Color

July 11, 2020

“Color”

By Jim Culp

This year, things have occurred on our planet that is unprecedented in modern times. The world has become a different place, and millions of youngsters will remember it as a time that is probably best forgotten. But I want to talk about a trend that has become so monotonous that I am growing immune to it day by day. This issue of “color” is an old thing, and it’s time it goes away. Let me define that. I don’t mean to ignore it… that is what we have been doing for three hundred years. When the “pale faces” came to the Americas in 1492, they first encountered the Taino. These ingenious peoples inhabited Hispaniola, an area in the Caribbean Sea that is known today as the Greater Antilles. In his journal, Christopher Columbus wrote "They were very well built, with very handsome bodies and very good faces....They do not carry arms or know them....They should be good servants." Color did not persuade his writings, but belief that his race was superior to theirs did.

Black Hawk, a leader of the Sauk, wrote “If the Great and Good Spirit wished us to believe and do as the whites, he could easily change our opinions, so that we would see, and think, and act as they do.”

This opinion of forcing someone’s ideals onto another person, tribe, or community, was and still is the chief cause of wars on our planet, right after acquisition of wealth. The Native Americans did not want to be Christianized. They did not want to be assimilated into European culture. They had lived on this continent for 14,000 years, and developed thriving societies. They had their issues, but who doesn’t?

I’ve made these examples for one reason. History is full of revolting occurrences, disturbances, and just about any atrocity you could imagine if you exercised your darkest demons. But I ask one thing…when should we say “enough is enough?” Do we keep making one tribe, race, or belief the “bosses,” and keep making the others their slaves? When will we stop using color as a measurement of a human being? Why does ANYTHING have a color as the first world of its title? I am asking that question to every single human being on this planet.

I understand that people have had woes in their lives. I understand that some people have had problems with the government and the police, but when you try to say that we should exemplify one color of people for that, you’re smoking some good shit.

Nationwide, police shot and killed about 1,000 people in 2017.

In 2018, that number was less, reported at 999.

In 2019, that number was 1,008.

So far in 2020, we’re at 506.

If you’ll look at the statistics, the numbers are not all one color; they are all over the place. Why do cops shoot people? You can study that all day, and when you’re done, you might as well get some credits and finish your PhD in psychology.

I have quoted these statistics to show you some facts, but I’ll close with an opinion. We are never going to be free from conflict and pain until we all work together for a better society. My next blog is going to tell you how we can do that.

I believe that conflict starts with labels. If my t-shirt says “Soundgarden is the best band of all time,” and you are a Pearl Jam fan, there will be minor conflict. If you wear a t-shirt that says “Black Lives Matter,” there will be conflict just about anywhere you go. All lives matter. Black, brown, red, yellow, white, and chocolate sundaes. Stop putting color in front of a name. Just because something terrible happened does not give you the right to destroy property and put your race in front of other races. Equality is about EVERYBODY. Like Mama used to sing to me, “red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight.”

There ya go.

-Jim  

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June 21, 2020

“Father’s Day”

By Jim Culp

Father’s Day is a fairly modern celebration honoring paternal bonds and the act of fatherhood. Today, here in the United States, we celebrate Father’s Day for the 110^th time. Father’s Day, in some form or another, was celebrated in Catholic Christian countries as Saint Joseph’s Day dating way back into the Middle Ages. We, as citizens of the United States of America, did not start this tradition until 1910. For the past 110 years, Father’s Day has evolved into many household customs, and like many holidays here in the USA, they may be religion based or not. Some respect the old traditions; like “Sunday of the Forefathers,” where God told Abraham "In thy seed shall all of the nations of the earth be blessed" (Genesis 12:3, 22:18). Many others just like to honor their Dad, Step Dad, or someone who raised them. I fall into the latter category.

My Father (who I still call “Daddy) was a man raised in South-West Texas. He was the son of a cowboy, a mason, and a rancher. When he was 22 years old, he married a beautiful girl, Mary Ann Bristow, who was 17 years old by 5 days (see Photo #1). The lovely couple would enjoy a marriage of just 20 years, but would have seven children. Oldest to youngest they were: Deborah, John, Cynthia, Thomas, Mart, David, and James. My Dad wanted to be a soldier in his younger years. He attended a military academy, but was refused service in the active military because he suffered from a birth defect known as “ventricular septal defect,” or to put it plainly, a hole in your heart. He turned to civilian aspirations, and worked many types of jobs. Later, he started driving tractor trailer rigs (see Photo #2) in various modes, but finally settled on long hauls from El Paso to the West Coast.

