Sunday, May 22, 2016

My Left Arm - A Ken LaRive Feature


Note from Ken LaRive at LaRive's Facets - At no other time in my life do I see an election being more important. Since 2007 I have tried to understand why we the people have so little influence, and how our country continues to slip from our grasp.

There are powerful scientific designs to control us from cradle to grave, and the working of massive computers orchestrating our slavery to the nanosecond, and yet, in our final hour, we cannot come together to make a singular decision.

Unless a leader of unprecedented talent and moral compass manifests, surely America will fall. This indeed, will be something like a miracle... We have doubled the national debt in just seven years, and international banks are eating us alive from the inside out.

In my quest for an answer I discovered the amazing teachings of Dr. Ron Paul, and had hoped the American people might wake up to his very profound predictions, now manifesting itself after almost thirty years of warnings.

As of yet, nether he, or his son Rand have been accepted by the American people, and they have failed to produce the spark that will unite us for a common goal.

Donald Trump is not a Libertarian, and I really don't think he understands the philosophy... but he does know business, and the dealings of the powerful elite, who have us by the throat. He could be our saving grace... He could indeed turn this country in the direction where a future president may in fact give us back our Republic, and civil liberties.

He might be just the man to face the monsters perched inside of our own White House. The following is a muse of ideas, thoughts and opinions, metaphors and facts... in a feeble attempt to hit home. When all is lost, one thing will always remain, hope.

And so I give you . . . My Left Arm

My left arm isn't as powerful as my right, and not nearly as accurate throwing a ball. It can't hold a pen or fork properly, no matter how hard I try, and only attempts to shake hands when my right arm is busy carrying something.

It seems to try to mimic my right arm in gestures sometimes, but hardly ever instigates a wave of hello or goodbye. It has, however, abilities all its own, and seems to be directed from an entirely different part of my brain. My left arm is different from my right, but without a doubt, just as viable.

Though my right arm pulls the trigger on my rifle, my left arm subconsciously steadies it for the shot. It's not worth a darn using a tennis racket, but without it flailing in the opposite direction my right arm would have little power and balance.

We always wrestle our strongest arm, reluctant to challenge a southpaw, but what is thought to be brute strength in my right arm, my left arm makes up in stamina. Yes, we are hard-wired to choose the more versatile, the stronger of the two, and I guess that is a survival technique... but how many times in the course of a lifetime has our left arm saved our bacon?

It is traditional that my watch is on my left arm, and the little pink patch under it shows what my skin might look like without sun.

My wedding ring is there too, amazingly displaying my honor, fidelity, and love.

Must be a reason for this... and it might just be the romantic in me, but I think the left arm is more stable, more . . . . click here for the rest of the story

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