Sick ‘n’ tyred.org: MEMO 2 MICHAEL MOORE….

Michael Moore’s CAPITALISM: A LOVE STORY movie was certainly an UNUSUAL film.

It begins showing  “stick em – up” scenes around the US, which I find to be a nice way of capturing my attention, BIG-UP’S 4 dat one Mike!!! But in spite of this beginning I found Moore’s main message to be:

WE DON’T NEED MONEY .. WE GOT OUR PEEPS!

I think white ol’ Michael Moore is trying to say “I’m on your side people”, being that he begins the movie clarifying he grew up in a middle class home,message that little by little turns in to “we are all working class now my friends”. Middle class was only an American Dreamed Illusion.

Moore then introduces the vampires that feed off that illusion, those who benefit from the legalized and wonderful free enterprise… How and why does capitalism work daddy? Well Michael ventures in a ambitious attempt to explain this, a lesson for a whole university degree all in one movie chapter!!! No wonder Moore’s explanation lacks dept and conviction. He stays in the superficial flow of competition and leaves out created necessities, lack of opportunities trough the control of resources and so on. He even fails to address that “other ism” as he calls it, denying opportunity to explain the clear antagonism and overthrow of capitalism that is proposed in communism.  But we didn’t expect this “blanquito” to go skinny dippin’ in a tank full of sharks, did we?

And that is precisely Michael Moore’s limitation in this movie. His narrow green-go minded views of capitalism. Were the US citizens are the victims and the rest of the world is invisible. US the navel of the world, living the painful story of being taken for suckers by their leaders. Right…

and super hero

What the heck is “Free Enterprise” anyway.. The words themselves are vague and broad.  They might mean anything to anyone, that has money that is. To my knowledge they cross rivers, state-lines, borders, allies, languages. These words mean screw anyone from any place freely. Sounds great, right?!

But not when the screwed one is YOU. Moore proceeds to mention how many ways to make profit out of poor bastard. He came up with longer convictions in private prisons, evictions based on mortgage rates, death insurance on employees and good ol’ traditional laborer exploitation. Not bad huh, we’ve come a long way baby. Uncle Sam would be proud!

Vampire brands include : American Express, Hershey’s, AT&T, Bank of America, Wal-Mart, Citi Bank and so many more, check out this link if you want to learn more about your boss wanting you dead:

http://deadpeasantinsurance.com/which-employers-bought-policies-on-the-lives-of-employees/

But

WE THE PEOPLE were not there that day they signed their documents, were we?

If anyone with a sense of adventure want’s to see this movie I make a challenge: Cross this movie and the da Vinci Code, seek all those Freemason symbolism and see what you come up with, I promise the results will be fascinating and strong enough to make a great blog. Invite me to read it, but be ware of blood thirsty vultures who would surely like to keep their names “clean” 4 a few more years.

Over all I can not blame Moore for the limitations of this movie, it is a hard thing criticizing the devil from the guts of hell. I can say he did a great job in providing light at the end of the tunnel, and that is something hard to achieve whenever you talk the talk. Although Moore tried to bring in Barack Obama as the “savior of saviors he was able to get other messages across. More important ones, in my view. ” From taking alternative religious points of view to protesting and resisting Moore finishes his 4 hour critic with a rush of hope.

Yes we can, shout the employees who challenged the banks.

The people united, will never be divided sang the people squatting in their evicted-homes.

Power to the people, I say. And then the movie ends inviting us to help him restore the peoples power to were it’s supposed to go.

Are we in?

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The New Colossus

I hadn’t realized the extreme to which I had submitted myself until I reached out my hand and stashed it down that garbage pail, looking for something, anything to drink, finally selecting a left over Starbucks tea and quenching my thirst, a little.

Over a month ago i began my “street-bound” project that had the purpose of experiencing life as a street homeless person in the freezing streets of NYC. The first few nights the park benches were my bed, and since the city garbage pails provided almost any craving I might have had, I felt welcomed, cozy and almost contempt. This lasted a short time, that night of the first snow storm I learned this was not adventurous, interesting or challenging. That night I learned it is a rather horrid experience for a person who does not really know anything about homelessness or how to survive in this mighty jungle of concrete. That night, for the first time I headed out to sleeping in the trains.

