Dear Jeremy,
I am going to make this a quick letter—first I want you to know I have been writing a letter for you that I hope to post soon. My work schedule along with the rigors of moving into our house, setting it up, and preparing for the arrival of your sister have kept my writing time to a minimum; especially the somewhat politically charged kind of correspondence I generally try to send you from the past. Luckily, there are little politics involved in the letter I am writing to you now.
As I am typing this letter you are blissfully sleeping, generally unaware of the change that is about to occur in the morning. By all accounts you sister is going to be delivered via C-Section before 11 AM tomorrow. I promised myself that I would write at least this letter to you before your sister arrived and I will be damned if I do not do so.
The past 20 months of my life (the entirety of your own) have been the most amazingly fulfilling I have ever experienced—and this is entirely due to you. Being a father has added a new dimension to my life that I could have never imagined. I love you very much and you bring great joy into my heart. Your mother, you, and me are about to enter into a new phase of our family life together with the arrival of your sister. We expect that she will bring us to a new dimension we could not have imagined as well—we expect her to bring great joy into our hearts as well, and we will love her as well.
With that said, as I am sure you know, your mother and I are both only children and we have been somewhat concerned about how to do deal with your feeling on the subject of having a baby sister. Will you be jealous? Undoubtedly. Will you cry when we can’t pick you up because the new baby will need us to do more for her for a while? Unavoidably. Will you steal her bottle, her pacifier, her toys? Will you make her cry? You betcha. Will we forget you are there? Not a chance.
You will be just as special tomorrow after she is born as you have been until now—if not more so. You will have a new dimension added unto your life: big brother. And your little sister will need you very much in her life. I want you to know that. We have spoken to you about the baby coming, but I feel like you have been more interested in cars, Elmo, and playing—and I can understand that. So I want you to have this list of promises I make to you. I want you to hold me to them, and I will do my best to keep them myself.
- We will never expect you two to be the same.
- We will never make one of you feel better or worse than another.
- We will not play favorites.
- We will never use one child against the other.
- We will love you both more and more each day, unconditionally and without end.
- We will support your preferences, choices, and decisions as best we can.
- We will provide everything we can to make your lives comfortable.
- We will teach you both that hard work and high goals pay off.
- We will practice what we preach.
- We will listen to your opinions and thoughts.
- We will always be there for you.
- We will expose you to as much knowledge and experience with the world as we can.
- We will honor your individuality and indulge your creativity.
- We will always make you feel special.
- We will always let you know you are the most important things in the world for us.
These may seem like givens—like there shouldn’t be any other way—and, if by the time you read this, you cannot imagine there being another way then we’ve done our jobs well and kept our promise. Tomorrow our hearts open a little wider, and our world gets a lot warmer when you sister is born. Life is an amazing and wonderful journey, my son. I never expected you and a doubt I could begin to expect your sister.
My last promise is that these letters will continue to be addressed to you. I have an idea for something for her—it’s not quite there yet but I will have it together soon. I only ask that you don’t mind sharing them with your sister in the event that fate has taken me from the two of you. Occasionally I may talk to her, give updates on her, and send her my regards in my letters to you. These are sentiments that I place in trust of a loving, protective, and caring big brother who will dutifully deliver messages to his sister from their father.
Remember always that I am proud of you, and I love you. You are very special and important to me and your mother. Everything we do we do for you…and now for your sister as well. There is no clean way to wrap this up. I love you.
Love,
Your Father
PS: You are speaking more and more every day. You radiate a brightness and curiosity that automatically endears you to everyone who meets you. You have a personality, a sense of humor, a uniqueness to you that cannot be denied and will not be suppressed. You are now 20 months old and have been going to daycare (school) and you love it there. Since going you have truly started to grow—being with other children your age has launched you into new levels of growth—hopefully you and your sister weill help each other in that way too.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
June 19th, 2011
June 19th, 2011
Dear Jeremy,
Today is both my second Father’s Day as a father and my second Father’s Day as an expecting Father. I would just like to take this moment to quickly reflect on the changes that have occurred in my life both by virtue of your birth and also in confluence.
Since you were born I have walked for both my Bachelor’s Degree and Master’s. Since you were born I have helped start an auspicious company with a mind geared toward both bringing people the joy of escapist literature and the future. I have undertaken and completed about 80% of my first novel, which is currently running. I have begun the prep-work for my first graphic novel. I have started two blogs (including this one) as well as developed at least two ongoing internet columns that will be running on Eat Your Serial along with my novel. I have officially become employed as an elementary school teacher.
