Trusting a Complete Stranger

(so he won’t be a stranger to us~ – promoted by RiaD)

“Don’t talk to Strangers.”



Mom & Dad

The dark car rolls up and the window slides down…

“Hey kid! Want some candy.” You like puppies, right?”

“All I need is your name, address, phone number and you’ll need to initial… right here, and sign here…Aah, don’t bother reading it, I’m a good guy. Trust me.”

It’s nothing personal. Just business.

CEO – Easy Street, INC.

The Corporate Stranger

The corporate stranger, especially the lusty, amoral and antisocial corporate stranger, is a good metaphor for attacking the problem of corporate sponsored public policy.

Corporate strangers spend billions to tell us how nice they are, billions to tell us how good they are for our ‘community’, and billions to make us feel comfortable with them. The corporate stranger wants us to trust him.

http://www.geocities.com/Encha…

“Outside the Hundred-Acre-Wood there are many, many people,” said Christopher Robin.

“Hundreds?” asked Pooh.

“Thousands and thousands,” said Christopher Robin. “Most of them are nice, but a few aren’t.”

“How can we tell who’s not nice?” asked Pooh.

We can’t tell the difference between a good stranger and a bad stranger by looking at them,” said Christopher Robin, “so we should never talk to any strangers.””That doesn’t sound very friendly,” said Pooh.

“You can always be friendly with your friends,” said Christopher Robin.

“It’s nice to be friendly with friends, smiled Piglet.

“Yes,” said Christopher Robin. “But you should never be friendly with strangers.” [emphasis: mine]

Mom’d Be Pissed!

Americans are trusting our families’ health, wealth, wellbeing and future to complete strangers: fake people we don’t trust, that don’t care about our wellbeing, that have nothing on their mind’s at all but the bottom line:Grow or die.

Complete strangers spending fortunes to woo us to them, to tell us how good they are, and to tell us how much they care while they exploit our people and rape our land.

Should we really trust those kinds of people?

It’s stirring when you think about it:

Fine print that nobody reads, open ownership of and access to personal information, health, wealth and well being of our families? All entrusted to kindness of corporate complete strangers.

What the hell are we thinking?

Complete strangers select our ‘electable’ politicians.

Complete strangers inform our nation.

Complete strangers bankroll our elections.

The Corporate Stranger, a complete stranger to the People, does not care about our families.

People are just the chattel of the marketplace. Human resources and consumers; we’re product and future profit streams to be owned.

Moo!

I make it a point to not put my faith in the good intentions of strangers, especially when I’ve already seen that the stranger does not care how his actions impact people.

The fact that we’re nothing more than numbers: costs, assets, liabilities and potential profit, should be eye opening for us.

Nothing personal, It’s Just Business

A stranger that does a cost benefit on your life, on our children’s lives, to see if he ‘cares’ needs to be watched like a hawk, not perched in the hen house.

We’ve got to stop trusting complete strangers to do the right thing for us. Strangers don’t really care about you. It’s nothing personal.

We’ve got to look out for ourselves. We’ve got to look out for our neighbors, friends and family. We’ve got to look out for our future. Our future is personal.

It’s time we start to dedicate time and effort to those close to us, those who care about us instead of to complete strangers.  

11 comments

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    • k9disc on July 22, 2008 at 05:52
      Author

    first diary here…

    Cheers!

    • Edger on July 22, 2008 at 09:12

    but the print looks fine to me, and I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I rec’d you, and I hope you write some more fine print here!

    • k9disc on July 22, 2008 at 20:02
      Author
  1. A Streecar Named Desire (1951):

    In a memorable farewell scene, Blanche moves fearfully through the room where the poker game is being played, excusing herself as she finishes the final part of her journey: “Please don’t get up. I’m only passing through.” At first, she resists the doctor because he isn’t the courtly gentleman she was expecting (“This man isn’t Shep Huntleigh”) and retreats in panic back inside. Stanley offers her the paper lantern to entice her to leave and she clutches for it. As Blanche collapses and is pinned to the floor by the overbearing, potentially-cruel matron, it is observed that Blanche will no longer need protective claws: “These fingernails have to be trimmed.” Mitch sits helplessly and shamefully at the poker table.

    When addressed as Miss DuBois and offered an arm by the calm, elderly doctor, Blanche is led away [as if blind as she was earlier with Stella] to the institution with a trusting, childlike expression – accompanied to a place populated by “strangers” where her illusory fantasies will remain intact, but where real human contacts will once again be severed:

       Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers.

    She is led away by another stranger – this time, a kindly one.

    Disgusted by Stanley and suspicious of him, Stella vows to have nothing more to do with him and will not return to him. He will be justly punished for his lustful violation of his sister-in-law: “Don’t you touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again.” After Blanche has departed for the asylum, Stella takes her wrapped-up baby in her arms [a visual Madonna and child image] and refuses to listen to her husband’s entreaties. While nestling her new baby in her arms, she vows: “I’m not going back in there again. Not this time. I’m never going back. Never.” She climbs to the upstairs neighbor’s apartment after rejecting him.

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