The Nut Factory

The Nut Factory

by Brian Thomas Armstrong

    When I first arrived here I would sleep in the back of a truck-bed in my living room. I would wake up in the morning with nothing much to do, wondering, searching in my mind as to what I should partake in during my stay here - and then I found the factory, the old man told his visitor, with an enthused gleam in his eye.

    I started out by pulling taffy, and then tediously but joyously stretching it back and forth along the long walls of the factory’s warehouse. I then started making furniture so that I would have something to sit in while chewing on the fruits of my laborious creations. Then I started making shoes for the long walks I endured, and then grew to love, along the trail that I take to the market located in the middle of our town square in order to sell all the goods that I make, the old man said, brimming with pride.

    My success grew remarkably fast, so I then hired some of the locals that no one else would seem to hire, although they were perfectly fine men and women in my view,  and together we built the small industrial empire that you see here today, all based on candy and shoes that took the local business community around here by great surprise, creating many friends, and also a few formidable enemies if you know what I mean , he winked at his visitor looking very satisfied with himself – I am very very busy now as you can see, and I can hardly remember that dark place the state of my mind seemed to be trapped in before, when I was actively drinking that is. “I know how you feel pop, I’ve also been in that same dark place many times before,” the old man’s son told him in a somewhat solemn response. I’m very busy now as you can see, and I really must go, his father repeated once more. His son told him he wanted to come visit him again soon, and also bring some books back for him to read next time. Oh yes please do - said his father - but never mind the books, there is much for you to learn and do here, and I am in desperate need of help with my factory, as you can see I am very busy here. “I would like that allot pop,” replied his son, a sad smile was on his face as a tear started to well up in his eye. There was also a frazzled looking, somewhat confused and distracted smile on his father’s face as well, as father and son faced each other from across the long wooden table. Very fine then, said the old man, it was assuredly nice to see you again, and as I said before, I am very very busy here, and the factory needs me as you can see.  “OK pop, it was great to see you too,” he reached over and held/shook his dads hand for a brief minute, and then he stood up and left the room, forcing himself not to look back at his father as he walked away.

    The son looked back at the tall ominous brick building that housed/incarcerated his father as he often did, while walking slowly away from it towards his automobile in the always half empty dirt parking lot in front of the asylum. He was once again trying desperately to hold back the flood of welling tears that threatened to pour down the front of his youthful face. This was a sad routine he knew very well, and expected every time he left one of his few and fewer in-between visits with his disturbed father. He made another silent vow to himself that he would visit the institution more often – after all, his father certainly needed him now, more than he ever had before.

Meth = Death

Liquid Souls

Trapped Behind the Wires

The Southern Child Exodus Problem

The Southern Child Exodus Problem
by Brian Thomas Armstrong

When President George W. Bush signed the law into effect in 2008 that guaranteed immigration hearings for most unaccompanied minors caught trying to cross the Mexican and Canadian border, there was little to no objection nor protest from society, nor the two main political factions of Republicans or Democrats that control American society, and certainly not from the religious right to which Bush was pandering to at the time, using child sex trafficking as the main justification for the enactment of the law.

The present day immigration problems and controversies brewing over these unaccompanied immigrant children, are that the law only covers children who are foreign citizens from our neighboring borders/countries of Mexico and Canada with assured lengthy and expensive due process rights once apprehended by U.S. authorities, not South American and other countries unaccompanied children. The combination of that law and Obama’s past perceived soft spot,  especially down south for immigration reform and easier pathways to citizenship have opened up the flood gates of illegal immigration crossings on our border with Mexico, especially children to overwhelming proportions. The perpetrating South American countries, their people, and their governments certainly haven’t changed in the past decade, the governments and therefore the main offending countries of Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador are just as corrupt, violent, and miserable to live in if you’re not a wealthy tourist as they have always been. What has changed is that Children “refugee’s” from their nations chaos has become the highlight news story in America. A family with children, single moms with kids, and of course the lone migrant worker were easily lumped in together for deportation with-out pulling to many heart strings in the media, or of course the main staple of American social hysteria, - Republican, Democrat, and somewhere in-between factions that perpetually use crisis, any form of crisis, to their vindictive and selfish political advantages.

The cost of housing and feeding these children is not “really” the issue here. After spending billions upon billions on senseless wars that go nowhere, and then sit back and watch the places we invaded after we pull out revert back to even more chaos than when we first interjected ourselves on these countries lives, when we of course finally get tired of the enormous cost, or all of a sudden once again realize/remember the futility/folly of war - we as a people can hardly bitch about how much it will cost us to feed hungry children. This is truly a political crisis, a humanitarian crisis, a local government spending crisis along the southern border, but hardly a national crisis for American society. What this crisis is to the Average American, and should be, is a crisis of conscience. 

What should be done about this new immigration “crisis” you say – we should simply follow our laws as they stand now, follow our hearts and American sense of decency and humanity, thus redeeming ourselves in the eyes of the World, God, and most importantly Ourselves.

Brian Thomas Armstrong – The Southern Child Exodus Problem
The Social Hysteria Blog – http://thesocialhysteriablog.com

American Made Foreign Enemies

Maybe we should actually promote peace instead of using that quote as a cover story to promote war!

U.S. Border Control

Fighting South American smuggler propaganda to the local peasants with truth and reality from America's local peasants!

The Ghost of Public Have-Nots

High Plains Grifter

A Social Esteem Problem

A Social Esteem Problem
by Brian Thomas Armstrong

A glance in the mirror
A shiver of shame
Every day the mornings the same
A dread of going into school
Knowing the rule
Beauty is skin deep
And that is as far as people see
Slink down the hall
They kick my books
Go to my locker
They snicker to each other about my looks
They never care about what it’s like to be me
They don’t “feel” or “hear” me
They only see
 

Grumpy Cats Dead

Obama's flip/flop talk on child immigration and deportation

I know I do not seem like much of a “realist” when I say this but, when un-accompanied children escape from their F’ed up, crooked, dangerous, and incredibly violent country, especially towards vulnerable women and children; I quit waving the flag, wagging my tongue about how they are going to over-run and overwhelm us, and then I take them in, feed them, house them, and educate them, then you really have lived up to America’s lofty judgmental, self-righteous ideals, and showed the children and people of the world you can put your ideals, ethics, moral authority, and yes lots of excess money where your mouth is - instead of flip/ flop political talk that helps no one (World-Wide), including ourselves.  (BTA)

A Square Circle of Stars

The Happy Digital Devil

I am the savior of the world and the murderer of society. I am a crying desperate but happy sobriety confronting a miserable laughing drunk! I am ignorance, understanding, and wisdom simultaneously together in three different corners. I am human nature and therefore I am social hysteria!

Red Hill Dancers

Eye Color

God, Creed, and Family

Dark Butterflys'

Water of Life

(BTA) Made in America

Dance to Life

Skull Love

Skullkzart