Shhhh....

Sit for 3 minutes in silence. Take deep breaths, close your eyes. Its harder than it sounds, but I believe if you do this 3 times a day you will be a better person for it. Do it I dare you! Silence is a very powerful thing. When used in the right contexts and situations the change it makes can be creative and transformative. In silence the workings of the mind become loud and unyielding. One must deal with them and conquer them or once again return to noise and chaos in order to tame the mind....Mother Teresa claims "See how nature-trees, flowers, grass-grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence...we need silence to be able to touch souls." Without the soul we are beings lost into a void of nothingness, the abdication of thought is what causes most evil in the world. Others like Thomas Merton assert "solitude and silence teach me to love my brothers for what they are, not for what they say".Silence allows one to examine the deepest layers of being and gather up the dregs of goodness deep inside that we alienate with daily life....use at least 3 minutes of your day to recharge your being in concentrated thought, it will be a refuge for your soul.

Hurt, Lingers like...

Sometimes the people you love and care about the most do you the most harm. Spouses, Lovers, Friends, Family, with close contact comes propensity for aggravation, irritation, hurt and great joy. In times when my best friends push me away, alienate me and turn me into a object to deny relation with...I wonder how they can sleep at night. My mind and heart ache at these small rejections and losses of moments where we can experience great joy. Life is so short and filled with so much terror, horror and disintegration. Why do we work to tear one another down?
Why be selfish when you could be selfless?
Why deny when you can give?
Why have pleasure if it causes so much pain?
Martin Buber asserts that all life is relation and when we deny this relation we treat one another as an It...an object. We treat the other human if we own it, we alienate ourselves from God and from one another. Great atrocities in history were committed when Nations abdicate humanity in favor of objectification and ownership...The Holocaust, Darfur, The Holmodor....when will it end...Could it end if we would just stop hurting one another in our daily lives and squelch our propensity to treat each other as ITs and begin to treat one another as YOUs....living breathing human entities interconnected in every action, breath and word.

Back to the Grindstone....Maybe

I can't believe it! The time flies by...consistency is only a myth. Everything thing is temporal and impermanent...ask the Buddha. Nearly 2 weeks since I last posted...that might be an exaggeration. Life keeps running marathons, I am just trying to keep up. I hate running...I am ragged. School and work all week, then trips on the weekend. Not that I am complaining, I do it to myself. I don't have the money to go on trips, yet I plan them anyway as cheaply as possible.Convincing myself that I am broadening my horizon, beautifying my mind, opening the my eyes to a world beyond the self and occasionally relaxing. What I can't stop are these thoughts: Work....homework...money...life....ahhhhhhhhhhhh... I cut back my hours when school started, money became scarce...so I picked up a few hours. That sorta defies the purpose of cutting back on hours. Have you ever felt like the weasel in the song Pop goes the Weasel : "Round and Round the mulberry bush, pop goes the weasel" I am the weasel and I am being chased by Life...hmmm...no really, I am finally starting to get adjusted to the high pace....give me strength. Besides the hard work, frustrations and worries that go along with life, a few good things have happened: I've finished three really good books.

The Great Irish Potato Famine by James Donnelly,
Gods, Graves, and Scholars by C. W. Ceram, and
The Burning of Bridget Cleary by Angela Bourke.
I recommend these books to anyone interested in history and the past. They are quite engaging, well written and not at all the usual snore.

It's funny though...I've barely kept up with the reading in my University classes....whew! You wouldn't believe the extreme load. I must be gaining a reputation in the University two students came up to me in class and asked me to take notes for them....who do they think I am? Really, I can barely translate my own notes....I couldn't refuse...but I'm afraid they will be terrible disappointed at the results! Wish me luck! Hope to write again soon, maybe about something a little more engaging...Goodnight Cyberspace

Another Socrates In The Making?

