Alass, poor Moochie, I knew him well.
Today's earlier post revealed a flaw in the stipulated agreement between myself and the wonderful folks at Townhall.com. In order to benefit from free publication of my blog here I will not be able to self identify using the more common, slang, pejorative term for mule. The owners and administrators have in place filters that prohibit the use of that three letter word, as well as presumable more, which may be considered as vulgar, or at least unacceptable in this forum. I respect their policy. After all, the word is just crass.
Still I must choose between the huge prickly horns of this dilemma carefully because I do not personally think the word is offensive, even referring to myself, and my rights end where theirs begin. Therefore Scaramouche will be no more and the new and more liberated Parvisimus, The Diving Mule will premiere at http://parvisimus.blogspot.com/
I will leave this site up, if possible, fow a few days before attempting to have it deleted.

Something fishy in my family tree, and that something fishy turned out to be me.                            Papa was a jack-as-, Mama was a mare; I was different from all the rest, but I didn’t really care. Poetry of life; sweet in the beginning, bitter in the end. Potential that never came to ought but ashes in the wind. Scaramouche never fit in well with family for whatever reason. It suited him better then and now to remain apart. Bred and reared in a small delta town with directions to nowhere; too little ambition and his only sense was a sense of humor. You know, like in Las Vegas - do the gamblers refer to the dominant wager as the alpha-bet? Sure, it’s lagging, but it’ll pick back up directly.  Surrounded then and now with uncles and aunts; cousins by the score and never closer than polite conversation, polite but nothing more. Married to a woman who had been another man’s wife. Picked by her to raise an adopted son who always fit closer than any natural family on father’s or mother’s side. Except on rare occasions alone again in this body, this room, this life. Sure it could have been different, but it also could have been worse. So much to be grateful for; enough for a whole ‘nother verse.               

      To say that my family came from humble beginnings; to say that they were country personified would be the coup de gras of all understatements ever made. It’s like this:  Uncle Henry and Aunt Vera lived so far back in the woods that there was only a small path to their door. When Vera died of the fever, Henry just placed her body on the compost heap out back of the house. Time and energy combined with organic matter merged Vera’s body with all that was added from that point on. We figured it was similar to having her cremated ashes spread on a field of daiseys when Henry distributed the remains on the flower beds and planters around the house…and we always thought of Auntie when the flowers bloomed so beautifully in spring…and we would always say thank you…..         

           Thank you Vera mulch.                                  

Was that the decay of the hay or the stool of the mule? Riding leisurely along a newly built bike trail (yes, you can teach a mule to ride a bike), and having been raised twixt and tween, being neither wholly a city mule nor a country mule, the pungent odor of freshly spread hay caught my olfactory by the boo-boo. Dispersed as it was, to prevent erosion on newly graded banks, the hay’s odor permeated the air surrounding the trail completely. For lack of agrarian knowledge I could not discern if the scent rose due to natural curing of the harvested and baled hay, or whether there had been left behinds from the…behinds of grazing animals in the blend. Regardless, the brief reminiscences were as familiar as they were inconclusive.

Those who would decline to say what it is that they want have their reasons. How can their desires or motives be impugned if they are not stated; but, left to speculation they can possibly be denied or manipulated at a later date. Interactivity becomes mandatory for an audience to be able to witness the performance. Inevitability is deferred to the casual observer; not so much for the veteran. Rudiments come easily; mastery comes never at all to some, as it employs talent as well as practice. Scaramouche, being a novice, lacks the grace of the artful stoic, yet has felt the sting of incorrect assumption like the snap of a rein on his back Hence his recalcitrance. He does not seek the entrance to the china shop, but, placed inside, the results are hardly indistinguishable from that of the bull. A mule, after all, cannot propagate, therefore he becomes his own conclusion.

"Scaramouche, why you laughing so hard?"
"I just caught a glimpse of the biggest fool I've ever seen."
"Where did you see this fool?"
"Over there in that mirror."
If a man believes in a God, his God, then he is tempted to make a pact with his God. Will You reveal what You want? I will try to do what You want. If I try with all of my might, should I have any expectations? Many believe that their deal is sealed. Many also have equal certitude as to the fate of the remainder of mankind; past, present, and future. So what's left? Aim for the mark, but be ye always certain that, though your aim should falter, your redemption is bought and paid for. Sure, but what can the unbeliever...believe? As my dear friend told me, "when you're dead, you're dead."
Proof flourishes in every corner of the world that mortals have always sought immortality. Achievements, monuments, and children testify to man's quest to be something more than the sum of flesh and bone and accomplishment during the brief flicker before his light is extinguished. That's what makes the world go around; the difference in belief, the struggle to survive, to subdue, to emerge as victor. God, very clearly and expressly, is not of the world. What then?
Don't take history into consideration, nor the entirety of humankind on the planet. Take a single day in which babies are still born or killed in the womb, while other babies are born healthy into loving and secure surroundings. Take a day where men, women, and children experience more different circumstances that stars in the sky. Where there's pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, justice and injustice, life and death. If, during that day, a man professes to know the mind of God in the scheme of eternity, count him as wrong. It is not given to man to know the mind of God.
Same goes for a mule.
 

