Jimmy Kimmel: You are a child; a sad excuse for a 'man,' etc...

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Dear Jimmy Kimmel:

This is difficult for me to write, because I actually like your sense of humour and wit.  Nevertheless, just because I like you doesn't mean I don't think you're an idiot.

I suppose this blog post could be directed to the other late night talk show host dudes out there as well (Leno, Conan, etc.), but, Jimmy, you are the primary target for this particular rant.  So, Jimmy, if you and/or any of your fans happen to read this, please note that I am not looking for feedback.  

Jimmy, you seem to be spending a surprising amount of time on your show poking fun at quite possibly the easiest target of the century -- Mayor Rob Ford of Toronto.  A lot of your material in that regard is indeed funny, witty and brutal and typical given your disposition as a late night comedian.  And no amount of continuous ridicule and utterly disgraceful, shameful, embarrassing rhetoric could possibly be enough for Rob Ford, a man who continues to self-destruct on camera for all the world to see.

Rob Ford

I'm writing this to give you a bit of a different perspective, okay, so bear with me.  I have some questions for you.

Jimmy, if your mother, wife, child, friend or anyone else close to you perhaps suffered from a terminal brain tumour -- a tumour that affects certain parts of the brain in charge of regulating motor activity, cognitive function, social behaviour, speech, etc. -- would you treat this person the same way you treat Rob Ford??  You might be asking yourself, what the hell are you talking about, right?  I'm talking about the disease of addiction, and if you did your research/homework you would already know the information that follows...

Addiction is a brain disease -- it is a chronic, progressive, relapsing terminal disease.  It has no cure.  The pathology is very similar to that of cancer.  It can be successfully treated and even permanently abated, but only for  a certain percentage of those afflicted with the illness.  Rob Ford is in the early stages of this disease of addiction.  Unfortunately, many of the symptoms of addiction manifest behaviourally, not just physiologically.  In other words, in addition to causing damage to the physical body (liver, kidneys, brain, etc.), addiction affects cognitive function, behaviour, motor ability, intellect, sex drive, and so on.  Just like certain forms of cancer and a host of other illnesses, like Alzheimer's, strokes, etc.

Severe strokes also can cause a person to behave so erratically and bizarre, that those around such a person usually think he/she is 'crazy' or insane in some way.  But no, that is not the case.  These are brain diseases.  Are you starting to get an idea of what I'm getting at here?  The target of your ridicule, Rob Ford, is fully in the grip of a devastating, ultimately fatal illness.  And it is not so funny.  Yes, some of the actions caught on video, some of his ramblings to the press -- these things do appear to be funny when presented in a certain context.  If you're mother, wife, child, etc. was acting the same way, would you relentlessly ridicule them on national television.  Rob Ford has children, and their father could very possibly be dying.  Hilarious...

No, you wouldn't.  And none of it matters, b/c you guys love to poke fun at behaviour caught on film without any subtext or real context.  It's part of your job, and your viewers like it.  There are reasons for that.  Here are a few of those reasons, Jimmy...

Jimmy, you're a relatively unattractive man with a limited vocabulary and an fairly undeveloped intellect.  You're actually more like a child trapped in an adult male's body.  Like many of your viewers, and like many Americans, you never seem to grow up.  This is a big reason your country is continuing to self-destruct in an abysmal pit of greed, stupidity, gluttony, pride, nationalism and arrogance.  You do have a good sense of humour, and your comedy appeals to the large majority of children("men") who watch your show.  And, I admit, you are witty, but it's the kind of wit that appeals to your average couch potato.

Jimmy Kimmel

And, apparently, just like much of the rest of your country, you'll do anything for money.  Which, in your professional case, means "ratings."  Ratings equals money, yes?  Rob Ford is good fodder for ratings right now, which means more viewers and more ratings.....and more money for you.

If you had any balls at all, any inkling of a spark of courage, you would perhaps enter into a real conversation with someone like me.  But, since you don't know who I am, and neither do your viewers, this would not likely put any money in your pocket.  So this is a moot point.  Regardless, I would verbally rip you to pieces in about thirty seconds flat.  Ask anyone who knows me.  I'm worse than Teflon.  There's nothing you could throw at me that wouldn't come back at you 100 times harder.....relentless.  You would likely end up a suicidal child begging for mercy.  That kinda stuff is fun for me.  You see, I've already been to hell and back a few times....and survived.  As a recovering alcoholic and drug addict myself, I tend to stick up for those who suffer the same devastating disease that almost destroyed me.  I've written publicly about my experience with addiction.  I have nothing to hide.  Fortunately, none of my behaviour was ever caught on camera, but I've done a lot of the same thing my mayor Rob Ford is guilty of (oh, and yes, I live in Toronto by the way).

I've hit all the textbook 'bottoms' of addiction.  I've been to jails, prison, multiple rehabs and treatment centers, psych wards, hospitals, etc.  And I have nothing to hide.  I've gotten DWI's, I've been beaten up by cops, I even got pepper-sprayed at a strip club in Texas.  There's nothing you could say to me to cause the slightest bit of a change in my mood.  Because I'm a man, not a child...Jimmy.  I was a very sick guy, with very serious symptoms -- symptoms that manifest behaviourally and that apparently serve as humorous fodder for guys like you.  I was dying, I was suicidal and I lost everything and everyone.  I was even kicked out of the United States for prescription fraud.  I was also a lawyer, an entrepreneur, a husband, a father, a loving son, brother and friend to all.  But, I had an illness that robbed me of all the good things and that almost killed me.  Hilarious...

Anyway, I have a busy day, so for now, go fuck yourself -- at least you would be having sex with someone better looking than your ex-wife.  Now, remember, I do actually like you, so toughen up and take this talking-to like a man.  And, by the way, I'm not looking for feedback.  I'm untouchable -- you can't hurt me.  It's a good position to be in.  And grow up already, then maybe I'll buy you a coffee or something...

-peace/warm regards:
Jude Blues

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CNN, shame on you.

I'm getting really sick and tired of listening to journalists and news anchors -- who purport to represent an impartial, objective disposition-- heap judgement upon judgement onto public figures who have had a 'fall from grace.'

Rob Ford, mayor of Toronto, is the easiest target these days.  I watched Carol Costello (I think that's her name) on CNN a couple of days ago asking one of her guest pundits, "Why isn't this man in jail; why hasn't he been charged with a crime; he's publicly admitted to smoking crack, why hasn't he been arrested???"