Today in my Profiling Violence class the Professor cheerily announced "Instead of a term paper, I have decided to give you a creative writing assignment. Your task is to create a serial killer and do and extensive profile on him including background: childhood, parents, adolescence, and adulthood, Detailed Crime descriptions and any other pertinent additives. This assignment is meant to test your ability to understand the principles and idea of Profiling" Yet at the end of his speech, I got an itch on the back of my neck and a twitch in my eye....isn't this a bit disturbing. Serial killers exemplify a-typical, anti-social, Psychopathic behavior, that is ultimately dangerous because of its unpredictable and incomprehensible nature. Should we really be engaging a class of 75 college students to mimic this behavior...even as a creative writing assignment? To think of horrible exotic crime is half the danger, Yet isn't freedom of expression, thought and creativity what we have a right to in the United States under the 1st amendment? Hmmm...will the dean of students see this coming? Will our lovely professor be put on trial for exciting the youths of the University? Hopefully, these questions are all the over dramatic musings of a bored College student....Goodnight Cyberspace

Odd Decor

I look around my room. Finding my eyes wandering tither and ho...and back again. What does this room say about me? What would a person think if they saw it? Better yet, what if they then tried to decipher it? Is it indicative of my personality? First of all it is a cluttered, disorganized, mumble jumble of items collected over the years of my life. Center stage is a huge Pink Satin drapery...just about the color of bubble gum.. Stage right is a pink silk robe hanging on a hook attached to the back of the door. I never wear it, but it matches the curtain. A necessary accessory. Stage left a huge steamer trunk circa very old with a small 15 inch TV perched atop. Further left a dresser stacked with books, markers, color pencils, paints and albums. Against the Far wall a cedar chest, a Stereo cabinet, and a book case. Stacked with a cityscape of book skyscrapers, knick knack parks, school paper houses and odd alley ways of miscellaneous treasure (a.k.a rubbish). Find a place with free space, its impossible every inch is meticulously used like a University parking lot...even a few naughty items double parked. Upon the walls occupants range from rare Russian Orthodox icons to The Virgin of Guadalupe sharing space with Abstract artwork in brightly bold colors, Oriental paintings and a pin up poster of a Bengal Tiger from a children's magazine. Royals and commoners alike lay claim to wall space, a huge Charcoal drawing of an eye and nose...hmmm stares at A war productions poster of Rosie the riveter....she is my hero. Oh...wait one must not forget the ominous statue of Buddha beside the Bodhi tree...several Chinese dragons...and a huge martini glass with Olive my Betta fish swimming in it all crowding small shelves hooked to the wall with braces and hooks. What would you say my personality is? Make a guess....it could be terrifying...

21st Birthday Plans

Without a doubt your 21st birthday is quite a milestone. Yet isn't every year along the path a milestone. I don't know one person who has turned 17 twice or 32 three times. Each year you reach, you will never reach again except in the depth of your dreams. Introspection leads me to question whether I should be that excited about my 21st birthday. My Mother sweetly asks, "Darling, what would you like to do for your 21st birthday?" My thoughts center on the facts surrounding my birthday I have to be at school the whole day till 6, half my family will be gone 4 days before my birthday, the other half will leave to go on a cruise the day after my birthday. So what I am suppose to plan my own birthday party for them to all enjoy as they stop their busy lives for one hour? Sorry, I don't think so. I'm thinking about sending out invitations with the following inscription "I was born 21 years ago, October 16th 1986, On a day like any other, Thanks Mother, Thanks Father, without you, I would not be, please send any money you would spend on gifts in an Envelope to the charity of your choice" Do you think that would be offensive? I'm a firm believer that the only reason to celebrate is to be the company of Good Company and Good Food, otherwise I always have my new best friends Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, Captain Morgan and Jose Cuervo. Who knows I just might set sail with Captain Morgan and never leave dry land....but seriously, just buy me pound of coffee and a jug of Irish cream...who needs anything else. I don't ever want to be drunk and I am not a particular devotee of any liquor cult...My question is why don't we make the 21st milestone be that of a person being old enough to take up a cause or begin to donate blood...this special holiday to celebrate coming of age to consumer liquor...doesn't really appeal to me...any one can drink a beer, but home many of us can say we have donated 20 gallons of blood?