I managed to sneak in trough the emergency exit, without being seen, and in to a world that was already familiar, and manage to see a whole new side to it. At precisely 3 am everything changed. At first I was alone and fearless, but hour after hour I began to realize that the management did not want me here. Transit worker’s began to push me out of the cars and eventually out of the trains. I kept repeating “This is not my stop”, “you’re violating my rights”, but the replies were always “get out; you can’t stay here” or “it has not been your stop since the last three times we went around”.

After a while I began to notice I wasn’t alone, a crowd of men and women began forming. We were a pack of loners, making our own street-bound family in hopes of not being kicked out, in aspirations of being respected.  At first the crowd scared me; some were talking to themselves, screaming, others reeked of alcohol and urine. At moments I felt out-of-place and desperate to return to where I knew I had a warm safe-heaven. But after a while of going in and out of train cars with this self righteous gang I felt, oddly, at home. I never tought a night could be so long, and a train ride across the city so short. About 4 or 5 am I finally fell a sleep.

It should have been eight-ish when I woke up, feeling hungry and confused. The same homely  place that I had fallen a sleep a while earlier was now packed with hurried people, school children, newspapers and briefcases, my righteous gang had gone away to places I would never imagine, even if i wanted to. Young people stared at me, others ignore me like if looking away would make me disappear. One or two seemed to look at me with compassion. That was the cue to my exit.

Outside again, this time snow-covered all and everyplace. No where to sit. I went to garbage pails seeking breakfast; this time around not a bite of food had been salvaged. Snow had covered all and every left over bite I could ever manage to get. Now what?

Desperate, cold and hungry I looked refuge in a nearby church. Funny how God is the only direction to run to and know you will not be turned away. Why is that? Lucky me! A food pantry. I entered, hungry, enthused. “Good morning”, this I realized had been the first person in these few weeks to speak to me directly, greet me, talk to me like…like I was still human. “Good morning” i realized my voice was cracking, I realized I had not used my voice in a long time. Last night, It was not me talking to the metro employee, but the voice of rage and fear. “I am hungry, tired, cold.”

The Big Apple managed to provide me with emergency food. A large bag containing onions, carrots, canned goods, milk, bread. All but the bread seemed useless to me, I had no kitchen, no stove, no can opener. I went to the back of the church, were i knew nobody would see me, where no one would bother me. These few weeks humans had become a pest for me. I felt like I belonged to another race, one that became invisible sometimes and visible at others. I devoured a great part of the bread, fast at first, slowly after. Went back inside to use the bathroom, were I washed my face, and when the mirror image of another me stared back, I knew it was time to go home. Now I had a story to tell; I had then become visible.

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The New Colossus

by Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

"Give me you're hungry, you're tired, your poor"

Follow me to Wonderland; if you dare

How deep does the Rabbit hole inside each one of us go? Well i believe that it goes as far down as our aspirations, fears and hopes. Alice and her “wonder-land” might just be a children story, or it might just be that deepness within each one of us that we can’t shake off or fill completely.

Do we each have a lurking wonderland inside, a place of emptiness and shadows from our past. That place were we stuff our regrets in order to keep on living. I believe we all have a wonderland that holds our deepest fears, that Mad Hatter who dares to be different, poisoned with the anger of being silenced and censured by our bosses, teachers, parents, by plain ole’ common sense. Our wonderlands hold those dead relatives that talk to us in our sleep, holding us together in one piece,

waiting patiently until we don’t need their advice any longer, waiting until that day they can fly away, freely as butterflies. Like Alice’s father the caterpillar was the only one who truly believed in her full potential.

Wonderland is the place were our internal “War of the roses” occurs; will we be imprisoned to play traditional roles in the plays of our lives or will we slay the monsters and become true champions?

Do you dare say no to wearing a war-produced diamond, do you dare say nay to par taking racist actions, do you dare protest injustice, can you change jobs to help the needy, will you stop wearing brand names or buying your way into social acceptance? Will you allow your children to be gay or come  out of the closet your self? Will you marry the one you really love or help a family member stop suffering and unplug? Will you now support an abortion or will you finally take in that opportunity for adoption? WILL YOU !?

The choices are within us…

do you dare follow me today,

down the rabbit hole?