Carol Costello

First of all, Ms Costello, you need to tone down the cosmetic facial surgery -- it's starting to show a bit too much through the hi-def TV screen.  You need to pace yourself, my dear, with those collagen or botox injections or whatever the hell it is you're doing to make yourself look like Ms. Potato Head.

Second of all, stop asking stupid questions.  A journalist in your position -- a relatively powerful position -- has millions of Americans tune in every morning to watch the 'news' and many of them  actually agree with you and your opinions.  So, when it comes to stupid questions, your should really do your homework before spitting indignation in every direction.  You need to learn the answers to said stupid questions before asking them in such a dramatic, exasperating way.

Here's the deal, at least in the U.S., Canada and any other constitutional democracy (with very few exceptions).  It is not against any law to simply admit to using drugs.  This should be pretty obvious, and the fact that someone who has reached the position of CNN news anchor does not know that no crime has been committed upon the simple admittance or confession of the use of drugs, is sad, negligent and misleading.  Because the tone in which such questions are asked give the impression that the simple consumption of an illicit substance, whether it be crack cocaine, marijuana, prescription meds, etc. should be dealt with from a law enforcement angle.  But more importantly, it drives home the old stigma that those who have abused drugs are immoral, bad, shameful people.  This is a major component of the larger issue that results in the stigma of drug addiction  being perpetuated continuously in our 'civilized' world.  In other words, because that fat man said he smoked crack, he is a bad, bad human being and should be in jail.

Rob Ford

Ms. Costello, it is a crime to possess illegal drugs and it is a crime to sell or traffic illicit drugs.  It is not a crime to smoke, snort, inject, or otherwise consume anything, unless you can catch the person in the act while he/she is still in 'possession' of the substance.  So, no, you can't throw a guy in jail for saying "I smoked crack."  And to even imply that an obviously sick man should be criminally prosecuted for certain legal manifestations of a complicated disease (i.e., addiction), is irresponsible and reckless.

And to all of you other news people in positions of influence, stop the judgement already.  Not only is it hypocritical (I've personally seen and been around many media people who were wired on cocaine, MDMA, and assorted other treats, for example), but it is also false.  So cut the bullshit, look in the mirror and focus on the cracks in that made-by-botox face of yours and reflect on this for a moment.  Before you judge a sick man, try to fix your own sickness.

-peace/warm regards:
jeremy

Yeah, Happy Thanksgiving...sorta.

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Well Happy Thanksfuckingiving...

Let's see, I do actually have some things to be thankful for.  Like...basic necessities.  Food, shelter, etc.  I'm definitely grateful for those things.  And I'm thankful that the Ritz-Carlton hotel in downtown Toronto started serving its legendary hot chocolate this morning in the lobby.  I'm also thankful for the music that moves my soul and for the devices that inject the music into all the right places - the mp3 players, the serious headphones, the laptop.  I'm thankful there's a piano in my building's lobby, so I can tickle the ivories when I need some music therapy...

I'm thankful for the blues.  There's nothing like the blues.  When it's played to perfection, when you can feel the emotion pouring out of that guitar or that voice.  Like this guy (Clapton) on stage, for example.  When you've lived the blues - and I mean really lived the blues man....when you've lived the blues, there's nothing like listening to the blues.  So I'm grateful I have my blues music.

I'm thankful that my close family and friends are all healthy and okay in their lives.  It's very hard for me sometimes, up here in Canada, not allowed back into the United States (see Soul Cancer for more on that one).  I worry that if someone I love in the States is in trouble, or dying....you know? I can't just hop on a plane and get down there like I should be able to.  It's complicated.  It's not really fair.  And, of course, I always yell at the fucking United States of Bullshit for creating an obscure immigration law that swept me up in its web a few years ago....when I was deported to Canada, the country of my birth.  After living in the U.S. from the age of 6 to 37.  All for what?  For the stupid 'crime' of forging a couple of prescriptions for Vicodin while I was in the midst of the unrelenting grip of an opiate addiction.....It just seems so ridiculous to me that such minor nonsense can totally alter the course of a life.  People throw out platitudes like, "That's the Law," "The law's the law," "You break the law, you do the time." "Don't mess with Texas."  They're pretty serious on that last one.  Granted, I should stop the self-pity-party right now.  I own my behaviour and I'm moving forward...slowly.

It's scary to me when the large majority of an allegedly civilized 'society' is comfortable with the concept of putting human beings who commit minor nonviolent criminal offences in cages alongside violent criminals (i.e., 'real criminals').  For minor offences.  Because it's the law.  Because it's written.  It's statutory.  So it must be right, right? Right??  Just stick all the criminals in the same cage -- the psychopaths, rapists, pedophiles and murderers end up sharing cells with a tax evader or a guy who drove drunk one too many times or a wino who was caught shoplifting at the liquor store, and on and on and on.  I've seen this happen.  And it's ridiculous.  But it's the 'law,' so that makes it right, right?  RIGHT??

Wrong.  It's one of the biggest diseases currently infecting America.  The United States of Incarceration.  Incarceration Nation.  The same shit happens up here in Canada, but they're much more reasonable up here with regards to length of prison terms and such.  Up here, they don't do things like send non-violent, repeat criminals to prison for life sentences.  I read an article last week that said there's something like over 4,000 human beings currently serving life sentences in Unites States prisons for non-violent crimes.  How is this even possible?  Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.  I don't understand how judges can sleep at night when they hand out such ridiculous sentences.  Anyway, I digress...as I typically do.

So, yeah, I still have a little bit of a resentment about that little 'technicality' that totally shifted and altered my life in the blink of an eye.  I watch the international news channels talking about how America is back to it's old bad habits.  The government decided to print some more money, so the Fed is flush with liquid cash again.  And now this facilitates the big investment banks in loaning 'free money' again just like they did for years before the bubble burst in 2008.  When they got richer.  And they'll get richer again when the next bubble bursts.  So the income disparity continues to increase to the largest degree since before the Great Depression.  It's totally insane.  I mean I watch these 'pundits' on CNN talking about how they're destroying the country, and then they just shift topics like what's the latest on Lady Gaga or that storm system building up down the coast....the news.  LOL.  There's nothing new about the news.  Really.  It's just fear-mongering.  The media has devolved into an industry that serves up fear in just about every possible format.