Vacation Time Already....Trust me I am Sure

Schools been in not yet two weeks, but already I was in search of a getaway. Three hundred pages a night, even the first day! Its an outrage, there should be a law against it. In order to save my summer burnt brain, I did the responsible thing....NO I didn't read, I left Thursday night for a long weekend at the coast. Who needs money? I have a credit card. One of my favorite coastal artists Rosi Lusardi is unveiling a new exhibit "In a Different Light" at the Gallery at Marina Square in Morro Bay. That's a good enough excuse. Rosi Lusardi specializes in fused glass and paper weaving collages they are spectacular! This new exhibit is of masks...replica African masks that are done in brightly colored glasses fused with silver, gold and other sparkling foil papers...they are uniquely remarkable. She is such a small time artist that her most expensive piece was $475. Except for the exhibit the trip turned out to be more of a hassle than school. My hotel was beside the freeway and cars zoomed up and down the freeway all night, and someone had a drinking party next door. Would anyone think I was crazy if I came home early? Wait...is that a Starbucks across the street? Maybe the day is looking up...

What Will The Icons Of Our Time Be?

What will our century be remembered for?
Will we be enlightened? Primitive? Destructive? Bloody? Genocidal?
Social disorder,
Genocide,
Environmental destruction,
Divorce,
Abuse,
Death,
War,
How about Hiroshima and Auschwitz? Have we done anything in the years after WWII to further the advancement of Humanity? Not technology, but to further Ethical behavior, Human decency, Equality, Respect? To bring health, to end suffering, to insure life?

"What will intelligent people one hundred years from now regard as the icons of our times?" (David Blumenthal)

I don't want to be remembered as a citizen of the only country to drop an atomic bomb. I don't want to be remembered as the person who watched others starve as I ate and got fat. I want to be remembered as a human, who worked to empower the humanity of others by remembering and taking responsibility. Yet, I must be remembered as this person who was apart of this as all human must, in order for the memory to live on. David Blumenthal asserts that in order for humanity to respond to human suffering we must feel guilt and responsibility for what happens in the world. He rightly asserts that the icons for our century will be Hiroshima and Auschwitz because the terror of these events and their effects on our lives far out ways any advancements that have been made. With out identifying with victims, how can we ever come to know them. Be with me, stand beside all victims, all those who starve, need, cry, hurt, and die, feel and be horrified for them, so that we can find cures, solutions and ends to their many sufferings.

A Few Good Tips For College Students

Some of these tips are from personal experience, a couple in retrospect watching of friends, but mostly reflection on my last year of College. Honestly, I just wanted to collect some interesting things I have discovered:

Fun Tips:

1. A free lunch from a credit card company is never free
2. Credit cards may come in bright colors and promise big rewards, but the fees are brighter and bigger
3. Expensive books don't always mean Big pictures, but can be bought for half price from other students
4. Professors may have PHDs but that doesn't make them God
5. Sell ideas, not your soul to classes
6. Make Professors work hard, they make you work hard
7. Don't decide to send a nasty email to a professor until after the Final Exam
8. Just because you don't see the Campus Police checking for parking permits doesn't mean they don't
9. Going to the pub after failing an exam is a recipe for disaster
10. Motorcycle parking really is for Motorcycles
11. A speed bump at 55 mph or faster will ripe the exhaust pipe right out from under most mid-size cars

A little more serious:

1. Alcohol may seem like a good remedy for stress, but really it just creates more problems
2. College is the only time in your life where you get the chance to soak in so much knowledge, people, activities and networks don't waste it by partying to hard
3. Grades are insignificant measurements of learning and only follow you for a short time, Integrity or Dishonesty will follow you for the rest of your life.
4. College is 10% work, 50% using your head and 40% showing up
5. Just because your an adult doesn't mean give up on your Parents
6. Keep an Open mind, Don't forget where you came from and Leave your drama at home
   

50 First Days!

The title is only a reflection of a friendly recommendation gone wrong. Frankly, I hate Adam Sandler. I find his humor frequently obscene, x-rated and prejudice. One night a friend invited me to watch 50 first dates, I had no idea he was one of the stars or I would have made up a creative excuse. Forgive me! Friend accuse me of being a prude, stuffed shirt and in the most extreme cases an old lady, they may be right. Yet, I'd like to think of myself as appreciating culture, tact and genuine entertainment. Decide for yourself: my last movie rentals were "over the hedge" "the ghost and Mrs Muir" and Vincent Price's "House on Haunted Hill", the last horror movie made this in the last 7 years I have watched was the new "House on Haunted Hill" I still have nightmares, I get recommendations of books and movies from my Grandparents. Really, Life is about enjoyment, don't feel your mind or your time with disturbing horrific images look for truth, dignity and worth. Any way this is sort of a disjointed blog post....I just have a few thoughts and worries to mull over. I realized that unlike in grammar school, middle school, junior high, and high school where you only have one first day for the whole year, In college you have several first days depending on your course load. I have 4 first days, that is so unfair. 4 new professors, 4 new groups of students. Its quite exciting, but nerve racking. I worry that I have taken too many hard classes together or managed to get a professor with a chip on his or her shoulder. My biggest problem is I worry...Well....that is enough worrying tonight...its off to Irish history tomorrow morning. Give me a speedy commute with safety, Hot coffee, nutritious breakfast and intelligent stimuli. Goodnight Cyberspace...hope that tomorrow I have better things to add to the mix.

