"saving" social security or securing economic chicanery (9/12/06)

"saving" social security or securing economic chicanery
September 12, 2006


Yet another obfuscation of the GW Bush administration is the controversy they have created over "saving" Social Security. The so-called shortfall is not about actual monies collected from workers' payroll taxes, but the fact that these funds have been used to offset government spending short-falls generally in a growing political culture of irresponsibility as regards the U.S. economy.

Bill Clinton spoke to us from the standpoint that we could all band together for mutual benefit (even if the gain was not always equitable). GW Bush, however, seems to be all about dividing us against ourselves for the benefit of those in position to exploit us.

In the case of Bush's grand gesture to save Social Security, there is no need to "fix" Social Security in order to continue the level of payouts that recipients have grown to expect. The problem here is not in the program, but in misrepresentations about the effects of currently projected demographics. Of much more concern if these figures were projections of an actual future should be the lack of labor force in comparison to retirees, leaving too few people to take up the work that will need to be done (especially with such a large retired community in need of services), and thus also lowering the tax base. 

In the foreseeable future, as more of the demographic bulge retires, there will come opportunities in a variety of circumstances for a much greater base of employment. There will be the services industries fueled by the needs and desires of retirees. There are already a plethora of projects greatly in need of organizing by folks who can find a way to profit from a creative business plan. Bringing in new blood, fresh ideas from people not so tied to the status quo could help to catalyze the process. Then, there is always the new, unanticipated technologies as well as new, unanticipated crises that our quickly changing world is so prone to develop. The thing is, what we need to encourage these kinds of economic development is an atmosphere of open inquiry and a shared flow of ideas, not the "compassionate conservatism" of catering to wealthy interest groups, keeping us mired in a status quo as long as the status continues to go to those interests.

As many people are indeed more able to work for longer years, the rationale for raising the retirement age would be to keep more people in the workforce doing the work. However, this could also be accomplished by immigration policy to bring in more younger workers. In light of the oversupply of unemployed young adults in much of the world, such a policy could also work to the advantage of the U.S. in international relations and other foreign policy concerns.

My big peeve about the Social Security system is the cap on income eligible for payroll taxation. If we took the tax all the way to the last dollar, there would be plenty available to seriously lower the percentage of taxation, taking more of the burden off of the lower paid workers. I am sure that there are other positive changes that could be made to improve the system and better serve the social function of taking care of our old and infirm in a manner that honors their social contributions and affords them respect.

The Bush doctrine on Social Security is not at all about serving such laudable social goals. It is about pitting the haves and hope to haves against the already burdened. It is about inciting our insecurity, rather than inspiring our creative spirit.

see:  http://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2005/0505orr.html
- Social Security Q&A: Separating Fact from Fiction BY DOUG ORR

salute to Hiroshima

nuclear quiet 

 

 

Tremble.

Terrible holocaust.

Fragments, smoldering ash attest inferno’s horror

beyond any concept of fright.

Tremble.

Desirous destruction

engulfs, combusts, devours the night.

Ghastly imbroglio to contemplate.

Holy emission of erupting sky

obscuring, engorging, torching heavens and Earth.

Maelstrom behind closed eyes of flesh-rending fire

razing, exploding, resplendent in awe filled

agony;

transcending density into shocks of deadliest

tremors.

Yes, tremble and think not of that night.

Caught in a thread which ravels to end in

throat-clutching screams.

Send dread escaping, sad streams of molten tears.

Endless, enduring, yet rent past all mending.

Quiet, so quiet tonight.

Kept closed -- quiet tonight.

Unable to catch breath; unable to cry; unable to go on

-- But, God, I don't die

just quail ‘neath flames descending, howl

without a sound.

Tremble, just tremble -- there's no soul around.

 

 

 

second flooding of Megiddo

 

 

I've got rain.

No words.

No fancy maledictions.

Pounding drips against

my inner scream.

Out in the valley,

obscured by smoky haze,

gathering armies.

Bright polished armor.

Weaponry clean

beauteously shines,

stars behind dark clouds.

No roots to cling to.

Flood water rises,

drowns fire, air, ability to

speak of sorrow.

Ashes

fall unevenly

through seeping valley.

