Speaking Truth to Power

Have you ever brought great success on a healthy and sustainable diet?

But you don’t do the grocery shopping and you certainly do not run the kitchen.

Eventually my wife will come around. Some day my wife will listen to me. I will no longer have to compromise on my dietary ideals.

There is a whole lot of truth being spoken to power concerning diet, and health, via YouTube. The media aspect of these health practitioners becomes a whole new profession in and of itself in many cases.

But on a more personal level, I have never shown any hesitation to speak truth to power. I do not consider myself a trouble maker, perhaps a thorn in people’s side, but never malicious in my portrayals.

I am not going to lay out the bigotry I experienced in my chosen profession, Architecture, here. You can research back into some of my blogs if you are interested.

I write in good faith, from a point where the lack of ethics are irrefutable and known clearly, at least to some.

I have never looked to profit from any misdeeds people may have committed against me.

Rather than repent, a religious concept, or simply relent when challenged on their values people of position may claim, “You have burned your bridges.”

No bridges burned. Not with anyone I would want to work with.

So… in order to speak truth to power, to be a moral voice one needs to be a religious?

Or should a religious turn the other cheek, never speaking out?

Writers, and fiction writers can speak, or rather write, truth to power, but mostly in fields akin to journalism, are they the only ones allowed to set the moral compass for a society?

The irony here being journalists are some of the most immoral and unethical influencers in modern society.

Religion is not something to bring into the office. It is something to be done on your own time, so society claims.

Your own time?

All my time is my own time.

The problem with society today is people cannot be whole beings. They must segregate their lives into compartments, none allowed to overlap with the other.

This is a generalization, but it holds water. Whatever one’s profession they should feel a moral imperative to uphold the values they hold dear; values arising from faith and family.

One’s values should be organic, not bestowed upon another by self proclaimed overseers.

I often think about my propensity to speak truth to power, a practice often judged to be in poor taste. A propensity I feel is essential to maintain in working for a moral society.

Is my choice in my present circumstance to be either a writer or to shut my mouth? Bind my fingers from typing?

My life is far more expansive than simply being a writer, and it is going to stay that way. And if people I am involved with are out of line, I will let them know; respectfully and in good time.

You need to understand what life is about and start living it people.

I love to write.


Thanks for reading.

Tales of the Glories of the Christmases Long Long Ago

Not to mention those scary ghost stories.

The dark, the Winter solstice, a time for stories; ghost stories in ancient pagan traditions. Tell stories; I guess that is what we all did before television; and what about before radios and recorded music?

What has life become? What makes life and traditions?

So few are connected to the simple practices of what it takes to live; to simply survive. And to the telling of stories of how we have arrived to the place we are.

How many stories does one read devoid of any such traditions or backgrounds in the life or world of a character?

Hence the popularity of all those hallmark Christmas movies. There must be hundreds and more being made all the time. We just watched a new one on Christmas Eve, after delivering gifts to family.

It is about a common history, what makes us who we are. It is about the larger context, where we fit in or not and why. Concepts lost in our modern society.

These trends have translate into novels of dystopia, societies void of liberty.

How shallow are the societies of most all science fiction? No holidays, no traditions or days of commemoration. An example would be my current favorite science fiction series: “The Expanse.”

How many stages of expansion into space should be recognized and commemorated in perceived perpetuity? We have Thanksgiving here in the United States. We honor figures such as George Washington, crucial in the birth of our nation.

Nothing, no one to commemorate, it all just happens. So much personal drama, all about oneself.

Don’t get me started on music. Late on Christmas Eve, I was searching for religious services on TV, eventually finding Christmas mass from the Vatican, when I came across an infomercial for a soft rock collection.

It brought to light how void todays music is of truly meaningful lyrics. The hair bands were the last hoorah for great music; lyrics insightfully reflective of what makes us human.

Imagine Dragons; they have significant lyrics but are they too preachy? Every artist has there moment. My wife likes One Republic. Personally I believe The Band Perry has the most consistent meaningful and organic lyrics, more than any other contemporary group I know of.

I do not know if Imagine Dragons ever made a Christmas song.

I watched “The Kids are Alright” a while back; about The Who. The Who is the definition of Rock n’ Roll. I really appreciate their music these days and was happy I could get to one of their concerts recently.

It also reminded me why I disliked them so when I was a youth; their total irreverence and destruction of property.

Any who, watching Keith Moon play the drums was a great joy, unbelievable. We all lose something when we do not allow or recognize people to be the best in whatever they are doing.

Competition, another element in life not found enough in society these days, or in novels. What people strive for defines… or are we to simply exist in some empty void.

Of course the true Christmas songs are full of meaning and a reminder of all it took for mankind to get where we are today, through God’s Gift and Grace.

Merry Christmas. Tis the season.

I hope you enjoy my reflections and you find them instructional, especially if you are a writer, aspiring or otherwise.

It is not about you, it is about the lives God created us to live.

Thank you for reading.

Charge!

No, I am not referring to Black Friday.