1st Day Of School

Like a blank page, the new school year starts...with felt tipped colored markers for notes to keep the mind awake, colored folders for classes so papers don't take trips and notebooks for more notes so the notes stay together for the long haul. Tomorrow marks the first day of my last year of my Bachelor degree. Its somewhat disturbing and liberating at the same time. I have worked so hard to reach this point, yet I am waiting for something to go wrong. Some requirement forgotten, some class misplaced, money not paid, papers missing signatures. The anxiety of the last year rivals that I felt the first year. I wonder if....I have planned, saved and done all that needs to be done. I pray that I have, this last year will be the hardest, squeezing in the last general education, checking transcripts, grad checks, getting approval for AP Exams. I pray that I find refuge from the stress that I feel now. Uniquely I am very excited over the prospect of Irish History, Religion and Moral Choice, Archeology, and Profiling Violence....Powers above, give me strength and fortitude to continue and succeed. Goodnight cyberspace, I want to be rested for my early morning commute of an hour. Give me one morning of no traffic, hot Starbucks Nonfat 1 pump mocha, extra shot and a 7-grain bran muffin....Welcome the Fall, a new school year begins...only 1 month till my 21st birthday!

Refuge...From...

In a world where chaos, selfishness, desire, pain, greed....the many human weaknesses flourish with ravenous speed. I look hard in the hope of discovering places of refuge. Refuges where peace can be sought if only in a second. At times they are far and in between. Sometimes the only peace I can find is in the confines of a brief glance. Life is a mumble jumble mess of to and fro movement, here and there constant noise. One can loose themselves and all they believe in an instant. I look to family, friends, neighbors, people on the street, writers of blogs.....anywhere. An Oasis in the desert of the hustle and bustle, where the thinking mind delves into the true self. Self exploration, Compassion, Empathy, Beauty, Creativity.....spots of color among all the gray. Rosebushes are a refuge from the rows, blocks, yards of square well watered and manicured plots of lawn. Almost like coffins waiting to be buried in plots of cement, with mourners all alike standing in mournful attendance....I can't stand tract housing. Tract housing eats up farm land, animal habitats, peace and quiet, spoils the water, clogs the streets....and for what...to destroy just one more refuge. Today they broke ground with gleaming golden shovels on one more tract of a 100 or so houses. People need houses, but why empty out houses and move to little burbs outside of town? To waste more gasoline, leave ghost neighborhoods, string out Albertsons and Starbucks into the prairies...why not slow down...plant roses and fix what makes the city an impossible place to live. How about creating communities, neighborhoods and parks where people don't have to wear bullet proof vests or carry pepper spray? When will the world see that humanity needs refuges of the mind, the body and soul.

How Blue Can You Make Me?

Honestly, All those who hate blogs that rant about the world, family and life in general...you might want to ignore this post. I intend to rant about Selfishness. Tonight I came face to face with a Mother and Father who care for nothing other than themselves. They ripped their son from our home to take him out on the street. They have no home, no food, no money. They took him from our home out of vindictiveness because they were angry that My Father couldn't allow them to do drugs and drink in our home. They are using that boy as a bargaining chip. They are so selfish they think of their addictions and wants before his safety and sanity. Its understandable that they need time to work out their lives, but not at his expense. He needs stability and love. In his whole life he has never been a top priority, numero uno, but last to least . How dare any parent put themselves first when they make a life! When two people share intimacy and create life, its not a mistake that can be wiped away and forgotten. When that child is allowed to grow, mature and become a person, no one has the right to use him as a tool. To work a system, to build guilt or blackmail people . I young life is a precious thing, where dreams, imagination, and promise bloom. V.F. the boy, has high hopes of joining the coastguard and saving people someday, yet his Father and Mother want to take him out of school and football practice...for what? For selfishness, just to punish My Father. How can they be so cruel to their son? My Mother's tears flow uncontrollably, she feels sick with worry about this young boy that she has grown to love and care for. I have so much more I'd like to say, but I will finish before I continue. I am stopping now in order for anyone who reads this not to think of my words but to think of the boy, V. F. , He is a human being just beginning with his whole life ahead of him. How dare his parents put his life on hold so they can fulfill hedonistic urges! Responsibility, Respect, Compassion and Love, Remember and Use your heart and Your mind! REMEMBER THE CHILDREN!