I have learned to view your achievements as my own. I have watched you grow with awe and wonder. I have seen you grow and develop from a little helpless newborn into a curious little money; climbing, exploring, playing, questioning, walking, crawling, babbling, and interacting with the world. I have learned that the cliché is not a lie—it does hurt me more than it hurts you. I have learned that there is great joy and rapture in watching you discover even the most minute of things. Watching you play with toy cars as naturally as you breathe, seeing you walk backwards as if it's a magic trick, and playing along as you figured out that peek-a-boo is enormously fun—though I wonder when you will figure out that just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean that I can’t see you. I watch with delight as you walk and with humor as you trip, stumble, and fall because it is followed by the pride as you pull yourself up and go back about your business.
I have come to appreciate my father and my grandfathers, and all father figures and fathers in a greater way being your father and the father of you as-of-yet unidentified sibling. I have come to appreciate Jor-El along with Kal-El, Uncle Ben along with Peter Parker, and, well I always appreciated Batman but now a new dimension in respect to Robin(s) and Nightwing; as well as many other non-fictional fathers.
In respect to that, and all humor aside, I look forward to many more Father’s Days of watching you grow and develop.
Love,
Your Father
P.S. Since I’ve been home you’ve developed quite an appreciation for Sesame Street and especially that accursed Elmo. You stick to Elmo and the Sesame Street gang like glue. Thank god for Jim Henson and the Children’s Television Workshop…but mostly thank god for viewers like you.
Dear Jeremy,
Today is both my second Father’s Day as a father and my second Father’s Day as an expecting Father. I would just like to take this moment to quickly reflect on the changes that have occurred in my life both by virtue of your birth and also in confluence.
Since you were born I have walked for both my Bachelor’s Degree and Master’s. Since you were born I have helped start an auspicious company with a mind geared toward both bringing people the joy of escapist literature and the future. I have undertaken and completed about 80% of my first novel, which is currently running. I have begun the prep-work for my first graphic novel. I have started two blogs (including this one) as well as developed at least two ongoing internet columns that will be running on Eat Your Serial along with my novel. I have officially become employed as an elementary school teacher.
I have learned to view your achievements as my own. I have watched you grow with awe and wonder. I have seen you grow and develop from a little helpless newborn into a curious little money; climbing, exploring, playing, questioning, walking, crawling, babbling, and interacting with the world. I have learned that the cliché is not a lie—it does hurt me more than it hurts you. I have learned that there is great joy and rapture in watching you discover even the most minute of things. Watching you play with toy cars as naturally as you breathe, seeing you walk backwards as if it's a magic trick, and playing along as you figured out that peek-a-boo is enormously fun—though I wonder when you will figure out that just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean that I can’t see you. I watch with delight as you walk and with humor as you trip, stumble, and fall because it is followed by the pride as you pull yourself up and go back about your business.
I have come to appreciate my father and my grandfathers, and all father figures and fathers in a greater way being your father and the father of you as-of-yet unidentified sibling. I have come to appreciate Jor-El along with Kal-El, Uncle Ben along with Peter Parker, and, well I always appreciated Batman but now a new dimension in respect to Robin(s) and Nightwing; as well as many other non-fictional fathers.
In respect to that, and all humor aside, I look forward to many more Father’s Days of watching you grow and develop.
Love,
Your Father
P.S. Since I’ve been home you’ve developed quite an appreciation for Sesame Street and especially that accursed Elmo. You stick to Elmo and the Sesame Street gang like glue. Thank god for Jim Henson and the Children’s Television Workshop…but mostly thank god for viewers like you.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
June 1st, 2011
June 1st, 2011
Dear Jeremy,
My son, the world turns; never blink or you’ll miss it. I had long resigned the capture of Osama Bin Laden to the world of jokes and conspiracy theories. It has been nearly a decade since the terrorist attacks of 9/11. People would often quip “We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t find Osama,” or “A camera can give me a red light ticket but they can’t find Bin Laden”. Two days ago President Obama, who has borne the accusation of cow towing to the Arab world and being soft on terror, announced that “at his command” a team of Navy SEALS found Osama and relieved the Earth of his burden.
The nation exploded. Not since the Allies declared victory in World War II, I think, have Americans congregated apolitically, spontaneously, en masse in front of the White House and in Times Square. People gathered at the slowly rising Ground Zero site. Americans were flooding the streets singing the National Anthem and chanting “USA, USA, USA”. I could not believe what I was seeing from my fellow Americans. I have never in my life seen such unity in our people that was simultaneously joyous, proud, and exuberant.
Grandpa Kenny called me up around ten or ten thirty on that 1st of May. I was working on a final presentation that, incidentally I gave not 40 minutes before I started writing you this letter. I was ready for a late night; what I got was an all-nighter.
“Are you watching the news?” My father asked.
“No. What happened?”
“It seems the president is about to make a speech…”
At this hour? I thought to myself. Something big must be going on. The president had, several days earlier released his “long form” birth certificate to the country and the day before gave a hellava hilarious and sharp speech at the White House Correspondents’ dinner—so he was on a run.
What Grandpa Kenny told me was shocking. A wave of excitement rushed over me.
