Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Morning Habits (Fiction)


Morning Habits (Fiction)

Bubba

Belching loudly was the first of many morning habits Bubba had perfected. Feeling the eruptions of last night's beer drinking and wing eating rip out into the mix of morning breath, he let it roar into the morning’s blend of birds chirping and kids laughing on their way to school.
Making an attempt to rise, he rested on his elbow and waited until the immediate thunder of the blood pulsing up the sides of his forehead subsided. This was the worst part of the morning, but the good times enjoyed the night before had been worth this day’s pain.
Feeling the need for a daily itch, he reached down and sunk his fingernails into his groin in a semi conscious effort. Immediately, he noticed the reason for his early awakening as the rumbling started below. Last night’s beer was wanting out!
Getting out of bed, he quickly grabbed his bib overalls and fumbled to fasten one of the straps. Barefoot, he left the bedroom and stumbled towards the front porch.

The Storyteller

As a young man, Bubba had stayed way out in the country with his grandparents. That was after his mother had run off with some insurance salesman. His dad had said, “The Hell With It” and went on a drinkin’ binge that didn’t end until he’d walked out in front of one of the tractor’s in the county fair’s annual parade. Stopped the band for about an hour (Poor kids in those hot uniforms) while they took away the body and cleaned up the tractor.
Bubba’s grandfather was notorious for readin’ novels. That, in itself, wasn’t such a bad thing. However, unless you got up at the break of day, you could forget about utilizin’ the indoor plumbin’ facilities until lunch. He’d sit in that little room and read all mornin‘! Educated man, he was!
Growin’ up, Bubba had grown accustomed to that fact. Instead of causin’ his insides to burst, he’d simply started goin’ out on the front porch and lettin’ loose. He’d gotten pretty good at writin’ different things in the snow, over time, and would be happy to put this skill up against any of his amateur friends!
After the death of his grandmother (his grandfather goin’ first to have some peace and quiet before his wife joined him), Bubba had sold the farm and bought himself a house in town. (He said it was a whole lot closer to the liquor store and Ruck’s Pool Hall.) Still, old habits die hard.

Miss Lillian (Her Story By The Storyteller)

Now, old Miss Lillian lived across the street from Bubba. Bein’ an early riser, there was nothing more she liked to do in the morning’ than to take her coffee out to the porch swing and read the newspaper. (She used to say she was well informed, but we knew she just wanted to see what everyone in town had been up to so she’d have something to say when the round of mornin’ phone calls to her friends began.)
Miss Lillian was a true Southern Lady in upbringin‘. She liked things to be “proper” around her. When we were kids, she’d promise she’d have our daddies tan our hides with a switch if we didn’t act like little gentlemen. Oh, I forgot to tell you, she’d been our second grade teacher down at the elementary school for decades. Some even said when the school was built, she came with it! (Not many doubted that!)
First time Miss Lillian had seen Bubba do his morning thing, poor lady nearly had a heart attack! When she got over the shock, she went right to the phone and called the police. Of course, by the time they got there, with sirens blarin’ and lights flashin’ (mostly because they didn‘t get a chance to use them much with it being a small town and such), Bubba was long done. Didn’t make Miss Lillian very happy when they told her they couldn’t do anything’ unless they witnessed it or she provided a picture of the crime. Course, they had to bite their tongues to keep from laughin’ about it!
I hear Miss Lillian was so mad she actually used one or two words that threw her being proper right out the window! Surprised those police officers so much they acted like they were in second grade again waitin’ on her to pull out the ruler and whack their knuckles. She ran them right off the porch, screamin’ about how she’d do no such thing and all. It might’ve died there if one of ‘em hadn’t told her that the town wasn’t payin’ them to sit in front of Bubba’s house every morning‘, waitin’ on him to get up and … well, you know!
Miss Lillian picked up one of her smaller decorative yard pieces (I think it was one of those baby ducks that follows the mama to nowhere), and flung it at the police car as the officers jumped inside to escape her wrath, laughin’ their fool heads off. Now, by luck, that duck hit one of their flashin’ lights and shattered its clear lens!
Both those officers got out of the car real slowly, eyes lookin’ towards the broken fragments atop the roof of the cruiser. I hear they looked at those pieces, then, across the roof at each other, and then, back at the pieces on the roof. You ain’t gonna believe this, but they went up and handcuffed Miss Lillian, put her in the back seat of the cruiser and took off to jail! Oh, she was immediately released, but she never mentioned that morning’ to anyone. She never called the police on Bubba again, either!

