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Contact Mizeta at mizetasworld@live.com, or Howard at fhschneider@comcast.net

Shaved Legs an All - Diva

Call me stuck up if you want, but I’m tired of dealing with lowbrows. People unwilling to apply basic manners and show respect for others. People who’ll spend all night tagging a concrete wall but won’t lift a finger to help the world move forward. People unwilling to be anything but parasites, expecting to be taken care of but offering nothing in return. I’m equally tired of dealing with people so arrogant and insensitive they ignore everyone else’s presence while pontificating about how wonderful they are. I’m a diva in my personal opera, but realize I am part of a whole in the final analysis.

Whatever I perceive myself to be, or how important, there are others in this world living out their own definition of reality. I’m just sick of people who want to obviate the existence of others in order to do that. Whether it’s through disregard and disrespect, ignorance, or unawareness, I am taking a stand against rudeness. I will no longer accept it in my world. Be an asshole if you like, but don’t ask me to condone your caustic behavior.

Sometimes I can be a prissy little bitch who wants the world to be cleaner and nicer, but I quickly remember that the human experience has been mostly bloodshed and violence. Harmony and coexistence have been localized sub programs for millennia. Is it possible to alter those programs? To reboot ourselves in more positive directions? I hope so. If not, tweekers will steal everything we’ve earned, and gangsters will slay our children for their lunch money. Intimidation, suppression, and persecution have ruled for so long I wonder if it is possible to become a free human. Someone unshackled from violent surroundings and capable of existing without societal restraint based on false morality. Someone who can behave in a civil manner while pursuing their dream.

I know it’s a lot to ask. To quit blasting stereos at midnight. To allow the guy who works graveyard a little sleep before you start screaming at your old lady about the pancakes being too hard and not having enough syrup. To not work on your car at five in the morning. To not muscle your way past other drivers who are equally eager to get home. There’s a lot of us here, and getting along is highly desirable to a sissy like me. I hate bruises and would prefer a hug over a fist in the face. Maybe that makes me weak and undeserving of a place in line. Too caring, too concerned. Whatever! I just want to get through the day without other people dumping stress in my life. I write fiction. I deal in make believe. My goal is to transport people’s minds to magical, implausible, imaginary places. I just want to have fun. At the end we all die, but what happens before then is significant. It is the story of our lives. As I grow older I’m ignoring belittlement from self-appointed critics. If I’m a tarnished diva and my soundtrack stinks, I’m willing to take responsibility for that. None of us is perfect. All of my life I‘ve sought to belong. To forge friendships with loving people and incinerate hatred. All I’ve ever wanted to be is loved. All I’ve ever wanted to do is love. That is a more difficult task than I ever thought it might be. We have urges, and we have programming, but we also have the ability to take control. Such a pity so few of us take advantage of infinite opportunity. Can we do that? Take charge? Take responsibility for our words and actions? Shall we remain victims of improper programming forever? Mizeta         

 

Never Too Late for Love

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Recently I attended the wedding of two women in their eighties. One of the women was part of my writing group at the senior center until recently and has a wonderful sense of humor. I miss her stories that often made me laugh so hard it hurt. She went through life with a male partner until finally coming out as a lesbian in her seventies. A while back she met a woman she brought to our weekly meetings. It was easy to see they were getting along famously and when they said they were moving in together it was no surprise. They had to do a lot of downsizing and the usual restructuring of the nest. So, when they said they were getting married everyone was happy for them, even though other community activities kept them from attending any longer.

The wedding was held in a public park, not in a dark corner or a private residence. That was refreshing in more ways than I can count. There is still a lot of resistance to same sex marriage, but the times they are a changing. The bride wore a lacy white top and the groom wore a white tux with purple accoutrement. The groom’s flashy silver sneakers were awesome. They both use walkers, which were wrapped with white netting. When they walked down the aisle behind a four-year-old flower girl tossing rose petals it was amusing. Throughout the ceremony there were several incidents and remarks that caused the whole assembly to chuckle. It was a very religious ceremony, (which made me somewhat uncomfortable) but even the preacher cracked a few jokes during the reading of vows. Sitting in their walkers they were the epitome of love as they exchanged rings and declared their commitment to each other.

Several things stood out to me. One was that while many church people lash out at gays, there is at least one congregation (probably, hopefully, more) that doesn’t practice condemnation as part of its faith. Christianity supposedly embraces diversity and equality, and this was a shining example of such philosophy. Legislating against such loving women would be a crime.