“Apparently, he is going to announce that they found, killed, and have the body of Osama Bin Laden.”
Jeremy, I am not one to take joy in the death of men (well in movies and video games, yes, but not in reality). I take very little joy in the pain and despair of others, of animals, of extra-terrestrials…sometimes I feel bad for eating (but dammit I’m hungry!). When the US found Saddam Hussein, when the Iraqi people tried him and had him hanged, I did not rejoice. I knew the world was a better place without him, that he would kill me with hesitation, that he hated everything about my people; I did not make phone calls to spread the word. (I did search tirelessly for a video of it, but that was more of morbid curiosity than triumphant—it was academic, not emotional.)
But Bin Laden? That sonofabitch sent a ripple effect through our national psychology that was endlessly effective. Our way of life changed, our country grew polarized (more so), many of my peers went to war and lost their lives in pursuit of justice. But not just justice: vengeance. Revenge is almost never proper. I believe in being the bigger man, finding solace in your personal morality. Right makes might. I believe this, even now. That is how I conduct my life.
Sometimes motherfuckers gotta get killed.
I made some phone calls after that. I called Papa Joe, He was excited to hear the news. I don’t think he cared which President got Osama as long as that bastard was dead as a doornail. I called Grandpa Glenn. You were actually sleeping over at his house just then so I didn’t call him too aggressively because I didn’t want to wake you up. I sent him a text message after he didn’t answer two phone calls. In today’s world of YouTube and other readily available media I didn’t think he’d mind.
I called Keith and spoke with him for a while about it, about the cultural significance of Obama’s Presidency, and the lack of transcendence in poor and minority communities of his accomplishments as symbolism among young men. We also spoke about how “He got that motherfucker,” so don't get me wrong here; we took a sober moment to examine the accomplishments of the man. A half white, half black man, with a Muslim name, from the most remote State in the Union attended Columbia and Harvard, taught law, wrote two books, is an independent millionare, is a strong family man, served in the Senate, became President of the United States, passed several landmark laws (including laws guaranteeing equal pay for women, and the infamous health care reforms), won a Nobel Peace Prize during his Presidency, can catch a fly with his bare hands, delivered a pull out time table for the war in Afghanistan…and accomplished the mission before said pull out by catching the man President Bush could not. Whoa. That's a lot of stuff. I’m sure the President is a good bowler and has a decent jump shot as well.
Still, many young minorities prefer to give their admiration to professional athletes or entertainers citing “What has Obama done for me?” not realizing professional athletes and entertainers do nothing for them. They may cite his achievements are “not relatable” and don’t “speak to the streets”. I don’t think that is a totally true perspective—I think entertainment is more glamorous than politics, and requires less to appreciate. Also Rappers, for example, represent a counter cultural “Do what I gotta” image while the President—regardless of his color—is by definition “The Man”, “The Institution”, “The Authority” that they perceive as oppressive, repressive, and offensive to their goals.
I spoke online to your godfather, Danny, about how Wolf Blitzer is an idiot as he spouted statements like “I assume they have DNA evidence”. Why would you assume that? Journalists aren’t supposed to assume anything. The media today employ journalism so yellow it makes piss look like the white driven snow of the Klondike, I swear. Finally, the President gave his speech. It was under ten minutes. He thanked President Bush and his efforts, he told us “Justice has been served”, and the nation exploded. I asked Danny if he thought our celebrations in the street would be paralleled to the Anti-American Arab rejoicing in the streets just after 9/11. He didn’t want to admit that people could draw that parallel—but we both agreed that people are an amazing animal. It would not be 24 hours before the internet was weighted down with comments from all corners about how “we are no better”.
Let me make this plain and simple:
Rejoicing over the deaths of thousands of unsuspecting civilians in peace time via weaponized commuter airliner is a crime against humanity. It is an act of evil, not a protest. It is not a religious act it is a political one.
Rejoicing over the death of the plotter who manipulated religion to convince others to kamikaze themselves to perpetrate that act and hide for almost a decade as a coward is not a crime against humanity. It is a celebration of Justice. Osama Bin Laden should have, in perfect justice, been killed as thousands of times. His one death does not bring as much justice as it might, but it’ll have to do.
I continued to be awake through the night, working on my presentation and communicating through Facebook and Twitter about these happenings and watching and monitoring the rhetoric and the public’s reaction (and reacting a bit myself). I got into a particular thread on Facebook that I found to be troubling because it was, indeed, indicative of the conversation I had with Keith earlier. I was speaking with my friend Courtney about a posting he made insinuating that, not only was 9/11 an inside job but that the entirety of the government are puppets for the Illuminati. His assertion was that, as a people, we are constantly being duped, mislead, fooled, and herded towards some ultimate and nefarious purpose of shadowy silhouetted figures of mysterious political power and wealth.