Neighbors Forever

Bubba pushed open the screen door and shuffled out to the edge of the porch. He coughed several times before clearing his throat of the remnants of the previous night’s cigarette smoking. Gathering it up in his mouth, he finally spit and let it fly as far as he could! It landed way down the sidewalk.
Rearing his arms up, he arched his back and stretched until he started hearing his vertebrae pop. Relaxing now, he stared across the street at Miss Lillian’s. He could see her, staring at him behind the many colors and multiple flower pots in her front window. He realized long before that it ticked her off to see him do his thing, but he kind of got a kick out of making her squirm. Had to get back at the bitch somehow for how she’d treated him in second grade.
Reaching down, he unbuttoned the bib fly, reached in, and eased it out. He’d perfected the two finger hold years ago when he’d catch snakes in the woods out behind his grandparents farm. Yep, he still had it.
Pushing from his stomach, he arched the stream towards the recent spit on the sidewalk. Up and down, back and forth, and … well, you get the picture. After thirty seconds and a couple of relief filled sighs, the spit was washed away. Bubba put things back where they belonged and just rested a moment.
He stood there just trying to get his mind working halfway right as it pushed aside the hangover and began to remind him of all he had to do that day. Raising his right arm, he waved at Miss Lillian and turned towards the screen door.
Yep, the day definitely had possibilities!

Author's Note

Several years ago (My Gosh, it's been ten years!), I started writing a book. After going nowhere and 400 pages later, it still sits unfinished.
This was the first chapter of that book, revised for the 658th time! Even if the rest of it never gets published, I can say the 1st chapter did!
Hope you enjoyed!
©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved

Times That Screaming "Bomb" May, Or May Not, Benefit You (Humor)


Times That Screaming "Bomb" May, Or May Not, Benefit You - (Humor)

Source: bing.com


Source: bing.com

Disclaimer:

This article is only written in jest!
This article is not telling you to do something illegal, by any means. Although, after reading this you may be tempted, it is highly inadvisable to proceed along the directed lines and scream "BOMB" at any place, or at any time.
The only exceptions to the rule would be if you actually had a bomb, or knew of a bomb that could be dangerous to human life. Otherwise, screaming "BOMB" is classified as a false alert and may be punishable by law, or worse!
Again, this is only in jest ... I'm innocent if you should do any of the below.
(I don't know how much more clear I can make this, but if you still don't understand ... "Listen, friend! If you do any of the junk listed below and you'll either end up in jail with a crazed cell buddy or prematurely demised! Understand?")
Hopefully, that takes care of it. Whew!


Some Thoughts

The natural reaction to hearing someone scream "BOMB" is one of fear. "Which way do I go, George, which way do I go?" is the secondary thought, if your body hasn't already lost control of its bodily functions and caused you to soil your pants.
However, screaming "BOMB" has limited benefits. Lets look at some of these below, as well as some of the times screaming "BOMB" may be detrimental to one's health.
Source: bing.com
Source: bing.com

Times To Scream "BOMB"

