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We Are Not a Republic anymore, a republic implies that the government is to listen to the will of the people.  We Are a Socialistic Nation. Or you could argue that we are an Oligarchy, but I think it is easier to understand Skewed Socialism.

So today I would like to look at two of our Skewed Socialism Programs.   

I thought of this because a person posted that they demand we pay for college, and I wanted to attack them, but then I realized, what good what that do? And why should I bully someone for having a different opinion than me?

But I did think: Why is it that we demand for Free Healthcare and Free school…But never demand for free healthy food and free vitamins?   And for that matter: Why don’t we ever demand for: Freedom of controlling our own bodies? (Sometimes we do, but for every step we take toward owning our own body, we take a step back.  And when I say: Own our own bodies, I mean exactly that, not any abstract philosophical argument over production from our body.  I mean the right what to put in or NOT put in our bodies) 

Back to the Skewed Socialism in America which consist of the government blackmailing us and already rich companies getting richer at the Taxpayers expense. 



 
 
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So once again I am in the hot seat for advocating not Spanking Children.  At this point it isn't a surprise, I usually roll my eyes, say something sarcastic, and move on.  This time I was told that I am killing children for not spanking children.  While I could take time out of my busy schedule to address this issue, and though I am very intrigued to know how he comes to this conclusion,( I am sure it is about gang bangers or war, or something,) I am just too darn tired today.   I instead thought I would post Stefan Molyneux and post it here, as I am sure my little troll will see this.  :)  Cheers.
     <<<<Just found this picture in the public domain under child abuse.  I thought: Hmmm...indeed, how sad that we are against a woman being mutilated, but we routinely cut a boys penis.  Below I will have a video from Stefan Molyneux on spanking children, and I thought I would also share a Video  Adam Ruins: The real reason you are circumcised.    As always, have a lovely day!!!!  XOXOX Elicia

 
 
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Censorship: adj. of Censor.

Censor: Person who examines printed matter, movies, news, etc. (Science Papers), to SUPPRESS any parts on the grounds of obscenity, security, etc.  Verb: the act as a censor of.  Make deletions or changes in.

Adjective: A word used to modify or describe a noun or pronoun

Suffix –ship: A native English suffix of nouns denoting condition, character, office, skill

To summarize: A Censor, censors papers, leaving readers with holes, suppressed information, all in the name of security and protecting the feeble minded masses from such heinous things as knowledge and curse words and of course sex scenes. 




 
 
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Can you feel it?  The change is palpable.  We strike now or lose our chance at a free humanity forever. (Well this isn't true, as long as there is at least One Human breathing that can say: Yes, We deserve to have Freedom...we can win)  I am going to be rebuilding this site, yet again, in order to retain my right to have freedom of expression.  As they say: Be the change. 

 
 
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Will they bring back the Lobotomy?  Silly question you may think, but there are some things happening that make me believe they might.  Why?  Like anything that might be a P.R. nightmare, if not launched properly, Lobotomy can, under the right lighting, be seen as something necessary, and we, the fine people of the United States, may be walking back into this trap.  What is the trap: Killing part of your brain so you don’t have to feel.   (Please click read more, or you can listen to it on YouTube)



 
 
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Have you ever had a day filled with problems only to realize that if the problems didn't happen, you might be dead?
     Picture it.  I am younger, 23 or 24, and I am working all the time.  I have a job that I tend to come in a few minutes early for and leave a few minutes late, and I don't take breaks.  Not a problem, normally, until this place is put on notice that they have to pay overtime if someone goes over 40 hours a week.  It normally added up to only about 5 hours extra a check, but it was good for me because it allowed me to get Deavan little extras.  Needless to say I was called into the office one day and sent home that Friday, 5 hours early and told I couldn't do that anymore.  I must say I was very upset, crying on the inside, but I complied and left early.  I got into my car and sighed, but thought, hey, I have some time to myself.  WOW.  I decide I will get some food. 
     I have to go a different way home to get this food. 
     This is the important part.
     As I pull into the place I am going to get food, my Steering Column breaks.  I cannot steer my car.  I am lucky that I am almost stationary because I can easily put on the brake and call a tow-truck...Which was even MORE money.
     At first I am a bit angry, my luck seems so bad, but then I start thinking.  As I am waiting for a tow-truck to pay the 50.00, I don't have, and just lost from work as well, I calculate the miles I have driven.   I also envision where I would be if I had left work at my normal time which would not allow me to stop and get some food.
     IF I had not been let off work early, I would have been on the highway, about 1 mile from my exit.  This stretch of land has a huge curve, and in theory, I could have been turning my wheel at 65 m.p.h. when my steering column went out.  I would have smashed into the bridge, or flown off the side of the road and smashed into cement barricades.  After figuring this out, I was so emotional I had a friend drive with me to confirm the calculations.  I was right.  I would have been on the turn when the steering wheel went out.
     In the end, did this save my life?  I can't be sure, but I think it did or at least prevented me from a horrific accident.  After that I saw life a little bit differently.  I didn't instantly get mad over "bad luck" because I started to think that sometimes, bad luck happens to prevent something even worse. 
     Thanks for stopping by!!!  I shall catch you on the FLIP SIDE.  xoxox  Elicia

