptical. We were to meet Uncut @ Red Emma’s Bookstore Coffeehouse, “Grounds for Rebellion”: their subtitle. A known local Liberal/Progressive hangout. That is on the mild end of their political clientele. They welcome Anarchists. Socialists. Communists. Nihilists. Nietzche & Marx are moderates peppered about their teeming shelves, Che is a hero. Dreadlocks asunder. Good coffee & treats round out the fair.

My friend is an active Libertarian, Campaign for Liberty Ron Paul supporter. They hate taxes, period. It all goes back to the Fed, says he. I am older, less caramelized in my criticisms.

Leaving our sub-urban neighborhood, we arrived to find a perfect parking place, Friday @ lunch time. Diagonally across the street, through the windshield of his Jetta: Red Emma’s loomed. In all her revolutionary glory. We were set to attack the tax dodgers.

Where was everybody? We looked inside: a couple customers ambled about. Back outside, I was shell-shocked. What the Fuck happened to my Revolution!! Where were all my Legion of Compatriots? Whereupon were the Revolutionary Banners & Pikes for our opponents transgressions? Was I deceived? Did I honestly invite my neighbor on a ‘blinddate’? WTF?

I spied a couple gentlemen up the street, about a quarter of a block. Wrestling with balloons. Dropping literature from overstuffed arms. Generally presenting anything but the expected reactionary fervor. I decided we could at least ask them if they had seen, or heard of any one from Uncut. Wouldn’t, couldn’t hurt. We had a perfect parking place.

They were Uncut. All three of them. Swallowing my gasp, I introduced us. Asked who was the ‘leader’? I was uncomfortable. Leader is generally not a term I employ in any but the loosest sense possible. Hell, I’ve walked High Iron all my life. I defer to few. Looked down on many. Of all rank.

‘Well, their really isn’t any’. OK.

‘Well, who am I speaking to?’

‘Well, I guess I am the local co-ordinator’ a goatteed gentleman volunteered, while wrestling with an Uncle Sam costume, top hat & reams of pamphlets, entangled between the balloons he had slight control over.

‘Well, hey, this is our first Uncut’, excitedly, ‘who we doin’? Bank of America?’ (I knew).

Hey, I would really like to chronicle your event & blast it out over the Internet! I got some great connections, I can make this Baltimore first Universal before sundown!! (I do everything with an over-bearing zeal, once I’m committed to an idea, a dream.)

‘Well, that would be nice, not sure we need that’.

!?!?!? OooooKay…

Introductions of more import & detail followed & we accosted Emma’s for some coffees, to wait upon our Legion’s arrival.

While Uncle Sam & his band of followers untangled balloon & costume, my friend and I assailed the bookshelves, we were complete in our resolve, props un-needed. We approached & engaged the slightly growing group for small talk, conversation, instructions.

Here, you wanna a balloon? No, I have my camera & Muleskine…

You don’t want a sign? The proffered banner reassembled a fan used by courageous Ladies fanning through a vociferous Sunday Sermon.

No thanks, I think that may deter from my ability to wield my camera.

Was I being uncooperative? No, I was being myself, the same self who has helped promote MoveOn locally & about Maryland.

An activist, not a cartoon. A real Patriot, not a caricature.

He was aghast @ my refusal. I tried to explain what I do, it was my first, I’m not a real ‘joiner’… My friend and I had revealed our connections to one of the other standard bearers, & found a like minded confederate.

Well, I don’t see why you would even want to come here, if you didn’t want to get involved & join us.

What! Man, if you let me do my thing for you, your event will be seen tonight, from the Ukraine to the UK! (It was a ‘U’ day…)

I don’t care anything about the Ukraine, only what we plan to do today!

Ok. My friend said, ” Hey John, if you wanna go, do your thing, I’ll hang out…” I was uncharacteristically speechless for at least a couple minutes, hopes & expectations of anti-Corporate responsibility & revolutionary vigor hard evaporating from my visage, deflated.

Ok. I was still gonna go… until I regrouped and reconsidered what just happened.

How could any entity so new, so vigorous in the purpose & honorary intent of their mission be so exclusionary in this nee moment of its’ insurrection in Charm City?

Had I been impaled on the pike of my own enthusiasm? What had I done wrong?

Nothing. I was alerted. I researched. I invited. I broadcast. I came to my first Uncut with all intentions of assisting and promoting their efforts.

They wanted to chant & perform.

Did I look like an Interloper? An Intruder? A ‘plant’ with my long hair: pony-tailed, long lamb-chop sideburns & Red Emma’s t-shirt? Maybe, but only to a Paranoid. Or a power monger. I have heard like complaints from other activists, scattered about. In spite of all the attention Uncut has directed towards this most pertinent issue, improvements can be made, and enjoyed, freely.

*****

Remember my Caveat? “I totally agree with USuncut’s proposal & mission… “

It is most difficult, almost impossible to find or mine total agreement on any issue in this Land of the Free & Home of the Brave,  ~Good Luck.

In this Nation which can elect a President, Bush 43, who campaigns against Nation Building, preaching Compassionate Conservatism & Fiscal Responsibility, then upon election: Skewers a budget surplus, derails the Peace Process & Preemptively bombs a Sovereign Nation back to the Stone Age, under the pretense of deterring further aggression following the unprovoked attacks of September 11, 2001.

A Nation that can then re-elect said ‘champion of Justice’ only to continue down the same road culminating in a fiscal mess like none other ever witnessed or endured upon this Planet, excluding the Holocaust.

A nation which can then change course, disgusted from all corners, and elect a Progressive Democratic President to clean up the debris of our culture and economy, only to be berated by all sides, even by those of us who so assiduously fought for his chances & success? If Barack Obama were any less of a man, or less of a True Patriot of American Values, who could blame him for disgustedly throwing in the proverbial towel, & saying: “Fuck all of you” & moving his beautiful family back to Chicago, Hawaii, or wherever he wishes? Who among you could hold that against a mere human so assailed? Not me. But, the Man has the mettle, the intestinal fortitude & the vibrant huzpah & hubris to exclaim: ‘I am not done’. ‘Not on my watch’ & ‘I am running for re-election as your President’? The hardest working President of my lifetime, up against the ropes his entire first term, wants more? Who could fight a Man like that? A Will, like that? A Vision, like that?

Only fools it seems most evident.

& Uncut wants to invigorate leadership who would exclude strong experienced warriors in the first months of its’ National Involvement?

I sure hope not.

I hope they call me back. I hope they decide they may be able to use me at some level, braided into & around my other pertinent involvements.

I hope they mature enough to think so.

The Democracy For America Net Roots ’11 Competition is now closed to voting, Results are not in. I want to publicly & passionately let all my people know how much your recommendations personally meant to me: Even if I do not make the cut, just the fact that YOU took time out of YOUR day to acknowledge & recommend me is a Treasure, buried deep in my Heart. Thank you, thank all of you, I will strive to improve, & carry on with our Goal: A Free & Fair America. Thank You!!

I’m spent. I learned much. I have to let it gel. I be back when I’m well. It’s all good. Takin’ a break, be back on the prowl tomorrow. Thank you all, it is for you.