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Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Happy New Year

Hi, Johnny and I want to wish all of you a very happy New Year.



Monday, December 22, 2008

Christmas And The Troubled Little Geese

One little Goose turned to another as they sat near the edge of a golf course that was covered in a half an inch of fresh snow and said, “My friend we should have gone South before it became so cold. I am afraid our wings will freeze up if we try and make the trip now.”

The other little Goose responded, “And do you expect a less icy reception in the South. Everybody hates us. We are welcome nowhere.”

“Why is that asked Goose number 1?”

“I think it is because there are too many of us, and we create a mess wherever we go. Besides people think of us as just Geese who don’t count for much,” answered Goose number 2.

“But I thought that in the spirit of Christmas people would be more willing to look kindly on the least amongst us?”

“I know, I know, but life is not always what it is supposed to be. We will have to learn to accept our circumstance with grace and good will to all at this holiday season.”

“I find it hard to accept our lot in life as it is. I don’t believe that this is the way God would want things to be. He is full of kindness and mercy. Perhaps if we pray to Him he will hear our prayers and help others to understand our plight.”

“I hope so my friend. My tail feathers are starting to freeze. I am afraid of what will happen to us in the future. We have no food. There is no one who wants to help us. We disturb their celebrating, impose on their happy times and impinge on their holiday spirit.”

“I believe it won’t always be like this my friend. One day people will be full of the goodness that God designed them to have. Then even little Geese like us will have a place in this society. Then even we will be able to find some happiness for our families and some sense of security. Then even us poor little Geese will not be discriminated against especially at this time of giving and kindness that represents the true spirit of Christmas.”

“Are there other groups such as us that are discriminated against even at Christmas time”?

“Yes there are, but most of them are human.”

“Do you think people will ever understand that we have feelings too?”

“I think they will soon. I think that as soon as the spirit of Christmas spreads its wings of joy over all of God’s people that they will begin to recognize that even little Geese or any other minority group have their place in God’s Kingdom, for in caring about them we can become more than we were. We can become what God intended us to be.

Have a very happy Christmas Holiday, and please don’t forget all the little Geese amongst us; they come in so many different types and shapes that sometimes it is hard to remember that they have feelings.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Thanksgiving – All Alone At Home

You might well ask what's so special about having a turkey sandwich on Thanksgiving, but it is who it came from and how it was made that's special. In fact it was the best turkey sandwich that I Johnny Oops the prophet, and a fictional character in a novel by the same name ever had, if you can believe that. You see I was all alone at home and feeling sad and lonely.

I was resigned to spending Thanksgiving alone in Rancho Santa Fe, California. Jody, my wife, was visiting her father, The Kabalistic Rabbi Frenbren, in France to introduce him to our twin baby prophets - Darling and Delicious. Yes we just had baby girls; did I forget to tell you? It happened so fast. Anyway I was lonely. I don't like feeling lonely on the holidays, what about you?

The truth is I felt lost shuffling around this huge house of mine all by myself. I had given the staff off for the holidays, and the silence was deafening. Then I heard the doorbell ring. I ran to the door my heart pulsing fast, hoping it was Jody back from France with my children to surprise me for the holidays, but I knew in the back of my mind that wasn't going to happen.

I opened the door and there was Jonathan my chauffer, administrative assistant and all around good guy. I asked him why he was here in the middle of his holiday celebration.

He said, "Well Sir, you know I don't live too far away, and the Misses thought since we had more turkey than we could possibly eat that you might like a turkey sandwich since you were home alone as it were."

I told Jonathan that was very thoughtful of him and his wife, and asked if he would like to come in for a drink of eggnog or something. He thanked me, but said he wanted to get back to his family. I understood and wished him well and thanked him again for the sandwich.

A few hours later I felt hungry and went down to the kitchen to open the basket with the turkey sandwich. Inside a red and white-checkered napkin that lined the basket was a note from his wife thanking me for all the kindness I had shown her husband over the past year. I really don't know what she was talking about; I just try to adhere to God's admonition to care for other people. I guess I must have done something right for a change.

Then I unwrapped what was in the basket. It contained a large sandwich made on homemade dark rye bread, cut in large diagonal slices, and stuffed with huge slabs of white meat turkey with the crispy outer skin still attached. It was slathered with the most delicious Russian dressing mixed with finely chopped sweat gherkins. It smelled great. On the side Jonathan's wife had added plastic containers of Cranberry sauce, the most delicious sausage stuffing, marshmallow topped candied sweet potatoes, and a huge slice of homemade apple pie carefully wrapped in aluminum foil. I devoured it all not bothering to heat anything up. Frankly I am not to good around the kitchen. There is no question in my mind that this was the best Thanksgiving turkey sandwich I ever had. I only wish that Jody was here to share it with me.

Just as I was finishing, Jody called from France. She was worried that I was home alone and lonely. I told her not any more because Jonathan had just brought me a special turkey sandwich with all the trimmings, and her call was the most special holiday treat of them all. I took advantage of the holiday spirit to tell her once again how much I love her and our beautiful twin girls. She told me that she felt the same way and promised never to be away from me on the holidays again.

Sometimes it's the little things that make a difference. Sometimes it is the kindness and caring of other people that really touch our hearts. Sometimes a simple gesture can reassure us on the holidays that our loved ones care for us, and we don't have to feel alone. After all, God is always with us. Isn't that the only reality that really matters?

This holiday season might be an especially good time to thank God for all the blessings He has bestowed upon us: the family and friends He surrounds us with so that we are not all alone, and the people we know who really care about us no matter how far away they are from us on the holidays.

These are the 'words' of your new friend Johnny Oops the prophet, and my message is that, "I care for you and wish you and yours well. You don't have to feel alone any more. In spite of the natural disasters and acts of terrorism that afflict us, we all have a lot to be thankful for: so many new friends and loved ones to cherish, so many we haven't even met yet, and so many acts of kindness to cherish. The best is yet to come. Isn't life wonderful? Have a very happy and healthy Thanksgiving"


Saturday, November 22, 2008

Are You Living In A Virtual Reality World?

Hi, I'm Johnny Oops and I have a problem. Sometimes I feel like I'm not real. Granted I am known as a Prophet and a Messenger or Guru, but I still question my true identity. I question my very existence. What about you, do you question your existence? Do you know if you are real, or are we living in a virtual reality world?

Sometimes I feel like we are all bit players in some virtual reality world designed by the master of all out souls. What's that they say about us all being God's creatures? What does that mean? Is it possible we are being manipulated in some giant virtual reality game for the pleasure, entertainment, or instruction of some vast intelligence whose capabilities and intentions we cannot even fathom? Is this a test?

Sometimes I feel like I am operating in a dream. Other times I feel like I've been here before and done that before. Are we virtual characters who are reliving the same program over and over again?

Doesn't it strike you as strange that so many of us look alike, think alike, and have the same passions? Has the same program made us all? Is the same software running our lives?

Let's just suppose for a moment that we are all part of some gigantic virtual reality game. Who would have made it and why? Why all the conflict in this virtual world, why all the sadness and tragedy? Do we exist to the extent we do solely for the enjoyment of a master programmer, or do we serve a higher purpose? Who could have ordained all the random acts of kindness and catastrophe, or the quirks of nature, that are built into our lives? Where do our feelings of happiness and joy come from? Is there really any meaning to our lives, or is this all preprogrammed and the outcome predetermined?

I keep thinking about this virtual reality world we may be living in and have come to the conclusion that we shouldn't worry about it too much because this world is as real as it is going to get for us. We have to learn to make the most of our circumstance. We have to learn to have faith that who we are, and what we do is real and has meaning. We have to learn to believe that we have a purpose. We have to believe that we can make a difference, and that we have been put here on this good earth of ours for a reason.

And yet in the back of my mind, I still wonder. Do you have your doubts? Are we replaying the same game of life over and over again in a virtual reality world? Do we really have any choice?

The best answer I have come up with so far is that I think, I question, I can make choices, I have feelings, and therefore I am real. What about you? Are you using all the abilities that God programmed you with assuming there is a God? Do you have deep emotional feelings? Are you asking the right questions?

Think about it. This is not a game. This is a reality check of your own choosing. The outcome is virtually assured if you have enough faith. The outcome is in God’s hands. Take pleasure in the moment my friends. The reality of life is all around you. It is in the air you breath. It is in the beauty that you see. It is in the passion that you feel. Can’t you taste how bittersweet the reality of life is?

To question yourself is as real as it gets.

Hi, I am Arthur Levine, the author of the novel Johnny Oops. To read more about the adventures of Johnny Oops go to

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

CHAPTER 11 – HARVARD - Excerpt from novel Johnny oops

I was inconsolable for weeks. I wrote to Alice constantly. We talked on the phone. She admitted she had met some football player from La Jolla High School in San Diego. I wanted to kill myself. Then Dad told me he had arranged for me to get early, early admission to Harvard. I would be one of the youngest students ever enrolled. I felt like killing myself twice. My whole world was coming apart. I felt totally insecure. I was losing my Alice and my home at the same time. Even my religion couldn’t save me now, the hell with Dialectic Spiritualism.

Slowly thoughts of Alice occupied less of my time. Eventually I thought about her only late at night when fleeting urges prompted my sleeping passions. I had too many other things on my mind.

Harvard was a whole new world. The girls were 3 inches taller and at least three years older. I’m the kind of guy that goes for older women, but this is ridiculous. The guys ignored me. To them I looked like some brainy nerd. The only v-necked sweater I owned was a tennis sweater and it was now too short for me. I didn’t fit in. I felt like a fart lost in a windstorm. I was alone and miserable.