I won’t delve too deeply into the subject of that debate but I must take a second to elucidate upon my particular stance on the Mason/Freemason/Illuminati conspiracy theory (in general). It would be an incredibly ineffective geopolitical secret society that allows movies, documentaries, and any other kind of base knowledge of its existence to proliferate to and through the masses. Some argue that this is due to hubris; they say that the secret society doesn’t care if the secret is out because they are unstoppable.
This reasoning is circular within a few decimals of pi: The society is secret, but everyone knows about it, it can afford not to be secret; nobody knows the real secret. Something doesn’t add up and I refuse to believe that at this point in my life I am missing any piece of vital information that can keep a secret society secret if everyone knows about it. I can only accept that the Illuminati conspiracy is a dummy or red herring for some other dubious geopolitical secret society, organization, or group that runs everything; but it logically begs the question “How different could the true puppeteers be than the ruse?” Not much, I assert.
Does this mean that I don't think that there are people behind the scenes that make things move and shake, whom we have very little or no knowledge of? That there aren’t people of great wealth, clout, influence, or incentive that can easily sway the course of might nations? No it does not. I just don’t think it is an ancient secret society that worships an extra dimensional shape and hides clues in everything from pop music to the one dollar bill like the Riddler. There are super-villains in this world, my son, and one of them just got a bullet through the head from an exquisitely trained Navy SEAL; I assure you he wasn’t leaving clues on purpose to be found. Those who wield such behind the scenes influence are most likely not part of any cult beyond business, rarely worship any abstraction beyond the bottom line, and don’t actually run for office themselves because it is easier to move a finger and watch the marionette dance than it is to dance yourself.
My debate with Courtney and his friend Antonio went on for an hour or so. Antonio had a different perspective that it didn’t matter if Bin Laden was dead because the system is only seeking to make complacent drones of the people—particularly those of minority or low socioeconomic status. This type of argument may or may not logically run into the Illuminati argument which Courtney was advocating. Antonio’s argument however has more teeth in the sense that there are many freedom limiting laws being ratified these days that are highly concerning, as well as a great deal of self-destructive legislative actions being conducted in, around, and unto the public education system. The short run of the argument boils down to: regardless of the veracity of their claims it doesn’t change the fact that justice has been served, Bin Laden had been shot, and its about fucking time.
Immediately following this Obama found himself teetering on an approval rating higher than it had been in over a year and a half. Not one to sit on his laurels he quickly began about debating whether or not to release the photos of a dead Bin Laden. Instead, so as to not rouse the terrorists against us, he only showed some top brass and high ranking Congressmen. Shortly thereafter Republicans started throwing their hats in the ring for the 2012 presidential election. Newt Gingrich returned from the abyss he had been tucked away in for the last 10 years while professional politicians like Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee weighed their options (Romney in Huckabee…seemingly not). Apparently they are ready to attack Obama on the economy—which they may have a shot at.
Then, out of nowhere, Obama decides to get in on the Israel/Palestine debate calling for a return to 1967 borders as a policy. What the fuck is that? As Benjamin Netenyahu would say the next day and in the following week those borders are impossible. They are indefensible from attack, they don’t account from the growth of the Israeli society in the past 40 years, and leaves the Israelis with no practical bargaining chips. Furthermore Bibi pointed out that since the Palestinian Authority (which is essentially Arafat’s Fatah) with an endorsement and backing from Hamas—a terrorist organization whose main pursuit is the destruction of Israel…destruction that is identified without recognizing the right of Israel to even exist in the first place.
Way to fuck up your polls. The Jewish community which overwhelmingly voted for Obama is not thrilled at this at all. Obama himself has had to do some back peddling and spinning of language. It was a bad move. The problem is that the Palestinian Authority is looking for recognition in the United Nations in September—which if they get it will make the PA lands a country and will make a territorial dispute in Israel into a war with a sovereign nation. It's a big problem with no apparent solution because Israel will not negotiate with the Palestinians so long as they are allied with Hamas; and they shouldn’t. The US doesn’t negotiate with terrorists or those who collude with them; we shouldn’t expect Israel to either. Furthermore we shouldn't expect them to do it when the terrorists live across the street, literally.
On that note, I can’t wrap this one up cleanly. Those were the big events of 2011. Bin Laden dead, Obama’s Israeli peace plan DOA. Sigh. Son, when you are 25 and I am 50 I can only hope that there is a place our people can call home. Even if I never want to live there, I’m damn sure I could, no questions asked. The Holocaust wasn’t that long ago and it could happen very quickly. I know this sounds awful conservative of me—but I never claimed to cling to one side or the other. My big personal issue is digging for consistency in my personal views and this issue is one of the big reasons because its seems that for Israel I feel one thing should happen…but I wonder if I’d feel the same for the United States to do it?
Until next time, my boy. I’m gonna be hanging out with you all summer!
