Time for a Mandatory Government National Service

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It is time for the federal government to institute a national service.   That is a service where it is mandated that younger people are drafted to service the public good for two years.    This is not a military draft, mind you, but a system where college graduates can first apply their skills for the general benefit of the American Citizenry, and where high school graduates and dropouts can learn trades and other ways of becoming productive members of this society.

In my plan, people will have a choice regarding which service they care to enter.  They can devote their newly learned business acumen to joining others in repurposing our neglected factories and manufacturing plants in the Rut Belt and Eastern Seaboard.   Rather than rely on imports, we can once again rekindle our manufacturing ability that initially made us the dominant country in the world.   A reconstituted effort in manufacturing would alleviate some of our natural deficit and reliance on trading partners we would rather not owe money.

Young people can use their cutting edge technological and business skills and combine them with seasoned business executives, many of whom are currently out of work in this dreadful economy, in redeveloping factories for domestic production and manufacturing.   This would put the laid off factory workers back on the job and rekindle the economy in blighted parts of the nation.   We would be servicing our fellow Americans and not just the bottom line.

Other younger folk can work with seasoned veterans in rehabilitating our infrastructure and developing alternate energy sources.   They could work on environmental cleanup.    They could work in healthcare where personnel are needed to serve our  sub-income and even middle income citizens.   They could work in legal areas and provide legal assistance to people in need.   In short, they could work to improve the general health and economic well being of this nation, and not just a corporate bottom line.

Those who have such an affinity, can be drafted into military service.   This is becoming essential.  While an all volunteer army has its merits, and a professional army is a better performer, certain drawbacks to the notion of our volunteer army are starting to reveal themselves.   Not the least of which is our shortage of troops and the constant reliance on our National Guard.   This has caused the degrading of performance, despite all best efforts, as troops are cycled over and over again back into combat duty without adequate rest.     Our troops are just exhausted.  Should a real war erupt, where we need hundreds of thousands of combat ready troops we may find ourselves lacking.

Additionally, there have been those who have attempted to instill in our military the type of religious fervor that has no place in any government institution.  It is one thing to have your beliefs, as we are all entitled, but when those beliefs are eclipsed by evangelical elements who all but enforce the doctrine of their own religious this is in direct contradiction to both our constitution and the wishes of our founding fathers.   There are such incidents reports at the Air Force Academy and on Army bases around the world.

A drafted army would go a long way in ameliorating such religious fervor.  People who are drafted for two years, would embrace the long honored military tradition of wanting to go in,  do your tour of duty, and then go home.   They will bring to the party, or the military, in this case, not only secular perspectives but the perspective other other religions.   They will not look on their military duty as a religious crusade to smote the infidel but to protect and defend the United States from all enemies foreign and domestic.
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While I am not overly worried, history has dictated that an all volunteer army can become  a mercenary army that is loyal principally to the people that lead it and feed it.   This is a far cry from a good thing.   Additionally, when civilian soldiers are involved, Presidents and political leaders are less inclined to commit troops for useless and misguided wars.    Can we say Iraq? When there are civilian soldiers, there is a much greater chance of public outcry and the sort of protests that finally ended the Vietnam debacle.   Simply put, people seem less concerned about an all volunteer army as they are when it is their family members that are part of a citizen army.   In all, we should consider the long run ramifications our army.

What would a government national service do?  Besides all the do gooder, stuff, it would serve to bring this country together.  Despite all national media, the information on the Internet, cell phones, texting, and everything else, we are probably a more disparate nation than we have been in half a decade.   Technology hasn’t served well in bringing us together.    We are segmented and alienated from each other.

Since changes start with the young, it will behoove us to have a national service that not only augments our efforts to regain our national economy and sense of pride, but to share viewpoints on a person to person, intimate level.   In short, it would benefit us all to see how the other half lives.  MBA’s would be less eager to create the sort of business models that would leave a good segment of this country suffering as a result.   Instead of a good portion of the country being numbers in a chart, they would be real people with real needs, hopes and dreams.