1. You should be safe to scream "BOMB" at family reunions. No one truly enjoys spending hours with their relatives' children clutching and grabbing at them with greasy fingers from the fried chicken. When you've had enough of Aunt Martha's arthritis complaining, or Uncle Fred's eyes staring at your cleavage, jump up and run to your car screaming "BOMB" at the top of your lungs. This may not immediately clear out the event, it will ruin any further normal conversation of those few remaining, Plus, you'll save time not having to give the dreaded endless goodbyes.
2. Kids birthday parties present another place to scream "BOMB."When the kids get too cranky and you've had enough Kool Aid saturated in your carpet to validate the new you've wanted, grab your child in your arms and scream "BOMB" at the top of your lungs. Parents will rush to grab their children and take them home to safety. If you're lucky, your child will pick up on the situation and start screaming it, too! This will add an element of realism to the scenario!
3. When you're waiting in a long line of cars to get gas, screaming "BOMB" at the top of your lungs may quickly clear out the line in front of you. Of course, there will be a few $500 cars with $4000 stereo systems that don't hear you, but the drivers usually have only a couple of dollars in their pockets to spend on gas anyway. You've at least cut down your time in line by an hour or two!
Source: bing.com
Source: bing.com
Source: bing.com
4. Another great time to scream "BOMB" is when you're at the animal shelter adopting a pet and they've just told you how much you'll have to pay to have your new "loved one." Most of the minimum age counter help will run away in hope's of finding protective shelter, and you'll be able to easily walk out with your new pet. Oh, be sure to leave a couple of dollars on the counter. You can easily tell them you left the entire amount there, and because there wasn't anyone present to take it, some unworthy soul must have stolen the rest.
5. If you've just been presented with your check at the restaurant, and the waiter has said, "I'll be back for that in a minute" and left, this is the perfect time to scream, "BOMB!" Just make sure you're in the head of the group rushing for the door as your full stomach will slow you down and make you an easy target for the servers chasing you, otherwise!
6. Get your kids to scream "BOMB" while waiting in the endless line to see Santa Claus in the department store. It's funny to watch all the parents rushing through the underwear sections with kids in tow, and will make the line much shorter. Plus, you can always blame it on the kids and act embarrassed. Plus, the photographer is probably hiding in the Men's Restroom, so you save $10 on the photo you know you really didn't want, but felt obligated to buy. And, just think of the funny story you'll be able to tell your friends later!
7. Scream "BOMB" in a crowded car dealership when the salesperson is getting you the final figures on a car.Rise and head to the door quickly and watch the salesperson run to get you to stay. You'll find the final figures really are final, and that you're getting the car for a much lower figure. Just hope the one you're purchasing doesn't turn out to be a bomb!
8. If you need immediate treatment in a VA hospital, scream "BOMB" and watch the attention you'll get. It may take you a few minutes to get them to understand you really don't need the white coat they've provided you, but at least you'll be nice and cozy while you sit there talking to the shrink!
Source: bing.com
Source: bing.com

Times Not To Scream "BOMB"

1. Airports. This should go without saying, but for some that think it may be funny watching the TSA officers running around like the "Keystone Cops" of the silent film days. Believe me, these folks can't take a joke. Besides finding out how much time you'll get to serve in the local "iron bar" hotel, you'll see how easily you bruise, in addition to enjoying a free cavity search (as if a bomb could fit up there)!
2. NRA Conventions. Most that visit the National Rifle Association conventions are either licensed to carry concealed weapons, or have bodyguards that are. Screaming "BOMB" here is a good way to get headlines in the National Enquirer as "The Human Target Screams His Last Words."
3. Toys "R" Us. Christmas shopping may make this a very tempting place to scream "BOMB", but remember, you can't bring gift items back without a receipt. Bomb threats may scare the lines away, but they will also scare away the cashiers. You may be waiting a long time for your receipt as the police bomb squads take their time searching the store and attached warehouse.
4. Banks. Security is in full operation here. Screaming "BOMB" may seem like a good way to get the tellers moving at more than .002 mph, but it will also get your picture (mugshot) on the local evening newscast. Unless you have no acquaintances anywhere, and you know your escape is foolproof, it is highly recommended not to do any screaming (or whispering) here.
Source: bing.com
Source: bing.com
Source: bing.com
5. Convenience stores. Here, the help is generally not the smartest people you'll ever come across, but these places are known to have a very vindictive owner in the back with a shotgun. If you can't say "I was only joking" in Arabic or Japanese very quickly, it might serve you well to simply wait behind the family of 17 that insists on paying for their packs of chewing tobacco individually.
6. Police traffic stops (or roadblocks). Again, people with guns generally have a limited sense of humor. Emotions run high and bullets may flow freely. Also, if you say this to an officer before putting down your cell phone, you're asking to become part of the free cell network in the sky (and put on hold by St. Peter).
7. After having a wild and passionate evening of lovemaking with the person you never want to see again, screaming "BOMB" immediately after may hex you. Instead of living free, you'll be giving them a call in 3-6 weeks to discuss support arrangements of a future arrival.
8. In church. It may seem like a good way to end the minister's long winded sermon, but you may again find yourself put on hold by St. Peter in the future. God likes humor, but doesn't like it when you disturb someone talking highly of him. It's the same trait he gave to our politicians and Boy Scout troop leaders.
Source: bing.com