My roommate, a six foot six inch tall football player basically ignored me. My dorm counselor acted like he had been handed some full-term project. He wasn’t about to get too involved with my problems. I was away from home, without my Alice, and totally miserable.

I ate in the school cafeteria, spent most of my time in the library, and tried to concentrate on my studies. I guess taking mercy on me, my dorm counselor suggested I try out for the debate team. I told him I wasn’t into organized activities, didn’t want to ever be vocal again, and definitely wasn’t into anything competitive and the only thing I had any interest in was religion. Frustrated and feeling out of options, he suggested I go see the Chaplain. I guess he was worried I was suicidal.

Chaplain Bill as the guys called him was a much-needed miracle. He was a tall handsome blond-haired wasp from some seminary in the Midwest. I told him I was questioning my faith, and felt totally out of place at Harvard and away from my Alice. He told me he was questioning his faith too, and felt totally out of place here also.

We got along famously. He offered me a part time job as Chaplain’s assistant I jumped at it and decided to minor in theology – might as well learn about other people’s religions and it gave me something to do and someone to talk to. I had found a friend. Chaplain Bill recognized my genius. He didn’t talk down to me. He was very kind and considerate. Of course he didn’t look anything like my Alice, but he did remind me of her. To tell the truth I think we were attracted to each other.

I found that disgusting -- anyway nothing happened. My provincial background wouldn’t allow it. My remembrances of Alice wouldn’t allow it. Besides, he was 10 years older than I was. I think Chaplain Bill was secretly relieved, but the relationship did give me someone I could reveal my innermost thoughts to.

Of even greater moment, it gave me time. Time to consider what was happening to me, and time to try and straighten my life out. It’s a shame a kid of fifteen has to resort to getting his head straight. Life plays tricks on us all. I suppose it’s a Carl Jung thing. I guess I’m a trickster at heart: sometimes shapeless, sometimes all form and image. Here now and then gone. On the top and then on the bottom of the heap -- life stinks. I’m tired of being a joke.

I’m going to have to make some major revisions in my religious beliefs. Dialectic Spiritualism seems to have its weaknesses. I can’t be expected to go around having blind faith in some religion even if I made it up. Does that make sense? That’s what I mean, nothing I do or say makes any sense to me anymore. I discussed this with Bill. He told me the nature of faith is a constantly changing thing. It’s natural to be confused at times, especially after the type of trauma I have suffered. I am very impressed with how smart the Chaplain is. I am beginning to think he is a genius like me, only older and wiser in the ways of religious beliefs.

Of course when it comes to worldly things I am miles ahead of Chaplain Bill. It must be hell never knowing the love of a woman. Wait a minute. What am I thinking? He’s not a Catholic priest. He can get married. Maybe he has even been with a girl. This is what I mean. Since I lost Alice and came to Harvard my thinking has been all messed up. It must be the trauma I have experienced. I am suffering. Will this horror never end? I think I want to be a kid again.

I couldn’t take the loneliness anymore. I summoned up what remaining courage I had and wrote to Alice begging her to come to Harvard for the Harvard/Penn football game. I promised her a great time. I enclosed a roundtrip airline ticket. It nearly busted me. I told her Chaplain Bill had given me his football tickets right on the 50-yard line. She wrote back that she was coming. My life started taking on meaning again, but not for long.

Alice arrived late Friday. I gave her a quick tour of the campus, took her to a fancy French restaurant called Biba, was refused when I tried to order champagne, and we went back to the Four Seasons Hotel where I had booked a room. We had sex. It wasn’t great and it wasn’t love. The passion was gone. I guess her football jock boyfriend from La Jolla was better than I. I guess he was more of a man. Alice didn’t complain, but I knew it was over.

We sat quietly through the football game freezing our asses off. Again Alice didn’t complain. We sort of stumbled through the rest of the weekend. We didn’t have sex again. When it was time for Alice to leave she told me I was her first love and she would always remember me. I cried. I was pathetic.

Oops, several days later I had a major category 4 nervous breakdown. They tell me I went running through the hallowed halls of my dorm in a Crimson colored jock strap, playing Requiem for a Matador on my trumpet – a throwback to my high school days in the band I suppose -- while I tried to scrape the freckles off my face with my razor. They tell me that by the time three campus security guards finally subdued me I was a bloody mess sobbing, “out damn spots, be gone.” I never could forget my Shakespeare.

My parents drove through the night from Connecticut to pick me up and place me in the Happyville Sanitarium for emotionally disturbed boy geniuses. There I stayed for almost 3 months under the tough love therapy of a Doctor O’Hara. At least he was straight.

The closest I remember him coming to showing some compassion for my plight was when the good doctor said to me, “Look on the bright side Johnny, if you really wanted to kill yourself you would never have used a safety razor. It doesn’t cut deeply enough. Remember that if you ever want to try again.”

I’m not going to bore you with all the gritty details of my three-month incarceration at Happyville or the analysis I went through. I was diagnosed as having homophobic neurotic manifestations brought on by my rejection as an inadequate lover by Alice. I can relate to that.

They also told me that my playing Requiem for a Matador on my trumpet symbolized my wish to die a hero’s death so Alice would mourn me as a martyr. O’Hara told me that my wearing the jock strap represented my desire to fuck her football player lover both figuratively and literally, and that trying to scrap off my freckles was an attempt to become more mature in the way I dealt with social relationships. Doctor O’Hara said this last part was actually a hopeful sign. There is much more, but most of it is too painful for me to discuss. When am I going to grow up?

After 3 months they released me to the care of my parents with the strong recommendation that I not to go back to Harvard until I was sixteen no matter how much of a genius my folks thought I was. That’s right, blame it on my folks, why not give them a guilt trip. That’s the way these shrinks get new customers. There never was any chance of my returning to Harvard. I didn’t want to go through the horror and the loneliness again and the University didn’t want me back.

For the next few months I moped around the house doing nothing much except growing a beard. I wanted to hide the scars on my face where I had cut myself. Physical scars you can hide, some mental ones never go away. You can only push them into the background. That’s life: A lot of crazy shit, a lot of hiding from yourself, and a little love to keep you going.

My old friend Billy came over to visit me. That was a hoot. He was fatter than ever. He was repeating seventh grade for the second time. I told him he was sicker than I was. He said I was right and he was sorry. We both had a good cry together. We are both pathetic. I never let him come over again.

Alice called and wanted to come visit me. My folks, Doctor O’Hara and I absolutely refused to even consider it. That was the end of Alice, or so I thought.

Chaplain Bill did come to visit me. He apologized to me for not feeling my pain and for not being able to give me a stronger faith in God.

I said, “That’s all right, we all have our crosses to bear. It was not your responsibility to make me a decent human being who cared enough about others not to make them feel guilty.”

Chaplain Bill thanked me for being his friend and helping him find his faith again. How come I can help other people, but I can’t help myself?

Months have gone by now since I’ve come home. My parents try and stay out of my way, especially my mother who had a long talk with Doctor O’Hara. I think she is seeing him now herself. My Dad doesn’t know what to say to me to cheer me up so he tries to tell me these stupid little jokes. I love my Dad. I feel his pain. It must be tough to have a screwed up son whom you love, and think it’s your fault that he’s messed up.

I’m starting to feel human again. I know I’m ready to do something, but I don’t know what yet. I don’t want to race headlong into another disaster. I’m glad I didn’t kill myself. I still don’t know the meaning of life. I still don’t understand the nature of my faith. I still don’t have a plan for the future.

What I do have as Doctor O’Hara has explained to me is some time to look around and see the beauty in life. He says it is all around me. All I have to do is look for it. You don’t have to be a genius to keep your eyes open. I’m starting to take a peek. I think I like what I see. I think I’ll stick around. Life still sucks, but I think I’ll hang around and see what happens to me. It’s like watching a movie only I’m in it. I’m the star in this crazy whacked out production. This is my life. It feels unreal. Who ever heard of a bearded leading man with freckles getting the girl? It’s ridiculous.

That’s me -- all image and fantasy. I’ve got to find out who I really am. I wish I hadn’t tried to do everything so fast. I wish I hadn’t tried to grow up so soon. I wish I were a kid again. This manhood thing is definitely not what it’s cracked up to be. I’m not ready yet.

What was my rush? Where am I going to go now? What am I going to do? Who will I have to keep me company and give me love? I have all these questions and no answers. I think I was smarter when I was younger. This growing older thing is hell.

It must be horrible to be old. Then you really know you have all the answers and you don’t have the time to do anything with them. It must be like looking in on your life rather than just living it. I guess that’s what Doctor O’Hara meant. I have time, precious time. That’s truly wonderful. I hope I’m smart enough to know what to do with it this time.

I don’t feel much like a genius anymore or a philosopher for that matter. I just feel like a mixed up kid, or am I a man now? What happened to my promise? I had such dreams. I was going to do great things. I guess I am going to have to get my act together first.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

How To Survive And Prosper In A Economic Depression/Recession

How To Survive And Prosper In A Economic Depression/Recession


Arthur Levine

All the statements in this e-book are solely the opinions of the author and various other people he has relied on in putting this document together. They are not to be construed as fact, and the author will not be liable for any action readers take based on the opinions expressed in this book. In other words I disclaim everything, and this is my disclaimer.

© Copyright Arthur Levine 2008

About the Author

I am a freelance writer who relies on earning money from my craft, which has me constantly depressed and uniquely well positioned to claim expertise at surviving an economic depression. I do it all the time. I am also the author of the novel Johnny Oops and numerous blogs on the Internet ranging from Wealth Protection to the New Middle Aged Group, to Searching For God to Working At Home, to a book called
The Magic of Faith, and a manual called The Faith Patch Manuel.