People would share in their efforts to rebuild this country.  Sharing promotes camaraderie and is a boost to general morale.   We would get to know each other again.   We would get to work together.  By starting this with younger people, acceptance and understanding would be infused into our culture, rather than forcibly spoon fed by the media and public school system.   Mutual cooperation for the greater good would be for real rather than theoretical.

Call it the new, lemon scented, reconstituted WPA of the Roosevelt years.  Call it the Peace Corps for the homeland, or Vista with Teeth.   Call it whatever you want.  But do it soon.

When You Wear Pants In Sudan

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I have also quoted Ayaan Hirsi Ali.  Ali for the less informed Ali grew up in the draconian circumstances of her native Somalia where she was forced to endure genital mutilation and the ignominies of an arranged marriage.   She managed to flee to the Netherlands where she became a political activist and criticized Islam.  Among other things,  books, papers, etc.,  she wrote the screenplay and appeared in the controversial film, by Dutch director, Theo Van Gogh.   Van Gogh faced harsh criticism for his film and was  ultimately assassinated by a religious zealot.  Subsequently, Ali received numerous death threats.  She lives in seclusion under the protection of the Dutch government.

Anyway, among her writings, the quote I so remember is that “The West refuses to recognize the obvious.”   This statement in stark in its simplicity and so very true.   It brings to bear Western History in the 20th Century where strategies of appeasement and distraction threatened the collapse of civilization as we know it.   And once again, we are confronted by similar challenges.

I am reminded of all this because of the recent instance where a a Sudanese court fined a Sudanese woman $200.00 for wearing pants in public.    A woman wearing pants in the 21st Century?  Who could imagine such a thing?  Surely the woman, Lubna Hussein, a notable journalist, is no shrinking violet.      She is an educated woman who tested the law and understood the ramifications of her act.   The penalty could have included jail time and the traditional forty lashes.   Some places just love their traditions.   I guess it is one thing to sing Happy Birthday, and quite another to deliver forty lashes for wearing pants.  But in this case with the world watching, the judge expressed his leniency by merely handing down a fine.

Islamic law calls for women to dress modestly.   In countries where Islamic law is in fact the law, the laws should be obeyed.   We would expect the same here.  Or do we?   But in Islamic countries, traditions and laws are such that any real interference other than lip service results in invasions and nation building, and we have seen throughout history where that gets us.

I really find it hard to take issue that these laws are preserved with only a smattering amount of protest that is often mitigating by social pressure and outright fear for one’s well being.   Nevertheless,  it is their country and their laws, and it is up to their people to compel changes, if they so see fit.   There are, after all, issues of sovereignty.

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We fake it.  We pay lip service to ideas that we really can’t stand.   We pretend that draconian issues require our understanding and we try to engage those who willfully and wantonly reinforce this culture.   Simply put, we have given these practices enough credibility that cultures who practice the subjugation of women can somehow behave that way within Western borders.

We read periodically about men living here who kill and beat their wives because of the perceived shame they bring the family.    We read about the guy who destroyed his TV because it was showing a woman’s bare legs.   We pretend this is understandable and that those whom emigrate to the West and fail to adopt to Western culture are somehow practicing their ethnicity.    Yeah, if it means following certain dietary customs.   But it is not okay when men, especially men, can’t get used to the idea that their women have a greater freedom of movement in the West.   That we can in fact criticize damn near anything with relative impunity, based on our constitutional rights.

We are the product of the Age of Reason.  It is often forgotten here.   We cling to our own arcane traditions, or what we believe are traditions, ignoring the thoughts and practices of our founding fathers.   We praise them, vaunt them, but we really don’t have a clue or sense of the age they came from.  But nevertheless, it was The Age of Reason.  The Age when people quested after science, a logic.