Love,
Your Father
PS Since my last letter you have gone from kinda walking to really running, from making sounds to babbling with the intention of talking, you’ve grown many teeth, you’ve learned to climb, jump, and bounce. You are making a strong transition from baby to boy which is good because we’ve got another baby on the way. You’re gonna be a big brother, little man! Be a good one and “do nice” to the baby!
Oh, also I graduated from my Master’s Program. Thank God. And Eat Your Serial launched. Thank God. So I’m a Master, an entrepreneur, and a novelist. Also your Mommy and Me put a bid on a house—so we’re gonna have a house soon. Phew. Lets get busy! That’s not enough stuff yet!
Dear Jeremy,
My son, the world turns; never blink or you’ll miss it. I had long resigned the capture of Osama Bin Laden to the world of jokes and conspiracy theories. It has been nearly a decade since the terrorist attacks of 9/11. People would often quip “We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t find Osama,” or “A camera can give me a red light ticket but they can’t find Bin Laden”. Two days ago President Obama, who has borne the accusation of cow towing to the Arab world and being soft on terror, announced that “at his command” a team of Navy SEALS found Osama and relieved the Earth of his burden.
The nation exploded. Not since the Allies declared victory in World War II, I think, have Americans congregated apolitically, spontaneously, en masse in front of the White House and in Times Square. People gathered at the slowly rising Ground Zero site. Americans were flooding the streets singing the National Anthem and chanting “USA, USA, USA”. I could not believe what I was seeing from my fellow Americans. I have never in my life seen such unity in our people that was simultaneously joyous, proud, and exuberant.
Grandpa Kenny called me up around ten or ten thirty on that 1st of May. I was working on a final presentation that, incidentally I gave not 40 minutes before I started writing you this letter. I was ready for a late night; what I got was an all-nighter.
“Are you watching the news?” My father asked.
“No. What happened?”
“It seems the president is about to make a speech…”
At this hour? I thought to myself. Something big must be going on. The president had, several days earlier released his “long form” birth certificate to the country and the day before gave a hellava hilarious and sharp speech at the White House Correspondents’ dinner—so he was on a run.
What Grandpa Kenny told me was shocking. A wave of excitement rushed over me.
“Apparently, he is going to announce that they found, killed, and have the body of Osama Bin Laden.”
Jeremy, I am not one to take joy in the death of men (well in movies and video games, yes, but not in reality). I take very little joy in the pain and despair of others, of animals, of extra-terrestrials…sometimes I feel bad for eating (but dammit I’m hungry!). When the US found Saddam Hussein, when the Iraqi people tried him and had him hanged, I did not rejoice. I knew the world was a better place without him, that he would kill me with hesitation, that he hated everything about my people; I did not make phone calls to spread the word. (I did search tirelessly for a video of it, but that was more of morbid curiosity than triumphant—it was academic, not emotional.)
But Bin Laden? That sonofabitch sent a ripple effect through our national psychology that was endlessly effective. Our way of life changed, our country grew polarized (more so), many of my peers went to war and lost their lives in pursuit of justice. But not just justice: vengeance. Revenge is almost never proper. I believe in being the bigger man, finding solace in your personal morality. Right makes might. I believe this, even now. That is how I conduct my life.
Sometimes motherfuckers gotta get killed.
I made some phone calls after that. I called Papa Joe, He was excited to hear the news. I don’t think he cared which President got Osama as long as that bastard was dead as a doornail. I called Grandpa Glenn. You were actually sleeping over at his house just then so I didn’t call him too aggressively because I didn’t want to wake you up. I sent him a text message after he didn’t answer two phone calls. In today’s world of YouTube and other readily available media I didn’t think he’d mind.
I called Keith and spoke with him for a while about it, about the cultural significance of Obama’s Presidency, and the lack of transcendence in poor and minority communities of his accomplishments as symbolism among young men. We also spoke about how “He got that motherfucker,” so don't get me wrong here; we took a sober moment to examine the accomplishments of the man. A half white, half black man, with a Muslim name, from the most remote State in the Union attended Columbia and Harvard, taught law, wrote two books, is an independent millionare, is a strong family man, served in the Senate, became President of the United States, passed several landmark laws (including laws guaranteeing equal pay for women, and the infamous health care reforms), won a Nobel Peace Prize during his Presidency, can catch a fly with his bare hands, delivered a pull out time table for the war in Afghanistan…and accomplished the mission before said pull out by catching the man President Bush could not. Whoa. That's a lot of stuff. I’m sure the President is a good bowler and has a decent jump shot as well.
Still, many young minorities prefer to give their admiration to professional athletes or entertainers citing “What has Obama done for me?” not realizing professional athletes and entertainers do nothing for them. They may cite his achievements are “not relatable” and don’t “speak to the streets”. I don’t think that is a totally true perspective—I think entertainment is more glamorous than politics, and requires less to appreciate. Also Rappers, for example, represent a counter cultural “Do what I gotta” image while the President—regardless of his color—is by definition “The Man”, “The Institution”, “The Authority” that they perceive as oppressive, repressive, and offensive to their goals.