Another thing was how people passing by smiled instead of frowning. How everyone there embraced this union with complete acceptance. Tears of joy abounded. That women so deep into their lives could find each other and fearlessly act on their feelings. No lightning bolts came out of the sky and struck them down for being sinners. Everyone ate, laughed, and functioned like any community in the world. I felt the love in the air and enjoyed this moment under the sun. I walked away thinking that our strength is in our unwillingness to be deterred from finding love, freedom, and good company. That only by standing in the light and declaring our true selves will the burden of derision be lifted and the chains of oppression be unshackled. Bravo to you ladies. I tip my hat and wish you happiness and joy. Mizeta

Shaved Legs And All - Bullies

There was a bully in our neighborhood who pounded on every kid at one time or another. I suppose there’s someone like Frank Scott in every group. Physically developed beyond their peers and flexing muscle the rest have yet to develop. Running rampant and practicing subjugation by threat of further violence and bloodshed. But not all bullies have testicles. There are plenty of female bullies in search of victims. They tend to use put-downs, criticism, and lack of resistance as weapons. The desire to keep the peace can allow their behavior to go unchecked by people avoiding confrontation or excusing their rudeness out of dogooderism. That “she means well. I’m sure she didn’t hurt your feelings on purpose” mentality. That form of violence bruises the psyche of its targets rather than their bodies.

Frank Scott used to beat me up on a weekly basis. I survived his drubbings with lots of fat lips and a few black eyes. Fortunately, I didn’t have to spit any teeth on the ground. I finally knocked him down one day by being agile and sneaky. After he was on the ground I sat on his chest and pounded away. I never wanted to hurt him or anyone, but was forced to retaliate due to constant harassment. After that, he left me alone. He found other victims and stepped out of my life. There would be plenty of others wanting to hurt me because I was a girly-boy, but indicting them is not the point of this missive. The point is that we need to stop allowing bullies to run over us. We need to take a stand and say we will no longer accept demeaning statements or derogatory remarks delivered with mean-spirited intent. Flipping friends crap and fun-filled trash-talking are common practices, but some people inflict wounds instead of creating humor. They never say the words “I’m sorry,” and feel justified in their lack of concern for the feelings of others. They place themselves in a blameless category and consider the rest of us unworthy. Yes, I’m an emotional, tear-soaked dishrag that gives a shit. Is that such a bad thing?

Recently, I’ve made myself unpopular by taking a stand against bullying and all forms of disparagement. I’m tired of being told I suck. Tired of trying to meet other people’s requirements for friendship.  I’m sick of other people’s rage and their need to obviate others in order to fulfill their personal agenda. If you don’t like me, fine, I’m totally okay with that. If I’m stupid, don’t talk to me. All I want is to free my headspace from negativity. To sit in my dullness and ponder what tickles my fancy.

Nobody is better than anybody. I get that, but it doesn’t mean we can all be warm and fuzzy friends. There might always be conflict in the world because we are all competing to survive. To fill our bellies and take the next gasp of air. But if we could work as a team everyone could have a piece of the pie. Constantly denying one for the sake of the other could ultimately lead to our demise as a species. We can be replaced and life will continue without us. We are not necessary. Many others life forms have been eliminated and the process will continue. If we keep eradicating each other we will be forgotten as life builds newer models.

We could be supportive instead of bullying each other and make everyone’s existence easier. We’ll always be up against the planet and its contrariness, but why we need to hate and bully each other remains a mystery to me. Is it in our DNA? Is it learned behavior? All I know is that it sucks to constantly be picked on. Whether it’s for your skin color, height, mode of dress, or simply for your point of view, no one wants to be publicly humiliated. This is especially true when people you think of as friends delight in placing you at the bottom of the pecking order. For myself, my worth is unmeasurable by someone else’s scale. I refuse to accept being pushed around any longer. I hope that more of you will find the courage to walk away from dead-end situations that wither hope and destroy dreams. Changing where you hang or who you hang with seems daunting at first, but once freed, your mind will wonder why you suffered so long.

Be well my friends. The world is filled with hatred and bigotry, but you can make a difference. Look around. Smile. Enjoy being yourself, whomever that might be. We can’t stop haters from hating, but we can refuse tyranny. Rolling over is no longer an option. Speak up. Be loud and clear. Love may not win, but the battle is fully on. Mizeta.