Fresh Basil!

I love Basil! With a scent sweet and spicy. A flavor reminiscent of anise. My taste for Basil has matured into an addiction. I eat Thai two days a week during the fall, winter and Spring quarters. I don't know how I survived before, if you've never tasted a true Thai curry you haven't lived. Do you know that Basil makes or breaks a true Stir Fry, Pad Thai, and Curry? Now I am the proud owner of Cinnamon Basil, African Blue Basil, Holy Basil, Red Basil and Italian Basil. Who knew that it was more than just a spice? That it was powerful, amazing and beautiful. Basil has a powerful history riddled with myth and holiness. To certain cultures it is holy herb that can heal, protect, and bring good fortune. The etymology of 'basil' comes from the Greek word for King: its fabled that Basil grew on the spot where St. Constantine and Helen discovered the Holy Cross. Basil is the symbol for love in Italy (I wish someone would send me a bouquet of Basil) and hatred in Greece. Religiously it purifies water in the Orthodox church, revered as holy by Buddhists and Hindus. Jew's believe basil strengthens resolve during fasting. African mythology asserts that basil wards off scorpions in the desert. Mysteriously Basil in many cultures protects one after life providing them safe passage to the underworld. Never eat to just eat, Eat to Live! Know what you eat! Life is more than what meets the eye!

Raise your hand!

Raise your hand if you are as angry at 1 800 numbers, computer animated voices and the phrase:"All our operators are busy, please hang up and try this number later" I have called three offices, the University Financial Aid, Dell Tech support and University Registration office. All three times I heard that phrase 6 times trying to get a hold of someone. Finally I gave up...then the semi-colon key fell off my laptop.....Please what have I done to bring this upon myself? So in order to stop myself from complaining about my ADD cousin yanking the key of my laptop or about the Financial Aid debacle, I have decided to stop right here and not write a word more until tomorrow.......its too depressing....

Its Bath Time For The Baby...

No, I don't have a baby...I have a chihuahua...is there a difference? Don't laugh so loud! Honestly, he is as much a responsibility as a child. I have always been a 'big' dog fan: Rottweilers, Mastiffs, Chows, German Shepherds never teeny tiny ones. Then out of the blue, I get a chihuahua puppy from a friend. I couldn't resist him...he is chocolate brown...a dog that is the same color as a dark chocolate Hershey bar...is after my own heart. He fit in the palm of my hand. Chico is now in his 8th year he is 10 times as big and 10 times more trouble. Every year he gets a cold during the summer that is if I don't cover him up at night from the cooler. He will get heat stroke if he lays in the sun too long. Yet, he is a 'big' dog at heart...he will take down a pit bull or a pile of rattlesnakes if given the chance. I've had to save him from his ego a few times. He braves dark halls, bullies the cat, chases the PG&E and mail man...yet he cries like a little baby when he hears the sink water. He hates water...rainwater, ocean water, puddles or hoses. They all feel him with disgust. He tiptoes across the car wash water puddles and will not go outside if its raining. Today he gets his once every two week bath and now he is hiding his head in indignation. He will milk a piece of chicken or ginger snap out of me before the night is over. His eyes bring me to my knees. Where is my dignity? I gave it up for a chocolate pup....Pobrecito!