They push fear into my email 'breaking news' updates.  They terrorize my Twitter feed with scary stories about something I need to keep watching so they'll get more ratings so the advertisers will pay more money to the....real people in control.  The few smart, devilish guys who really pull the strings.  In other words, the dudes with the most money.  Follow the money, and you will always find the ugly truth about this planet Earth.

Eh, enough for now -- thanks for letting me vent. I need to refill my coffee and go kiss a pretty girl.  And then I think I'll run for mayor...

-peace/warm regards
jeremy

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Soul Cancer

Did you know that your body is programmed to develop cancer and die? I know, it seems counterintuitive, but it’s true. This isn’t classified. It’s not a secret. If nothing else kills you, and you live long enough, you will get cancer. And die. The human body contains certain mechanisms that regulate the growth of cells. Our cells grow at a certain rate, and ultimately, with the passage of time, our built-in cellular growth-regulating mechanisms wear down and fail. When that happens, some cells start to grow uncontrollably. And that’s cancer. 

This means that cancer is perfectly natural. In other words, it is not a foreign ‘bug’ or virus. It’s more like a self-contained time bomb. This actually makes sense if you think about it. I mean, if the human experience is supposed to include the reality of mortality, it’s logical to assume that the body has a way of destroying itself at some point in time. Certain genetic or environmental variables can increase one’s risk of developing cancer earlier than ‘nature’ intended, which is why we have things like skin cancer and lung cancer and breast cancer. 

Cancer comes in many different ways and many different forms. It is capable of invading all parts of the physical body. Some cancers are worse than other. It comes in varying degrees of severity and complexity. It is a cunning adversary, and it is also very patient and powerful. And it has baffled doctors and scientists for many, many years. 

Cunning, baffling and powerful. Cancer. The exact same words – “cunning,” “baffling” and “powerful” – are used to describe alcoholism in the basic text for Alcoholics Anonymous.\

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I suppose any number of diseases, disorders and other medical maladies may contribute to a person feeling lonely and isolated. Sad and depressed and anxious and frustrated. And scared – absolutely terrified. Cancer for sure. Blindness. Severe burns. Obesity. AIDS. Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia and other ‘mental’ illnesses. Multiple Sclerosis. Assorted debilitating phobias. Amputations and congenital physical deformations. Stomach-related issues. Heart failure. Whatever. All kinds of horrible sickness. And on and on and on. However, the disease of addiction might be the only medical condition that actually intends to cause a human being to feel lonely and isolated and fearful. The specific aim of addiction – its actual modus operandi, for want of a better term – is to totally isolate a person. And then to kill the person. Alone in a room, usually a small, unpleasant room. Addiction, through its cunning and baffling tactics, methodically and progressively sets out to destroy its host. Sometimes quickly, but much more often very slowly and deliberately. Like cancer, addiction is generally defined by the medical community as a chronic, progressive, relapsing disease with no cure. It is a terminal disease that ultimately results in death – a very painful death. It can be successfully treated and even permanently abated, but only for a relatively small percentage of those truly afflicted with the illness. 

But unlike cancer – which left untreated will also completely destroy its human host and result in death – addiction negatively impacts and severely damages anyone and anything related to the afflicted individual. It severs relationships with loved ones. It tears apart families, businesses, and all manner of material property. It warps the lives of children. It results in bankruptcy, loss of certain freedoms and privileges. It is by far the largest contributor to jail and prison populations in Western society. Addiction is at the root of most domestic violence. It leads to endemic levels of suicide. Accidental and fatal overdoses. It often results in the death of innocent ‘bystanders,’ so to speak, in the form of drunk driving accidents, drug deals gone wrong, armed robberies, burglaries, and the list goes on. 

Addiction further burdens its host with the very heavy weight of an antiquated social stigma, derived from long-standing misconceptions and ignorance about the disease. Back in the days when nobody knew what addiction was, when such a ‘sickness’ was believed to be nothing more than a morality problem and a weakness of the will, the addicted were regarded as disgraceful reprobates, devoid of will-power. And these poor souls were judged accordingly. The sick and dying addicts were simply treated like any other categorically insane mental patient. They were often locked up in dungeons and asylums. Some were sent to live in exile on island colonies or placed on large ships that never made landfall. Addicts were deemed ‘lost causes’ who were quite a nuisance to civilized society at large. Presently, the collective scientific knowledge and wisdom about addiction is light years ahead of where it was just fifty years ago. Great advances in medical technology and increased sophistication in the speciality of addiction medicine have provided doctors and scientists in multiple fields of study the ability to demonstrate that addiction is an identifiable brain disease; the modern medical community has clearly shown time and time again, through all kinds of studies and clinical trials, that, at a biochemical level, the brain of an addict is literally hijacked by the addictive substance (e.g., alcohol, cocaine, heroin, prescription narcotics, etc.). In other words, when the addict is actively using his or her addictive substance(s) of choice, said addict loses control of the brain – a biochemical ‘hijacking’ that puts a monster at the control panel. Even when the addict decides to attempt a life of sobriety, the neuropathways in the brain have been forever altered, which effectively means that, on certain occasions – the most severe cases – in certain individuals, the brain is ‘hijacked’ before the addictive substance even enters the addict’s body. It’s an incredibly complex mechanism, but it does become quite clear and logical if one is simply willing to learn about this disease that plays a significant role in the destruction of modern society. 

Nevertheless, quite a large percentage of the ‘general public’ still believe that the only thing an addict must do to be cured is to merely make the choice to stop. That prisons are full of addicts who want to be there. That millions of otherwise perfectly rational and reasonable human beings would actually choose to suffer repeated, progressively worse, humiliating and ultimately fatal consequences brought about by addiction. That the homeless wino passed out on a park bench in a snowstorm just decided that it would be a good idea to die of exposure. It’s a tragedy that addiction causes so much damage to society in so many different ways, and it is because of that damage that the stigma is perpetuated. 

Nobody chooses to be an alcoholic. And no-one wakes up one day and says, “I think I’d like to become a drug addict. And then I want to give up everything I love for everything I loathe. Furthermore, I hope to spend some time in prisons and hospitals. After that, I think I’ll retire, penniless and alone and dig my own grave and die.” Yeah, sounds like a great idea...