 

 

 

 

Hiroshima

 

 

Peace

Fight for peace

Our sacred honor

Arrows fly

piercing armor

Pierce of amor, pride

outside all measure

Wrath, revenge as pleasure

Coiled paranoia

bayonet strong

Toddlers play,

armless, unwary

skeletally still

Bared secrets slip,

burn scars in time

Scorching, pinprick holes

in heaven's fabric,

petrified souls thrust to

premature eviction

Hellfire ripped from metaphor

Immolation scream-echo palpable, 

texture ascends

Daring phantoms,

death's brigade

wail "Peace!"

-- unheeded command

because real glory

belongs to slaughter

 

 

 

Veneration

 

 

Honoring peace.

Honoring essence left behind

not blessed in sanctified fields

open to air and sunlight,

tended to father by father,

mother to sacrificed child.

Dust denied transcendence to

holy loam in presence of love.

Lives not given, not shared, but stolen,

ripped asunder --

limbs, guts, glory.

Shrieking abodeless waifs,

wailing abandoned intimates, kin.

Screaming bombs, squealing tanks.

Arms, throats lacerated.

Vision scathed, scarred.

For peace, for country, for prosperity.

Today, smoke, cinder flecks

obscure a longed-for Sun.

 

 

 

devotional haiku

 

 

happy day to die

amid man's and planet's ruins

reverberant Hell

 

starshine uncontained

potent messaging released

DNA cackles

 

Japanese songbirds

born to nuclear wasteland

shriek mass destruction

 

 

 

Logic of Evolution

 

 

Successful progenitors

survive to sow seed

by force or persuasion

or hiding off screen

or banding together

that more may succeed,

and upgrade conditions,

enhance the breed.

But, for such teams to work well

we must

learn to respect, honor, and trust;

expect to contribute and take and share,

accept the caring for and care.

In community varied seeds are sown.

Thus is a thriving future grown.

Or, sibling rankling infests

to neighbors as scorn.

Barriers proliferate,

preparations for war.

Who is emboldened by

destruction and blood,

blowing civilizations

back into mud?

Are these principled people

filled with kindness and joy?

Those who can create good;

the lacking destroy.

Guns, bombs, cruel words,

contempt, angry sneers,

promotion of pain,

preying on fears,

paying us naught but

unneeded tears

and advancement of certain

unsavory careers.

We can reject their lies,

realize the prize.

Here! before our eyes.

Simple. Easy. Free.

Expect, accept, embrace

the abundance

of Peace.

7/10-28

constipated by ideology

puffed up in self-aggrandizement

putrified with hubris

 

 

The better world I want

is not so much one of race/gender/ethnicity

equality, but a humanity

which appreciates and practices the win/win/win

of basic kindness, eschews the lose/lose/lose

of hostility

 

 

Comfortable in my own id

comfort in grace

Gracious be

 

 

make Peace The issue

6/19-22/17

Silent Queen

trapped in a moment

she cannot change,

nor break,

or even know she is having.

Caught in a snit, a snare,

a flounce of royal petulance

and scent of fear

no thought outside this moment’s

pique.  Never to speak, or hear.

 

 

 

Berserkish rammers

road ragers, suicidal shrews,

roaring expression of human

imperative, collective unconscious

urgency,

will to destroy 

 

 

The Second Sunset of Summer

 

Jeweled sparkle through

emblazoned green

stages of darkening

becomes a screen

to cast a scene from memory

or what ought have been.

I see a field of play,

of poets and Pans gaily a’song

while playmates take a laugh,

a dance,

a merry evening’s holiday.

On roads of old (a half-century or so)

firefly pipers inspire

hopeful wild ones to be.

Free flight like in infant dreams

before boundaries.

Summer melt of sun and mud;

heat mellows, liquifies icy

tensions.  Beat down, swallowed in

sweat, too hot for questions

to make sense.

Sunset soothes.  Withered

inhibitions lubricated, removed as

peeled skin reveals raw resurrection.

Inexorable romp we claim

to desire, defined by starlight.

6/1-16/17

Relinquish

hubris of responsibility

bereft of gifts

lacking energy to respond

 

 

Poor, shallow thinkers abound

yet we insist on mollifying their

shouts of equality, absorbing into

their sloppy, squishy discourse

 

 

Make America States Again!