This Isn’t Your Grandfather’s Depression

I don’t know about you, but I have only lived through one depression that I can remember, maybe two depending on whether I am having a good day or not.

My grandfather told me, “You have to have a sense of humor,” He gave me this most important piece of advice, which I give you about how to survive a depression. Unfortunately that is all the old man left me so I try and use humor whenever I can.

You are going to need a sense of humor too if you plan on surviving an economic depression. If you have the other kind of depression, a sense of humor is important too.

I am going to try to give you some important tips on how to survive an economic depression using as much humor as I can muster as my wife tells me she thinks I am severely depressed. I can live with that. How about you?

Are you ready to make plans for surviving a depression no matter which type you are about to experience? I hope so. I can’t do this alone. I need your help.

Let’s not quibble about whether it is a recession or a depression that is coming; it is too depressing to think about. I am going to call it a depression because that is how I feel.

Please grab a pencil. You don’t need to write anything down, but you can chew on the eraser if you get really nervous about what you are about to learn.


I am really tired of hearing the pundits saying we are entering a big economic depression. Some say as big as the Great Depression. Some say it won’t be a depression at all. I guess that would be better than a small depression, which will only affect a few of us a little bit. No matter who is right, how great can a depression be?

A pox on all their houses. If we are going to have a depression, I want a big mother so that everyone suffers equally, and it is in every ones interest to get through it. How many of you are ready to vote against a depression – see.

The rich with their big limousines and huge mansions ought to suffer just like you or I so that it will be in the interest of the powerful to find an answer, and an end to the coming depression. Hell they caused most of the problems anyway. It is their fault we took on too much credit card debt, and bought homes with no money down and the skies the limit interest rates on our mortgages.

I suggest the punishment for the rich and powerful people’s role in all this is to insist that they rent out rooms in their mansions at a dollar a day to people who are losing their homes due to foreclosure. No flippers allowed. They are to be relegated to ice houses in northern Alaska right next to the seals until they learn their lessons. I would also insist that the rich and powerful trade in their gas guzzling limousines for the smallest mini vans around so that they can make soup kitchen food deliveries to the really poor and starving, using their butlers and chauffeurs as delivery men and women.

If we are going to get through this coming depression, we are going to have to learn to live together. We are going to have to learn to take care of one another. We are going to have to learn to care. Sorry folks, some things just aren’t funny.

While I am trying to regain my sense of humor, please remember that for your part you should stop spending so much on things you don’t need, and putting money in rich people’s pockets. What’s the matter with you? Tear up those credit cards, pay off your debt, and get ready to do the Depression Mamba. Cash is going to become king, 1,2,3.


Are you wearing a raincoat? The ‘you know what’ is going to start to fly around here. I know that may sound a little vulgar, but who ever heard of an elegant depression. This is not your grandfather’s Great Depression with people living on the banks of the river or in railroad cars, but still wearing their one threadbare suit and frayed white shirt every day. This is a new fangled state of the art depression caused by phony mortgage bonds, and inexplicable financial derivatives, and all kinds of other exotic financial instruments that the rich made up as funny money to help them get richer as they play their game of musical chairs with the poor. I have news for you; the music is stopping. The result is going to be economic chaos. Our paper is no good any more, and the whole world knows it. These foreigners who took our government notes in exchange for poorly made consumer goods that we didn’t need, and shouldn’t have bought, would sell all of our treasury bonds that they are holding, but to who? We have built a trade deficit, bad credit, U.S. dollar wrecking monster, and it is about to destroy us.

I told you my wife says I’m depressed.

What’s a person to do? I suggest that gold is better than paper, and renting is better than owning a home. You can buy the home back later in the middle of the gigantic depression that is coming if you have any money left, and aren’t starving to death.

∑ A word of caution, stockpiling body fat won’t help you get through the winter. It will only make you hungry when you can least afford to eat.

Here’s a little tip that should help a lot. Learn to layer up your cloths, because you sure as hell won’t be able to afford heating oil when the Arabs decide our dollar isn’t worth twenty cents in real money, and triple the price they are charging. Also don’t plan on running your car on ethanol. You are going to need to eat that corn, and the finance company is probably going to repose your car any way.

∑ Tip number two; fix your old bike. You are going to need transportation if you are going to be able to compete with illegal aliens for day work at the local construction site. Don’t feel bad. At least you have a real social security number. Remember, there is always work behind the counter at McDonalds. People have to eat. How about a happy meal?
∑ One thing you might consider is working from home if you can find something practical and profitable to do. Look at the money you can save on gas, baby sitters, and day care if that fits your family. The best part is you can be your own boss. Did you ever hear of anyone firing himself or herself because business was bad?

I threw that last tip in for free. Don’t count on me doing that all of the time. In fact don’t count on anything any more – not in a recession/depression.

I hope I am not getting you too depressed. I am sure you are going to be one of the lucky ones who keep their job. Maybe you are a collection agent, or a funeral director, or an ambulance driver: those jobs will definitely be in vogue during the depression.

Tell the truth, you do feel better now, don’t you?


Stop living in the past. Stop remembering those big steak dinners with two bottles of expensive French wine. Stop dreaming about your last cruise to Jamaica. Those days are over. Forget about them. Start planning for the future. For those of you who still have courage and the will to survive the coming depression here are a bunch of things you can do to prepare yourself. Now you can use the pencil you have been chewing on:

1. Start stockpiling hope – hope for a better time is going to help you get through this in one piece I hope.
2. Strengthen you faith in God – remember that God is always with you, even during a depression.
3. Try and live on less – less is more when you have practically nothing.
4. Stop smoking – you can’t afford it.
5. If you’re a woman, buy cheap cosmetics – you need to do something to make you feel better.
6. If you’re a man, buy a tanning lotion – you look white as a ghost.
7. Find a companion – it doesn’t pay to be alone no matter which type of depression you are suffering from.
8. Try and marshal your assets – if you don’t have any don’t worry about it, then you are definitely not alone.
9. Blame the government – that won’t help, but it will make you feel better.
10. Get out and vote – doesn’t matter for who as long as it isn’t for the last bunch of losers you voted for.

Are you starting to feel better? See, there are things you can do to help you get through a depression. Aren’t you thrilled that I m here to help you? Tell the truth; you would never get through this without me, right?


It is time for men and woman of all stereotypes to come together and have a good cry. That’s right; this depression really stinks. It is keeping all of us from enjoying ourselves. We are going to have to come together and come up with a plan on how to avoid depressions. Are you ready? All together now what should we do?

I guess we should start by taking an inventory of what we still have:

1. We still have our self worth.
2. We still have hope.
3. We still have faith in the future.
4. We still have each other.
5. We still have the ability to laugh.
6. We still have a sense of humor?
7. We still have love
8. We still have our health.
9. We still can enjoy being with each other.
10. We still can have fun.

I bet you didn’t know how much you are still worth. I bet you had no idea you had so many assets. I bet you thought you would get wiped out in this new depression – not a change, not when I’m on the job. So now when you start to worry about all the money you owe; try and remember your assets. There, don’t you feel better? … Okay, okay, don’t worry – there is more.

When we all come together in a spirit of believing, we will be ready to invest in our future. Without an effort, without a plan, without a common purpose, what can we hope to accomplish alone? That’s why we have to come together and exhibit a common will. Who the hell wants to be poor? We can lick this thing if we all work together.


Anyone who doesn’t like short chapters can go read the Bible or Gone With The Wind. Around these parts we serve up solutions to your problems with surviving a depression as fast as a speeding bullet. You have to stay ahead of the curve if you want to be successful.

In the meantime you had better set up a secret cash reserve fund for when things get really bad. You can’t wait to be fired. You need to scare up some cash for a rainy day right now. I don’t care if you borrow it, or steal it you need an emergency fund. The best and most legitimate way to set up this emergency fund is to start scrimping and savings.

Lets see what we can come up with in the way of savings:

1. Stop ordering a Carmel latté every morning on your way to work. That will save you about twenty bucks a week or one thousand dollars a year.
2. Wear your shirts twice instead of once. That should save you around ten dollars a week, or more than five hundred dollars a year on your laundry bill.
3. No more haircuts for you buddy. Let it grow long or cut it yourself. That should save you sixty dollars a month or seven hundred and twenty dollars a month.
4. Stop having a drink or two or three at your favorite bar on the way home. That could save you at least one hundred dollars a week, or fifty-two hundred a year.
5. No more new clothes for you this year, and forget about those high-heeled shoes. Start wearing the three pairs of sneakers in your closet, they all look brand new. That should easily save you about two thousand dollars a year.
6. Stop staying at those fancy hotels that cost five hundred dollars a night when you are on the road or the bar room floor. You can’t afford them, and they are costing you about four thousand dollars a year without food or booze.

I have to stop here. We are quickly approaching the measly fifteen thousand dollars a year you are making working part time. What happened to the other part of your time? I think you get the picture. If you scrimp on a whole bunch of things you don’t really need, you can probably put together a depression fund of about five thousand dollars in three months, which is probably all the time you have before the depression hits and you become full time unemployed.

You better get a fresh pencil, you have completely chewed off the eraser on that pencil and are now in danger of getting lead poisoning. We haven’t even scratched the surface yet, why are you so nervous? …Well I guess you are, you have chewed your way through the yellow paint and the wood on the pencil, and now you are licking the lead. That is disgusting, please try and get a grip. No, not on the pencil you dummy – on yourself.

One thing is for sure; you are never going to make a living during the coming depression selling pencils on a street corner.