Shaved Legs and All - Anarchy As a Way of Life

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I try to avoid blanket indictments because there are always elements or people outside whatever boundaries I establish. That said, there are a lot of scofflaws out there who could care less about the safety and welfare of others. Anarchy exists on the roads and in line at the supermarket. Even while standing still one can be stepped on by someone refusing to share space. Polite people and courteous drivers are being run over by self-important, uncaring, insensitive humans prone to complain if the same behavior is applied to them. Everyone absolves themselves of rudeness and lays the blame on the other guy. I’ve never been a big law and order person, but can easily see how the Me First generation has destroyed any sense of civility in the world.

People looking at their phones walk into the street without glancing around. Drivers get thrown the finger because they had to brake hard to avoid a collision. When pedestrians get killed these days it is often their fault, but the vehicle operator has to prove lack of impairment and culpability. Crackheads attempt to burglarize homes and advocates for the downtrodden use guilt tactics to make sure that hard-working people get indicted for protecting property. We have become so adversarial in our pursuits there is no set of rules that can apply to all situations or circumstances.

A friend of mine just came back from Costa Rica. No weapons. No army. A relaxed and convivial experience where she felt safe at all times. She felt reluctant to return to the chaotic fray America’s every day has become. Giant crash on I-5. Murder at the transit station. Breaking news! Breaking news! The cry of a society unmindful of another’s right to exist and pursue similar goals.

I was walking towards the liquor store tonight and a heavily-muscled dude in a big wheel pickup truck stared at me hatefully as he drove by. I could tell he’d love to meet me in some dark place and kick my guts out. I just smiled and looked away. A few seconds can change the entire course of a life. Me in the hospital or grave. Him in prison or freed by some attorney opposed to weirdos of all types. By my not flipping him off, or being silly and blowing him a kiss, he was left to stew in his darkness and I got cocktail makings for an evening at home. I bought a new dress this week and sexy new shoes. What more does a girl need to be happy?

When it comes to those maniacs on the road, I obey the speed limit and don’t worry about how much I piss them off. I understand the lack of traffic enforcement in the face of greater crime, so they get away with sixty in a thirty-five zone after roaring past me. I’ve become a big advocate of camera vans and increased city revenue through citations. Maybe attacking pocketbooks is the only punishment people will respond to. That, or the loss of a loved one to someone texting. If someone calls while I’m driving, I pull over and answer, or ignore it till later. Maybe that makes me seem boring and old, but in truth, my fire still burns bright, bold and hot. I choose to apply it to things other than talking through someone who was sitting quietly at the counter until two babblers roosted on either side. I choose not to slam doors in people’s faces in order to gain some self-imagined advantage. Instead, I open the door and let others pass through first. Most times they wear different sizes or have different tastes than me anyway. Sometimes they require a different service and may end up in the long slow line while I achieve express status. Either way, others are here. I can be peeved by their presence or wait my turn. Protecting that place in line has to happen or I would be forever last. Meanwhile, my lilies are blooming. Everything in my yard is reaching for the sky. Days are awash with color. If your soul is still, no outside force can disrupt you. Stay true. Wear what you want. Be who you are. Never let hate rest in your heart. Mizeta   

Shaved Legs an All (Cross Dressing Made Easy) Acceleration

Sixty years ago I would have been beaten unmercifully for walking down the street wearing a dress, or thrown in prison and raped by other inmates for fun. These days, people in public service are mostly polite, but that doesn’t mean there’s not plenty of folks who’d love to rip my hide off. Political correctness and proper workplace behavior are presently big issues. Eighty years ago, feeding your family was as big a problem as it is today. The difference now is that since we don’t farm as much as we compute, we forget that without someone raising cows there is no milk. That somewhere someone is rising before dawn to feed our nation. That in another state someone is standing in the rain, trying to reconnect our Internet after a tree fell on a power line. We have begun to take things as givens and inviolate.

A hundred years ago, Oregon mostly had dirt and gravel roads. Indoor plumbing, electricity, automobiles, and telephones were still evolving. These days, we’re over-connected and densely packed. We throw each other the finger for having to wait an extra 3.02 seconds at a stop sign. Two hundred years ago we might have walked ten miles a day towards our destination after cutting through undergrowth and dealing with hostile forces. Everything moved in slow motion compared to how we live today, which poses the question of where do we go from here? What will life look like fifty or even a hundred years from now?