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This story is a true tale of addiction and consequences. Addiction is a chronic, progressive relapsing disease. And that’s what I am – a chronic, progressive relapsing alcoholic and drug addict. Addiction personified – that’s me. No Hollywood rehab or celebrity crackhead or slaps on the wrist. No, no, no. This is real. This is addiction in its purest and rawest form – and it goes on everywhere – and its sick and twisted and angry and focused, and it causes so much more damage to society than most people can possibly comprehend. I truly think addiction is a cancer of the soul. In addition to all of the tangible, evident damage addiction causes to its host and everyone else, and once the afflicted individual has been rendered totally dysfunctional, the disease eats away at the very humanity of the sufferer. It kills the soul. It takes away everything about the person it afflicts – everything that makes that person more than just a physical shell. It eradicates dignity, self-respect, creativity, compassion, love, sex drive, appetite, intellect and anything else that makes the person who he or she is or was in the eyes of those who have known the person since the pre-addiction days. Once the addict has lost everything and gets to that point where he or she is holed up in that dark, lonely little room waiting to die, addiction continues to eat at what’s left. It takes away the desire to live. The will to continue existing in such an impossibly painful state of being. It takes away the soul. Soul Cancer.

My name is Rob Ford, and I am definitely.....an........?

Step One of the '12 Steps' reads as follows:  "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol (or cocaine, food, sex, money, whatever substance, behavior, just fill in the blank); that our lives had become unmanageable.

Step One is playing itself out right now, through the media, the press.  Our mayor.  Rob Ford.  It's all happening right now, in public, for all to see and witness.  This is textbook Step One.  The illusion that I'm still in control, still managing things, still showing up for work, still making money...for my city...

If I'm still 'functioning,' then I could not possibly be an alcoholic....or a drug addict...

Such a delusion.

Addiction is commonly defined as "continuous use of a substance, despite negative consequences."  I'm not sure anyone can argue at this point that our mayor has not experienced a few negative consequences, eh?

As we watch and observe and gawk at this theatrical spectacle of a circus going on at city hall and around the city, I can only feel sad for the poor bastard.  Not angry or even disappointed.  Just sad.  He's not in control.  Something else is.  Something far more powerful.  THE ADDICT is at the control panel of the Rob Ford machine, and it is doing exactly what it set out to do -- progressive, chronic......negative consequences piling up one after another after another after another until the man either dies or ends up in the hospital or other psychiatric institution or jail.  That's the exit strategy for addiction -- death, hospital, jails, psychiatric institutions.  Asylums.  Insanity.

Hopefully he doesn't have a heart attack.  I just pray that he gets help and survives.  After that, he might be ready for his first AA meeting...

-peace,
jeremy

A nice Jewish boy goes to prison...in Texas.

People are always asking me about my experience in prison in Texas. I spent over a year in a typical Texas 'Prison'. People ask me, "How did you get through it?" "Weren't there fights all the time?" "Didn't you have to fight and join a gang?" "Did anyone try to sexually assault you?" My experience was relatively mild. Below is an excerpt from my book Soul Cancer -- it's pretty much all I have to say about my time in prison.

Prison – Abilene, TX   (August, 2009 – July 2010)

I fit into the category of “white boy who really screwed up.”  There are more of us than you might think, but we’re certainly a tiny minority and we’re not all housed together.  So I’m kind of a novelty to the 53 other guys I live with in an open dormitory located in an unairconditioned tin building at a prison unit on a flat piece of dry land in west Texas.  We have a couple of TV’s – one is always on TNT or USA playing ‘Law & Order’ or ‘NCIS’ and the other is always on ESPN.  I rarely watch TV.  It’s pretty boring.  Some of the guys play dominoes or draw or write letters to people.  I exercise a lot, and so do many of the guys – pushups – tons of pushups – this particular prison unit is low on amenities, so we don’t have any exercise equipment.  Sometimes, albeit infrequently and irregularly, the guards let us out onto the ‘rec yard’ – a large fenced-in rectangular concrete space with a couple of basketball hoops and a volleyball net.  

I like to go out there and walk around and do pushups.  I try to do something physical everyday for the endorphins – I feel better when I do – they say you should “do your time -- don’t let time do you”, and to me that means I need to do things that help me feel better and sane and also kill some time.  So I do what I can and I guess I’m in pretty good shape physically – which means I feel pretty good mentally and emotionally – I don’t know – it’s all tied together.  I’m trying to come out of this thing as a good person, that’s what I decided.  This is an opportunity for me to really renew my life – renew through living.  

In prison they give you a job.  Everybody works.  You can refuse to work but it’s not such a good idea, especially if you’re trying to make parole – if you refuse to work then the parole board will look unfavourably on you and you will not be granted a parole – it’s quite simple.  So I work.  I work in the officer’s dining hall – it’s like a 24-hour diner for all the prison guards and other staff members (“other staff” includes non-prison-guard staff, like medical staff – nurses, doctors, dentists – and education staff – teachers, secretaries, assistants – and clergy – chaplains, bible-study guys, volunteers – and drug counsellors and maintenance workers and a few other administrative workers).  All these people can eat for free anytime they want in the officer’s dining hall (it’s officially called the ‘ODR’ which stands for Officer’s Dining Room).  The ODR is staffed by inmates like me – we cook, wait tables, wash dishes – all under supervision of course by the ‘kitchen bosses.’  The kitchen bosses are prison guards who work exclusively in the food-services department – so we all get to know each other pretty well and they’re an interesting bunch to say the least.  

Unexceptionalism

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Much of this is directly taken from a very critically acclaimed cable news program written by very smart people.  There's a profound scene from a recent episode, during which a university student, in an audience full of university students sitting in an auditorium for a symposium on news and current events, asks a respected and revered new journalist his opinion as to why he believes the United States is the greatest country in the world.  His answer sounds somethings like this:

"America is not the greatest country in the world anymore.  I don't know where you're getting your information from, and given that you're a university student at one of the more prestigious universities in the world, I'm somewhat shocked that the deluded concept of American exceptionalism still manages to pervade the dark recesses of your brain.

Because there is not one shred of current evidence, anywhere, objectively speaking, to indicate that America is the 'greatest' country in the world anymore.  And whoever said this was a fucking competition to begin with?  Grow up.

Here's a partial list of how we stack up on important metrics versus the rest of the modern world:  We currently rank 7th in literacy, 27th in math, 49th in life expectancy, 22 in science, 178 in infant mortality.

Where do we lead, you might ask?  Well, let's see, we lead the industrialized world in number of adults incarcerated in jails and prisons per capita.  We're also top of the heap regarding the number of adults who believe that fucking angels are real. We also lead the world in defense spending, where we spend more than the next 25 countries combined.