In 1969, my Dad died of a massive heart attack, and the Culp kids were left with one parent for a long period. I was just two years old when Daddy passed, and can scarcely remember anything about it. The hole in my life of not having a real Dad would affect me for the rest of my life.

In June of 1972, my Mom remarried. William George Lesperance was a man 9 years older than my Mom, and about as different from my Dad as you could imagine (see Photo #3). “Bill,” as he was known to most, was a big man. He had a thundering bass voice, and talked to people like he wanted to. If he felt it, he spoke it. Bill was from Stockton, Kansas, and grew up in the midst of the Great Depression. He was raised on meals that included meat only once or twice a week. He was also raised by a father that had hard and fast rules about women and children. This would transfer to the Culp house when he became our paternal figure, but that is another story for another time.

During my childhood and teenage years, my relationship with this man evolved into friendship and mutual respect. My unofficial step-father (not my law) would be just that…a father. He paid the bills, and gave us a life. He was never a “Daddy” to me. His official title was “Pop.” I loved him for what he was, and he and I were “straight-shooters” when I (and my siblings) was with him when he passed in 1997. Pop loved his grandchildren, and always enjoyed being with them (see Photo #4).

In 1989, I became a Dad. My precious little girl, Jessica Marie Culp, was born on December 16, 1989. My life would change forever, as I was just 23, close to how my Dad had been when his first child was born. I was clueless, but I did have a large encyclopedia of lessons from watching my siblings with their kids for many years. A Sergeant in the Army once told me “Culp, congrats on the kid. But let me warn ya…when you have a boy, you only gotta worry about one pecker. But now that you got yourself a girl, you gotta worry about a hundred million of ‘em.”

“Thanks Sarge,” I said. “I’m glad you made me aware of that.”

If you are a father (by blood or law) you are part of a large fraternity of men that know the joy, worry, heartache, and sheer gratitude of raising children. The key (I’ve learned) is to love your children unconditionally. They are part of you, and you are their guide in life. Happy Father’s Day.

-Jim 

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June 20, 2020

“Summer”

By Jim Culp

It is that time of year again. The weather becomes very warm, and in many areas of the Earth, quite humid. It is a time when life is at its peak, and every creature under the Sun is moving about. Even in the big city (where I currently live) it will be nothing for you to see hundreds of species of animals and plants in just one day. You’ll see the tiny insects that buzz about, crawl on the ground, and bug the living hell out of you when you are out and about. If you are fortunate enough to love in the countryside, you will likely see an even larger abundance of life, because there is less human interference. We enter into that phenomenon known as the Summer Solstice. It will begin tonight at 9:43 pm, and continue for 48 hours.

For all of us humans living in the Northern Hemisphere, our days will longer than usual. That is because the Sun is illuminating a whopping 50% of the Earth’s surface due to our position in the orbit of the big fiery ball that keeps us alive.

For us modern pagans, the solstice is the peak of life; and the celebration of Litha, or in the modern tongue, “first fruits.” It is a time when we honor the Mother Earth for her gifts to us, the fruits and vegetables that nourish our bodies and give us strength. It is also time to grow beautiful plants, gardens, and flowers with brilliant colors.

In these troubled times, it is important that we stand by our values, and help one another in keeping our health and sanity intact. If you are a first time reader, or a dedicated follower of my work; I thank you and wish you a wonderful summer, and health and prosperity to you and your families.

-Jim 

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June 17, 2020

“Changing Names”

By Jim Culp

Good Morning readers; today is a special day, no matter what your beliefs and opinions are. It’s a special day for me, because I am still alive and in fairly good health. I am drinking my first cup of coffee and reading the headlines of the local and national news. They include issues with COVID-19, riots and looting, tensions with North Korea, and many more. But the one most disturbing to me is the idea (and movement that people have started recently) to tear down statues that mean A or B, and change the names of places (particularly Military Bases) to names that are more in line with the needs of people to have things exactly like they want them.

I want to make it clear that I am not a person that wants racism or bigotry to exist anywhere. I saw it too many times growing up in the Southwest, and far too many times in my 22 years in the U.S. Army. White on Black, Brown on White, and Black on Asian…whatever, it doesn’t matter. When you base your decisions on how you treat someone using color, you are a racist. You should always try to see beyond skin color when you are dealing with people. Unfortunately, our country was called the “Great American Melting Pot” for a reason.