Lately, my major beef has been about the desire of fundamental groups to plunge us back into the moral dark ages and impede scientific evolution. Sure, we need to learn how to live without such privilege should our infrastructure fail or be destroyed, but those are practical physical concerns. Those unable to compete or find fraternity would perish, but that is common in nature. Where I diverge from such archaic thinking is that the acceleration of knowledge has revealed countless galaxies and scientific wonders debunking superstition. I find it hard to believe there are people who still think the world is flat and you can fall off the edge. Acceleration of mankind’s quest for greater understanding of itself and its surroundings have moved us beyond the need for believing in things we cannot touch or see. There are billions of stars out there. Is there a planet orbiting one of them where most of the people dress like me? If so, maybe there would be some killer deals on used dresses. What coin of exchange would we use? My mind ponders such things. Am I alone in wondering what is yet to be revealed? How big is big? How did it get so big? Was it always this way?  There seem to be more questions than answers.   

When we hovered in the dark and feared every sound there was a need for unseen protective gods. In the light we can easily see that fear evaporates in the presence of reason. I have accelerated to warp speed when it comes to accepting a rapidly changing world. I am ready for tomorrow, leaving yesterday behind, but never lose sight of the fact we are immersed in today. I have a friend whose favorite saying seems to be “keep up.” I try my best to do so.   Mizeta

Shaved Legs and All (Cross Dressing Made Easy) Network Cooperation

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In the fifties, game shows could not have shown same-sex couples on television, let alone hand them thousands of dollars-worth of prizes. It took nearly half a century for men or women to give a shout out to their gay or lesbian husband/wife/partner while spinning the wheel on The Price Is Right or competing for appliances and vacations on Let’s Make A Deal. Ellen would have been censored for decades. Roseanne would have been stoned in the street. Tutti-fruity spokesmen would have been laughed out of town by paunch-bellied macho men and their complacent wives.

So … what has changed? Same-sex couples are nothing new under the sun. Homosexuality has been practiced in every culture since the beginning of time.  What’s changed is that network executives, celebrities and the culture they serve have grown tired of being oppressed. Homophobes and their ilk are being rapidly outnumbered by sensitive beings who want everyone to express their individuality. Despite opposition, those in charge of entertaining the masses have chosen to accept and cater to the will of an emerging majority. After centuries of censure, the true nature of humans is being revealed.

We are all part of nature’s duality. No one is all of this and none of that. Movies, television and literature are becoming more aware of humanity’s diversity and are no longer catering to a specific mindset, philosophy and behavioral regimentation. Everything goes, as the saying goes. Nothing is off-limits these days despite continued resistance from extremists trying to hold back the tide of change. Old concepts and beliefs have been proven untrue. Xenophobes, bigots, and zealots will eventually be replaced by a newly-awakened youth movement. Where we were teetering on the precipice of ignorance and stubborn resistance to evolution, there is now a re-energized sense of belonging and empowerment among young minds. It is my hope they will continue to seek seats of power and restore a sense of dignity to the human race. That they will legislate with all in mind. Not create laws barring lovers to wed for life. Not destroy the beauty of our planet in the quest for power and wealth.

I’m old and outdated. I get that. I’m not mega-savvy to the cyber world we’ve become. But, what I am is a soul. I am beautiful like everyone is in their own way. Not everyone will become a star, or the premise for a movie, but each of us is broadcasting their clip and hoping to be recognized. How many viewers one has is another matter altogether. Love to everyone forever. Mizeta     

Breasts in a Box

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If I could restart my life like I can my computer, I would get breast implants at an early age. Now that I’m in my seventies, implants would be impractical for a number of reasons. For years I’ve made do with heavily padded bras or foam inserts, but they didn’t move in a way that seemed natural. So . . . enter Amazon Prime.

Doing a search for fake silicone breasts led me to a huge menu of sizes and textures at various price points. Voila! Since I don’t have a credit card, my friend who has a Prime account ordered my selection for me and I gave her the cash I’d scrounged up to give myself the look I’ve always desired. Due to the high-speed miracle of modern marketing, my breasts arrived a day and a half later.

Of course, all of my friends wanted to see them, so I carried the box around and let everyone feel them before going home and trying them on. What a transformation. Their movement as I walked around was amazing. The next time I went to my local pub for a cocktail there were lots of humor-filled comments. “Don’t poke my eye out with those things. Nice rack. Etc.” Since I laugh at myself all the time, it turned into an evening filled with hilarity.