Of course you have to pack. You are not going to be able to afford the mortgage on that big house you live in. You should sell it now and move into a modest rental using whatever is left of the proceeds after you pay off the mortgage, or is your mortgage more than the value of your house?

Here is a partial list of what you should take with you:

1. Your important papers – don’t worry about those worthless mortgage backed certificates you thought you were going to make a killing on.
2. Your dog – at least he or she is a real friend.
3. Your gold fillings – from the teeth that rotted and had to be extracted due to the stress you are under and your unfortunate habit of chewing on pencils.
4. All of your shirts and your laundry soap – you are going to have do your own washing.
5. Your flashlight and candles – in case you can’t pay the utility bill in your new modest abode and the electric company turns off your service.
6. Lots of matches – to light a fire in the fireplace if you have one because you can’t pay for heating oil.
7. Your wife or girlfriend if you have one – they can work part time like you and together you can prove that two fools can live as cheaply as one.
8. The telephone number and address of all your living relatives – you are going to need all the help you can get. Don’t forget to call collect.
9. Your cable TV box – why pay for a new one, but be sure you stick to basic service.
10. Your grandmother’s sense of humor – it is obvious you don’t have one.

I could go on and on, but how much room are you going to have left in that beat up old broken down mini van you have been driving for six years after you pack your bed, and other necessary furniture. That’s right, you can’t afford a moving service. You and that girlfriend type wife of yours are the movers, and your mini is the moving van.

Remember the lyrics to the Depression Mamba, “Scrimp, scrimp, scrimp, 1,2,3. This is the way that life is going to be, 1,2,3. Can’t you see? Can’t you see, 1,2,3? Otra ves por favor, one more time, please. We are doing the Depression Mamba.”


What are you waiting for? The depression is about to hit. This could be the big one. You have to get prepared. It is time for you to marshal your assets, and prepare to make a stand. Don’t get bowled over by the first wave of blood sucking new regulations meant to deal with the problem. Some of these regulations probably will be part of the problem.

This may be absolutely your last chance, so hurry up and meet me at the Last Chance Café. This is of course a virtual café. Who could afford to drink and dim our wits at a time like this? Now pull yourself together, and get with your buddies at the Café. They are broke too. They are miserable. You know what they say…. They would love the company. It will do them good to see someone that looks to be in worse shape than they are. You do know how pitiful you look, don’t you? What did you expect, a virtual picnic? Here we all get a chance to starve together.

Here at the Last Chance Café we don’t stand on ceremony. We are all in the same boat, and it has sprung a credit leak the likes of which have never been seen before in our recorded financial history.

What we need is solutions. China has signaled that they won’t lend us any more money now that most of our consumers have refused to buy any more of their poison paint toys. Mexico has posted guards at the border to stop hungry Americans from trying to cross over in search of food, and their own people from trying to exercise the right of return. The new administration in Washington has promised to do something about the depression, and the opposition parties in Congress have gone on a hunger strike, which levels the playing field between them and the people who are mostly starving themselves.

Okay, so this hasn’t happened yet. I wanted you to get a little glimpse of the future.

Some of you may view this as an exaggeration, but the Nation’s doctors will soon refuse to treat the poor, which is almost every one now because the big drug companies won’t give them free samples any more. Why should they; no one is taking or paying for medicine. If it is a choice between eating cheap white bread or taking diet pills what do you think people are choosing? It has become a consumer despair society. People think their last chance has come and gone.

Welcome to the future. This is part of the big picture.

I say hang out at the Café. Can you think of a better way to go? At least you will be wired.

Just remember folks; it ain’t over till the fat lady dances, and there are damn few of them left these days so prepare for some long term suffering.

But a bunch of us depression babies still have hope. We have come up with a list of things we are not going to allow to happen again assuming we ever get the chance to make a difference. Here is the list:

1. No more buying foreign goods on credit and racking up trillions in deficits we can’t possibly pay back.
2. Our children have the legal right to decline to honor the national debt we have accumulated in their name.
3. No more taking from the poor to give to the rich. This is no longer going to be a Country where Robin Hood in reverse tactics are tolerated.
4. No more funny money paper, certificates, derivatives, or sons of derivatives.
5. No more off balance sheet financing creating contingent liabilities. If it isn’t on the books, we won’t pay the debt – period.
6. No more tax breaks for hedge funds if any of them survive.
7. No more fat cat, golden parachute, multi million dollar scam packages for our top executives who have managed to suck the blood out of our economy in their greed and never ending quest for more and more money and power.
8. No more no money down, no credit needed, car loans, credit cards, or home mortgages. If you can’t afford it, you can’t have it.
9. No more government boondoggles that use our taxpayer’s money to pay for pet projects of the rich and powerful and politically well connected.
10. No more selling your soul for the almighty dollar that isn’t worth shit any more.
11. No more giving away our national treasure to make a few oil companies rich.

Yes I know that’s more than ten items, but we have more than ten problems. You can add to the list if you want to. Remember, this could be your last chance to make a difference.


Does your bad knee ache when it’s about to rain? Does your back hurt when you lift a two hundred pound trunk? Does your girlfriend or boyfriend get mad when you cheat on them? Its coming, I can smell it. Can’t you feel it? What is the consumer confidence index telling you?

The question isn’t when? It is how big it is going to be. Believe it or not that is up to you and me.

The underlying facts are bad, maybe worse than bad, but how big this depression gets depends on you and me not panicking. I am telling you, don’t panic. It won’t do any good, and it is going to scare the hell out of the rest of the world. When they panic because we are panicking, then we are really going to be in deep shit. We need the rest of the world. Did you know we don’t even make our own sewer covers any more? They are all made in China or India. What do you think is going to happen to us if we can’t import sewer covers? Things are really going to get real stinky around here, but don’t panic, please don’t panic.

One thing we should plan on doing is to rediscover our manufacturing capability. We used to be pretty good at making things. We could put our own people back to work. Don’t worry about prices being higher than imports. Al least our workers will be working and will have money to pay for things with. So what if it costs a little more. What is the price of our economic freedom worth? Is it worth paying a few more pennies for reliable top of the line, non-poisonous products for our children and us?

I don’t want to get carried away, but I can envision a day when we will actually manufacture our own clothes again. You will go into Wal-Mart, and almost everything will say “Made In America.”

When we are working, and making money again, we could even start saving some of what we earn. We could have savings accounts at banks assuming any of them were reliable; our kids could open Xmas accounts. We could start to feel good about ourselves again. We could begin to stop living paycheck to paycheck and have something available for a rainy day if any one in the family gets sick or gets laid off. Wouldn’t that be worth sacrificing a few lattes for? How much sugared coffee can we drink before it starts to affect our health?

Repeat after me, the best part is yet to come 1,2,3, the best part is yet to come, 1,2,3, this is the Depression Mamba.


This isn’t going to be pretty, but it might just work. Let’s take a long hard look at how we can get out of this mess together.

Let’s find something that has real value and hard assets, and invest in it. In a depression that shouldn’t be too hard to do.

Let’s put a plan together for the future.

I know you want to know what was wrong with the old plan. The truth is either you really didn’t have one or else everything was wrong with it because look at you now. Look at the mess we are all in now.

Let’s make a list of who your real friends are and who they aren’t. If you have more than one name in the real friends column you are a winner, if not lose the list.

What I am trying to tell you is that it is time to start over and make a new beginning.

Make a promise to yourself to:

1. Spend less than you make.
2. Have money left over at the end of the week.
3. Don’t live paycheck to paycheck.
4. Live within your means.
5. Start Saving.
6. Work Harder.
7. Work Smarter.
8. Live Smarter.
9. Practice Disease Prevention techniques.
10. Eat Smarter
11. Have more fun.
12. Stop buying things you don’t need.
13. Forget about designer anything.
14. Concern yourself with quality.
15. Stop worrying about what your neighbors are doing.

I think by now you are getting the point. Start to watch what you are doing, and do what makes sense, and stop trying to show up your neighbors and friends. You will then stand a good chance of getting through a depression of any kind without too many problems.

What I am suggesting is that you start to take control of your life instead of letting it control you. Are you ready to be in charge? Are you ready to act responsibly? Are you prepared to overcome financial setbacks?

I believe that if you use your God given talents you will be up to the tasks that lie ahead. I believe that if you have faith in yourself and in God, that you can overcome any depression that comes your way.

What do you believe? Are you ready to dance the Depression Mamba? Can you hear the music, 1,2,3? Can you see the beauty all around you, 1,2,3? Are you ready to face the future 1,2,3? Do you have the solution to your problems firmly in mind 1, 2, 3? Are you ready to take action and begin again 1, 2, 3?


If you are looking for answers as to how to beat the depression, my best advice is that it is all about Attitude, Self Improvement, and Spirituality.

That’s right; it is your attitude towards getting through this crisis that is going to make you successful at riding out the coming depression/recession, and learn how to turn it into an opportunity to prosper.

You need to have a positive attitude.

You have to learn to rely on yourself and your instincts, and most of all on your faith in God.

You have to learn to do something about your plight, and not wait for others to solve the problem for you.

You have to have the courage to try new things, and make new commitments.

You have to find it within yourself to be all that you can be.

If you have the proper attitude all things are possible.

You can do it.

You can begin again.

The formula for successful living never changes. It is what we do about it that counts.

Are you ready to do the Depression Mamba 123? Are you ready to count for something?


Hi, this is Arthur Levine. To find out about reprinting or using this e-book please leave a message in the comment section.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Kooks, Nooks, and Terror-nooks - Its Halloween Again

Little painted faces, pointy witch hats, two feet tall clowns, skeleton costumes - it's that time of year again - Halloween is here.

