Last week on KTP, Keith and I discussed data from a new study by an independent group of researchers showing that 80 percent of Americans see themselves as against political correctness. Shouldn’t surprise you. Most people don’t even pretend to act “shocked” when someone acts racist or sexist in public. It’s the phony rich people on TV who act like we’re supposed to care about another douchebag and his poetic justice or the next racial/gender/sexual/animal equality BS or whatever it is that we’re supposed to care about this time.
I’ve always held to the view that devoted Democrats and Republicans in general live sheltered lives and worry about things like lunch and dinner, driving a nice car, parking in the city, and upgrading to a 9.7 inch iPad screen because there’s no way to work on a mini 7.9 4:3 without hurting your back. Yuppie culture surrounds political culture as it does anything else in this country, including the more radical elements of the Left and Right. Think back to the ideal of the rebel a la Jamestown and Plymouth Rock: the adventurer, fortune seeker, pioneer American colonist; the original gangster seeking freedom from religious persecution who walked around with an axe and slept on the cold hard floor.
New Crystal Meth is out.
“Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously. And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.”
―Ralph Waldo Emerson
When I was on blackout status at the treatment facility in Las Vegas, thinking I was special and therefore deserved and expected the CAs to keep an eye on my car for me, I was forced to take a loss and didn’t find out about it until it was too late. During that time I wasn’t allowed to receive any visitors for the first 45 days – except for my sponsor – an older recovering alcoholic from Texas who walks with a cane and talks about Death during breakfast; and who was diagnosed with a wicked case of malignant spinal cord tumors some years ago. Surgical strategies were successful at removing the tumors from his spine but the operation left him with permanent disabilities that wiped out any chance of walking again. The old man literally had to shit in a pan for the first 6 months and couldn’t go to sleep without going through an entire process of crawling and “transferring” into bed. After nearly 2 years of assisted shitting solutions, he was able to move one leg just enough to smash around on a cane. He continued gaining movement until he was able to shit in peace again, and then, started showering on his own. Before anyone knew it, he was somehow driving again. Then, the tumors came back. He had to go for a second surgery and although the doctors were successful at removing the tumors from his spine again, the surgery took him back to the start.
All the way back to the pan.
Editor’s note: Alcoholics Anonymous has no opinion on outside issues including the political, and I know I said I wouldn’t get all philosophical on this blog but I thought some of my readers might find this reading interesting.
“To many minds all this liberty for the individual spells sheer anarchy. Every newcomer, every friend who looks at A.A. for the first time is greatly puzzled. They see liberty verging on license, yet they recognize at once that A.A. has an irresistible strength of purpose and action. “How,” they ask, “can such a crowd of anarchists function at all? How can they possibly place their common welfare first? What in Heaven’s name holds them together?”
Forgive me for being quick and dirty but here’s the deal, O’Neil. I have to attend 7 NA meetings a week and provide proof of the attendance of the meetings. So I have to get a meeting verification sheet signed and then turn it into the Office on Fridays. I have to do this for the next 18 months (and not look suicidal). Luckily, Serenity Club in Chinatown is open 24 hrs a day and hosts hundreds of meetings a week. I can hit a meeting at the last minute or double up on days when I miss one. From my neighborhood, the 203 to CT is only 1 bus on 1 road going west until Twain turns into Spring Mountain. I get off on Valley View and boom: I’m in Chinatown.
Author’s note: These are some of the entries I made between February 22, 2018, and May 22, 2018. I went through an intense period of drug and alcohol withdrawal after two years of traveling and then wrote during the 90 days of recovery in Vegas. It took about an hour to record these entries but that one hour of concentrated activity was scattered over a 90 day period at the facility. I lost a lot of writings along the way but it is what it is.
0222. Irony walks into a room. I walked out of a hospital after quitting my job tying up mental patients for $17/hr — a job most people would run from — hilariously, to walk back into a hospital after 23 months of being on the road to be tied to a bed in 6 point restraints and treated as a mental health patient.
0223. Positive affirmation. It could be worse: I could be Asian.
0224. Insanity. I’ve already had three psychiatric evaluations and passed them all. I told the nurse practitioner and she goes, “Ryan, normal people don’t have three psychiatric evaluations.”
It’s been a very difficult day.
My brother was just sentenced to 9 years in prison. If he stays on good behavior and participates in lots of programs and keeps his nose clean he will be up for parole in 3 years. He must serve a minimum of 3 years minus the 78 days already served in jail. If he rocks the boat, he will serve the maximum of 9 years.
The guy before him who had the same lawyer as my brother and who was also facing time for a shooting was a gang banger who they actually have on video firing an entire clip into a bar during a gang shooting. He went to rehab, got off drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes, and started attending school getting all A grades. His sentencing got stretched out for 18 months which is what the attorney tried to convince my brother to do. The judge gave this guy no prison time and probation with the stipulation that he stays clean from all drugs and alcohol, and stays clear of other gang members.
I can take anything. . .