The continuous checking off of goals, including writing goals, uplifts the spirit, instigates even more accomplishments.

I do that by breaking my goals down into a series of many small goals for any particular day.

Time to write the annual Christmas letter, and that is no fiction.

Things are getting very busy. Though we currently do not have any microgreens on the shelf, that is only to allow me to get some work done on our basement facilities. To organize and systematize is the goal.

The decision to make is whether to go with independent contractors or a publisher to refine my stories, which are fiction.

Or are they?

Success in my writing through any means means, means, means… Means we can give up the flower business. Farmer’s markets would be restricted to Saturdays, and I will otherwise be working where I stand; where I build my dreams.

I hope you all had a Happy Thanksgiving and have a Merry Christmas.

Thanks for reading. I know everyone is very busy this time of year.

Resolutions

I know what you are thinking, “It’s not the New Year. What? Are you some kind of stupid Phillip?”

I had taken on three times the work I had intended in my microgreens business this Summer and the markets are starting to close down.

The renovations that our tyrannical city demands that I make on our home, can only be fulfilled within ever shrinking windows of appropriate weather.

My available time is opening up just in time for hunting season but I don’t have any plans to go hunting.

A perfect time for resolutions.

The stress and lack of sleep, courtesy of my Alderman, have sent my blood sugars flying for some time now.

Time to commit to some serious exercise and a necessary sleep regiment.

And time to contemplate an emersion plan into my writing.

I am already back into my Master Classes. Their focus is creativity and they have a large selection of classes on writing.

My mind is favoring towards poetry and Master Class has a new poetry class. Perhaps those high blood sugars have demented my brain.

I need more practical resolutions. I am not fulfilling all I intend, all I have stated.

I disappoint myself and others. I need to focus on the immediate and work on my hopes and dreams quietly.

I have dreamed of someday being rich enough to grace our kitchen table with a large variety of hot sauces.

I made a step towards fulfilling that dream when we went to an Aldi grand opening today and I picked up a bottle of Frank’s Hot Sauce. It has no added sugar. My inability to deal with sugar, sorry sweetheart, has limited my options in hot sauce compilation completeness.

In my defense I have kept posts on this blog on a basic schedule.

Solitude, outside of Thanksgiving and Christmas, and the north woods call to me this time of year.

This is notable the most productive time of year for me in regards to improvement to our home, shelter.

It is a time of year in which I have little patience to tolerate fools.

Perhaps an ancestral influence plays a role in the tides of my life. Generations after generations preparing for Winter have shaped my spirit, informed my DNA.

The sins of the fathers, as they say, but hopefully mostly the good.

Do you know what is great about winter? Getting back into a warm cozy home, under a comforter with a warm mug in hand. A fireplace makes it all the better.

Is that what a TV has become? The hearth, the fireplace, the open flame around which so many of our ancestors gathered. We get the flickering light and a host of fake characters inviting us to take part in their fictitious families of blood, law enforcement or some other bond.

Or you could go out bowling and have to deal with real people.

The horror.

Happy Halloween.

Thanks for reading.

Dialogue

I was complimented on my dialogue, or rather conversation amongst characters, on a review for one of my books.

When I was young there was no texting, e-mails or even phones that were not tied to a wire. Passing notes was for elementary school students and though conversations on the telephone were often verbally and grammatically challenged, in person conversation was a completely different matter.

Witticisms, puns, the clever insight and the ability to express a coherent political position were well practiced. An extensive vocabulary impressed and acronyms represented a thought or institute of substance; not how much laughter a vapid mundane spewing of thoughtlessness may have instilled.

Yes, instilled, not inspired, as inspiration would imply the pursuit of some thought greater than one’s own.

How a person speaks to others is very telling of not only their education but of their character or lack there of. It may be driven by deep seeded issues of the past or more immediate situational stresses.

Dialogue is a great method for developing a character, but it needs to be consistent. It need not necessarily be described, but allowed to speak for itself.

Some of my short stories have little to no conversation.

In my novella the characters are few and the environment stressed. Describing one character’s commentary as having the ability to annoy (anyone) I felt was a necessary distinction.

So I was at my market stand the other day, you can find One Family Urban Gardens on Facebook, and I walked up to a guy who helps out a vendor here and there.

“How is the man of the wire?” I asked.

He is an electrician by trade and I enjoy the looks on his face when I razz him a bit.

“The way of the wire is long and narrow.’' I mused, “Shorter for some, wider for others…. The way of the wire is the way of power.”

A pained smile covered his face. He lowered and shook his head with a chuckle.

At least I didn’t call him ‘Sparky’.

Packing up my market stand I found my side view mirrors turned in. I didn’t recall any vehicles passing too close as they left the market, one farm truck is notorious for hitting other vehicles, so I am confused as to what happened.

One mirror actually wasn’t even accessible to vehicular traffic.

Find the way my friends.

You can make good money as an electrician, or in any of the building trades.

Should I keep writing?

I hear ya!

I hope you found my look into the past and my scant ideas on dialogue helpful, if you are trying to be a published writer yourself.

Thank you for reading.