So while we are unified as human being in one world, we are not unified by a single set of beliefs.   And while we can tolerate the beliefs found in other nations, we don’t have to accept them as our own, make excuses for our own way of thinking, or  pretend we are more equanimous than we actually are.   We aren’t.   We prefer what we have to what others have.   We want to practice as we see fit and wear our pants around our heads if we so choose it.   We don’t care for restrictions about religion.   Hell, we don’t have much tolerance for dress codes.   We like our women in blue jeans.

Hey, it’s obvious.

Obesity and Healthcare Reform

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While everyone rants and raves on one side or the other about healthcare reform, little is said about one major contributing factor to the outrageous cost of healthcare.   Fat people.   I know it is a term that makes everyone flinch as it is no longer politically correct.   There are other terms to use instead, full figure being one of my favorites, but at the end of the day there are only two real terms that apply.   The first is obesity.   The second is fat.

That’s right–fat.   We are a fat country.  We are a nation that eats like pigs.   We have more all you can eat buffets in this country than anywhere else in the world.  Maybe we have more all you can eat buffets than there are in the rest of the entire world combined.   We stuff food into ourselves as if we were loading up to hibernate in the winter.   We got to the big buffets and just pile food on top of food until our oversized plate looks absolutely grotesque with its oddball combination of food, laid out this way and that.  We put the smoked salmon with the pork chops, the pizza with the chocolate souffle.   We would put our ice cream on our T-Bone steak if most buffets didn’t extend the hospitality of a dessert plate.   We eat cabbage and crustaceans with equal glee.  We don’t care.  As long as it is food.  Dump it on and stuff it down.

And while food is relatively cheap in this country our binge overeating formula and guide to what we call happiness does not come without a price tag.  In fact, our eating habits are quite expensive.  Two thirds of our country is overweight and 25 to 30% are seriously obese.  Fat.  A walking health danger.

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Additionally, it has been reported on WEBMD.Com that obesity can lead to brain loss.  The brain may actually atrophy because someone is too damn fat.   And then there is, for the bonus plan, an increased risk of dementia.

It would seem that this damning evidence combating obesity should not merely be a suggestion.  Obese people should be penalized and forced to pay more for their indulgence.   Better, still, if they lost weight, but that would mean self-denial and increased discipline, and we are hardly a nation for that, anymore.

So before we start worrying about pulling the plug on grandma and some other arcane, if not insane ideas, that have popped their little pus heads on the public scene during the past couple of months, maybe we should concern ourselves with the reality of our own condition and get to work on that.   Eat better.  Eat less.   And move around some.  Who knows, you may even get to like it.

When You Are Living Dead Above Marilyn Monroe

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Westwood Village Memorial Park is arguably the nicest cemetery in Los Angeles.   It is a small park, just south of Wilshire Boulevard.   A movie multiplex sits in front of it as well as a high rise office building.  In fact, you would never know it is there, unless you…know its there.  Or discover it by accident.

Bodies have been entombed, buried, and cremated.  Ashes have been stored in urns in a special room that looks like a dusty old apothecary, and in designated vaults.   There are cylindrical graves, a couple inches wide, set into posts that also hold ashes.   There are fountains, rock formations, and benches marking burial sites.   The graves in the cemetery are both simple and elaborate.   Yet you will never find a garish grave.   This is Hollywood, and spending eternity in a tacky setting is the ultimate in bad taste.

While small and obscure, this quiet graveyard  is hardly a secret.   Although Forrest Lawn may get the attention,  Westwood Village Memorial Park is the final resting place to many show business luminaries.   It is an A-List repertory company.   The legendary Fanny Brice is buried there, along with film pals Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon.  Natalie Wood, Kirk Douglas, Roy Orbison, and Frank Zappa have been all laid to rest in this exclusive little cemetery.  Singers Mel Torme and Beach Boy, Carl Wilson are here.   You can find the graves of Dean Martin and Burt Lancaster, if you are so disposed.     George C. Scott and Billy Wilder.  Peggy Lee and Carroll O’ Connor.  The list goes on and on.