Tell the truth, when you rummage through the basket of your kids trick or treat candy are you checking to make sure it's safe or are you looking for your personal favorite candy bar to munch on?

Sometimes I think there is still a little bit of the child left in each of us. Who can forget the anticipation we all felt as Halloween approached. Don't you remember going out in the dark dressed up in weird costumes with your friends, and depending on your age maybe one parent lingering in the background? Don't you remember the tinge of fear mixed with a tingle of excitement?

Trick or Treat, Trick or Treat, I can still remember the well-intentioned taunt make to smiling parents of your friends and your neighbors. Then there were the nasty older kids who were only out to spoil everyone's fun and throw raw eggs that splattered on doorways and sidewalks. I wonder if they grew up to be bullies or patrons of some other form of anti social behavior.

Today there are also unfortunately the Kooks. The weirdo's who place razor blades in candy, who sneak up behind people and punch them and run off with their cherished possessions and rob them of their self-respect. I guess they are a product of the true state of terror we live in. No one is safe any more, not old people or little children, not the infirm or feeble, not the weakest amongst us, and especially unfortunately not on Halloween. And the worst is that there are terrorists lurking out there in every nook and cranny of our economic and social system waiting to take advantage of this era of our discontent.

The term Halloween (and its alternative rendering Hallowe'en) is shortened from All-hallow-even, as it is the eve of "All Hallows' Day", which is now also known as All Saints' Day. It was a day of religious festivities in various northern European Pagan traditions, until Popes Gregory III and Gregory IV moved the old Christian feast of All Saints' Day from May 13 (which had itself been the date of a pagan holiday, the Feast of the Lemures) to November1. In the ninth century, the Church measured the day as starting at sunset, in accordance with the Florentine calendar. Although All Saints' Day is now considered to occur one day after Halloween, the two holidays were, at that time, celebrated on the same day.
- Wikipedia

Today carved pumpkins called Jack-o'-lanterns are used to scare off evil spirits and for decorative purposes and the holiday has become popular as a children's event.

Isn't it time we all returned to some basic values and helped our children celebrate a holiday of treats and traditions? Isn't it time we tried to take the fear out of every day living for ourselves and for our kids? Isn't it time we looked inward to our personal clown and started to have some fun again? Why can't we just enjoy the moment?

Let's cherish our traditions. Let's spend some time with our kids. Let's bob for apples not problems. Let's have fun again. Let's give ourselves a treat and not trick ourselves into forgetting who we really are and what we stand for. Don't let a bunch of kooks and terror-nooks spook you. The guys behind the masks are the ones who are really scared.

Happy Halloween.

Monday, September 15, 2008

This Isn’t Your Grandfather’s Depression

Please feel free to use this article as long as credit is given to the resource box.
Words: 607
© Copyright Arthur Levine 2008
Keywords: Recession, Depression, Tips, Humor,

I don’t know about you, but I have only lived through one depression that I can remember, maybe two depending on whether I am having a good day or not

My grandfather told me, “You have to have a sense of humor,” He gave me this most important piece of advice, which I give you about how to survive a depression. Unfortunately that is all the old man left me so I try and use humor whenever I can.

You are going to need a sense of humor too, if you plan on surviving an economic depression. If you have the other kind of depression, a sense of humor is important too.

I am going to try to give you some important tips on how to survive an economic depression using as much humor as I can muster as my wife tells me she thinks I am already severely depressed. I can live with that. How about you?

Are you ready to make plans for surviving a depression no matter which type you are about to experience? I hope so. I can’t do this alone. I need your help.

Let’s not quibble about whether it is a recession or a depression that is coming; it is too depressing to think about. I am going to call it a depression because that is how I feel.

Please grab a pencil. You don’t need to write anything down, but you can chew on the eraser if you get really nervous about what you are about to learn.

Here is a list of things to do to get ready for the coming Depression/Recession:

1. Buy a flashlight – It is going to be necessary to see where you are going when the Electric Company turns off your lights because you couldn’t pay the bill.
2. Stop buying expensive drinks at Starbucks for $5 a day - You can’t afford it any more. Use the pot in your one room apartment to boil up some water for instant coffee instead.
3. Get a bike – In case they repossess your car. You are going to need it to get to the construction job if you are going to be able to compete effectively with illegal aliens when your Company let’s you go. There is always McDonalds.
4. Speaking of Happy Hour or Happy Meals, lay off stopping at your favorite watering hole for a couple of brews after work. You are fat enough from all the white bread and baloney sandwiches you are living on and you can’t afford it. Stockpiling body fat won’t help you get through the winter.
5. Get out and vote – It probably won’t help, but it may make you feel like you are doing something constructive.
6. Marry that woman – what are you waiting for? You will get at least two deductions and two can live cheaper than one.
7. Stop thinking about what could have been – it is time to start worrying about the future if you plan on having one.

That’s about all the tips I can stand for today. I am going to take the afternoon off and dance the Depression Mamba 1,2,3. How about you? Do you know what to do with your leisure time? You may be about to have a whole lot more of it.

Hi, this is Arthur Levine. To read the complete Special Report on what to do in an economic depression or recession please go to

Thursday, September 11, 2008

45 Caliber Books--a Labor of Love, Insanity, and Whiskey.

45 Caliber Books quietly opened its doors on Monday, September 08, 2008, after many, many hours of intense labor, a few bouts of sleep-deprived insanity, and more than one bottle of fine Tennessee sipping whiskey, according to one of the site's founders.

This seeds of this project were planted over three years ago, when the need for an alternative bookselling site that had readers, authors and publishers best interests at heart was first recognized by a few forward-looking individuals. However, the idea remained just that, a seed, until the recent strong-arm tactics of Amazon came to light last February. And that's when the idea took serious root and began to grow.

The site is unique in too many aspects to list here, but a couple of the more interesting options available to authors and publishers include editing their listings, 24/7, and the ability to embed buy buttons to author or publisher's personal shopping cart within the book pages themselves, in addition to the Paypal Buy Now option offered by the site. Consumers purchase books directly from the participating author or publisher--45 Caliber Books does not receive any money in the transaction.

To bring readers to the best deals authors and publishers can afford to offer them, 45 Caliber Books is currently looking for authors and publishers to stock their virtual shelves with books for sale to the general reading public. E-Books, paperbacks, hardcovers, audio, DVDs, all are welcome. Registration is always free and the ultra-low annual listing fee of one dollar per book has been waived until the first of the year. Check out the Listing TOS on the drop-down menu under Members, click on the How This Site Works for their general T&C, then tour a sample book page or two.

A couple of other points to ponder: ten cents a sale--on the honor system; and if you have several versions of your book to sell--say, a paperback as well as an e-Book, a hardcover plus a paperback plus an e-Book--you are encouraged to embed buy buttons to each version within the main book listing page at no extra charge.

"We don't believe authors and publishers should have to pay us to list each version of their book on our site," said Mari Bushman, spokesperson for 45 Caliber Books as well as author and editor for Jigsaw Press. "That's just another way to rip-off the author or publisher that ultimately results in higher prices to the consumer. We want to see the readers get a fair shake and the authors and publishers make a little money for a change."

"Speaking for myself and on behalf of my silent partners," she said, "our sole impetus in creating this site has been and is to give readers a place to connect directly with authors and publishers that doesn't hold anyone's wallet hostage in the process. We want to leave this part of the publishing world--especially the readers, authors and publishers--better off than we found it. This is truly a labor of love, and maybe insanity, for all of us. If we make enough after operating expenses and marketing for a bottle of fine Tennessee sipping whiskey, we'll be more than satisfied."

Mari Bushman
45 Caliber Books
784 US Hwy 89
Vaughn, MT, 59487
Toll-free number 877-833-1445

Friday, September 5, 2008

Answer The Question

Today with the Computer, Voice Mail, Email, and the Internet in general acting as a buffer, people don’t have to respond to a question directly.

What happened to a direct, look in your eye response? Why can’t today’s generation answer a question?

Even in person people have become non-responsive. When asked why a mistake was made the answer has become, I can’t answer that right now or I’ll get back to you.

Answer the question.

When asked if it’s going to be a boy or a girl the answer is we are not telling anyone.

When asked if you are voting democratic or republican in the upcoming election the answer is that’s my personal business or I haven’t decided. What are you ashamed of?

When asked if you are for or against the Surge in the Iraq war the answer is it hasn’t worked politically yet. Are you for it or against it?

Are you for or against defending the nation militarily if necessary?

Answer the question.

Are you pro life or pro choice or neither?

Are you prejudiced or color blind or bigoted?

Does anything really matter to you or are you just going with the flow?

Are you prepared to make a commitment or not?

Answer the question.

Do you really know who you are and what you stand for?

Do you have an opinion on anything?

We have become a nation of non-responders, a mass of zombie like blobs walking around without a sense of commitment to our families, our country, or ourselves.

We are trying to live life on the safe side by not responding to the questions life raises.

We are trying to avoid confrontation by keeping our opinions to ourselves.

We are attempting to be on both sides of the important issues of our times in order to eliminate the possibility of creating a hostile atmosphere or conflict.

You can’t have it both ways. In order to make a difference, in order to effect a more perfect union both nationally, internationally, and personally, we are going to have to take a stand.

Is this no man’s land of decision making capability the way you want to live? Don’t you want to make a difference? Do you care enough to want to do something worthwhile with your life?

Answer the question.

Friday, May 23, 2008

What Do You Think

Hi Folks, I am tired of telling you what I think Johnny Oops has to say. How about you letting me know what you would like to hear Johnny talk about. Johnny and I can't wait to hear what you have to say.

Johnny says forget about the fact that he is just a fictional character in a novel called Johnny Opps. In terms of answering your questions or giving advice he is as real as he can be.