A Last Word

Although temptation may be your constant companion, especially since screaming "BOMB" will be on your mind having read this, it is highly recommended to restrain yourself from doing so.
The stress you create may find some slightly upset when it is discovered as a hoax. Stressful situations create violence at times. Not wanting one's nose broken, or arms or legs in long term relationships with casts, silence may be the better choice. But, do as you must.
Just remember, you've been warned!

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved

Television Madness (Fantasy Humor)


Television Madness (Fantasy Humor)

Source: Stock Free Images

Television Is Pure Excitement .... zzzzzzzzz

Another boring night of television. I'm so grateful to Direct TV for providing me with 300+ channels aimed at the intelligence level of the moronic. My 50" HD television is begging me to rise up and select a Blu-Ray of some possible interest. Yet, as I settle deeper into my recliner, my body provides resistance to any thought of vertical attainment.
Howie Mandel
Howie Mandel
Source: Wikipedia Commons
Howard Stern
Howard Stern
Source: Wikipedia Commons

Madness Begins

Suddenly, I am sitting between Howard Stern and Howie Mandel, judging a contestant on America's Got Talent. My earrings dangle, rubbing against my shoulders, as the weight of the 74 karat diamond necklace tickles my breasts with its coolness.
Wait a minute! Breasts?
I look down to see a pair that would stimulate my animal instincts at any other time. Squirming in my seat ever so slightly, I find my animal instincts are missing. When was I neutered?
The contestant is mocking Howard’s decision to “X” him out before completion of his attempt to climb Mt. Everest, which is filling the stage from front to back. The chill provided by the wind and snow tightens my nipples.
My physicality gender conflict rages! Still, I must demonstrate empathy for the contestant on stage that Howard is chastising. Intelligently gathering my thoughts, I retort to Howard’s comments with a moment of inspiration, “Cram it up your ___ , you ass!”
I feel foolish over using "ass" twice in the same dialogue. Trembling, I have an immediate need to be held closely by Ozzy.
Anna Panquin  (Sookie Stackhouse)
Anna Panquin (Sookie Stackhouse)
Source: Wikipedia Commons
Steven Moyer  (Bill Compton)
Steven Moyer (Bill Compton)
Source: Wikipedia Commons
Alexander Skarsgard (Eric Northman)
Alexander Skarsgard (Eric Northman)
Source: Wikipedia Commons

Madness Continues

I shudder as an earring drops down my cleavage. Howard volunteers to get it for me. I hit him with a solid left hook as he comes close. His sunglasses fly into the audience by Oprah Winfrey, who drops them in her excitement.
Howie latches on to my back to restrain me from doing any further damage to his friend and lover. I’m pulled to the floor, my head hitting the table as I go down on my back.
I awake looking at a couple of breasts that are not mine. Sookie Stackhouse, from True Blood, is leaning over and cuddling my aching skull against her torso in a sense of endearment. I’m immediately attracted to her, or at least, to what is staring me in the face.
I take my eyes away to look down my own body. I’m pleased to see my cleavage is no longer a factor. I am also happy to find I am once again of male gender. I return my stare to Sookie and her attributes. I am home and never want to leave.
A side door flies open and there, in front of us, ruining the moment, are the two major vampires, from True Blood, Bill Compton and Eric Northman. Bill has Howard Stern in his grasp and is lapping blood from his gashed throat. Eric is chasing Howie, who has an inflated rubber glove on his head, around the auditorium.
Howie is screaming, “Don’t touch me! You’re full of germs!”
Eric looks for some hand cleaner, and is given a bottle of bleach by Brick, the little boy from The Middle. He is hiding from a librarian in the back of the room, who is buying a car from the boy’s mother!
Atticus Shaffer  (The Middle)
Atticus Shaffer (The Middle)
Source: Wikipedia Commons
Dr. Phil  (Phil McGraw)
Dr. Phil (Phil McGraw)
Source: wikipedia commons
Rachael Ray
Rachael Ray
Source: Wikipedia Commons