Which leads to more a swifter and more accurate conclusion, certainty or doubt? In a field of endeavor as lofty and yet idyllic as science we seek answers, but as the Zen master quipped, "who tells you there is an answer?". Does the preponderance of scientific (which is it; knowledge or fact) rest on consensus or does it require unanimity? Are they the same? Which stands the test of time? How long a time? When is a fact born which ceases to be tested, postulated, searched to verify that it is without refutation? Let's take a slash shall we?
A chicken little no less than the inventor of the internet has made claim that the sky is falling warming. More precisely what he retroactively names is now referred to as "climate change". Girded with cinematic declarations, which amount to nothing more, he also claims to have the grail of scientific consensus. It is very nice. He, by no means, has achieved unanimous acclamation and agreement. While he and his detractors hurl invectives back and forth and lay claim to a "more correct” presentation for current humanity, let us consider... Have there ever been fluctuations in measurable climactic conditions since (even before) accurate measures were taken? Are we, or can we be, dead certain as to the causes of these fluctuations? If there are more than one, how many did mankind cause or manipulate? How many of you know of a weatherman, meteorologist, climatologist, who can predict the conditions just within your community with 100% accuracy for three weeks from this Tuesday?
Following the hurricane known as Katrina, leading weather prognosticators from around the world, the very elite of the entire globe among science, predicted that the following year would have even more storms of equal or greater ferocity and tempestuousness. Failing that, the predictions were renewed for the very stinking year in which, now, evident even to an imbecile with a wet finger in the wind, they are disastrously and unquestionably WRONG! Are these esteemed scientists among the consensus holders regarding what the consequences of our present lifestyles will have on the next century's climate? Pardon; Scaramouche had to wipe a small tear from his eye. What of the Hand of God? Even the bamboozling charlatans who own and run insurance companies designate certain events as "acts of God". Without doubt, agnostics, atheists and those of their ilk demand that such clauses and protections be removed from their policies. One cannot exist without the other. Respecting the divergence of thought though, earthquakes, tsunamis, hurricanes, volcanoes, and your other odd weather phenomena are a reality, as of yet to be charged to or proven to be of human cause. Is this a "random universe to which we bring meaning"? (credit Sheldon Kopp's Eschatological Laundry List) Do we really have the power to define a globular climactic standard and enforce what it should be? You could believe that; you could grow up to be a mule too. Or would you like to swing on a star?

 

To know what is right and not to do it is the worst cowardice.
Author: Confucius

Degree and duration are the colors of perception. "I am hungry" is like the page of a coloring book not yet touched by a child's imagination. "I haven't had any food in four days" has a vibrance that emotes empathy from even one who has not experienced the condition. So too, are the degrees and durations that color opinions of cowardice. There are the yellows of retreat from threat, the whites of allowing unnoticed wrongs to go unpronounced and unpunished, the green of jealousy, the black of hatred and as many hues and shades as within the spectrum. One cowardly act may, or may not, a coward define. A lifetime of  betrayals of belief, of others, and, of self through unwillingness to do what is right asks for no further definition. Scaramouche could write all day and into the night and never reveal what inner tortures have taken place, as this mule believes that the worst cowardice is that concluding in self condemnation and refusal to accept forgiveness from God, man, or self. Man or mule can suffer greater from pain wrought by self than that created by the machinations and imaginations of any oppressor.

Can there be redemption? The reply to that resides in each individual who would ponder a while and arrive at their own determination. “With God all things are possible”; so Scaramouche has to choose belief in the wisdom and mercy of his Creator… and wait. .... til that dark hour when it becomes necessary to exact the ultimate punishment against the object of his only hatred.