Starbuckian

Without a doubt I have an addiction. I fight it daily, starting with the first few drops falling from the coffee pot. The smell of fresh ground coffee sends my tastes buds into a tizzy. With too many cups I will be a bit dizzy. I must watch my intake....yet the devil snared me with a magnificent trap a.k.a. Starbucks. Don't let them fool you, it wasn't God or his court of heavenly angels that devised the plot of a shop where one could obtain both chocolate and coffee in every form imaginable. How is one so very human being suppose to survive when faced with decadent mochas or Chocolate covered coffee beans. If there ever was a sin built to lead the strongest will astray its their perfect blend of chocolate and java. There should be a clinic for those of us who just can't afford 4 dollars a cup....Its bad enough that when the clock strikes ten I am one my walk just down the block to find another cup. I must draw the line when I find myself washing pockets of these choco covered beans and wondering if they are still edible. Between classes...at the end of the day I'm wondering if there is a way to hit Starbucks before I close my eyes. I must confess my problem is quite embarrassing when I pay my credit card and the statement reads Starbucks from top to bottom. A twinge of pride should make me smile when I hear that Starbucks is a fortune five hundred company.Why? I helped them get there. My face turns crimson when I drive to the window and the Barista hands me a cup before I order. This must come to an abrupt end, I have to take a stand and ban this product from my system. As a reward for my virtuous stand I think I might just take a break for an Iced Cafe Orange Cafe Mocha made with Nonfat milk. I will work harder tomorrow.

Grandma's Anniversary

People scurry to and fro, back and forth, left and right, all packaged chaotically in a small home. The heat is unbearable, the swamp cooler just won't do the trick. Hey Mom how about we go buy a block of ice and drop inside? People murmur loud and quite about memories from the past. Some sitting close on dinning room chairs, others lounging on the couch, a few squished uncomfortably in white plastic patio chairs used on these occasion as living room furniture. (The Genius of Rednecking it!) Two sets of Grandparents sharing stories of times far forgotten in the minds of the youth present. One of the youth sets hanging on every word (that's me) just trying to capture these memories for herself, Another types away on a aged laptop trying to play dogfights with slow Internet, the last two set arms intertwined with thoughts of loving on their minds. Conversation drifts from Oil Derricks to Missions.

Finally the Feast is set with BBQ chicken, Potato salad, one dish that might still be alive brought by an Aunt that you just smile and pass by, beans with no spice, and bread that wasn't cut through the bottom crust so that half a dozen dinners must wrench loose hot chunks of garlic buttered toast. As dinner comes to an end the Family searches for a delectable dessert but all come up blank. I wonder do they not realize their is no dessert. Grandma and Grandpa whose anniversary it is move their eyes to me....Grandma says, "Wheres my Anniversary cake?" Wide eyed I answer, "We have no cake" Grandma smiles with a twinge of irritation, "Your fired" The group bursts in to laughter but Grandma keeps that expression of hurt. I race to the Kitchen for a Cupcake or Snack cake anything that will satisfy the sweet tooth of an old woman. Finally in desperation I break my Organic Dark 70% Chocolate bar in half and present it to Grandma and Grandpa with smiles and laughs. Yet, Grandma can only wonder, "Is this sweetened?" A wayward Aunt goes into the kitchen looking for any remnants of the Chocolate she didn't share. Sorry, there isn't a bite more......I will never again not make a cake....I love my Family. Welcome to the Family!

What If All We Had Were Muskets?

What if Mr. Winchester had been a bridge engineer, Smith and Wesson were cookbook writers like Betty Crocker ? What if AK47s , bazookas were slang for chocolate bars or pretty girls? What if we all still used black powder guns? Would there be drivebys?

Just Think: "Ok boys, ready the powder horns stuff those wads and balls down....don't forget to powder them good" says the leader driving the low rider Cadillac pimped up with top notch gray primer. Hands and arms rush all over. One gangbanger looks to the other, "Have you seen my powder horn?" The other looks at him and says, "Man I don't swing that way" The leader says, "Hurry up boys, don't forget to set up the next round....don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes" he whispers. The others set busily readying their muzzle loading muskets. "Come on hurry up here comes the that lazy no good Crypt, we need revenge for our Blood brothers" said the Leader once more as he slowed down. The muskets explode off and the bangers start to reload. By the time they raise their muskets for the next shot the Fuzz is on them like fleas on a dogs back. Causalities....no one, the whole neighborhood is awake and their are 100 witness down the block of the shooting...

What a world? One would wonder if it would be worth the effort.....if all we had were muskets? Something tells me life would be a whole lot safer.
Laugh, Love, Live and Lounge don't Shoot, Starve, Strike or Stab!