Still More Madness

Suddenly, Sookie is yanked away from behind by Hugh Rowland, from Ice Road Truckers, who proclaims she’s his lost lover. I roll out of the way as his 18 wheeler slips out of gear and rolls over Howard Stern's dead body.
Rising quickly and stepping away from the scene to avoid being splattered, I find Bill awaiting me with open fangs. Luckily, he is interrupted as Dr. Philappears, brings in 3 stools, and asks us to sit with him.
“Bill, obviously, you’re a vampire. I just want the folks at home to understand this. You are a vampire, not by your own choosing, but still, you are a vampire. Would you please tell the folks at home what it‘s like to be a vampire, even though it‘s not of your own choosing?”
Tiring of this seemingly endless rhetoric, Bill leaps at Dr. Phil and knocks him off his stool. Dr. Phil pleads for security to assist him. The security crew from The Jerry Springer Showruns on stage and attempts to separate them.
Elisabeth Hasselbeck  (The View)
Elisabeth Hasselbeck (The View)
Source: feed blitz
Vince McMahon
Vince McMahon
Source: Wikipedia Commons

Madness Not Done

Three overweight reality stars of Pawn Stars enter and add to the melee. The Real Housewives of New Jersey sit back and bitch about broken nails and friendships. Blake Shelton from The Voice arrives with his ukelele and starts singing “Born To Be Wild.” The sound from the amplified ukelele is deafening.
My arm is grabbed and I’m pulled from the madness by Rachel Ray, asking if I‘d like something to eat. Never one to turn down a free meal, we enter her studio, only to find Whoopi Goldberg and Elisabeth Hasselbeck, from The View, arguing over what type of cheese is best to use on tacos at Jewish weddings.
Rachel grabs a bottle of cooking wine, mixed with toe jam and cilantro, and pours it over their heads. The crowd roars with laughter before they are all given a free cd of Cher and whisked away to dance the afternoon away with Ellen DeGeneres.
I walk over to a crying and dejected Elisabeth to comfort her and admire her abs, but am pushed away by a grinning Maury Povich. He questions her intermittently as he sucks the wine mixture from her hair.
“Elisabeth, are you sure (slurp) as to the identity (slurp) of your oldest child’s (slurp) father?”
Before she can answer, Vince McMahon from Monday Night Rawsneaks in and body slams Maury. Then, picking up Elisabeth in his arms, he carries her away hurriedly. He is chased by an aging Hulk Hogan, holding onto his walker with wheels, screaming for Vince to pay the weekly rental fee on his new TV.

Bye Bye Madness?

Wait a minute... new TV?
My back is reminding me why I need to replace my recliner. My neutered cat, who thinks he’s a dog, Faletame, is down by my crotch, saying something about my becoming a eunuch. TV is showing American Pickers picking something out of an old barn.
I hit the menu button on the remote and see Gator Boys, Storage Wars, and Top Gear listings staring me in the face. Reality TV, violence and sex are television's primary offerings.
Oh, yeah! I was going to select a Blu-Ray!
Let's see.... Pulp Fiction or The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo?

Important (Well, not really) Poll

Which Musical Artist Did You Prefer?

  •  Fleetwood Mac
  •  Cliff Richard
  •  Aerosmith
  •  Cypress Hill
  •  The Other One
See results without voting
**If you listed answer #5, it is obvious you scanned this hub instead of actually having read the hub. Didn't think you'd get caught, did you?

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved

What If Our Pets Talked About Us On Hubpages (Humor)


What If Our Pets Talked About Us On Hubpages (Humor)

To Fear or Not To Fear, That Is Something Only You Know!

In my short time on Hubpages, I’m happy to say I’ve got to know some of you fairly well. Your support has been amazing and your comments so kind. It makes me believe that each of you are tremendous individuals.
I have created a monster, though. By putting his picture on the web in a couple of hubs, my cat, Faletame, has gotten somewhat famous. Wanting his time in the spotlight, he has a little something to say to a few of you!

