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Tag Archives: Corruption

Medicina occidental no es salud

28 Friday Aug 2020

Posted by Bill Watkins in Español, La medicina occidental, Mexico, Poetic Blog, Salud, Western Medicine

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Amor, Corruption, Covid, Covid-19, EEUU, Joy, Love, Medicina Occidental, Mexico, Panic, Paz, Peace, Salud

doctor1

Hay una separación entre diferentes cosas, un espacio en el diccionario entre palabras.  Pero con el tiempo, las palabras se mezclan, los conceptos se difuminan y cuando hay dinero en juego:

El monopolio sigue siendo el nombre del juego.

Raid gobierna el negocio de insecticidas porque su nombre se convirtió de alguna manera en sinónimo de… “insecticidas”.  Windex rige la limpieza de ventanas porque su nombre irrumpió en nuestros cerebros para ejemplificar y convertirse en… “limpiador de ventanas”.

Introduzca la medicina occidental.  “Ciencia” moderna, hospitales, esterilidad, extracción de sangre y microscopios.  Batas blancas, cuentas grandes, pero bueno, eso es lo que se supone que cubre el seguro, así que marque el “911”.  Drogas, drogas, drogas… respaldado por títulos, doctorados de filosofía, doctorados de medicina, universidades con mucho dinero repartiendo diplomas que seguramente brillarán en las paredes.

Si alguien dudara de la autoridad del gran médico y de su decisión, se puede señalar los títulos, los diplomas que brillan en las paredes, los doctorados, los doctores en medicina y las grandes universidades repartiendo no solo papel, sino… Autoridad.  “Tienen razón porque son médicos”, “Son los expertos”, y otras apelaciones similares están justificadas por la educación en Ciencias con una C mayúscula, del tipo que puede ser extremadamente lucrativo si todos están convencidos de los hechos que usted en una bata blanca arroja.

Pero, ¿qué es la salud?  ¿Son la salud y la medicina occidental lo mismo?  ¿Dónde está la separación?  Para gobiernos como Estados Unidos, México y los políticos que los sirven: no hay separación.  La medicina occidental ES salud y el dinero público la respalda como mamá grita: “No olvides comprar Raid en el mercado”.

“¡Y algo de Windex también!”

Los departamentos de salud de todo el mundo moderno están comprando los elegantes diplomas en las paredes, convencidos de sus “expertos”.  Dios, la espiritualidad y la religión es el engaño de hoy, y cada día que pasa es empujado más y más al montón de chatarra.  Samuel pidió un rey humano, los presidentes nacionales son deificados junto a los médicos y, de repente, aparece un nuevo virus en Asia como prueba de esta versión aparentemente grandiosa y llena de expertos de la difusión de la salud.

Excepto que las herramientas médicas modernas no incluyen la fe.  Fe en Dios, fe en nuestro cuerpo dado por Dios, fe en la naturaleza para sanarnos, fe en el amor, fe en la unión, fe en la sobriedad, ¡en vivir días positivos, valientes y equilibrados, un día a la vez con gratitud y gusto!  “Si Dios está por nosotros, ¿quién contra nosotros?” San Pablo reflexionó en una carta a los romanos.  ¿QUÉ puede estar contra nosotros?  ¿Un virus?  ¿Es un virus más poderoso que Dios, un ser para la mayoría el Creador de todas las cosas, incluidos los virus?

No para mí.  No para los científicos cristianos.  No para personas que creen en su propio sistema inmunológico sobre una máscara de papel.

¡El pánico está en marcha!  Un momento triste para las personas con fe, observando todo el miedo, esperando que Dios pueda intervenir, restaurar la cordura, traer la paz… La medicina occidental no es salud.  Es solo una marca, como Raid es una marca de insecticidas y Windex es una marca popular de limpiacristales.  Hay otros, más baratos, que también funcionan, algunos que incluso podrían ser mejores.

Tengo un médico al que llamo Dios, y no busco consultorios médicos abarrotados y con aire acondicionado que me cobran de más por sacar sangre de mi cuerpo, decirme qué me pasa y ofrecerse como la gran cura.  Me abstengo de las drogas, tanto las de la calle como las de los médicos.  El mundo está bien hecho, yo estoy bien hecho y sobrio.  Me propuse vivir un día increíble, equilibrado y amoroso, después del cual planeo agradecer a Dios y descender a un sueño feliz.

La tranquilidad aguarda a los verdaderamente sanos, un día a la vez.  Toma tu medicina occidental, si ese es tu camino… Pero deja de vendérmela, como si fuera la única para la salud.  ¡Al menos tenga la cortesía de definir usted mismo la palabra SALUD!  Lo pondré junto al mío, y ambos podemos admitir que la salud es personal, algo de lo que los gobiernos de todo el mundo deberían mantenerse alejados, como hacen la mayoría de los sanos con la religión.