In the early days, the Continental United States had one race of human beings. The North American Indian (or “Native American”) was the sole race of the species “homo sapiens” that lived on the continent. No one today knows the number of them, but there were at least seven million of them on the continent in the late 1300’s. That is only a scientific hypothesis; no one knows the actual count. These, as well as the Natives of Mexico, Central and South America…were the “Americans” of the day. Then, in the 1400’s, Spanish troops “explored” the America’s, and had every intention of enslaving them for profit. By the 1700’s, Native Americans in the East fought the English, French, and British for their rights to exist. Many alliances were formed, and many were broken, having been based on lies in the first place.

I told you that story of the early days for one reason. Race and Money have always been a part of our Earth, and they always will be. How we deal with that is our charge.

Today, people want to tear down a statue of Robert E. Lee because he was a key Confederate Leader in the American Civil War. They want to rename Fort Carson because Kit Carson was a Union Officer that fought in the Mexican and Indian Wars. They want to rename Fort Bragg because General Braxton Bragg was a Confederate General in the Civil War.

These, and many other suggestions that I hear today, are the ideals of simpletons. Why? Glad you ask. Let’s take history back about two thousand years before the Civil War. Particularly, to the time when Rome became a Christian Empire based on the Emperor Constantine seeing a vision in the sky. He claimed that he saw a cross, and voice said “In this Sign, Conquer.” So in 325 AD, a pagan empire became “holy,” and the Romans began a conquest of killing “non-believers” in the name of God. In the following 1,400 years, millions were killed in the name of Christianity. A person was either a “believer,” or a pagan. It was God’s will that all persons on the Earth believe in his Son, and convert to Christianity.

Today, in the Americas, Christianity is prevalent in our societies. But I ask this question; if we are to use the ideology of today’s headlines, and tear down every monument that was built for a reason at the time, should we not also tear down all the churches and crosses, because they represent fourteen hundred  years of killing?

Should we destroy Mosques and Synagogues (Muslims and Jews both have bloody pasts, too) as well? Think about it. Forget that you are black, brown, or white. Try and educate yourself that these things are history, and to ignore history is to repeat it. When we follow a leader or a principle in ignorance, we digress into savagery and stupidity.

-Jim

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6/10/2020

“Name Calling”

By Jim Culp

Yesterday marked a true milestone in my middle age. I was frolicking through Facebook, and reading jokes and articles while waiting for a huge download to finish. It seems there was a post that I joined in on commenting some three weeks ago, and someone copied and reposted the entire conversation as a post. The author referred to me as a “Satanist” and “someone who dabbles in witchcraft.”

I laughed at this accusation, and read a few of the comments that some folks added. It seems that since I am not a Christian, I am “of the devil.”

It’s funny, I haven’t heard that crap since I was 18, and told my Mom and Step-Father that I was no longer attending church. The pastor of our congregation had told them that “people who do not do the Lord’s will by attending church have fallen into the hands of the devil.”

It always made me wonder how anyone ever came up with the concept of a being such as God, who the bible (the King James Version, anyway) describes as “all knowing, all seeing, all powerful, and always everywhere. Even when I was a brainwashed youngster, I always wondered about this, but in private. I had heroes in my comic books such as Batman, Spiderman, and the Hulk; but none of them held up to the Christian God’s abilities. So there was Thor, who was a god. He was the son of Odin, an even more powerful god. Thor and Odin had temples, but they were for priests, not parishioners. The people had their own homes, and would have small statues of their gods in them. In real life, the same applied for the Romans, who had statues of Jupiter in their homes as well.

These comics were not allowed at my church, or my church school (yes, I went to both). “There are no other gods, except our God,” they would say.

When I started travelling around the world, I learned that every country and continent had a different version of “god” or “gods.” When I took a World Religion class in my first year of college, I was simply aghast at the plethora of gods that are worshipped every day on this planet we call Earth. Earthlings (as a whole, but separate) worship a whopping 2,500 gods and goddesses. Every religion claims that their god(s) are the real one. But I digress.

For one to be a “Satanist,” one must first believe in such a creature. A Satanist defines Satan as the “Infernal Duke of Hell” and “the Black Pope,” as well as hundreds of other names. He even had an official church, called the Church of Satan; founded in 1966 by Anton Levey, and serious hippie and anti-establishment watchdog. I read his book in 2004, called the “Satanic Bible.” It was as meaningless and mindless as most religious books are. I also read the “Lesser Keys of Solomon,” a massive tome of thousands of devils and demons that Solomon (the biblical son of King David, in the Christian Old Testament) controlled all of them at some time, because Jehovah’s (God) angel had given Solomon the keys to their “cages.” These were not physical cages made of iron or steel, but ethereal cages made of God’s power. This book is called “the Lemegeton” and it allowed Solomon to summon these creatures whenever he wished, by using the spells in the book. Yes, I know…that be some deep shit.