It’s interesting how such little things can make a difference in our lives. The best gifts people give me, besides their friendship, are half-empty bottles of perfume they no longer wear or an outfit they think would look good on me. The fact they participate in my life choice without reservation is a treasure beyond compare. Now that I have my breasts in a box, I catch myself glancing in mirrors just to watch them wiggle as I move. Each evening I gently wash them in warm water and set them on a towel to dry. They crack me up each time I notice them looking up at me. I’ve talked to many women over the years who wished theirs were detachable as the weight leads to back trouble and dents in their shoulders. I understand that I’ve enjoyed the perks of living as a girl without the problems associated with actually being female. Because I’m tall and broad-shouldered the weight of my new friends riding on my chest doesn’t cause me discomfort.

This summer I’ll have to get away from the spaghetti strap dresses I usually wear and transition to outfits that will hide bra straps so I can continue to have fun with silicone. Anyway, I hope everyone out there finds ways to achieve their goals and fulfill their dreams. Having one of mine delivered in a box has kept me smiling all week. Love, Mizeta.     

Shaved Legs an All (Cross Dressing Made Easy) Walls

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Hadrian’s Wall didn’t stop the collapse of the Roman Empire. In Berlin, people fled despite efforts to hold them in. Is it possible to build a wall high and long enough to deter migrations? People have set out to sea in rudimentary boats to relocate. They’ve marched long hours under horrific conditions to gain purchase in greener pastures. Building a twenty-billion-dollar wall is yet another delusion, an exercise in futility. There will be holes in it and ladders propped against it before it can ever be completed. Maybe a few contractors with inside connections will benefit. Maybe some temporary jobs will be created, but in the end, taxpayers will be left with a monument to stupidity.

What if we used twenty billion dollars to resurface pothole-riddled roads? What if it was invested in schools to provide better education and greater futures for our progeny? What if it was used for health care or feed undernourished children? To rebuild failing infrastructure and disaster relief. To provide mental health counseling for ex-soldiers who fought in pointless wars and now live in constant agony. To move the country forward instead of wallowing in bigotry and segregation.

Has no one learned from the past? Must we continue racism, sexism and xenophobia? What will it take for us to learn that we are all the same? That we bleed when injured. That we mourn the loss of loved ones. That bombing homes and destroying property only leads to further suffering. That we all have dreams that can be trampled by insensitive, greedy profiteers.

I hope that when people such as myself are deported we are sent to Milan or Paris where we can shop for fabulous clothes and shoes. Or a place where no one is concerned about gender identity. A place where we are judged by our actions and awareness of others rather than outward appearances and genetics. Where our ability to love and act humanely is more important than getting over on the other guy.

I know. You might think I’m a dreamer living in a fantasy. That the eat, or be eaten mentality of all living creatures will never change. In response to that, I point out the Star Trek concept. When there was enough to go around for everyone and there was no need to rob or go to war for acquisition, life on earth morphed into personal development instead of mere survival. We have the surplus and means to nurture everyone, but a greedy few sit on the thrones of power and pull the strings. Their unwillingness to share and constant aggrandizement has led the world to the brink of disastrous war. Movies about a post-apocalyptic society are one thing, but living it in real time would really suck.

All I want to do is wander around in my new dress enjoying a gorgeous sunset or birds singing in trees. I feel everyone has their definition of happiness and tranquility. I don’t begrudge anyone their pursuit of it until they try to wall me out or trample on my freedom. Building a wall only makes people want to assail it. Like a puzzle, they strive to find ways to solve and defeat it.

What say we quit walling each other out and find ways to work together? Build a better, cleaner world instead of discharging weaponry to boost the economy. What if there really were so much to go around no one need go hungry? I don’t know. Maybe we’d still kill each other out of boredom. I hope not. Otherwise, we are doomed to incessant self-conflagration. I want to believe we are on a journey to self-betterment and that our base nature can be induced to pursue loftier goals.

 

Stay true to yourself and don’t be afraid. I became fearless when I first walked down the street in a dress, wearing lipstick and carrying a purse. Others become fearless in other ways. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, please keep doing what you’re doing. Together we’ll find ways to jump over walls, no matter how high they’re raised. Mizeta       

Shaved Legs an All (Cross Dressing Made Easy) Next Generation

Christmas is always an awkward time for me. To start with, I don’t need an excuse to be good to my friends because I do that year-round. I try to tell people how much I appreciate them each and every day, and do whatever I can to put a smile on their face. Purchasing gifts and wrapping them in festive paper is unnecessary.