Have a happy holiday.

Your friend,


Thursday, May 15, 2008

Are You Real?

Are you real or living in a virtual reality world? Are your strings being pulled by some giant alien puppet master whose intelligence we cannot even fathom? Are we all part of a great big game for his or her entertainment?

Do you feel like you have been here before and done the same thing before? Does the pattern of your life seem all too familiar?

Sometimes when my imagination gets the better of me I wonder if I am real, or just a pawn in someone else’s grand design. I don’t mind if the someone else is God, but God help me – what if it is some alien intelligence that is pulling my strings and making me do the things I do.

Sometimes my imagination gets the better of me and I wonder if this is so. Sometimes I question my faith.

Am I real, or just some phony charlatan – an imposter in someone else’s world – a joke – a comic character?

Most of the time I take myself very seriously, and firmly believe that I am real, but I still have doubts. What about you?

Do you question your lack of emotional involvement sometimes? Do you wonder where your passion and lust for life has gone? Do you sometimes feel more like a spectator than a real participant in the game of life?

I have so many questions, and so few answers. How about you? Do you know who you are and what your purpose in life is, or do you question your very existence?

I want answers. How about you?

Sometimes I let my imagination run wild and imagine that I can reinvent myself – make myself into some one truly wonderful like a guru or a prophet, but then I wake up and it is just the same old me doing the same old things.

Why the need to question myself? Why do I feel there has to be more to life? Why do I sometimes question my faith?

This is not a game I am playing. This is my life, as I know it. This is as real as it is going to get for me. What about you, do you question yourself? Do you wonder if you are real?

It’s reached a point where I am writing a novel about a young man who questions if he is really a prophet or a charlatan. I don’t have all the answers. Maybe you can help by adding your thoughts to whether we are real. If you have better answers or words than me I could always change the ending of the novel and give you credit. Maybe we could all begin again and discover a new reality.

Hi, this is Arthur Levine. Please leave your thoughts in the comment section on whether we are real.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

I’m Not An Expert, But

I know a good deal when I see one.

I can see the beauty all around me.

I can smell the sweet perfume of flowers.

I can hold my head high.

I can have faith in God.

I can love my family.

I can care about others.

I can do the best that I can do.

I can be all that I can be.

I can feel wonderful.

What about you, are you a non-expert too? Have you got the courage to make the most out of your life? Are you ready to be all that you can be?

Take a deep breath and let’s begin.

The way to start being all that you can be I think is to get rid of your inhibitions so that you can use your imagination to envision how wonderful you will feel when you try and do your best.

I’m not an expert, but believing in what you are doing has almost always worked for me.

You know what I am talking about: that sense of satisfaction that comes from a job well done, that feeling of contentment when you know you have done your best.

Try and remember all the times you have felt good about yourself. Was there a special reason? Did you do something different than you usually do? Did you make a special effort? Did you shake off old taboos so that you could use your imagination to see things more clearly?

I’m not an expert, but trying to get rid of my inhibitions and using my imagination to determine what is possible almost always works for me.

I think you don’t have to be an expert to know what you want, and to do what you feel is right.

You know the feeling I am talking about; the one you get when you know that what you are doing is right.

I’m no expert, but I think one of the most important things you can do is to follow your instincts. That’s right, do what comes naturally. Make the most of the knowledge and experience that you have. Be prepared to change course when your instincts tell you to follow another path.

Be prepared to fell wonderful when you get rid of your inhibitions and follow your instincts. Be prepared to make the most of your life. I’m no expert, but my instincts tell me this is the way things should be.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

How To Get What You Want And Are Dreaming Of

Ten Steps To Happiness

The first step is to decide what you really want. A lot of people spend their time chasing other people’s dreams. Do you know what you want out of life? Are you prepared to follow your own dream?

The second step is to have the proper attitude. You can’t expect to be successful in your life if you don’t have faith in yourself and in what you are doing. Do you have the proper attitude?

The third step is to follow your dream. It is not enough to wish for something. You have to help make it happen. You have to make an effort. Are you ready to take action?

The fourth step is to get rid of the inhibitions that are keeping you from following your dream. Are you too tied down by traditions and taboos to follow your heart?

The fifth step is to use your imagination. When you start to believe that good things can happen, and when you visualize them happening in your mind, all kinds of great things can happen. Can you unlock your mind and use your imagination to follow your dreams?

The sixth step is to have faith. How are you going to succeed if you don’t have faith in yourself and in God? Do you have faith?

The seventh step is to get rid of stress. It is holding you back from being all that you can be. Are you too worried about what is going on in your life to take action and make things better?

The eighth step is to be social and have friends and loved ones. You need to have people you can share your dreams and thoughts with if you want them to have true meaning. Do you have someone to share your hopes with? You don’t want to be alone, do you?

The ninth step is to take charge of your life. Make a plan and stick to it. Set your goals and don’t allow anything or any one to prevent you from fulfilling your dreams. Do you have a plan for life?

The tenth and most important step is to be yourself. You have to believe that you are a good and decent person if you want to be happy and successful. You have to believe in yourself. Do you believe in yourself? Are you convinced that you are going to be all that you can be?

The next move is up to you. Sometimes it is more important to be able to come up with the right questions than to have the right answers.

Do you know what questions to ask yourself to make your life happier and more complete? Take a step in the right direction. Ask yourself a soul-searching question. Discover the truth within you.

If you want to find out how to get what you want and are dreaming of, check out the ten steps to happiness and other articles and excerpts from the novel Johnny Oops at

Monday, April 14, 2008

Excerpt Johnny Oops - CHAPTER 34 -- THE PROPHET’S NEW LOVE

Johnny Senior was frankly relieved to get rid of Jody with her non-stop lecturing, and Sonja whatever his real name was with his rules on abstinence, celibacy, and nutrition.

As far as Johnny was concerned he was an independent Prophet now with no one to answer to, or cause him to look over his shoulder, and no one to second-guess him.

It didn’t take him long to find someone to become his playmate. The object of his latest perverted passion was one Carla Shenk. She was a beautiful eighteen-year-old redhead exchange student from Austria who had become a member of the flock.

Carla shared Johnny’s passion for bondage and his sadistic inclinations; in fact she far exceeded them. One has to wonder why the Prophet got such a kick out of self-mutilation. Maybe it was because he secretly loathed what he had become and wanted to punish himself.

The two of them made quite a sight with their blazing red hair and Johnny with his reddish beard. Someone made the comment that they looked like Santa Claus and his wife in reverse, only on a strict diet and in the nude, well almost nude. Johnny had shucked his flowing robes for the latest tight fitting shirts and brown leather pants. Carla of course sans bra chose to dress the same.

The two of them enjoyed going out, but didn’t like everyone staring at them. They decided to go away on a long ski weekend to an exclusive Ski Resort at Aspen Colorado. They assumed they could enjoy their privacy there. They were wrong.

No sooner had they arrived and checked into their hotel than the local paparazzi started following them and taking their pictures no matter where they went. They weren’t safe in the restaurants, the discos, or on the slopes so they decided to stay in and order room service from the hotel.

When breakfast was delivered they discovered that a photographer had bribed the bellboy, switched outfits with him, and was taking pictures with a camera hidden in the idiot’s jacket lapel.

Johnny got furious and insisted that the hotel manager himself bring them a four day supply of food and wine.

“They would cook it themselves in the suite’s kitchenette,” He told the manager, “I don’t want anyone entering this suite for the next four days, not even the maid. We will clean the damn place ourselves.”

Of course they never cleaned anything, but boy they sure did make a hell of a mess in the kitchenette.

Johnny and Carla settled down for a weekend of kinky sex. They tried every conceivable type of weirdo stuff they could manager without the proper S&M equipment. They hadn’t brought much with them. About the only thing Carla could find in her suitcase was a whip, some masking tape, and handcuffs.

“This will have to do my pet,” Carla said, “It’s all I have. We will just have to use our imaginations.”

Somewhere along the line on the second night of their stay, Johnny made the mistake of telling Carla, “You have no imagination bitch. You keep doing the same thing over and over. The Prophet is bored with you, get lost.”

Oops, Johnny shouldn’t have said that while he was handcuffed and bound to the bed.
Carla went into a rage. First she whipped him bloody with her whip. Then when he started to scream and beg for mercy she covered his mouth with the last of the masking tape.

Next Carla gave the Prophet a lecture telling him, “You are an over the hill bastard at twenty two. I’ve had better sex with my dog. You are an inconsiderate monster who doesn’t care about other people’s feelings. I thought I loved you. Boy was I wrong. You’re pathetic.” With that she packed her bag and left the hotel in a huff never to be seen in those parts again.

Late on the fourth day, the manager responding to complaints by hotel guests that a strange smell was coming from Johnny’s room; disregarded his instructions and entered the suite followed by two photographers who had made the manager an offer he was too greedy to refuse.

What they found would make these paparazzi rich men. The scandal sheets would pay a fortune for the photos. They didn’t stop shooting. They discovered Johnny naked and spread eagle on the bed. He was handcuffed to the four-poster bed frame. His feet and mouth were bound with masking tape, and on his stomach Carla had written in red lipstick, “Some Prophet, he’s pathetic.”

It was over. The scandal would ruin the Institute. Johnny was no Prophet, he was just a pathetic sex maniac, and soon the whole world would know it. The manager finally managed to get Johnny out of his restraints and took the masking tape off his mouth. Johnny was alive, but practically too weak to speak from the lack of food and water.

Johnny whispered in a hoarse raspy voice, “I was just trying to crucify myself to save my flock from the end of the world. I am offering myself up to pay for their sins.”