It’s My Time To Speak! (Rich & Billybuc)

First, I just want to correct Rich. I don’t know how many times I have to tell him I’m a dog, not a cat! I’m a dog that uses a litter box because Rich is too damn lazy to take me out for a walk! All he does is sit at the computer and check his statistics, drink coffee like crazy, and smoke the house up so much I’m probably going to die from second hand smoke inhalation! Look! My fur's yellowing with nicotine! Ugh! He puts in so much time looking over this website and writing that I have to physically grab him to get him off his ass so that he’ll play with me. He’s the one that needs a leash so I can drag his tail away from that damn keyboard.
Billybuc: Don’t you dare walk away! You’re not immune here! If you wouldn’t go around complimenting everyone in your down home personality, maybe their tails wouldn’t be resembling 50 lb. bags of Purina Dog Chow! Oh, by the way, I’ve been talking to your dog (on those few occasions you leave to go to the bathroom). He kind of likes you. But, if you don’t start paying him scale wages for filming you every day, he’s gonna take you to court and get everything you have! With all the cash you make from Hubpages, you can spare it! You know that and I know that! Give it up, big boy!

Josh3418

You’re a real worry, boy! Your dog tells me that you never go out! You sit there, typing all sorts of cutsy Limericks and articles, but you never go out! Let me tell you, before Rich had me fixed, you couldn’t keep me at home! I was out every night, checkin’ out the babes on the block, smellin’ around (and around and around) and enjoying life! You gotta get out, lad. Start smellin’ the roses (a little more over to the left if you don’t mind, I kinda forgot I did a little something right there yesterday) and get out more. Stop dreamin’ and findin’ out you’re only dreamin’ when you wake up! Try this one on for size:
There was a young man we’ll call Josh
who pretended he was Peter Tosh
found a sweet chick
wanted him quick
But all he could say was “My Gosh”

Patty Kenyon

Girl, you got your cat brainwashed. She thinks you’re absolutely perfect! You’re a good wife, you take care of the kids, you clean the house and cook dinner, and then you somehow find time to write. Oh, and you’re pretty good a keeping the litter box halfway clean. Although, last weekend, when you forgot, after serving her that Spicy Mexican Little Friskies, she almost let you have it. If you do it again watch out when you sit down at your computer! That’s all I can say!

Kittythedreamer,

Kitty: Your cat talks about being a human in a cat’s body. I have no idea if it’s true or not, but when I brought up the Meow Mix commercial kitty, he wasn’t turned on at all. He would like to add that if you continue to stink up the house with that cauldron on top of the stove, he’s going to contribute to the odor of the home, too. (Psst, he said something about a cupboard) But, he wanted to add he’s only joking and to please not cast another spell on him. And, personally, I think you’re great. No complaints. Ahhh, do you think you could change me back into a dog’s body?

Nell Rose & Becky Bruce

Nell Rose, I had to go to your neighbor’s dog to get the scoop on you. He says you constantly have problems figuring out the difference between dogs and cats. (That’s something I can vouch to.) He also said that even though you act so proper on Hubpages, you do a mean head banging to Ozzy and the rest of Black Sabbath. Says you’ve got this black T-shirt that’s cut way up to… well, anyway, he says you’re a rockin’ lady. He would appreciate another biscuit from time to time, if you don’t mind.
and most of all…
Becky Bruce, How are things on the West Coast. "Fa Suuurahh!" Just joking. Your dog thinks a lot of you. Even says you take him for a walk….that’s singular “A” Walk at least once a day! Trouble is HE’S GOT TO GO MORE THAN ONCE A DAY!!! He knows you’re blond… or at least he thinks you’re blond, but lady, you gotta remember the smaller the dog the smaller the bladder!! Put that avocado down and take him outside more. Otherwise, that computer may develop an electrical short. Can you say, “Moisture Damage?”

Okay, I'm Almost Done

There’s many more of you that I have insight on from your pets. Some is good, and some is damn right embarrassing. Take it from the words of a dog in a cat’s body. “Be careful leaving your computer on Hubpages when you leave the room. It’s amazing how many words claws can type in just a couple of minutes!!!”