La ironía.  La religión y la fe son mi camino hacia la salud…

The Horrible Sound of Helicopters

22 Friday Feb 2019

Posted by Bill Watkins in Poem, Poems, Poesia, Poetic Blog, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Corruption, Joy, Love, Native, Native American, Peace, Poetry

Vikings1

War is what the British waged,
came here for…

The Spanish from below and around
“west,” thumping bibles

and native skulls.

“Forgive them, Father; they know
not what they do” was written
in the book we thumped, as we
thumped the land’s caretakers.

No harm intended, harm done,
we rise and fall today not unlike
the stars and light, a dance of day
before we stretch into night.

I love the hope that is in a post-rain ‘bow;
the dream of age dies in sagging
parts not up for the challenge
of defeating God, faith and prayer.

Where is the truth?

In a bible?  A book?  A waterfall?
A stream?  A coat, given to me by
native tribes, so I would not starve
and die.

The first winter after our 1607
arrival, honoring the king and
the devil himself by ignoring the
pulse, love, soul and culture of
a vibrant, talented, loving, breathing
native people.

They were brown, naked and natural,
and in our books we wrote them down.

“The king will have us tame them;
and when we do, the riches below
their feet will be ours.”

“What of the Treaties?  The Peace?”

All is fair in love and war, and
we who usurp are just cursed, nothing
more;

just as the Jews who asked Samuel
for a king;

we are cursed like a Viking thing.

Unjustified Homicide

16 Saturday Sep 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Gun Control, Murder, Poem, Poems, Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

CIA, Corruption, Joy, Kennedy, LORD, Love, Peace, Raskolnikov, Samuel

There is never a “reason” to kill, only
sin and breaking the sixth commandment,
(if you’re into those) and if you’re not…

Welcome to Hell.

***

Raskolnikov knew it well, the Dostoevsky
character damned the moment he raised
the axe.

And the police officer does not need to be
ruled a murderer by a court to be that,
folks, the crime goes punished, I now
assure you.

It is wrong to kill—the ultimate judgment
of another human being as less than you
and not worthy to be here.

You are no one to make such a judgment,
police have no justification for murder,
not one, not ever.

The old argument was that if he had a gun,
I get to kill him.

I smashed that in another poem called
“The Old Argument,” look to non-lethal
weapons and real self-defense, yes the
kind without reckless preemptive Offense,
yes, the sanity and good actions that take
you to heaven.

Restraint, moderation, holding back and
humility. Restraining from judgment, from
rash irrevocable payback, you were scared,
pulled out a gun, shot, and said it was fine
because of your badge.

The “president” (not mine) talks of
“cowardly attacks,” the “losers” we created
abroad and at home that kill, created by
our judgments, our tweets, our covert
bombing in the night, extrajudicial murder
of suspects, and satellite targets in the street.

“Take him out” lauded and applauded in a movie
house as the Department of Offense kills
another suspect.

Nevermind the murder. Nevermind the family,
friends of the dead—never mind the rise of
worse terrorist acts in the place of your man,
“taken out.”

We need to think deeper, speak less, listen
more and pull the United Nations out of a
peace-hating United States.

That or hold God in our hearts, fire Samuel
and the message the Jewish people gave him
to have a king to be like other nations.

Make God our king (he or she’s already mine),
Bill Maher and other atheists neglected to
the dictionary read, where “God” is there in
black and white, no fight,

It’s a Good Concept, this G.O.D. if nothing
else, Good Orderly Direction and help for those
who feel a need to connect to a Higher Power
than me.

Believe what you want, think what you think,
reap what you sow and sow what you reap.

You cannot escape the punishment of killing
humanity, you can’t, you try when you tweet,
CIA bragging they can go where others can’t,
accomplished what others can’t—

like murdering our own president.

In 1963, we went from bad to worse, from
human elections to murder’s erection, the
sad transfer of power to the devil at the top—
CIA interventions.

LBJ a Vietnam puppet, a racist killer who signed
Civil Rights up to shut them up, who had to
put something on the board to hide his gory
sword, greed and gore, setting up a bombing
spell Nixon cherished, racism gathering steam,
gosh can we kill Jack Anderson, that kike reporter,
we’ve done everything else murderous and evil to
kill the American Dream!!

Hunt, Gordon Liddy and the boys from CIA, the
FBI under Hoover no peach, killing MLK and
Freedom of Speech, John Lennon in our
sights, Reagan must have a clear path to
murder all the kikes.

You can’t change the world, Lao Tu was right,
but you can try.

End all the violence in your own heart and
mind, that’s the real fight. Gandhi, MLK, from
Jesus and turn the other cheek.

Warriors without guns have the real balls on
the street.

Cowards you say. Cowards. Like relying on your
gun instead of your brain.