This last statement wouldn’t wash. The pictures told the real story. Johnny the Prophet was finished. The Institute was finished. Dialectic Spiritualism was finished.

Jody flew home with Jason in a vain attempt to save her precious Institute. This time even she couldn’t stem the tide of the impending disaster. The paparazzi took pictures of them getting off the plane from France arm in arm. They labeled it Infidelity Dialectic Style in the press photos.

Johnny Junior arrived at Rancho Santa Fee where the family was gathering. He told the reporters, “I am here to save the day. I am the one true Prophet. I have the ‘word’ now.

It was just about his last ‘word’. Junior was mobbed by a bevy of former lovers including at least a half a dozen movie starlets carrying signs reading, “He gave me the clap.”

Junior’s goose was cooked. The paparazzi took pictures of him slinking out of the garage carrying a cardboard box, which they labeled, “Antibiotics,” for the sake of the scandal sheets using their photos.

Vividly Magazine ran a picture on its cover of the whole family with the caption, “The County’s most dysfunctional well known family.”

There was a small inset photo of the Prophet spread eagle on the bed. They placed a large Red Cross over his pecker to hide it and included a small sub-heading, which read, “This is as sick as it gets.”

Senseless Magazine not to be out circulated ran a cover picture of Johnny as a young boy on one side and as a grown Prophet on the other with a big headline reading, “Innocence turns Rancid.”

The article started off by saying: “Let us introduce you to Johnny Oops, the worlds leading charlatan and fake. Where has all the money gone Johnny? What have you done with the people’s faith?

That was enough for the IRS. They cancelled their entire fall season and had over five hundred agents swoop down on the Institute, and impound the entire facility, all the Institute’s bank accounts, and its various Post Office Boxes used to collect donations from the faithful.

The IRS issued a statement saying, “This is shaping up as the worst case of tax avoidance by a phony non profit organization that we have ever seen. These people should all face criminal prosecution.”

With the flock deserting in droves, their resources frozen, and the public against them, Johnny went on the attack. He went on a leading TV news program and made the following statement, “My people they are trying to persecute us for our beliefs. We have seen this happen before in history. Do not let the infidels and bureaucrats deceive you. Dialectic Spiritualism is the voice of the future. Don’t let the establishment throw you back into darkness. Come with me. See the light. Reach out and touch someone. Show that you really care about their private parts: the parts of them that make them essential human beings, the parts that bring us all together in a harmony of passion and virtue. The parts that exemplify the moral imperative of fulfilling your needs and satisfying your urges."

Oops, I guess it was this last part, which caused the adverse reaction. The audience rose up and stormed the stage. They carried Johnny out of the TV studio and dumped him in the sewer where they said he belonged. They kicked and pummeled him nearly to death before the police arrived to disperse the angry mob.

Johnny was left broken and sobbing in the filth of the sewer. His dream of a better world was gone. His hope for a better future was destroyed. His irrational belief in himself as someone who would make a difference was crushed.

When he was finally carted off in an ambulance he sobbed out, “My people, be of good faith. I shall return. You have not seen the last of Johnny Oops. Remember the plane crash. Prepare for my next coming.”

Poor Johnny, no one was listening. He was yesterday’s news. He had broken faith with the people, and they were in no mood to forgive him. He had committed the cardinal sin of thinking he could actually walk on water, and then trying to do it. He had drowned himself in a flurry of self-destructive activities befitting a true sado masochist.

The Prophet hadn’t been able to prophesize his own demise. Or was it just going to be another opportunity for a spiritual rebirth?

On his way to the hospital Johnny bemoaned his fate. In a semi-conscious state he wondered, “What has happened to Johnny Oops? Where have I gone wrong? What happened to my promise? Who am I? What is to become of me? Why am I being tested this way?”

Monday, April 7, 2008


Grandma Jenny slipped shoveling snow off the front steps of our home in the midst of a fearsome snow storm at the age of ninety-six and broke her hip. She was a feisty little woman who weighed only ninety-five pounds and stood four feet-nine inches tall. The shovel was bigger than Grandma. You might wonder why she was out shoveling snow early in the morning at her advanced age, but it was part of her stubborn and cantankerous nature. And it was a part of her tradition. She didn’t want my father going to work and getting his feet wet in the snow. It was a matter of respect for the man of the house. It was a matter of faith in her traditions. It was her way.

Grandma was from the old country – Russia to be specific. She came to the United States as a girl of fourteen traveling for fifteen days on a tramp steamer, and surviving on bread and water. She lost her provisions, her money, and her clothes on the trip over to thieves that hounded naïve, unsuspecting young girls such as her as a normal part of refugee voyages in those days. Most people though it was the work of greedy members of the crew. She arrived in this country penniless and literally with only the clothes on her back. But nothing could stop Grandma from making a new life in the land of her dreams, or bringing with her the rituals and traditions that were an innate part of her heritage, her faith, and of her very being.

Until she slipped and broke her hip, Grandma Jenny had always been healthy. None of us in the family could remember her having a cold. She attributed her good health to a secret potion of Elderberry Brandy that she distilled in the attic of our Georgian Colonial House. I have no idea where she got the Elderberries from or how she prepared the brew. We were never allowed up to her special place in the attic to see what she was doing. Everything that Grandma did was a secret.

Grandma had a shot of the special potion when she woke up in the morning and when she went to bed at night, that much she told us. To the best of my knowledge it was the only medicine she ever took. On rare occasions such as holidays and birthdays, we were all invited to join her for a sip of her Elderberry Brandy. I was allowed to participate from the time I was a teenager. Boy did that stuff pack a wallop. It is no wonder that Grandma was never sick. The brandy must have killed the germs. My dad didn’t really like it. He was a scotch man. My mother struggled to swallow it. She didn’t drink. We all participated in the ritual. No one in the family was about to insult Grandma Jenny. She was too tough a cookie to be trifled with.

On one of the rare occasions when Grandma Jenny bothered to talk to me, communication was a problem since she spoke only Russian; I asked her what was so special about the secret potion? She sort of half smiled at me indicating that when I was more mature I would understand, pointing at my head. Grandma was great at the universal language of hand signals. I do understand a little Russian, but I don’t speak the language. Fortunately for me Grandma did understand English except when she chose to pretend that she didn’t. Even the dog understood Russian because Grandma fed him and he didn’t speak at all. When she called him to come and get it in Russian, he came running. No one disobeyed Grandma. The dog was a huge Boxer named Slugger. It was amazing to see him cower in front of my Grandmother, and wait for her command allowing him to eat. He sure didn’t act like that with my father or me. He once jumped up on my Dad and pushed him so hard that he fell down and dislocated his shoulder. Slugger wouldn’t dare jump up on my Grandma. The dog knew better.

After Grandma passed away, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was so special about her secret potion and how to make it. Grandma wasn’t big on measurements or recipes. She insisted that you just add a little bit of this and a little bit of that. This was the way she talked when someone wanted to know how to make her yeast coffee cake or her saffron laced ginger-carrot candy. Unfortunately the secrets died with her.

I think I finally have the answer when it comes to her secret potion. It wasn’t the herbs that she added. It wasn’t how high the alcohol content was. It was the love with which she made it and dispensed it to the whole family. It represented to her a melding of old traditions and new rituals. It symbolized her faith in God, and the respect she had for our family and our Country. It was a way for her to celebrate her freedom. It was her way of communicating to us in a language of kindness and caring that we could all understand.

Sometimes when I sip a little brandy late at night to help calm me from the stress of the day and the threat of terrorism or natural disasters, I wonder, couldn’t we all use a little of Grandma’s secret potion to help us through these troubled times? The commercial stuff doesn’t seem to be doing the trick anymore. It lacks the tradition of caring, kindness, and love necessary to make it a special brew. It lacks that personal faith-filled touch of Grandma Jenny. It doesn’t have her tenacious character or her will to survive. It lacks respect.

There are some things that you can’t put in a bottle, smack a label on, and expect to work miracles. Sometimes you have to find the right ingredients in your own heart. Sometimes you have to distill them yourself. Sometimes the secret potion of faith is within you.

Friday, March 21, 2008

Easter – Its origins and relationship to Pagans and Passover

I’m confused about Easter, how about you? There seems to be much scholarly discourse that links the Christian tradition of Easter to the Jewish tradition of Passover and to certain Pagan rituals and beliefs that came before them. There is even some dispute over the actual date of Christ’s death and resurrection, but the faith that each of us hold in our hearts cannot be in dispute. This I believe.

The name Easter may have first been associated with an ancient Goddess, The Venerable Bede, (672-735). She was the mother Goddess of the Saxon people in Northern Europe who was known as Eastra.

Many Pagan religions in the Mediterranean area had a major seasonal day of religious celebration following the Spring Equinox. Cybele, the Phrygian fertility goddess had a fictional consort named Attis who was believed to have been born in a virgin birth and to have died and been resurrected each year during the March 22 to March 25th period around 200 B.C. Wherever Christian worship of Jesus and Pagan worship of Attis were active in the same area at around the same time, Christians and Pagans used to quarrel about which of their gods was the true one.

Some religious historians believe that the death and resurrection legends were first associated with Attis many centuries before the birth of Christ. One theory is that they were simply grafted onto stories of Jesus’ in order to make Christian theology more acceptable to Pagans.

My own opinion is that we shouldn’t worry too much about what the experts say. I think its what you feel in your heart and soul that counts at this holy time of year. I think it’s your family traditions, your personal beliefs, and the religious rituals you have grown up with that really matter.