And freedom?  As if freedom is unique to America, or a warped sense of freedom is even accepted as actual freedom?  Well, guess what, Canada has freedom, the UK has freedom, Japan has freedom, Belgium has freedom, France has freedom -- 207 sovereign states in the world, and 180 of those have freedom.  And they all have free health care by the way.

The United States in years past used to stand up for what was right.  We used to wage war on poverty, not poor people.  We innovated, cultivated the world's greatest artists and the worlds greatest economies.  We aspired for intelligence, rather than belittle it.  We didn't scare so easily.  And we certainly didn't prioritize political correctness over the concern that certain groups of people might have their fucking feelings hurt as a sacrifice for national security.

We stood up for what was right, sacrificed for moral reasons. We acted like men.  We had balls, for Christ's sake.

The rest of the world views us as spoiled children who can't get our shit together.  So you ask me why I think this is the greatest country in world?  Are you kidding me?  Yosemite National Park -- it's a beautiful place, but it doesn't make us the greatest fucking country in the world.

The first step to recognizing a problem is admitting it.  America is not the greatest country in the world.  Period."

[As usual, for you poor souls in denial, I welcome you to look yourselves in the mirror for a few minutes and think about what you can do to recreate the greatness that was your country in years past, rather than bury your heads in the sand, and continue to live comfortably on the money that keeps you alive]

*Thanks Aaron Sorkin for the notes.

-peace/warm regards:

jeremy

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PAIN

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Let's talk about pain.  Pain comes in many forms.  Physiological, psychological, emotional.  We've all experienced pain in our lives and we all know that pain doesn't feel so good.  I've experienced all kinds of pain in my life, like anybody else.  These past ten years, in particular, I've really had quite an intimate relationship with pain.  We know each other well.  It's a part of me. From the totally debilitating pain of migraine headaches...to the psychological torture of prison...to the loss of dear friends...to the emotional hall-of-fame level pain via consequences of drug addiction and alcoholism...hunger, homelessness, psychosis...solitude, insanity and darkness.  Pain.  We all know pain.  And it hurts.

Recently, scientists have discovered that we also inherit certain forms of pain from our parents and grandparents, etc.  Geneticists and biologists have determined that the emotional pain experienced during traumatic events actually, in a way, get imprinted into our genetic codes and gets passed down generationally.  It's an interesting new field called epigenetics, and a lot of what they are discovering makes a lot of sense.

Ceiling? What ceiling? Oh, that ceiling...DEBT.

I highly recommend this to those governing the Disunited Pathetic States of America -- it's a 'quiz' taken directly from the website for Debtor's Anonymous:

1. Are your debts making your home life unhappy?
2. Does the pressure of your debts distract you from your daily work?
3. Are your debts affecting your reputation?
4. Do your debts cause you to think less of yourself?
5. Have you ever given false information in order to obtain credit?
6. Have you ever made unrealistic promises to your creditors?
7. Does the pressure of your debts make you careless of the welfare of your family?
8. Do you ever fear that your employer, family or friends will learn the extent of your total indebtedness?
9. When faced with a difficult financial situation, does the prospect of borrowing give you an inordinate feeling of relief?

Hi, my name is America, addict...

With numerous 12-step programs available to billions of people all over the world, I figure I should introduce America to the most applicable solution to most of its problems. As a not-so-anonymous member of Alcoholics Anonymous, I consider it my duty to carry the message of hope and recovery to the government of the United States, as well as many of it ailing denizens. 

The '12-step program' is currently available in many different forms and varieties, such as: Alcoholics Anonymous, Addicts Anonymous, Overeaters Anonymous, Gamblers Anonymous, Debtors Anonymous, Sex Addicts Anonymous, etc. There are many others, but I think you get the point. The 12-step solution available at these programs are all identical, with the exception of a few identifying words. For example, in Alcoholics Anonymous, 'Step One' is "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol; that our lives had become unmanageable." In Overeaters Anonymous, 'Step One' is "We admitted we were powerless over food; that our lives had become unmanageable." In Debtors Anonymous, 'Step One' is "We admitted we were powerless over debt; that our lives had become unmanageable." The remaining steps (two through twelve) are essentially the same, regardless of which 12-step subject matter is at issue.

The United States of Bullshit.......(yes, again)

I'm listening to Metallica's 'Black' album right now, quite loudly.  I find it to be a good way to get the morning started.  It also reminds me to release any repressed anger or frustration I might have floating around in the dark chasm of my mind, because if I let that stuff roam around freely, it tends to grow like a tumor and eventually the consequences of such a cancer become quite painful and deadly.

I think I'll pick on the United States today -- after all, it is one of my favorite subjects -- it's an easy object to rip apart, to chastize -- spank it like the big fat baby it has grown into.  It's like a big, fat, rich, spoiled three-year-old child with a penchant for temper-tantrums and a complete lack of ability to do anything to solve it's own problems.  Problems created by it's own imaginative private reality.

As usual, though, I have to point out that when I say bad things about the U.S.A., I'm not talking about the relatively few people I love, respect and admire who happen to live within it's borders -- prisoners unaware of the confinement in which they currently reside.  Most of my favorite people in the world are stuck living in America, so this is always an interesting subject of discourse.  Many of them are actually happy and comfortable living in the U.S. -- I used to be the same way.  My perspective has changed a bit due to my own life experience and intimate encounters with reality.

The Jimi Hendrix Hypothesis

Thank god for Jimi Hendrix...  I can explain...

We are living in strange times, yes?  Anybody over the age of, say 35, should be capable of demonstrating experiential, anecdotal synopses of living in both the 'Before' age and the 'Now.'

By 'Before' age, I simply mean a time prior to computers and machines and gadgets playing such a dominant role in our daily lives.  An age when we actually memorized dozens of phone numbers or wrote them down on our palms and in those little address books, because we had no alternative -- remember?  It wasn't so long ago, but it seems prehistoric.  Of course we hadn't yet been exposed to the digital 'contact list' of the 'Now' which requires us to remember nothing other than mostly first names and face pics.

The United States of 'Twerking' vs. Reality.......and American Idiots.

From time to time I take advantage of my unique perspective on the state of affairs in the U.S., given that I no longer view and gather information from inside the U.S., but rather from my perch here in Toronto, Canada, the most culturally and ethnically diverse city in the world.

