Monthly Archives: July 2013

Life, the Universe, and Free Lunch

Life is simply amazing. There is such diversity, complexity and variety in the universe that settling for the ordinary or uniformity seems a complete waste of time. Actually, trying to make everything just like everything else borders on totalitarianism.

Unfortunately, in today’s world humanity tends to favor the cookie-cutter mentality. Different is not just wrong, it’s bad; unless of course it’s me being different and then everyone has to be exactly like me.  It’s not enough to warn folks about the dangers of salt, sugar and caffeine–we have to force everyone into eating tasteless food and giving up fried items because basically humanity is too stupid to do it on its own. Of course the PC police are exempt from the same guidelines they want to perpetuate on everyone else.

The herd blindly follows along thinking that someone somewhere will take care of them and provide everything they need without any effort on their own behalf. Hence, “the free lunch.”

And amazingly our society seems to provide just that. Freebies for everyone who doesn’t produce something or work at something or provide a service or product.  These are the same people who think hamburger comes flash frozen on saran-wrapped styrofoam trays in the grocery store, water comes from a tap and electricity from a switch on the wall.

Those of the free lunch mentality obviously think money grows on trees and there’s an unlimited supply. This subversive idea has even infiltrated our universities, where hardworking students are sent letters informing them how happy they must be that the university took some of their money to give to another deserving student who couldn’t afford college.

For crying out loud!  My kids work hard all summer to earn enough for college and my husband and I scrimp to come up with the rest of the cash to pay for their schooling. The last time I checked under the penal code taking something that doesn’t belong to you without permission is theft. The colleges in question (yes, it was more than one) never asked if we’d like to make a donation. They simply took amounts of cash out of our children’s account. Money we worked hard to gather to meet the tuition fees. Money we had to replace to finish paying off school.

There is no such thing as a free lunch, whether it’s college tuition or medical care or insurance or anything else. Someone has to pay for it and it’s usually the producers–those people who are getting up every morning and going to work every day. People who don’t always get sick days, vacation time, overtime or union wages. Regular moms and dads who are trying to live an America dream that no longer exists unless one is a consumer parasite living off someone else.

It’s not the government’s money: it is ours. We ought to get to choose how to spend it.

The Misfit from Mars

Growing up in a small Oklahoma town isn’t the best place for a girl with her head in the stars. I always felt out of place because of my faith, my socio-economic background (lived on the wrong side of the tracks),  and a preference for things that did not include football, cheerleading and the latest gossip.

I decided I had to be from Mars.

Some 20 years later I have proof. I live in rural West Texas where the land is flat, treeless (unless you count the mesquites) with hot summers, cold winters, and nothing but red sand.  I still love science fiction and I still feel like I don’t belong in most places or groups.

Maybe it’s just that I have a different way of looking at life. One of my favorite quotes from MacGyver is “How you look at the world depends on where you’re at.”

I’ve lived in two different countries, visited several others and visited around a dozen different states. I’m passionate about Japanese culture,  love things from the past but embrace technology, and would rather wear 18th century clothing.

All in all I’ve a smorgasbord background that still doesn’t mesh easily with today’s cultural mores. And that is why science fiction still fascinates me — it doesn’t fit in either.

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