Easter has Judeo-Christian origins. The life of Jesus Christ as recorded in the gospels includes the Christian version of this theme. Good Friday is observed in remembrance of Jesus’ execution by an occupying Roman army, and his burial in a cave. Easter Sunday is the date when a group of his female followers first noticed that the tomb was empty, and concluded that he had been resurrected.

The timing of the Christian celebration of Easter is linked to the Jewish celebration of Passover. The name Passover was derived from the angel of death passing over homes of Jews, which were marked, with the blood of a lamb thus sparing the first born of such homes. Liberal Theologians link Passover to ancient pre-Israelite Pagan rituals practiced by wandering Semitic shepherds in celebration of an agricultural harvest using unleavened bread.

Passover was the most important feast of the Jewish calendar, celebrated around the 22nd of March. The Synoptic gospels of Mark, Mathew, and Luke stated that Jesus’ last supper was a Seder or Passover celebration.

Most Christians believe that Jesus Christ was executed and buried just before the beginning of Passover on Friday evening. A minority believes that the execution occurred on a Wednesday or Thursday. Some liberal Christians have suggested that the early Christian Church arbitrarily selected Passover as the time thus allowing them to link the most important religious days in Judaism and Christianity.

Whatever your personal beliefs are, whatever the actual dates are, don’t let the skeptics amongst us deter you from celebrating your religious beliefs and traditions. Don’t let those of little faith keep you from believing.

Easter is a Christian Festival, which celebrates Christ’s Resurrection. Today eggs are decorated and exchanged with friends and family to commemorate the unification of all God’s children. In ancient times eggs were exchanged to symbolize the continuance of life after death. Early Christianity is thought to have adopted the idea and incorporated it into their Easter celebration. Let the celebration continue.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Our Spirits Will Dance Together

What ever happened to the new America we were going to build together? What ever happened to our promise? Have we been lulled to sleep with a false sense of security? Have we forgotten the quest for freedom that our forefathers passioned for, and died for? What happened to our traditions?

Where is our merit? Did it evaporate in our greed for material accomplishment? Have we sacrificed our souls for meaningless benefits?

One might ask why all the questions? Have we nothing better to do than speculate on what could have been? Why can’t we relish in the here and now, and forget about the consequences the future has in store for us?

Why can’t we have some peace of mind?

Is it because our vision is distorted by false pride, and false promises? Why are we willing to believe in economic and political promises and compromises that we know in our hearts are not true or worthwhile? What are we so scared of? Is it the truth?

I think the problem is that we are not well grounded in that which we know in our hearts to be true. We know we can be more than we have been. We know that we can do more than we have done. We know we can care more than we have allowed ourselves to, but then why don’t we? Why don’t we bother? Why don’t we make the effort?

I think we have to try again. I think we have to force ourselves to do what we know is right. I think we have to find our satisfaction in fulfilling our promise, and in having something to believe in again. I think we have to start having faith in ourselves and in God again. That’s what’s missing – it is the faith of our forefathers.

Let’s come together in a new alliance of the possible. Let’s feel the ecstasy of working with one goal in mind. Let’s forsake petty prejudices and concentrate on organizing the intellectual wealth of our true intentions. Let’s make the world a better place for you and I and our families and our children.

Come; let our spirits dance together as the music of a new beginning pleasures our ears. There is no better time to follow the rhythmic beat of a better future. There is no better time to fulfill our promise.

Can you hear the music? The melody of compassion is calling to us. Can you hear the tap, tap beat of the true desire of our hearts? Come; let our spirits dance together. We will float across a new horizon as the music moves us to a better mood.

Hi this is Arthur Levine the author of the novel Johnny Oops. Please join us to read more articles about Johnny Oops at

Thursday, March 6, 2008

I’m Listening As Hard As I Can

I’m listening as hard as I can, but the silence is deafening. Why won’t you talk to me? Don’t you have something to say to me?

Every once in a while I hear a tiny whisper; a little murmur, as if you were trying to say something, trying to communicate, trying to form a union or meeting of our minds, but I can’t understand you.

Won’t you please speak up?

I know you have vast knowledge and important things to say. I know you mean well and have my best interests at heart. I know you love me, but why can’t I hear you.

Won’t you please speak up?

In my mind I imagine we are talking and smiling and laughing together, but I can’t quite catch your drift. What are you saying that is making me laugh? Why are you smiling? Your thoughts are not clear to me.

Won’t you please speak up?

Sometimes I feel as if we are passing in separate canoes down a raging river shouting something at each other, but the roar of the rushing waters keeps me from hearing you, and it keeps us apart.

Won’t you please speak up?

Sometimes I feel like we are strangers passing each other on our way home from work at night without a word or a nod of greeting. I know you know me, and I know you. Why won’t you recognize my virtue? Why don’t you say what is in your heart?

Won’t you please speak up?

There are times when I feel all alone, yet in the back of my mind I know you are there. Can’t you feel my desire? Don’t you know I want to embrace? Where are you? Don’t leave me here all alone. I need to know you are there.

Won’t you please speak up?

Is this the way it is always to be between us? Will out petty prejudices and hang-ups keep us apart? Are we never to know the beautiful music we could make together as we interact? Have you no mercy?

Won’t you please speak up?

Sometimes when I am asleep, I dream that we are together; gathered in a beautiful field of nature’s grand design. And we are holding hands, and talking to each other and singing sweet songs of happiness.

In my dreams I can hear you. I can hear what you are shouting to me. I agree. It’s time we came together. It’s time we made love, not war. It’s time we stopped our petty squabbling about different traditions we do not even remember the reason for. It’s time we remembered how we started, and that in the beginning we were of one desire. Together we can make a difference. Together we can change the world. Together we can make something wonderful happen.

It’s time we both spoke up and made a new beginning.

Can you hear me?

Friday, February 29, 2008

Sex Sells – Dead Fish Smell

I am so glad that I am a fictional character in a novel. I don’t have to worry about the tricks I use to get you to read what I have to say. For example I got you to click on this article so it must be true that sex sells, but what does it sell? Does it offer happiness and or riches? Can it keep you from being lonely, or does it leave you feeling like a dead fish? Personally I have no sense of smell so it really doesn’t matter to me.

Speaking of dead fish, I was thinking about all the bright ideas and concepts that have ended up smelling like dead fish in the last year. There are so many. I wonder if in review of a few we can come up with a pattern of what not to do, and maybe even get a little insight into what we should do.

What ever happened to amnesty for illegal aliens? Did it die a legislative death because someone forgot to lock the barn door before prejudice and bigotry had a chance to get out, or is protecting our borders really the moral high ground, or are we all a bunch of cattle grazing in never, never land?

Maybe what we have to do is to reexamine our priorities. Are our personal prejudices worth sacrificing our moral values for? When if ever do we exhibit the character of our convictions?

What ever became of sportsmanship in sports? Did winning the game take over playing the game the right way? Did steroids become the performance drug of choice? Why do we watch games like football of baseball or hockey to begin with? Is it to see the violence? Is it to see who can hit the ball with more power? Is it to see who can cheat and win, and get away with it?

Maybe we have to reexamine why we like sports to begin with. Is it to see real talent do something wonderful with their natural mental and physical skills?

Why are our homes being foreclosed on, our credit markets disrupted, and our financial institutions experiencing large loses? Why are we running huge international deficits, and becoming dependant on countries like China and Saudi Arabia to finance our trade imbalances? Are we hooked on cheap imports and expensive oil?

Maybe it’s because we are playing musical chairs with our financial future, and the music is stopping, and we are not prepared to compete in the real world. Maybe it’s because we have tried to create wealth out of new fangled financial instruments and services that are not based on real values or real assets, and they and their faulty premises are coming undone. Maybe it’s because we have allowed the few to enrich themselves at the expense of the many, and it is all falling apart now that consumers have little left to borrow against with which to consume.

Maybe what we need to do is to return to basic values both in assets and in moral equity and in our spending and saving habits.

Why do nominees for high elective office lie and make things up. Is it to win our votes? Why do they run to begin with? Is it to gain power? Whose interests do they really have at heart – theirs or ours? How will we ever know before we vote them into office?

Maybe we should have trial periods for elected officials where each of the most popular nominees gets an equal chance to see what they would really do for the people when they get into office. Then we could make an educated choice. Maybe we need a constitutional amendment to allow us to have a President in training.

Why are our Congress, the Executive Branch, and the Supreme Court so ineffective at expressing the will of the people? Do they have their own priorities mixed up? Is this all part of a power play that benefits only them and the special interests?

Maybe we common folk, the consumers of product and services in this great land, need to express our displeasure by not buying anything made by companies who don’t have our best interests at heart. Maybe we ought to let these special interests know that we are not going to take their abuse of what’s in our best interests any more. Maybe we ought to start to express ourselves. Maybe we ought to tell the powers that be that we are tired of expensive oil, inferior products, and paying for medicines and medical treatments that we can’t afford and which aren’t working, and we are not going to do it any more.

When are we going to organize our spending habits and purchasing power so that the dead fish that these special interests and power hungry politicians are trying to sell us start to rot and smell in the light of day.

Maybe its time we started to exercise the natural instincts that God instilled in both our sexes. Maybe its time we started doing what comes naturally. Maybe it’s time to start making love; not war.

I think it’s time to mobilize our power in the interests of the greater good.

Maybe it’s time to start having faith in ourselves again. Maybe it’s time to start believing in our Country, and our God, and our freedom again. Maybe it’s time we started to value our lives again, and realize how much we have to be proud of, how much we have to be thankful for, and how much we have to protect.

Maybe we can put our heads together and come up with some of the answers.

Hi, this is Arthur Levine. To read more about Johnny’s opinions on world events or to add your own, please visit us at