After having spent thirty years in the U.S., and having the world's news/current events bombarding me solely through the all-American lens otherwise known as the U.S. media, these past three years in Toronto have provided me with a much more realistic picture of how the U.S. is regarded around the world by more civilized nations like Canada, Britain, Scandinavia, western Europe, etc.

The picture is not a pretty one.  I quickly learned that U.S. based media outlets are largely full of shit, for want of a better term. Nothing down there comes close to the level of intellectual reporting, relative objectivity and news gathering of, say, BBC or CBC. Even Al-Jazeera is more journalistically honest than the best the U.S. has to offer in the form of CNN, Fox News and others.  There are many reasons for this, the most obvious and glaring being the fact that private enterprise controls the U.S. news machine, and the private sector corporate behemoths only care about one thing -- MONEY.  In fact, they are legally obligated to do whatever it takes to increase the share price of their stock.  The result???  News outlets that feed the masses the kind of information that keeps them glued to the screens -- the TV, the smartphone, the tablet, whatever.  It's all contrived bullshit, typically engineered to keep the public in fear of the unknown.........so that they'll keep watching to see what happens next -- glued to the little screens.

This ends up creating a populous that in aggregate enters more queries on Google and Twitter for Miley Cyrus 'twerking' on the same day the U.S. is contemplating going to war in Syria.  A mass of people who seek comfort at places like 'Fatburger' and Las Vegas. Hookers and cocaine and guns and gangbangers.  Rich white kids buying 'music' created by street-corner drug dealers who fancy themselves as 'artists.'  Cyberbullying, suicide, entrenched racism that has nothing close to a solution in any of our lifetimes, and a litany of deep-rooted problems that nobody in the U.S. has the balls to properly address.  Political correctness is prioritized above reality, security, education, healthcare. All the politicos care about is that they don't offend the sensibilities of one group or another. In other words, they care more about 'hurt feelings' than actual democratic progress and success.  A bunch of fucking babies.

The most important news item for most Americans - this is a fact people.

This is one of those moments when I actually feel glad that I was deported from the U.S. to Canada (the country of my birth) in 2010 for my 'horrendous' crime of trying to pass a phony prescription for Vicodin (Percocet) in the U.S. while I was struggling with a life-threatening addiction to pain pills.  This,  after having lived in the U.S. for thirty years. I'm just one of many -- and you will soon be hearing from more of us -- who had his life turned completely upside down and destroyed for minor technical bullshit.

One.

The pen is my weapon
Music is my religion
The mind is my instrument
The body carries my soul
My soul has a voice
A voice has the power.

My friends are my deliverance
My enemies are my comfort
My comfort gives me knowledge
The knowledge I need to motivate me to keep working

My work is my relief
Relief in the knowledge
That one mind, one body, one soul, one power and one voice can change the world.

-peace/love
jeremy    

  

Life in Prison

Today I think I'll talk about life in prison.  As most of you know, I have significant firsthand experience and knowledge regarding this particular topic.  But I'm not going to talk about that kind of prison -- the jails, 'correctional' institutions, detention centers, or any other of the multitude of human warehouses which occupy a rather large allocation of government property throughout America from sea to shining sea.  Today, I'm talking about the kind of prison that almost anyone can relate to...

About an hour ago, as I was walking down King Street toward Bay Street in the heart of Toronto's financial district, I noticed a crowd of people snapping pictures with their smartphones of a man whom I can only assume was in the midst of some sort of performance art display.  The man was dressed in a business suit, kneeling prostrate on the sidewalk at the southeast corner of King and Bay, with his head fully inserted into a pile of soil located inside an open suitcase also laying on the ground.  There was a small rope tied into a noose knot on the concrete ground next to him, along with a carafe of clear water.

I too wanted to take a picture of this somewhat shocking sight at the busiest intersection during rush hour in Toronto's equivalent of Wall Street and Broad in New York City, but there were a lot of people surrounding him and taking pics and pointing and remarking, etc.  The crowd of people surrounding him were also mostly dressed in business attire, given the location, but their heads were definitely not buried in dirt.  So I just kept walking along, somewhat curious and impressed with the man's brave display of something, although I wasn't quite sure what that something might be.  Only the man/artist truly knows, but now, upon further reflection, I now know what it represents to me.

When I think of what I saw while I was staring at this man along with everyone else, I kept having flashbacks of my experience in prison (actual prison) in Texas a few years ago.  Alone, locked up in a small area, surrounded by concrete and steel and insanity.  It's a hard feeling to forget, and it pops up from time to time when I feel stuck or powerless, scared and alone, regardless of the actual location or circumstances.  It's a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness and solitude.  In other words, it feels like shit.

To me, the display I witnessed by this man at the busiest time of day at the busiest intersection in the heart of Toronto's financial district, represents an all too common human experience in our 'free' society.  Now, before I go any further, I need to say something, which is this:  relatively speaking, in terms of numbers, there are a few people in our society who are fortunate enough to be able to work in a profession they actually enjoy -- a 'calling' -- people who love what they do and make a lot of money doing it.  That's great and I'm happy for those people.  Given that we live in a 'monetary' society, it would only be fair that everyone should be in such a position.  But that's not the way it is, except for those fortunate ones. So I'm not talking about those fortunate ones.

I'm speaking to the human being who is presumably sick and tired of living in a society in which he is effectively forced to spend most waking hours of his days, working at some job he doesn't particularly like, being sent around to places he doesn't particularly want to be, all just to simply make the money he needs in order to 'live' a 'normal' life.  Further, it made me think that it doesn't matter what kind of job a person has or how much money a person makes.  What matters is that there are a lot of people in our society -- maybe even most people -- who do things they don't enjoy doing in an attempt to enjoy a bit of time while they're not busy doing those things they don't enjoy doing.  You may need to read the previous sentence again, because it sounds weird, I know.  But it makes sense.

Some people call this 'sacrifice,' or 'paying dues,' or 'gotta work hard to play hard,' or whatever else people say to convince themselves that they're happy in life.  That they are content.  'Normal.'

I call it bullshit. 

Revised prologue to 'Soul Cancer', my new book now available on Amazon.com

Did you know that your body is programmed to develop cancer and die?  I know, it seems counterintuitive, but it’s true.  This isn’t classified.  It’s not a secret.  If nothing else kills you, and you live long enough, you will get cancer.  And die.