Faletame's Disclaimer (Because not everyone has a sense of humor)

If there is any animosity or discontent In what's been written here, please take it up with Becky Bruce who inspired this hub with a comment she wrote in one of Rich's hubs. I won’t be responsible, nor will my so called master, Rich, be responsible for anything your animals asked to be said here. Rich would like for me to say to have mercy upon him, for my acts are in no way indicative of his. You’re all, and others not mentioned due to space constraints, tremendous talents. You just gotta pay more attention to us from time to time. Especially, when our bladders call! And hopefully, the next time you see me, I’ll have my dog’s body back!

Rich's Disclaimer

I sincerely hope none of you are offended by being a part of this hub. All comments were meant in jest and were hopefully taken that way. I appreciate all of you, and many more that weren't mentioned (at least I still have some friends left).
©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved

The Study Of The Mind: Sense Or Nonsense? (Social Commentary)


The Study Of The Mind: Sense or Nonsense? (Social Commentary)

The “Mind Industry”

As most of you, I was taught that the more we understood, the more we could would progress as a society. Yet, there are times that I have to question that statement.
For forty years, I have watched society's faith in psychologists grow considerably. At the same time, crime rates have escalated, the family unit has lost its central glue, and caring about one another has been replaced by complaining about one another!
I’m not going to blame the “Mind Industry" for all of this, as there are many other factors involved. However, let’s take a look at some of their stand out areas and see if there’s something not quite right with the information we’re receiving.

“We Must Understand The Criminal And Why He Commits The Crime”

King Solomon presented a very simple answer to crime. The “Eye For An Eye” concept was easy for the most feeble mind to understand. He has been praised for his wisdom many times, it goes without saying.
Enter lawyers. Individuals paid to prove their clients are innocent, whether they are or not. There are some in this profession that truly could “care less about the crime if they’re paid on time!” To say otherwise is to lie to oneself.
When lawyers found the facts stacked against them, they had to consider how to continue to earn their money. Since the jury consisted of people, and most people were kind and merciful, why not prey upon this attribute of mercy as an alternative? How better to do this than to bring in an “Expert” to explain why the mind allows, or validates a person to act in a certain manner?
Thus, here come the “Mind Industry” experts! Usually, they would resemble the three piece Oxford Suit individuals one would envision in an Ivy League Institution of higher learning. (Why does the movie, “The Paper Chase” come to mind?)
These “experts” would speak in the language of the highly educated and with such confidence that the normal jury member would feel intimidated. “Truly, such an “expert” must know what he’s talking about. Listen to all those contributing factors! Obviously, it’s not the fault of the criminal. He simply had a terrible childhood!”
Before news networks, the courtroom was the one of the few places you’d find these individuals. However, needing to fill on air time, a new home was soon provided. Any time a major crime occurred, expert upon expert was called upon to build ratings and provide validations.
Have so many validations been given that now all crime is validated? Hopefully, most of us would say “No” to this. Yet, as I've stated before, to an impressionable youth, seeing himself in a similar situation to an accused individual can validate acts he’s considered. Suddenly, instead of it being a battle of right and wrong, it’s “okay” to act because of validations provided.
Scary, is it not?