 
 
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If you read my books, you may be familiar with the scene, only difference, it is not dramatized and it ends in peace.
     Scene: Elicia, age 15, sophomore year.
     I know you may not realize this, but I am a big girl.  I am 5'8" and at the time weighed about 138.  I was also strong, am strong.  This may not seem tall now, what with models everywhere, but it was tall, add into the fact that I walk strong and full of confidence.
    Story:  I walk into the girls bathroom at lunchtime.  It is full of girls doing the normal societal circle when a fight is about to begin.  I am still surprised that I didn't hear the all too familiar chant: "Fight, Fight, Fight."
 A girl, sophomore, was very tiny, a cute little blonde girl of about 5 feet and weighing no more than 80 pounds.  She is crying as another girl, about 5'5" weighing, I would guess, 120 is being prompted by other bullies to beat the girl to teach her a lesson.  The girl's supposed crime: calling the other girl a slut.  While I don't know if this is true, it didn't matter.  What mattered was a child, in my eyes, even though we were the same age, was crying and scared and ALONE.  (I hate when someone is scared and alone)
     I step into the middle of it all, like a superstar I might add, and say, "What is going on?"
     The bully, who I don't think really wanted to be a bully, but had fallen prey to her "crew" said:  "She called me a slut."
     I turned to the little girl, she profusely denied it, but again, it didn't matter, words hurt, yes, but this was really scary.  She was surrounded by no less than 30 girls and about to take a beating.  (I ask: have you ever been beaten so badly you ended up in the hospital, if not, please refrain from psychobabble and lasting scars)
     I said that the girl didn't say it, the bully argued, her friends egged her on, and as she was about to charge, and after she let me know that it didn't concern me, I had no other choice.  I said: "Well I called you a slut too, and I am sure this girl got it from me, so I guess your fight is with me."
     The little girl stopped crying, the room went silent.  This was it.  The girl had to make a decision.  She knew me, knew of me, and her friends did what was right, finally, and they said this was stupid, and they walked away.
     Not as glamours as my stories portray it, but it was something.  The little girl nearly collapsed into a ball of thankfulness and the bully herself was happy.  (She didn't want to fight, she didn't want to hurt someone, and was simply caught up in the all to familiar trap of peer pressure, she told me this later in the day in period 6, yes, we really did know each other.)
     Now you may be wondering, how is it that I, little ol'Elicia, could do what I did.  I took a stand.  It didn't matter to me if I got my ass kicked, I knew I was doing the right thing.  Now of course, I could have tried something more peaceful, which would have worked as well...But this is not about Elicia the Peacekeeper, this is about Elicia the person willing to take a stand.
     If I could go back in time: I would want to try something more diplomatic and save the threat of force as a last resort, but this is life.  We are all flying by the seat of our pants.  We can think about what we did, we can regret, we can rejoices, and we can become better.
     Be brave, be bold, but also, be kind.
     Peace out.  I hope to catch you on the flip side.  XOXOX  Elicia.

 
 
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The Lover, the Warrior, the Peacekeeper, and the day of Solid Control.  Today we talk about the Peacekeeper.  Have you ever met someone that was born to keep the peace?  It is rare, and though we all strive for peace, some special souls really mean it, it is in their nature.

Imagine, Raven in public school, grade 1, age 7.
    
I volunteered all the time at the Public School.  The kids knew me well, and I can honestly say, I loved all of them, I can see why teachers do what they do.  In first grade I began volunteering every day at the school, I came right after lunch for language arts and helped the kids with reading and to catch up on their assignments.  For privacy, let us call the girl in the story Jade and the boy in the story George.
     I was in my group when Jade came up to me.  She proceeded to tell me that George, at lunch recesses, called Raven fat.  Jade told me that she told him that Raven was not fat and Raven was nice and she loved Raven.  I thanked Jade, but of course, because I love Raven so much, I was mad.  Very mad.  How dare this little boy do that to my daughter?
     In this class there were different table groups that represented the children's learning level.  There was usually five per group.  I switched groups and went to Raven and asked her what happened.  She told me the story, and she could see that I was mad.  I told her I could tell the teacher and do something, but she told me no.  She said her feelings weren't hurt......BESIDES....He was probably just having a bad day.  She told me that she forgave him and that I should forgive him...because again...he was just having a bad day.
     Well, I listened to her, and I didn't do anything, but I thought, I am going to tell his mother, that little boy needs to learn that it is not okay to bully. 
     The school bell rang, my time was up.  When the last bell rang I went to talk to the boy's mother.  I waited outside with Raven, holding her hand, and wondering how I was going to talk to this boy's mom without her knowing, because she, unlike me, had moved past it, she had even smiled at him and said good-bye.  That is when I saw it.  The boy was being picked up by his older brothers who were...yes you guessed it..picking on him.  I took pause in this moment.  I felt bad for him, and though I was fired up, I walked home with Raven and reflected on what it was I had just watched.
     The next few days at school were strange.  My daughter and her friend were nicer to the boy and I saw a real change in him and I understood that my daughter, though young, knew that this boy was hurting and he only lashed out on her because so many people liked her. 
     Now is all this true?  Yes.  Is my interpretation of the events correct?  Maybe.  What I took away from this was:  Listen to my child, sometimes they are right, sometimes they are wrong, but you will  never know if you don't listen.  I also learned that sometimes assholes are assholes for no reason, but sometimes, just sometimes they are just acting like the way they are taught.
     WARNING:  This does not mean that you should bend over backwards to be nice to bullies.  This does not mean that you should give and give and give until you are broken, because let's face it...most bullies will leave you broken.  This means that you should try to think about everything.  You can be nice...but know that being nice also means you must be on your guard.  That is why Raven and I balance each other out.  She allows me to take pause, to think, and to hope for the best...and I am there in case the best does not happen.  ;-)  We are better as a team. 
     As always, thanks for joining me.  I will catch you on the flip side.