Losers. Losers you say. God bless you to
stop judging others, and I promise you won’t
be judged.

Until then, Trump, and all the bastards who
skipped the book in school:

Shhh! Stop talking. Talking without knowing
is for fools.

Take your gun and violent way of life, flush
it down the toilet, be a hero in Longfellow’s
strife, a poet in the night, be as the Arabs
who pack their tents at the end of a great day,
steal no more, Away!!

God bless us to books and what they contain,
Mrs. Chick’s effort, John Wooden’s peace of
mine, even his 2-2-1 fullcourt press if it helps
you with yours, mine is mine.

I love you in your sin, don’t get me wrong,
Cowboy, I was just like you.

I used to be a strong coward for the right,
in favor of dropping bombs on enemies
like they were not people, but flies.

I’m sorry to God for this, the LORD a great
forgiver if you give a chance, pray earnestly
from your knees, CIA, admit the sin, and see
and feel the pain no more,

Raskolnikov to Siberia but truthful, Sonya
loyal to his truth and sinning heart until
the end.

You ask why but you know—she sinned too.

We are nothing until we admit the truth.

Ye Without Sin

22 Tuesday Aug 2017

Posted by Bill Watkins in Blogs, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Religious, Spiritual

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Amends, Conspiracy, Corruption, Jesus, Joy, Lao Tzu, Left, Love, Native America, Native American, Peace, Retribution, Right, Right Wing, Slavery, Soros, Wyatt Earp, Zero, Zorro

Helicopters, trash and campaign
spending disrupt infrastructure and
safety, a policy not right or left tending,

Just normal politicking in the post-
Samuel era of boy kings and corrupt
cravings.

Losers.  Ye without sin may cast a stone
at your neighbor, call him or her perverts,
freaks, anything to make your pain seem
sweet, we can stop and breathe or just
keep swinging.

Heaven is a peace of mind, knowing you
did your best, John Wooden surely a
“globalist” because under God, he felt
we were all equal.

Jefferson committed the same sin, under
the haze of a time that allowed him not
one but regarding slaves closer to ten.

All statues should come down, recalling the
golden calves raised up while Jews ran from
Egypt, aspired to their promised land.

Moses up the hill, the masses erecting evil
and dancing not for God as David later did.

They shook their butts and drank the wine
of other gods, and were punished as we are
every day we believe a human leader will
“stand for us,” “represent us” or “say the right
thing.”

It starts with you.  Me.  Pray first, stay silent
if not inspired, but when the right words come
please say them.

“I know I always do,” Mary Poppins posed
and sang, knowing when to bow out, enough
being every bit as good as a feast.

Zorro, Soros, Zeros—whatever the infernal thing,
right wing conspiracy theories growing on the
internet wings.

Plowing through the hate already there,
Divisions create divisions, and the Devil
smiles—God allowing this self-same insanity
for so many years.

“You cannot change the world,” Lao Tzu posed,
And no we probably can’t.  Then we can when we
admit we can’t, a spirit takes over, our humility
grows legs and Wyatt Earp is born again.

“Stop doing that, sir, there are women and children
present.”

Take an action, never kill, Love your enemy, and it
sure would be neat if the United States of
America would stop stealing native land.

Perhaps we could pay our debts someday, moral
as well as financial, give lands back according to
the old treaties, create a better karma, warm up
that speech to tell today’s Samuel, when that
prophet marches up to speak to God, apologize
and repent.

Pay that twenty trillion dollars off, one month at a time
like we all privately do, then after native amends
look square at the descendant of Africa:

“Fill out this form, establish lineage to the sin
of slavery and receive this twenty thousand
dollar grant to travel home to Africa, visit, enjoy,
and…  We are sorry to have brought your ancestors
here in chains against their will.  We are sorry
for the beatings, the murder, the emotional
as well as physical abuse.”

On our way (we must have gotten sober by now!)
we certainly admit the CIA murdered JFK.

Covert CIA gets shut down, the democracy
makes more sense, God is back in charge, and
karma is back with us.

Don’t forget to apologize to the United
Nations and to the world for all the post
World War II meddling and violence.

Read the U.N. Charter.  “I know
I always do,” says Sacha Llorenti of Bolivia,
the most enlightened country in the world
if you judge by UN security council statements,
always ready to flash the Charter.

Law.  International, Federal, State, Local.

Teach it in schools, kids can handle code starting
at five years of age.

Better than bourbon and water, better than
school’s current cage.

(You know, the one that drove John Stuart
Mill mad, before he recovered to succeed)

Success a peace of mind…  Wooden supplied.

Heaven.  Be perfect as God in heaven is perfect.

Thou shalt not kill.  Ever.  Martial arts self-defense
is even better.  Use your eyes, sense.  I love you.

Wars are never won.  Killing is for losers, Trump.

—Love, William

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