So you see... I know more about demons and devils that most Christians ever learn in their lives. Why? Because I read books, and I study things. I don’t blindly follow a religion because someone told me it was the way, the truth, and the life.

I don’t base my life on one belief (the way my parents did) because it’s not what the human brain was designed to do. The brain is a storage shed (memory), a computer (logical thinking), and a reasoner (cognitive thought). Whether that brain is the product of 200 million years of evolution, or the seed planted here my aliens, or the creation of a god; it is what separate you and me from thousands of other species of animals. A cat knows that its master will feed it at some point in a day, and knows it from repetition of actions. What it doesn’t know is that its master paid $17 for the bag of kitty chow that it eats. A great white shark can track a milliliter of blood in a huge area of water for miles, and find the bleeding animal that left it. But what it can’t do is add 2 plus 2, or balance a checkbook.

When I was accused of being a Satanist by some idiot, I laughed heartily. I am most surely a Pagan, but I don’t follow any path of religion or spirituality unless it makes 100% sense to me. So far, none have.

So…brand old Jim what you want. But I am the same old me. I’ve never said I am perfect, and I never told anyone that they can’t believe what they want to. I chose Paganism because it made sense to me, and it still does; every day of my life. The Earth is our home, and the more we get in touch with it, the more spiritual we become.

-Jim

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Sunday, May 31, 2020

Kansas City, MO

“Rights and Riots”

Today has brought us some cool weather here in Kansas City. The weather has been so on and off lately, you never know what to expect. Life here in the big city has become a tiring effort…an effort to keep one’s sanity. The COVID 19 pandemic has gripped our state and our nation in a fist of fear, unknowing, and mistrust. But I won’t prattle on about that today, I am sure you all are as tired of that whole story as I am.

Today I want to focus on the largest news story of today; the demonstrations and riots. This morning’s headlines made me remember the LA riots of 1992. I had returned from the Gulf War, regained custody of my daughter, and was restarting my life again. The riots began with a young African American man (Rodney King) that was severely beaten by four Los Angeles police officers. The officers were acquitted, and all hell broke loose. The riots became so intense and uncontrollable that the California National Guardsmen, the Army’s 7^th Infantry Division, and the First Marine Division were called in to quell the whole affair, but not before hundreds of buildings, neighborhoods, and Korea Town were literally destroyed. 63 people lost their lives, and the bill for damages exceeded one billion dollars.

The riots of the last 2-3 days are supposedly about a man named George Floyd, a person that was being arrested for allegedly trying to buy merchandise with a counterfeit twenty-dollar bill. Again, there are four non-blacks, and one black guy. Floyd was restrained by human bodies, but the arresting officer kept his knee on Floyd’s neck (against concrete) for a little under nine minutes. Floyd died soon after of still conflicting causes.

I mourn for George Floyd, his family, and anyone that suffers or dies from police brutality. But I have to ask, what does someone think rioting and pillaging in their own city will do to fix this? Floyd’s death, just like Eric Garner in 2014; was a tragedy. These cops need to be policed, because a small percentage of them are out of control. I’ve known many police officers in my life, and listened to their stories for years. I’ve never been a cop, but I know what someone would be like in uniform just by listening to their verbiage. I know this from years of supervising soldiers and going to war with them. The soldier that walks around saying “kill ’em all, let God sort ‘em out” is someone that you don’t want to go to war with. My friends (that were police officers) often told me the same about their partners or other cops in their precinct.  I would hear stories like “he won’t think that way after five of us corner him in an alley,” or “they are all animals; just pretend you’re hunting.” All of the garbage needs to be in Hollywood movies, not on the streets of our nation.

As I watched the looting and kids fighting with the police, I wondered how long this will go on, and how little children will describe it to their children 30 years from now.  The people that I saw on one video were taunting the police, and throwing trash at them. The protesters were trying to start a fight, not get justice for Floyd. The woman (that could hear the best) was instigating anything that she could to start fight with the police. She also kept saying “this is against the Constitution.” Fact check here: The First Amendment states specifically that our citizens “the right to peaceably assemble, or the right to petition the government for redress of grievances.”

Please note that their isn’t a damn thing written there that says “taunt the police, fuck the police, or ‘try me, big boy!” Peaceful assembly means that you can carry signs, chant slogans, sing Glory Hallelujah, or play your harmonicas while marching. Absolutely nothing in that amendment gives you the right to hurt people, destroy their property, or set things on fire.