The human body contains certain mechanisms that regulate the growth of cells.  Our cells grow at a certain rate, and ultimately, with the passage of time, our built-in cellular growth-regulating  mechanisms wear down and fail.  When that happens, some cells start to grow uncontrollably.  And that’s cancer. 

This means that cancer is perfectly natural.  In other words, it is not a foreign ‘bug’ or virus.  It’s more like a self-contained time bomb.  This actually makes sense if you think about it.  I mean, if the human experience is supposed to include the reality of mortality, it’s logical to assume that  the body has a way of destroying itself at some point in time.

Certain genetic or environmental variables can increase one’s risk of developing cancer earlier than ‘nature’ intended, which is why we have things like skin cancer and lung cancer and breast cancer. 

Cancer comes in many different ways and many different forms.  It is capable of invading all parts of the physical body.  Some cancers are worse than other.  It comes in varying degrees of severity and complexity.  It is a cunning adversary, and it is also very patient and powerful.  And it has baffled doctors and scientists for many, many years.

Cunning, baffling and powerful.  Cancer.  The exact same words – “cunning,” “baffling” and “powerful” – are used to describe alcoholism in the basic text for Alcoholics Anonymous.

Cancer of the Soul...

==========

I suppose any number of diseases, disorders and other medical maladies may contribute to a person feeling lonely and isolated.  Sad and depressed and anxious and frustrated.  And scared – absolutely terrified. 

Cancer for sure.  Blindness.  Severe burns.  Obesity.  AIDS.  Bipolar Disorder, Schizophrenia and other ‘mental’ illnesses.  Multiple Sclerosis.  Assorted debilitating phobias.  Amputations and congenital physical deformations.  Stomach-related issues.  Heart failure.  Whatever.  All kinds of horrible sickness.   And on and on and on.

            However, the disease of addiction might be the only medical condition that actually intends to cause a human being to feel lonely and isolated and fearful.  The specific aim of addiction – its actual modus operandi, for want of a better term – is to totally isolate a person.  And then to kill the person.  Alone in a room, usually a small, unpleasant room. 

Addiction, through its cunning and baffling tactics, methodically and progressively sets out to destroy its host.  Sometimes quickly, but much more often very slowly and deliberately.  Like cancer, addiction is generally defined by the medical community as a chronic, progressive, relapsing disease with no cure.  It is a terminal disease that ultimately results in death – a very painful death.  It can be successfully treated and even permanently abated,  but only for a relatively small percentage of those truly afflicted with the illness.

            But unlike cancer – which left untreated will also completely destroy its human host and result in death – addiction negatively impacts and severely damages anyone and anything related to the afflicted individual.  It severs relationships with loved ones.  It tears apart families, businesses, and all manner of material property.  It warps the lives of children.  It results in bankruptcy, loss of certain freedoms and privileges.  It is by far the largest contributor to jail and prison populations in Western society.  Addiction is at the root of most domestic violence.  It leads to endemic levels of suicide.  Accidental and fatal overdoses.  It often results in the death of innocent ‘bystanders,’ so to speak, in the form of drunk driving accidents, drug deals gone wrong, armed robberies, burglaries, and the list goes on.

            Addiction further burdens its host with the very heavy weight of an antiquated social stigma, derived from long-standing misconceptions and ignorance about the disease.  Back in the days when nobody knew what addiction was, when such a ‘sickness’ was believed to be nothing more than a morality problem and a weakness of the will, the addicted were regarded as disgraceful reprobates, devoid of will-power.  And these poor souls were judged accordingly.  The sick and dying addicts were simply treated like any other categorically insane mental patient.  They were often locked up in dungeons and asylums.  Some were sent to live in exile on island colonies or placed on large ships that never made landfall.  Addicts were deemed ‘lost causes’ who were quite a nuisance to civilized society at large. 

            Presently, the collective scientific knowledge and wisdom about addiction is light years ahead of where it was just fifty years ago.  Great advances in medical technology and increased sophistication in the specialty of addiction medicine have provided doctors and scientists in multiple fields of study the ability to demonstrate that addiction is an identifiable brain disease; the modern medical community has clearly shown time and time again, through all kinds of studies and clinical trials, that, at a biochemical level, the brain of an addict is literally hijacked by the addictive substance (e.g., alcohol, cocaine, heroin, prescription narcotics, etc.).  In other words, when the addict is actively using his or her addictive substance(s) of choice, said addict loses control of the brain – a biochemical ‘hijacking’ that puts a monster at the control panel.  Even when the addict decides to attempt a life of sobriety, the neuropathways in the brain have been forever altered, which effectively means that, on certain occasions – the most severe cases – in certain individuals, the brain is ‘hijacked’ before the addictive substance even enters the addict’s body.  It’s an incredibly complex mechanism, but it does become quite clear and logical if one is simply willing to learn about this disease that plays a significant role in the destruction of modern society.

            Nevertheless, quite a large percentage of the ‘general public’ still believe that the only thing an addict must do to be cured is to merely make the choice to stop.  That prisons are full of addicts who want to be there.  That millions of otherwise perfectly rational and reasonable human beings would actually choose to suffer repeated, progressively worse, humiliating and ultimately fatal consequences brought about by addiction.  That the homeless wino passed out on a park bench in a snowstorm just decided  that it would be a good idea to die of exposure.  It’s a tragedy that addiction causes so much damage to society in so many different ways, and it is because of that damage that the stigma is perpetuated.

            Nobody chooses to be an alcoholic.  And no-one wakes up one day and says, “I think I’d like to become a drug addict.  And then I want to give up everything I love for everything I loathe.  Furthermore, I hope to spend some time in prisons and hospitals.  After that, I think I’ll retire, penniless and alone and dig my own grave and die.”  Yeah, sounds like a great idea.

==========

This story is a true tale of addiction and consequences.  Addiction is a chronic, progressive relapsing disease.  And that’s what I am – a chronic, progressive relapsing alcoholic and drug addict.  Addiction personified – that’s me.  No Hollywood rehab or celebrity crackhead or slaps on the wrist.  No, no, no.  This is real.  This is addiction in its purest and rawest form – and it goes on everywhere – and its sick and twisted and angry and focused, and it causes so much more damage to society than most people can possibly comprehend.