I spoke online to your godfather, Danny, about how Wolf Blitzer is an idiot as he spouted statements like “I assume they have DNA evidence”. Why would you assume that? Journalists aren’t supposed to assume anything. The media today employ journalism so yellow it makes piss look like the white driven snow of the Klondike, I swear. Finally, the President gave his speech. It was under ten minutes. He thanked President Bush and his efforts, he told us “Justice has been served”, and the nation exploded. I asked Danny if he thought our celebrations in the street would be paralleled to the Anti-American Arab rejoicing in the streets just after 9/11. He didn’t want to admit that people could draw that parallel—but we both agreed that people are an amazing animal. It would not be 24 hours before the internet was weighted down with comments from all corners about how “we are no better”.
Let me make this plain and simple:
Rejoicing over the deaths of thousands of unsuspecting civilians in peace time via weaponized commuter airliner is a crime against humanity. It is an act of evil, not a protest. It is not a religious act it is a political one.
Rejoicing over the death of the plotter who manipulated religion to convince others to kamikaze themselves to perpetrate that act and hide for almost a decade as a coward is not a crime against humanity. It is a celebration of Justice. Osama Bin Laden should have, in perfect justice, been killed as thousands of times. His one death does not bring as much justice as it might, but it’ll have to do.
I continued to be awake through the night, working on my presentation and communicating through Facebook and Twitter about these happenings and watching and monitoring the rhetoric and the public’s reaction (and reacting a bit myself). I got into a particular thread on Facebook that I found to be troubling because it was, indeed, indicative of the conversation I had with Keith earlier. I was speaking with my friend Courtney about a posting he made insinuating that, not only was 9/11 an inside job but that the entirety of the government are puppets for the Illuminati. His assertion was that, as a people, we are constantly being duped, mislead, fooled, and herded towards some ultimate and nefarious purpose of shadowy silhouetted figures of mysterious political power and wealth.
I won’t delve too deeply into the subject of that debate but I must take a second to elucidate upon my particular stance on the Mason/Freemason/Illuminati conspiracy theory (in general). It would be an incredibly ineffective geopolitical secret society that allows movies, documentaries, and any other kind of base knowledge of its existence to proliferate to and through the masses. Some argue that this is due to hubris; they say that the secret society doesn’t care if the secret is out because they are unstoppable.
This reasoning is circular within a few decimals of pi: The society is secret, but everyone knows about it, it can afford not to be secret; nobody knows the real secret. Something doesn’t add up and I refuse to believe that at this point in my life I am missing any piece of vital information that can keep a secret society secret if everyone knows about it. I can only accept that the Illuminati conspiracy is a dummy or red herring for some other dubious geopolitical secret society, organization, or group that runs everything; but it logically begs the question “How different could the true puppeteers be than the ruse?” Not much, I assert.
Does this mean that I don't think that there are people behind the scenes that make things move and shake, whom we have very little or no knowledge of? That there aren’t people of great wealth, clout, influence, or incentive that can easily sway the course of might nations? No it does not. I just don’t think it is an ancient secret society that worships an extra dimensional shape and hides clues in everything from pop music to the one dollar bill like the Riddler. There are super-villains in this world, my son, and one of them just got a bullet through the head from an exquisitely trained Navy SEAL; I assure you he wasn’t leaving clues on purpose to be found. Those who wield such behind the scenes influence are most likely not part of any cult beyond business, rarely worship any abstraction beyond the bottom line, and don’t actually run for office themselves because it is easier to move a finger and watch the marionette dance than it is to dance yourself.
My debate with Courtney and his friend Antonio went on for an hour or so. Antonio had a different perspective that it didn’t matter if Bin Laden was dead because the system is only seeking to make complacent drones of the people—particularly those of minority or low socioeconomic status. This type of argument may or may not logically run into the Illuminati argument which Courtney was advocating. Antonio’s argument however has more teeth in the sense that there are many freedom limiting laws being ratified these days that are highly concerning, as well as a great deal of self-destructive legislative actions being conducted in, around, and unto the public education system. The short run of the argument boils down to: regardless of the veracity of their claims it doesn’t change the fact that justice has been served, Bin Laden had been shot, and its about fucking time.
Immediately following this Obama found himself teetering on an approval rating higher than it had been in over a year and a half. Not one to sit on his laurels he quickly began about debating whether or not to release the photos of a dead Bin Laden. Instead, so as to not rouse the terrorists against us, he only showed some top brass and high ranking Congressmen. Shortly thereafter Republicans started throwing their hats in the ring for the 2012 presidential election. Newt Gingrich returned from the abyss he had been tucked away in for the last 10 years while professional politicians like Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee weighed their options (Romney in Huckabee…seemingly not). Apparently they are ready to attack Obama on the economy—which they may have a shot at.