All history is a record of the power of minorities, and of minorities of one.
Author: Ralph Waldo Emerson

More that a hundred comments attended the article I read today about pending legislation (having Passed in the House of Representatives) to "protect" the rights of homosexuals in the workplace. The ACT, H.R. 3685, referred to as "ENDA", for Employment Non-Discrimination Act,  covers hiring, harassment, firing, and any additional behavior which might be considered to "victimize"  or injure the designated party. Other that a few provocateurs attempting to inflame or distort the conversation with emotion, NOT ONE brought out what grasped me at the end. This is ultimately about the minority, not the sexual orientation of a particular percentage of the population. Several minorities were mentioned; race, disability, ethnicity, religion age, gender, and of course orientation of varying degree. Let old Scaramouche tell you; if you can achieve that coveted designation, your opportunity for redress against offense, real or imagined, is enhanced.That the legislation portends for our system of government, from the altruism (or more precisely, pandering) of the congress, to the courts, and right down the ladder to the enforcers, to afford protection of an intended group elicits a question...or two. At what size does a minority become entitled to "special" laws that govern their treatment as separated from the general laws and the general population? Where is the threshold of grievance upon which the "special" law becomes necessary? Certainly the weakling on the playground, when he (or she) cries that "he beat me up* please refer to previous caveat for feminists)  deserves the full force and protection of "the law". Now think for a few moments. How many identifiable minorities can you envision...in just a brief few moments? How should the term minority be applied? Must it be limited to a national scale, a percentage of total population? Are there regional minorities deserving of less that their more numeric cousins under "the law"? Do some minorities exist only within as confined a geography as a community who would be excluded from recognition? Specifically, are there individuals who, in the majority nationally, find themselves and their peers as minority in a state or municipality? Are there any minorities NOT deserving special adjudication due to their nature? What of potential conflict between existing law and exigencies of the future? Our society has stretched so far as to determine that civility dictates the intent of an act be judged, and in the implied intent of hate, that it be judged more harshly and with greater punishment that that of a "benignly intentioned"  criminal act. There's murder (degrees 1st, 2nd, and 3rd), and then there's HATE murder, much more heinous than the other. Should you incite another, or a group, you could share the guilt, or your guilt could far surpass the actual transgressors. What other thoughts or emotions shall we, as a civilized people, discern to be of sufficient grievance that a court or a judge will be given authority to divine their presence and liability to an attendant crime and for how long will we continue representatives of specific minorities to solicit a specified severity for the very presence of the thought or emotion?
To a mule's mind, this is all wrong. If someone threatens, or attacks you; defend yourself. If you cannot, seek help. If someone offends you, do not count it as an injury, most especially one deserving of recompense. Go about your business. If you molested another, you are no less guilty than a molester with unspeakable lust within their heart. If you murder with hatred, you are not more guilty than someone who murders without a discriminate reason. Until the matter is subject to more common sense and clarity, to paraphrase the Godfather, keep your lawyer close, and your lawmaker closer. Can a mule get a little protection over here?  I think some of these readers are antimuleites.

Seems more and more that Jobs and the economy are tied to immigration like stank to a pole cat. Have any memory of the days of honor when a gentleman's agreement was sealed with a handshake? Being presently unemployed and roughly involved in "the search", my amazement is constant at the sheer volume of personal information businesses would have of you, the repetition with which they demand said info on each and every separate page (due possibly to an inability of present employees to look back and find the first three times you listed your social security number), and the preemptive agreements you are required to sign, basically relinquishing all legal rights to recriminations and impartial hearing of grievances by a jury or even a judge before you have ever seen an actual person and before they have laid eyes on you. Could it be that as corporations grow (and realize that their shoddy treatment of people grows the lawsuits against them exponentially) they would prefer to remove the "personal interaction" from the hiring process? That's the ticket; advertise a position with a carefully worded description; read through carefully worded descriptions of supposed humans interested in forming a business relationship with said corporation; let nameless faceless individuals working for some outsourced human relations firm make determinations based on ridiculous questionnaires and psychological profiles; and makea "tentative" offer of employment all without ever having seen an actual person. An ever increasing portion of "us" would totally eliminate the human portion of the money making equation if possible. With the voluminous amounts of information demanded for even a menial job, how do so many undocumented workers have so little trouble securing that which eludes a highly documented steed such as myself?  Willful deception on the part of employers. Profiling may not be legal, but it can and is efficiently engaged in as long as discretion is maintained. So, while continuing to wince and bear the phenomenal scrutiny necessary to qualify as a candidate, Scaramouche presses on.
Caveat for feminists. Scaramouche admires and respects the achievements, sacrifices, and potential (past, present, and future) of women, and means no disrespect in failing on occasion to refer to the duality of gender, men AND women, or the generic people and persons. Economy of expression is my only mea culpa.