But perhaps no resident is more famous, or controversial, that Marilyn Monroe.   She lived as a legend and died in mystery.   Even today, we see her like she was in “Some Like It Hot,” or even, toward the end, in “The Misfits.”   It is hard to imagine her, if she remained alive, visiting talk shows at 83 years of age.   That is what she would be today.  Eight three.  Hard to believe.

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But no enough to spend eternity alongside her.   That was the plan, but then the plan went awry for reasons that have embellished both their legends.   Instead Joltin’ Joe sold that crypt, just above Marilyn’s, to Richard Poncher.  Poncher has been occupying that crypt for the past 21 years.   It is fitting in a way, as Poncher was an inventor but a rounder who had befriended gangsters, movie stars, and assorted notables.   He ate at the good restaurants, traveled, and was the bon vivant.   Poncher lived well and died at 81.

At Richard’s insistence, his wife, Elise, had the funeral director turn Poncher’s casket upset down so that he was facing Marilyn.   A little unorthodox, perhaps, but far from the oddest dying request.    It is Marlyn Monroe we are talking about here.   Elise contends that if she didn’t abide by his wishes, Richard would haunt her for the rest of his life.

But now Elise wants to sell Richard’s place and move him.   She is selling his crypt and moving him to the one that had been reserved for her.   She will be cremated.   Opening bids on EBay will start at $500, 000.   Half-Million bucks, and up from there.    Elise is not selling the crypt out of whimsy.   There is nobility involved.   She wants to leave here Beverly Hills house to her children, mortgage free.

I wish Elise luck.  I hope she gets plenty of cash.  I am sure she will.   After all, who wouldn’t want the berth above Marilyn Monroe?   And right next door to her, reserved for the time he draws his final breath, will be Hugh Hefner.   Fitting enough for the Founder of Playboy to be Marilyn’s next door neighbor.    And if nothing else, it’s a very exclusive neighborhood.  No rowdy neighbors.  Very quiet.   And the shows they put on are not to be believed.

What the Porn and Newspaper Industries Have in Common

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At first blush the pornography industry and the newspaper industry wouldn’t appear to have much in common.  But they do.   The business model has eroded in both industries.   Both are falling victim to Internet sites that deliver the same information without charge.    Newspapers are going belly up and their staffs of reporters and media people are getting laid off by the droves.   The same is true for the pornography industry, with the exception being that the actresses who work in these productions are getting laid less and laid off with greater frequency.

It is a pity, I suppose, that we have to lament the loss of two of  our most pervasive institutions.    One gave us news, and one gave us distractions.   But these are changing times.   Perhaps all times are changing times, but these times seem to change more frequently and more dramatically than those in the past.   Political and economic tsunamis are now worldwide, commensurate with the global economy.   Even regional industries are affected by the global economy.  It holds true for news and sex.   Although it is ironic that it is “news” that is the four letter word.

Both the news and porn industry are not only  succumbing to the free Internet outlets, but  have been damaged by amateurs who are only too willing to perform the same duties of professionals in the obscure hope of lasting recognition.   Here were two institutions that most thought would never die.   They were the purveyors of public interest and as such thought their need would never end.    But appears those need have been supplanted, and their industrial business models have  been eclipsed by advancing technology.

The pool of applicants for what few jobs remain has increased substantially, while revenue has declined precipitously.  Porn stars who regularly made a good six figures a year are now struggling to make less than half of that.   Journalists who ascended with the status of the industry are watching their salaries reduced, dramatically.   That is if they still have a job and aren’t either exiled to the blog world or faced with only part time work wherever they can find it.