Then, out of nowhere, Obama decides to get in on the Israel/Palestine debate calling for a return to 1967 borders as a policy. What the fuck is that? As Benjamin Netenyahu would say the next day and in the following week those borders are impossible. They are indefensible from attack, they don’t account from the growth of the Israeli society in the past 40 years, and leaves the Israelis with no practical bargaining chips. Furthermore Bibi pointed out that since the Palestinian Authority (which is essentially Arafat’s Fatah) with an endorsement and backing from Hamas—a terrorist organization whose main pursuit is the destruction of Israel…destruction that is identified without recognizing the right of Israel to even exist in the first place.
Way to fuck up your polls. The Jewish community which overwhelmingly voted for Obama is not thrilled at this at all. Obama himself has had to do some back peddling and spinning of language. It was a bad move. The problem is that the Palestinian Authority is looking for recognition in the United Nations in September—which if they get it will make the PA lands a country and will make a territorial dispute in Israel into a war with a sovereign nation. It's a big problem with no apparent solution because Israel will not negotiate with the Palestinians so long as they are allied with Hamas; and they shouldn’t. The US doesn’t negotiate with terrorists or those who collude with them; we shouldn’t expect Israel to either. Furthermore we shouldn't expect them to do it when the terrorists live across the street, literally.
On that note, I can’t wrap this one up cleanly. Those were the big events of 2011. Bin Laden dead, Obama’s Israeli peace plan DOA. Sigh. Son, when you are 25 and I am 50 I can only hope that there is a place our people can call home. Even if I never want to live there, I’m damn sure I could, no questions asked. The Holocaust wasn’t that long ago and it could happen very quickly. I know this sounds awful conservative of me—but I never claimed to cling to one side or the other. My big personal issue is digging for consistency in my personal views and this issue is one of the big reasons because its seems that for Israel I feel one thing should happen…but I wonder if I’d feel the same for the United States to do it?
Until next time, my boy. I’m gonna be hanging out with you all summer!
Love,
Your Father
PS Since my last letter you have gone from kinda walking to really running, from making sounds to babbling with the intention of talking, you’ve grown many teeth, you’ve learned to climb, jump, and bounce. You are making a strong transition from baby to boy which is good because we’ve got another baby on the way. You’re gonna be a big brother, little man! Be a good one and “do nice” to the baby!
Oh, also I graduated from my Master’s Program. Thank God. And Eat Your Serial launched. Thank God. So I’m a Master, an entrepreneur, and a novelist. Also your Mommy and Me put a bid on a house—so we’re gonna have a house soon. Phew. Lets get busy! That’s not enough stuff yet!
Sunday, March 6, 2011
March 6th, 2011- Your First Birthday
March 6th, 2011
Dear Jeremy,
Happy First Birthday! I know I have much in the world of politics to talk with you about—in fact its been quite exciting politically all around the world. Egypt, Libya, and Jordan have been exploding with revolution and government dissolutions, the President called for a major consolidation of the Federal Government (then never spoke of it again), and New York City has been clamoring to do either illegal or immoral things in the public school system. But, for once, you know what? Forget all of that! It’s your first birthday! The world can stop spinning for one day!
Even though it’s my last semester in graduate school and I have been insanely busy with shit-loads of work I wouldn’t miss making a post on your birthday—let alone your first birthday—for all the Google hits in Bieberland. I just wanted to take a few moments to reflect on the past year of my life—also known as the first year of yours.
You are without a doubt the most amazing child that has ever graced this earth, Every day I look upon you and fall in love over and over again. Some days I wonder if you were real and I get depressed to wonder if you were merely a dream or figment of my imagination until I see you again. Every one who meets you remarks on how big you are, how smart you, how cute you are, and how good you are. It is a joy to take you into restaurants—especially when we see how your dirty rotten peers and elders act in eateries large and small.
That being said I would appreciate it if you would please do a few things for me as soon as possible.
1. Walk (but don't run)
2. Speak (but be polite)
3. Finish teething (but have better teeth than I do)
4. Sleep in your crib through the whole night (like you did before you started teething)
5. When sleeping in your crib throughout the whole night please don’t wet your diaper
6. Get potty trained
7. Get a job that pays more than Mommy’s and Daddy’s combined before your next birthday
If you do number 7 in the next week or so you can take your time on the rest of the list. Is that a deal?
Honestly, I cannot recall the void that was in my soul before you were born—I never imagined that there could be such a capacity for love, pride, and adoration inside of me. You have helped me to grow just as I hope to help you grow.