Family Specialists

I find it extremely difficult to sit and listen to a psychologist in his or her mid 20’s, that has never raised a family, proclaim those that have did it wrong. Here is a person that has no idea as to the geographical setting the children are being raised in, the economic situation of the family and its influence on the child, or the socially acceptable norm of outside influences (teachers, church, etc.), and they know it all because of a few books they used Cliffsnotes to get through in college.
And, how naive are those that listen?
Obviously, very naive! Suddenly, spanking a child is entirely wrong. Spank and go to jail or have your children removed from home by child protection. One should only talk to a child and make a viable impression upon them. If I would've told that to my father half a century ago, he’d have laughed himself silly, and then spanked me for lying.
Permissiveness seems to have created a group that disrespects all others. It blurred the line between right and wrong. Did I touch a nerve? Hope so!
I am totally against ever hitting a child in anger. Parents that grab their children up and whack them while in a grocery store line make me sick. And the reason why is simple. If a parent can’t demonstrate control of their actions, how do they expect their children to demonstrate it? Duh!
My wife and I utilized the “1-2-don’t make me say 3” method of discipline. This was highly effective. This method entails two warnings and then a ritual spanking. Ritual spanking? The ritual was a 20-25 minute lecture about why they were going to get a spanking, then a designated number of hand (no belts, switches, or paddles) whacks to the tail, finalized by another long lecture as to what they could do in the future to not have to go through it again.
It worked for several reasons. One, it gave me a chance to eliminate my anger before ever performing the act. The number of whacks, usually were 3-4, dependent upon the severity of the offense. They weren't aimed to injure, and were controlled for intensity. This was simply a statement that there is a harsh punishment if you refuse to listen to direction. The lectures fully explained the why’s to understand, and the how’s to prevent. To this day, my oldest daughter swears the lectures were the worst part of the entire event.
Many parents I've discussed this with agree that a certain amount of controlled spanking makes the listening more aware for other times. I’m sure many of you will disagree.
We all can see examples of those that were excessively beaten as youngsters. We can also see the affect of not disciplining at all in many. In fact, I was hub hopping and found a hub that showed so many admitting to shoplifting that they had obviously never been taught right from wrong. I was shocked, but could understand. With permissiveness and teenage pregnancies being the social norm, how can children having children teach what they have never been taught?
Isn't that what the “Mind Industry” experts wants us to do….understand?

I’m Okay, You’re….who the hell cares!

Need to be satisfied with who you are? Go back and get a copy of “I’m Okay, You’re Okay.” In a time when we were preaching “love your brother”, this publication taught you that you were fine and so was everyone else. So, if everyone’s okay, why worry about them, right?
In fact, the floodgates opened from that point on in the “Self Help” arena. Emphasis on “Self”, instead of others. “It’s all about me!” “Who cares about them?” “I’m Important!”
Society is now more concerned about the “me” than anything else. Years ago, the “Me’s” were called “busybodies” and were made fun of. Today, Huff Post is filled with them in the comments sections of the articles presented. These individuals want everyone to be like them, and if they’re not, they'll cut them to pieces with their words.
If they don’t smoke, they obnoxiously attack smokers. If they don’t like Miley’s weekend actions, they boldly attack her mercilessly. If they don’t like people owning guns, they cowardly attack them hidden in fake screen names. They don’t care about anyone but themselves. If you don’t believe it go take a look. I’ll wait.
Weren't we taught to overlook the personal actions of others that we didn't agree with? Weren't we taught to ignore gossip, and that those who gossip only do so because they’ve nothing else to do with their miserable lives? Weren't we taught that everyone is an individual, so get over it if you don’t like it? Or, weren't we taught at all?
Oh, we make a good show from time to time allowing an hour or two of compassion when something tragic occurs. Then, it’s back to reality TV and popcorn and leaving rude comments about whatever you don’t like. Self Help has turned our society into selfish Self Absorbed, Self Centered idiots! Time for everyone to dress the same, act the same, and be the mindless robots we’re currently imitating.

What To Do?

The credibility of the “Mind Industry” is about par with any entertainment industry. It will always be coming up with something new, will always be presented by professionals wanting to impress with their credentials, and it will always play to any audience that will watch and listen.
Wouldn't you do something about crime if you could? Well, how about starting with your own family? Keep the family unit together, teach right from wrong, demonstrate there are consequences that are not always agreeable for those who veer from the proper path, and stop validating the acts of criminals.
Start caring about others instead of trying to make them like yourself. They may or may not want to be like you or vice versa. So what? Stop trying to force your habits on them and teach them how to do the same. Admire the differences and learn from them instead of trying to rule them.
Most of all, use the common sense you have stored in the cobwebs of the skull. Stop listening to those that have never been in your shoes and start doing what you know is right.
The Brotherhood Of Man once performed a song called “United We Stand.” The chorus went something like this:
“United we stand, divided we fall,
and if our backs should ever be against the wall,
we’ll be together, together you and I”
Stop chipping away each other and at common sense. It’s time we joined together and enjoyed the different things we all have to offer.
Or, don’t you care?

©Copyright RCRUMPLE2012. All Rights Reserved.
This Hub was last updated on February 26, 2013