The last thing that I want to establish here is this. Republicans have elected a President that has sounded the battle cry from his microphone many times. He’s said things that shouldn’t come out of anyone’s mouth, let alone the President of the United States and the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces. You’ve all heard them, even the last one that said “remember, when the looting starts, the shooting starts.” He has set precedents at that point for any moron to claim that “this is his President’s order” in a court of law. In many ways we are a nation of very intelligent and peaceful people, but in other ways extremely ignorant and belligerent at times. It’s high time that we stop allowing this nation to digress into a state of utter chaos, and bring in a new way of thinking and doing things. Do I speak of constitutional reform? Why yes; yes I do.

-Jim

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May 11, 2020

“Memories”

By Jim Culp

Good Morning readers. This morning is a brisk one, it’s 51°F, which is cool for May in Kansas City. This spring is an example of nature letting us know that she needs better care, and that you and I are the stewards of the Earth.

Yesterday was Mother’s Day, and my mother is deceased. So, I spent the day working on my new book and doing odds and ends. Last night, I surfed the tube for something to watch, and ran across “Jarhead.” Over the years, I had seen pieces of it, but never watched the whole movie. I settled in with a couple of cold beers to see the whole enchilada form start to finish.

This movie had some familiar names like Jamie Fox and Jake Gyllenhaal. When I saw Lucas Black, I tried to remember the last movie I saw him act, and that was “Sling blade.” “Man, that was 24 years ago,” I thought to myself. I thought all the actors did well in the movie.

What made the evening special is that this movie took me back to the Gulf War. We’re talking way back in 1990. I was stationed at Fort Riley, Kansas. The division there at the time was the “Big Red One,” the First Infantry Division. I was a combat engineer with the First Engineer Battalion, and my company was the specialty unit of the outfit, because we were bridge engineers.

When rumors began of war starting in the region, we all felt that feeling that only a soldier can describe. You want to test yourself in war, but you know you might not come back. Such is the life of a person that joins the military.

The movie began with the Marines enduring Basic Training (or “Boot Camp”) as other services call it. There’s some other stuff after this, but I’ll skip that.

Eventually, the Marines in this movie are called up for Operation Desert Shield, the massive defense maneuver used by the Allies to protect Saudi Arabia, the larger and richer neighbor of Kuwait. The movie focuses on the dull drudgery of soldiering when not engaged in a mission. It’s a daily grind that I am all too familiar with.

This started my walk down memory lane, including the uniforms, the toilets made from plywood and 55-gallon drum halves, and hours of preparing positions. Then came the chemical drills. Oh, that was fun. Whenever you want to experience something miserable, do this. A) Wait for July or August (think Phoenix, Arizona) and do not shower for 14-15 days. B) Dress yourself in an argyle sweater, wool pants, and rain boots. Tie up or tape anything that is loose. C) Put a surgical mask on your face and cut a small hole in it for your mouth. Then, place a plastic trash bag over your head, and cut a slit near your mouth to breath. D) Tape the neck to your sweater, it can’t be loose. You are now in a training MOPP suit. MOPP means “Mission Oriented Protective Posture.” They should have named it the “TSADB suit.” That means “this sucks a donkey’s balls.”

Wear that for a day or so, then you’re allowed to remove the mask…nothing else. Stay in that get-up for a month. No showering. Hot? Shade only; no air conditioner. Do all the same work you normally do.

After a month or so has passed, take it all off and get yourself a shower. That’s a “shower” of 45° F water that your buddy pours over you using a 5-gallon water can. If you’re smart, you take care of your head and private parts first.

Lastly, the oil fires. I could never forget the sight of this catastrophe as long as I live. For as far as you could see, there were fires burning at least 200 feet into the sky, day and night. The air we were breathing was comparable to placing your face real close to your car’s exhaust pipe and eating your lunch. On guard duty, you literally had some idea of what the “hell” in the bible talks about.

Ah, memories. Aren’t they great?

This movie gets a C for me. It was good, not great. But the memories were awesome. They cover all the basics…fear, horror, pain, and death.

In the Gulf War (for me, that was December 25^th, 1990 to May 2, 1991) I held the same position (and rank) that the Jamie Foxx character was. I was 25 years old, and my soldiers were anywhere in age from 17 to 23.

My brother Jeff was a senior Marine in this same conflict. Mom was pretty relieved when we both came back.

If I wish my readers anything, it is that their children never experience war. It’s not glorifying, it’s not pretty. It’s something you never forget.

-Jim

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