Over this past year I have watched the world that I have become jaded and cynical of through your eyes—fresh and new and full of hope and wonder—and it has only confirmed the reasons why I write you these letters. I want you to know what that world was as you wondered—with a little bit of spin from your Old Man of course! I want you to be able to look back when I’m 50 and you’re 25 and say “that's what the world was when I was a baby—this is what my Dad thought about it before he got the microchip in his cerebellum…wow he used to be pretty bad at spelling and math!”
Jeremy, my son, I love you more than a million Letters To Jeremy could ever express. Every day watching you is a wonderful affirmation of every good choice I’ve ever made in my life and karmic reward for every good deed. You are quite the show.
Today we are throwing you the most amazing first birthday party for grown-ups you’ll ever see. We’ll show you the pictures one day and you’ll ask us why we did it and we’ll tell you…something. Your Mother and I love you very much and we want to celebrate every milestone of your life in an extraordinary way.
On that note, I wish you only happiness and fulfillment in life and a very happy first birthday! (I’m hoping someone got you some comic books for Daddy, but I won’t hold my breath!) I cannot wait to see who you grow up to be—but rest assured I’ll be there when you get there with pride and love overflowing from my chest. Happy Birthday, son.
Love,
Your Father
P.S. Everyone has seen you take two or more steps but me. You refuse to walk for me—but I know you can! I’ve seen you cruising around. You weigh just over 20 pounds and you had your very first haircut on Friday. You were such a good boy! Even though you got a little cranky towards the end you didn’t cry and you weren’t scared. You’ve been mimicking us more and more and I’m sure you’ll be sprinting and debating in no time!
Dear Jeremy,
Happy First Birthday! I know I have much in the world of politics to talk with you about—in fact its been quite exciting politically all around the world. Egypt, Libya, and Jordan have been exploding with revolution and government dissolutions, the President called for a major consolidation of the Federal Government (then never spoke of it again), and New York City has been clamoring to do either illegal or immoral things in the public school system. But, for once, you know what? Forget all of that! It’s your first birthday! The world can stop spinning for one day!
Even though it’s my last semester in graduate school and I have been insanely busy with shit-loads of work I wouldn’t miss making a post on your birthday—let alone your first birthday—for all the Google hits in Bieberland. I just wanted to take a few moments to reflect on the past year of my life—also known as the first year of yours.
You are without a doubt the most amazing child that has ever graced this earth, Every day I look upon you and fall in love over and over again. Some days I wonder if you were real and I get depressed to wonder if you were merely a dream or figment of my imagination until I see you again. Every one who meets you remarks on how big you are, how smart you, how cute you are, and how good you are. It is a joy to take you into restaurants—especially when we see how your dirty rotten peers and elders act in eateries large and small.
That being said I would appreciate it if you would please do a few things for me as soon as possible.
1. Walk (but don't run)
2. Speak (but be polite)
3. Finish teething (but have better teeth than I do)
4. Sleep in your crib through the whole night (like you did before you started teething)
5. When sleeping in your crib throughout the whole night please don’t wet your diaper
6. Get potty trained
7. Get a job that pays more than Mommy’s and Daddy’s combined before your next birthday
If you do number 7 in the next week or so you can take your time on the rest of the list. Is that a deal?
Honestly, I cannot recall the void that was in my soul before you were born—I never imagined that there could be such a capacity for love, pride, and adoration inside of me. You have helped me to grow just as I hope to help you grow.
Over this past year I have watched the world that I have become jaded and cynical of through your eyes—fresh and new and full of hope and wonder—and it has only confirmed the reasons why I write you these letters. I want you to know what that world was as you wondered—with a little bit of spin from your Old Man of course! I want you to be able to look back when I’m 50 and you’re 25 and say “that's what the world was when I was a baby—this is what my Dad thought about it before he got the microchip in his cerebellum…wow he used to be pretty bad at spelling and math!”
Jeremy, my son, I love you more than a million Letters To Jeremy could ever express. Every day watching you is a wonderful affirmation of every good choice I’ve ever made in my life and karmic reward for every good deed. You are quite the show.
Today we are throwing you the most amazing first birthday party for grown-ups you’ll ever see. We’ll show you the pictures one day and you’ll ask us why we did it and we’ll tell you…something. Your Mother and I love you very much and we want to celebrate every milestone of your life in an extraordinary way.
On that note, I wish you only happiness and fulfillment in life and a very happy first birthday! (I’m hoping someone got you some comic books for Daddy, but I won’t hold my breath!) I cannot wait to see who you grow up to be—but rest assured I’ll be there when you get there with pride and love overflowing from my chest. Happy Birthday, son.
Love,
Your Father
P.S. Everyone has seen you take two or more steps but me. You refuse to walk for me—but I know you can! I’ve seen you cruising around. You weigh just over 20 pounds and you had your very first haircut on Friday. You were such a good boy! Even though you got a little cranky towards the end you didn’t cry and you weren’t scared. You’ve been mimicking us more and more and I’m sure you’ll be sprinting and debating in no time!
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