 

 

Gave it all away for love

never received

Let  my life be paved by fictionhs

I believed

Nothing left to give (never expected

an end like this)

No bright blessings call

Empty space absorbed as pain

because I gave it all

 

 

Nothing but empty days, drugged out nights

Condemned to oozing rights, rites that

never quell the pain

Not punishment for shame – no blame

our run replaced, fit to this crumbling cage.

 

 

Don’t You Feel Sick Too?

 

 

6/1-16/17

3/10-5/20/17

I know nothing of these grand debates

that may bring sway upon my fate

writ large on braying wind

Not my decision; not my place.

Far from majesty of Center Stage,

my only power:

Hope to breathe again with every wave.

 

 

Not tribalism --

dichotomy is our enemy

forced to choose:  either/or

denying complexity of reality.

Tie us up in duel formality.

Watch freedom die, collaterally.

And, of course, humanity.

For what?  Some “bottom line”?

Remind us why you decide

what choice must die.

 

 

Rulers are meant to promote values

move forward within the value system

of the group forming the rules.

 

 

Rumination deserves to serve artistic projects

 

 

Government funded through royalty payments on

profitable outcomes of government funded research

 

 

I tried to hurt myself more than I anticipated from others,

to inoculate against their power.

 

 

The problem with We, the People is that we are not

a people, but random individuals and interest groups

fighting amongst ourselves.

 

 

3/10-5/20/17

waving/drowning

Hate, hate, hate

We hate, denigrate, as we choose

Blacks, Browns, Jews

and all of youse who

ain’t fools that waste our lives

on hate.

 

 

Journey inward

to see what

stories appear

 

 

Attend to voiceless whispers,

haunting calls to play, to

drift away, become

a conduit for musics,

magicks, passions

sonorously surging

within.

 

 

 

Never a promise.

Lies, fantasy

no genealogy, identity

to cleave, to hide among,

to belong

Stories I must drag bleeding

sacrifice to experience

angst of mutating age,

archetypal choice.

Dependent on destiny of

pain’s transcendence, stories,

fantasies I create

desperate for a world

where I am allowed to matter.

 

 

Thank you, dear friend,

for being

as this new found year aspires

 

 

Goddess queens

exquisite scenes

let’s play!

 

 

It’s not the tribes, but elite rulers who

obstruct tribes from having equal voice

that thwarts democracy.

Democracy is not a homogeneous group

agreeing, but diverse tribes negotiating

for common rule that works well enough

for everyone.

 

 

The tribes are breaking down --

that, not “tribalism” is the social destructor.

People become insecure, frightened outsiders,

cling beyond all reason or sane self-interest

to the remnants, the faux tribes, the demagoguery

to conjure that strong story of belonging.

 

 

Just a hunk of stone

No control over where I stand,

where I go

Falling from place

until I land

to remain or be taken

by chance or agency

not my own

 

 

Pilgrim’s progress

White Anglo Ethos

Petulant brats demand obeisance

to our code of conquest, of dominance,

of hard-assed outcast of deviance

Rule over Earth and her issue

break them to work for our wishes.

Honor, respect,these are authorities’ own

the war lords we place on our thrones to command.

Progress is forward motion on opening roads.

Marching, no conscience nor care for what may explode.

Let our Great Destroyer sort it.

 

 

 

Why would a woman risk

death or other bodily terrors,

social exposure to all the slings and arrows

of frenzied hate,

to end her unborn’s fate?

She is protecting her child, like a good mother does,

despite her own suffering,

protecting her innocent from this horrid world,

from people like you.

 

 

Do not ignite your enemies

Ensnare them in better fantasies

 

 

Under

 

Caught, barbed, mired

in private dramas, traumas.

Sunk, gasping, up just enough to see

nothing to cling to,

grasping at phantoms, wisps of mirage.

How proceed?  No landmark empirically real,

how find relief, belief that’s meaning applies?

How define “wise” as solution to needs;

everyone bleeds, but who decides why,

or how?

No time for such now --

too much to do

to try to break through,

to breathe.

Whatever they say, so far away

from my plight

I assume must be right --

I know nothing of these grand debates

that may be sway to my fate

writ large on the wind.

No my decision nor place.

Far from luxury life at Center Stage

my only power:  hoping to breathe again

with every wave.

 

 

12/18/16-3/3/17