            I truly think addiction is a cancer of the soul.  In addition to all of the tangible, evident damage addiction causes to its host and everyone else, and once the afflicted individual has been rendered totally dysfunctional, the disease eats away at the very humanity of the sufferer.  It kills the soul.  It takes away everything about the person it afflicts – everything that makes that person more than just a physical shell.  It eradicates dignity, self-respect, creativity, compassion, love, sex drive, appetite, intellect and anything else that makes the person who he or she is or was in the eyes of those who have known the person since the pre-addiction days.

Once the addict has lost everything and gets to that point where he or she is holed up in that dark, lonely little room waiting to die, addiction continues to eat at what’s left.  It takes away the desire to live.  The will to continue existing in such an impossibly painful state of being.  It takes away the soul.  Soul Cancer.
****end****

Walter & Me.

Walter Malloy Buckner, Jr. (1967-2013)

(The following is to be read at Walter’s remembrance ceremony at The Retreat, April 13^th, 2013 in Wayzata, MN on behalf of Jeremy Nerenberg)....>>>>

Greetings from Toronto, Canada.  My name is Jeremy Nerenberg. 

The Blogger

It pains me greatly to say that due to circumstances beyond my control – and I mean that quite literally – I cannot be here in person for my brother Walter. 

I can explain.  You see, the United States Department of Homeland Security deported me to Canada in 2010 – yes, I’m serious.  As a Canadian citizen living in the U.S. since 1978, I ran into some trouble with the law several years ago.  And, ultimately, due to my inability to stay sober and play by the rules, I was not-so-politely removed from the U.S. and dropped off in the city of my birth, Toronto, where I sit today.  I had many, many chances to get my act together and avoid such a drastic consequence. 

There is only one other person I know who is capable of irritating someone to such an extreme extent – someone so gifted in his capacity to annoy, aggravate, infuriate and exasperate other human beings to the point of insanity…

I first met Walter Buckner six years ago, right here at The Retreat.  I had just flown in from Aspen, Colorado (where I was living at the time) in yet another attempt to ‘get sober.’  I had been here for about a week at the time, when some friends of another Retreat guest came out here to Wayzata from St. Paul to visit their comrade.  I noticed one of these guys in some designer sunglasses, smoking a cigarette and talking n on his cellphone off in a corner of the courtyard by himself.  He was brought over and introduced to me as it was known that I grew up in Dallas, Texas, and apparently this guy had also grown up in Dallas.

Walter and I quickly learned that we had actually grown up just a few miles from each other in Dallas.  But since Walter was a few years older than me and we went to different schools, our paths never crossed until that day – in Minnesota of all places.  Walter had arrived here many years earlier of course in an attempt to deal with his own issues, while I was still years away from the darker part of my life.

I ended up staying on in St. Paul after my thirty days here at The Retreat.  As fate would have it, I moved into a sober house on Lincoln Drive (or Avenue, I don’t remember), and Walter was one of my new housemates.  I quickly learned that this guy was a monumental ‘piece of work.’  Sarcastic, obnoxious, unbelievably direct and way too cool for his own good.  He was impossibly difficult, insufferable, intolerable and insane.  I absolutely loved it.  We were soon as close as only brothers-in-arms can be. 

We developed an unbreakable bond, one like only soldiers united against a common foe can experience.  Many of you in this room know what I’m talking about.  It’s a magical byproduct of this program – this fellowship – this wonderful, colorful, beautiful, tragic, painful world of recovery.

Even though I only knew Walter for six years, and even though we only lived in the same city together for two years, I consider Walter to be one of the closest friends I’ve ever had at any time in my life.  You see, Walter was sober the entire time I lived  in Minnesota.  I, on the other hand, continued down a path of periodic relapse, trouble, madness and chaos.

Walter had my back the entire time.  When others turned away from me, Walter sought me out and made sure I was okay.  He would not leave my side as I struggled.  

For much of my time in St. Paul, I too was sober, and it was during that period when we were both healthy at the same time, that I cherish most with Walter.  We were very much alike – we had the same tastes in music, clothing, and many, many other of the finer things in life that two ex-rich kids from Dallas, Texas acquire a taste for.  We argued about everything and agreed on everything at the same time.  I saw myself in Walter and he saw himself in me.  We were both neurotic as hell and we bickered at each other like an old married couple. 

And neither one of us gave a shit about what anyone else thought of our mutual Southern arrogance. 

Walter was a walking contradiction.  No writer of fiction is creative enough to come up with such a character.  He’s impossible to properly describe in mere words.  One must experience his presence and personality in order to get a glimpse of such a curious creature.  He had the very rare combination of character traits that enabled him to help someone like me – someone equally impossible.

Walter was clearly jaded and traumatized by his many past experiences, as many of us are.  But Walter also possessed the innate gifts of compassion and empathy.  He was a restless soul with a spirit that was not comfortable within the confines of the limited human body.  He was misunderstood by most, because he let very few people inside.  I was the same, and I know many of you sitting here today could share similar experiences in that regard.

I never had an older brother – I was the oldest in my family.  During my two years in Minnesota, Walter was my big brother.  My guardian angel.  I will not go into detail about the many specific ways in which Walter helped me – it’s too personal and painful to rehash in this way, in this room.  There is enough pain in this room already.  Granted, I’m fairly certain there will be a lot of laughter in this room tonight too.  My thoughts and memories of Walter over the past couple of years generally result in me laughing out loud at the sheer absurdity of some of the things I witnessed around Walter……actually, “absurd” isn’t a descriptive enough word.  The man was capable of evoking the most ridiculous, preposterous, silly, outlandish, devious and totally irrational events in any situation, at any time, regardless of location. 

Walter had a profound impact on my own personality.  Sometimes I’ll notice the way I’m moving or the way I’m talking or even the way I present myself, and I’ll realize that part of my personal style and disposition represents the special relationship I had with Walter Buckner.

I am shaken to the core by the circumstances surrounding Walter’s untimely passing. Walter was at his best when I was at my worst, and I will always regret that I could not be there for him when he slipped back into the darkness of addiction.  But no distance can separate his heart from mine.  And no matters of mere mortality can break the bond between our two souls. 

Walter watched out for me.  He helped me when I could not help myself.  He was a soul rebel. A modern-day folk hero.  I miss him terribly.

Bob Dylan said “A man is a success if he wakes up in the morning and goes to bed at night and does what he wants in between.”  Well, no-one was more successful in my eyes than Walter Buckner.

May he find the peace he deserves and sleep softly tonight in the knowledge that he will always be surrounded by love.

-peace/love

Jeremy