Our government is the potent, the omnipresent teacher. For good or for ill, it teaches the whole people by its example. Crime is contagious. If the government becomes a law-breaker, it breeds contempt for law; it invites every man to become a law unto himself; it invites anarchy.
Author: Louis D. Brandeis

The United States is a nation of laws: badly written and randomly enforced.
Author: Frank Zappa

Settle for a single quote for such a sumptuous subject as law; are you mad? From noteworthy beginnings such as the Code of Hammurabi, to the Bible (not withstanding that the Bible also purported to reveal the law of God), all the way to the U.S. constitution men have entertained ways to exact proper conduct from their contemporaries. Proper, that is, as judged by men.  Other than the Divine, which  Scaramouche attempts to intuit and acquiesce, the laws of man tragically line that  well known road  and the intentions with which it is paved.  One of the very few  positive things learned from my father was that all wars were fought over boundaries (property lines) and, to phrase it charitably, women. Entertain, if you will, the notion of boundaries and the concept of sovereignty as applicable to nations and to law. Consider if you will the enormous popularity of the expression "rule of law". Mules aren't educated enough to know the origins of such phrases, and their laziness, which would preclude the proper research, is legendary. Still, what a marvelous shibboleth for a nation as grand as the United States of America to self apply. We are a nation under the rule of law. Makes you shiver with self-righteousness, doesn't it? Always in a melting pot such as ours however, there exists that pesky problem of identifying which are "us" and which are "them". Conumdrums of this nature are not dealt with lightly in today's society. There are simply too many competing interests with voices given varying volume and significance by the holders of the microphone or pen. It should be times like this when we are obliged to rest securely in the law. HA!  The lawmakers, the law enforcers and the law breakers are indistinguishable one from another.  So, our "leaders" bid us to endure while such a matter is settled, ignoring the voices of the masses, and ignoring the continuing trespass of the law all the while. The last sentence of Justice Brandeis' quote sums the matter with sufficiency which silently begs for an alternative. Suggestions anyone? Men who fail to make the hard decisions may not survive to make the easy ones.

This Date In History (or so I'm told)

1869 - The first intercollegiate football game was played -- in New Brunswick, New Jersey. Rutgers beat Princeton 6-4, with each team fielding 25 men, though not all at once.

When it comes to superfluity of thought or word, Scaramouche is as prone as the next mule to prattle. As for originality, he defers, as there is "no new thing under the sun".
With regards to love, many suspect that it is conferred. Neither earned nor purchased, still, it may possibly be won. Which brings us to competition. Is there such a thing as "human nature"? Much of the time that which is considered as human is not also thought of as natural, but competition is. Bred within every living beast, and indeed plant, is the instinct to survive, and earthly states being what they are, that involves competition for food, air, water, sunshine, and then, of course, the accoutrements. Viva Charles Darwin! Naturally extended, that spirit evolves past survival to choice, want, desire. In order to establish dominance, we must compete. Along with the necessity comes the pleasure, for who, having experienced the agony of defeat, would enter the ring if not for some innate sense of satisfaction at the striving.
That said, today is a day of election to political office. Whether a product of altruism or greed; whether indeed men are created equal, there come forth those who would seek to officiate over the affairs and lives of their fellow man caused by a belief in a knowledge of "what's best" or better at least for their fellow citizenry. Do they serve; do they represent, or do they merrily line their pockets with the ill-gotten proceeds of the efforts of the represented? You know. Scaramouche rarely claims to have an answer and carefully scrutinizes, nay fears any who would claim to present truth, for truth is illusive and, like beauty, resides within the eye of the beholder.  Evident or not, even a mule goes forth with assiduous intent in doing what is right. And so, the ballot will be cast, as in all matters great and small, with insufficient knowledge, but hopefully directed by the wisdom of his master. You should vote also. You should exercise obeisance to your duty, your conscience, and your master. History and time will tell if there was a reward.

The cowardly mule has a little education, a very little talent, an aspiration to become a servant, and a destiny to remain as a child until once more dust. To speak of the mule's fault is not to ascribe or describe defect or abnormality, yet rather to impute a function of judgment. The mule made me do it.
A specific culture of life will not be defined here, rather an approach to being in a world filled with others. A preferred approach to those others and a desired reciprocity would be best phrased by the French - laissez-faire. Limited bilities should be applied such as responsibility and accountability. Beyond this, life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness are all reasonable and pertinent to the subject of rights. Inalienable or not they refer to rights of property, self defense and self determination. One should also have the right to fail. Apart from that short list, I remain a golden rule mule with an unshakable faith and personal relationship with my lord.
Though the mule has contempt for most, it is mostly due to a disagreement of logic and perceived reality and does not spring from belief in inherent  disdain for mankind. Some of my best friends are people.
Crude and awkward are my first steps into this new adventure. Whether you believe in predestination or a random universe, you are welcomed to see where these steps lead.