Everyone who knows me is aware of my opposition to organized religion for various reasons, but they also know about my willingness to not judge them for their beliefs. We love each other for our acts and inner qualities instead of tenets imposed by outside agencies. So, Christmas rolls around and the whole country goes into a Bing Crosby, blinking light, caroling sorta mode. People dream of white Christmas and overlook the traffic nightmare that scenario creates. All those insurance claims for damaged cars. Grandma slipping on ice and breaking a hip. Little Johnny drowning in a half-frozen pond, chasing a dog named Spot.

While my holiday dinner hosts (who are kind enough to invite me) pray over the food, I’m to be found elsewhere, thinking about my next story or watching football. Since the food is wonderful, I’m not shy when it comes to filling my plate once everyone digs in. We eat and laugh like families all over the world. The experience is always a gift within itself, but this year a pleasant surprise came my way and sparked hope for the future.

At a time when we are heavily divided along every socio-political and economic line, we often overlook the astuteness of children. Those who haven’t learned to hate or become bitter. I know I’m one of those guilty of accepting the presence of kids without truly connecting with them.

 So where am I going with this?

I received a gift from a young boy who was asked to choose someone outside the family to buy for. He wanted to buy me a dress, but his mom didn’t know my size so I got beautiful jewelry instead. BUT!!! . . . That’s not the issue. The fact is . . . a young boy perceived that a dress would make me happy. He had no concern for social mores and taboos, wanting nothing more than to make me smile. He was capable of seeing me as a human and liking me for that.

What that said to me is that kindness will never die while mankind exists. That no matter what misfortune or tyranny we face, when we are huddled against a storm in the black of night, someone will be willing to share their warmth. That appearance is secondary to heart radiations. That without realizing it, I had gained a friend. It reminded me that innocence lost is a painful process where we learn indelible lessons about man’s inhumanity to man. It focused my mind on how easy it is to ignore each other. How easy it is to tread heavily in the world and squash what could have been glorious. Every time I wear my gift I will remind myself there is always someone who cares. That hope really is eternal and our light cannot be quelled. That the next generation has a greater chance of getting it right by studying our failures, And in the years to come, I should try harder to love everyone whose path I cross. Mizeta   

 

 

 

Shaved Legs an All (Cross Dressing Made Easy): Pendulum

It was wonderful to see the diversity among elected officials during recent balloting. Transgender, Sikh, black, lesbian, etc. On local levels things seem to be swinging away from extremism, but I fear the agenda of religion dictating law has increased its momentum in our seat of government. Constantly trying to legislate our behavior, dictate our movements and rights based on fundamentalism that will take us back centuries. That said, I would like to address an issue that might seem separate, but isn’t. It is the other hand sweeping us into Orwell’s nightmare.

Taking away Internet neutrality will stifle freedom of speech. People who speak their minds on social networks will see messages on their screens. ACCESS DENIED. POST DELETED. Soon one can only watch approved movies, read only family friendly, non-inflammatory literature, only see what you’re allowed to see. The argument that investors are not investing due to lack of controls is pure bull. The giants want to push the little guys out and gouge consumers who have no other choice than to use their services.

One might be seeking information about a subject that censors have blocked and see messages like INFORMATION UNAVAILABLE. It is yet another gimmick to program us into being obedient little users that ask no questions and become complacent with our meager share of the pie. Meanwhile, like in 1984, the elite have complete access, unrestricted travel and virtually no monitoring of their movements. We begin to believe, like those in Winston’s world that things have always been the way they are now. History gets edited and re-edited, until truth cannot be discerned from fiction.

Mom&Pop’s LGBT Bakery finds its ads are rejected by online hosts or they are charged outrageous fees for lower case, nearly impossible to find placement. The corporate bakery gets tax reductions, subsidies, etc., and we all eat the same bread. And so it goes, up and down the line. A nation of merchants operating in an open market become factory workers and clerks for the already wealthy. Art becomes censored and schools only teach government approved courses.

Denying access to information will tighten the chokehold on personal freedom in ways from which we may never recover. We will be on camera everywhere, having to watch what we say or face imprisonment for conspiring. Conspiring about what? You might ask. Simply trying to speak our minds, read what we want, and dress however we choose. Just everyday stuff like that. Exposing ourselves to things other than what is chosen for us. Debating different sides of any subject without fear of retribution. Experiencing something other than someone else’s dream.

If and when the Fahrenheit 451era begins, all previous knowledge amassed by man will be lost unless we become like those in the story and each memorize a book. For the moment, I will keep spouting off what some consider paranoid lunacy. Others understand it is a sincere desire for acceptance and freedom for all. Mizeta        

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