Perhaps not so ironically, both industries had similar, modest starts.   Both were started on the streets, where papers were hawked and sold to the teaming masses on the old city streets.    The reporters and most of the staff were blue collar workers, men and women who barely finished high school yet alone college.   But they knew their business and learned their trade.   They could write well and some with original style and flair.   They built followings and over time their grasp of the world around them evolved with the world itself.

That changed with the advent of a different sort in the newspaper.   Newspapers may have taken the high road as the “Fourth Estate” and such, but the business itself was grounded in gutter fighting for distribution  territory as well as the odd relationships between the “Fourth Estate” crew and the municipal lords on whose deeds they reported.   The local news world was punctuated by the occasional threats to the reporter’s well being and some mutual back scratching, along with bonafide investigative tactics.    There was also the human interest story, the local cat caught up in the local tree kind of thing.

The blue collar guys were supplanted for the white collar guys.     Where you once hung loosely from the lower rungs of the ladder of success, news people now gained new status and with it greater salaries.   You were no longer reporting for the love of it, the proverbial printer’s ink that became indelibly embedded in your system, but also because you could make a buck.  Hell, you could even get famous.
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Pornography, too, had its beginning from the streets.  In fact, vendors on the QT would peddle what were labeled as “French Films,” to willing customers who would pay cash,.  Perhaps there is irony that the early smokers were often peddled under the counter at newsstands.  The films themselves were scratchy and grainy.   But in an emotionally suppressed nation they provided nervous relief for a good many stalwart Americans. take them home and run these 8 millimeter wonders for their friends and colleagues.

These sessions were called “smokers,” and they hinted of the dark but playful corners of small town and suburban America where the Rotarian, Elks and other clubs held their smoker sessions as not so secret, special events.  Male bonding at its bondiest.   It was a fun time.   A few beers, some scratchy black and white silent sex extravaganzas, punctuated by corny subtitles, and there you were.

With the sixties and seventies there was sexual liberation, and pornography migrated to movie theaters.   First came the poor excuses for sex films, supposedly educational vehicles that showed  enough actual sex to stimulate public taste.  Then came the seminal “Deep Throat,” and “The Devil and Miss Jones,” and soon it was not only acceptable but hip to go see a porn film.   People took dates to these theaters, which were often converted from mainstream venues that had fallen on hard times.   Still, because some were the older theaters with big screens and many seats, couples could see their sex in near-Cinema Scope.    Giant sex organs projected from the screens like angry lizard space aliens.

Then came the video tape revolution and the sex industry came home.  Couples watched porn in the comfort of their bedrooms, sipped on wine, ate some cheese, and tried out sex acts they saw on their color TV.    Thousands rushed into the industry as the demand grew for these erotic wonders.   Here, the San Fernando Valley became the capitol of the porn industry.   I remember vacant homes on the blocks being rented out for sex sessions.   Production trucks pulled up front and the film crew remained as discrete as possible as they shot sex for a consumer market that was shopping in the local mall, a few blocks away.

Then came the Internet.  Sex exploded on the Internet.  It lead the way in resolving key issues about selling goods and services on the Internet.  The sex industry practically developed E-Commerce.   The sex industry resolved algorithms and search engine puzzles long before mainstream industry.   It was pornography, after all, that issued so many offerings to so many sexual predilections.  Each one had to be cataloged, keyworded and put up for sale.   And sell they did.  entrepreneurs became billionaires.   If not everyone made a fortune then a good many made a decent living from having sex on the Internet.

But now the party is suddenly over.  Not completely over.  No.  But the party has diminished.   If the lights aren’t out, they have been dimmed, for sure.  Like the newspaper industry, the porn industry is going through the tough economic times from which it may never recover.   Sure, some of the icons will still stand, and some of the elements of both institutions will remain.  In some form.

As for those who worked in these industries,  finding work is tough in this economy.   There may be some opportunities for those who can make the transition.   As for most, it may be time to wipe the slate clean and start again.   Meanwhile, while searching for work, the news people are going on the Internet, and the porn stars are going to college.   What strange times are these.