 
 
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I think I have found the key to balance.  It is found in merging the Lover, the Warrior, the Peace Keeper, and the person of Solid Control.  It is not found in conformity, being afraid, or controlling others.  This of course is simply my opinion, but I hope to state my case by sharing memories of us.  Us as in my family.  I have been offered money in the past to share these memories, but they are too precious to me to sale...so I give them away to you...in hopes that it might help this ailing world. 
     This series will be called: L,W, P, SC.  Thanks.  And listed under Categories: Elicia.

    
Picture, from left to right: Elicia, Steve, Deavan, and Raven...My loves...Soon to add: Drascilla (I wonder who she will become.)
     Deavan is the Lover, Elicia is the Warrior, Raven is the Peace Keeper, and Steve is the day of Solid Control.  Control not being a bad term here, control being a good thing: Control over one's self, and I dare say, he is the best I have ever met.
     
     First memory to share:
    I kicked a man while he was down.  While he was begging and pleading with me to forgive and to love. 
    Do I have you mad?  Do you hate me?  Maybe you should.  I know that Raven, the peacekeeper would probably frown upon my actions...So let me explain:

     Summer, 15-year's old, confused, alone, and in Montana, away from everyone and everything I love.

     I love my mother so much.  It's an odd thing.  I don't show my emotions as much as I should, but I will fight to the death to protect those I love, this is why I call myself the warrior.

     My father and I were in Montana on a business trip.  We were about a month in and he was getting lonely for some company.  We were staying in a Motel and loads of people would come and go, from Military, to business men, to strippers.  This is about strippers, one in particular.  She was a pretty thing.  Short, about 5'2", brown hair that swept the bottom of her neck, full bosom, small waist, and the cutest smile.  She looked like a high-school cheerleader, and acted like one.  I think you are starting to get the picture.
     One night she invited my father over to her room, she was not 21 and needed alcohol, he could provide that.  He assured me everything was fine, but I, not being an idiot, knew better.  I simply said, as he was leaving our hotel room: "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
    Two hours later he returns.  He is angry, which is odd, I would think he would be happy.  He proceeded to yell at me and saying that he had his chance but couldn't take it because I made him feel guilty. Huh?   He goes on and on, and before long he turns into a blubbering mess, crying and sobbing, and confessing the times he had cheated on my mother.   He is clearly so wasted that he doesn't even know what is going on, but I do, and I am so angry.  On and on he rattles, confessing everything he has ever done as though I am a priest and he is dying. 
Something inside me snaps, and as he crawls (Keep in mind this is a 6 foot 4 man) to me and grabs my leg and begs for me to forgive him.  I snap.  I kicked him in the ribs, three times, as hard as I could, and he collapses, sobbing and feeling like this is what he needed, and then, to my joy, he passes out.  I am left to feel both victorious and confused, what will he do in the morning, is the only question I can ask myself.
      BUT...This is not the warrior story...A warrior does not kick a man while he is down...no...This is about what happens the next day.
     We are at work the next day.  For some reason my father is going on and on and on about how much my mother loved him and that SHE would NEVER cheat on him.  So in love, in fact, that she NEVER dated anyone even when they were divorced.   The warrior in me is boiling (The warrior could have used: Love, Peace, and certainly Solid Control...but alas...warrior is all alone...and mad) 
     I couldn't help it.  I only said what I said because I loved my mom and I hated the smug look on his face.  I made a mistake (My mom and I laugh about it now)  I tell him when they were divorced she did date someone, as a matter-of-fact, she dated a hot young stud.  I proceeded to tell him how beautiful the young man was (I think 27 and they were 37) and how much he wanted to marry my mom.  Oh the look on his face was priceless.  It was so worth it, until he called my mom, UGH...I was sticking up for her...but it backfired...Thank GOD we were in Montana for another month.
      Well that is it for now.  More to come.  Thanks for listening.  As always XOXOXOX and I will catch you on the flip side.  Elicia