Continuing my philanthropic social experiment. This is not a complaint! It's an exploration of the "Charity-Industrial Complex."
Having paid a whole bunch of charities with a concentration on animal rescue and starving children, I now get not only more solicitations but stuff from their mailing lists multiplied by each successful charity hit. I get at least a dozen begging letters every day (not Sunday) asking for my help in this CRISIS CRISIS URGENT DESPERATE any number of causes, not even political. We are stretched to the breaking point but we couldn't let these horses die! Shocking pictures of animal atrocities. Miserable exotic species captive in awful prison-like zoos! Thousands of kittens experimented on (I knew they would get to the kittens sooner or later) PUPPIES TORTURED! Save the horses: the used-up race horses, Arabian horses, draft horses, abandoned donkeys! SAVE THE DONKEYS! Save the innocent donkeys (remember, all animals are "innocent"). Save innumerable "sweet" dogs and cats, blind dogs, laboratory dogs, helper dogs, vivisected dogs. Dogs for suffering war veterans....how did I get into the veterans section? Police dogs, armored vests for police dogs,
and all of them worthy in one way or another.
I took a break from giving. There is only so much misery in our world. It won't go away, ever. They send me more stuff. Not only the begging letters, but coins (pennies, nickels, 50 cent pieces) trinkets, magnets, decorative gloves, material made to look "hand written" with an imitative typeface. Piles of paper, blank envelopes to draw us in by curiosity. A deck of playing cards with rescue donkeys on the back side. Please, we're desperate humans and animals, please help us! And the most prolific of all, the "FREE GIFT..." Decorative address labels, coming to me in the thousands like the leaves of fall.
You've heard this all from me before. What I realize, is that this is...fun! I like reading about the infinitesimal possibility that some human or animal is actually helped by this. You did a good thing. Or maybe you didn't. All of this is carefully manipulated to produce the most emotional response. It's our world but the donkeys and horses are still the beasts of burden.
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Monday, September 30, 2019
More Adventures in Kitchen Philanthropy
It was finally clear to me that Charity, with its endless stream of pseudo-transactional "free gifts," is actually an industry, just like the ones that shape our world day after day. Except that you are not expected to pay for your car or your bottled water by "voluntary" donation. I happened across a website for people who manage non-profit organizations (not cited here) and they were talking about the business of putting together "packages" for their clients. I think it goes: you have a cause, but you don't know how to market it. They put together a package for you with options to choose from like address labels, token coins, lists of tickets and vouchers, photographs and graphic design, etc. You just pay them to do it and you specify what you need. Am I right? I know there's at least one professional fund-raiser in this little Facebook circle of mine (Tim).
Another thing I learned is that these small-scale charities (and many of the large-scale ones too) repeat their mailings to me at intervals of about every other month, depending on how much I gave to them. Animal welfare....here comes Pickles the Pig again! Here's Randy the horse who we saved from the "Killer-Buyers!" Crisis! Urgent! Time is running out! How could you let these innocent animals be sent to the slaughterhouse? (All animals in these texts are "innocent" or "sweet," and the repetitive, emotionally intense texts all sound like they were written by the same person, which is probably true. "What do I do for my job? I write blurbs about abused animals for charities. Save the Koalas!")
Meanwhile the suffering only spreads and intensifies, both for people and animals.
I am sailing on a raft of stacked papers over a sea of pain and suffering and horror, hearing endless cries for help in the crisis! crisis! crisis! A few dollars more will especially help here! Your free gift is enclosed.
Another thing I learned is that these small-scale charities (and many of the large-scale ones too) repeat their mailings to me at intervals of about every other month, depending on how much I gave to them. Animal welfare....here comes Pickles the Pig again! Here's Randy the horse who we saved from the "Killer-Buyers!" Crisis! Urgent! Time is running out! How could you let these innocent animals be sent to the slaughterhouse? (All animals in these texts are "innocent" or "sweet," and the repetitive, emotionally intense texts all sound like they were written by the same person, which is probably true. "What do I do for my job? I write blurbs about abused animals for charities. Save the Koalas!")
Meanwhile the suffering only spreads and intensifies, both for people and animals.
I am sailing on a raft of stacked papers over a sea of pain and suffering and horror, hearing endless cries for help in the crisis! crisis! crisis! A few dollars more will especially help here! Your free gift is enclosed.
Tuesday, September 3, 2019
Kitchen Philanthropy
Kitchen Philanthropy
I decided to assuage my guilt by giving money to various charities. I was not going to actually volunteer to work there but I figured anything would count, even money.
I picked my favorite concerns: helping starving people around the world, and helping save animals from abuse and misery. I sent my first check in and felt like a generous philanthropist. (I am not revealing how much I gave to anyone.)
Within a week or two I was inundated with a stream of papers. For most of these there is no “do not share name or address.” I found myself buried in the waves of literature and Stuff. I was awash in the outflow of the “charity-industrial complex.”
This is not a complaint, I’m certainly not asking for sympathy. I am just amazed at how much energy and material I received because I participated in charity.
First was the literature, written with high emotion: CRISIS! URGENT! DESPERATE! ABANDONED! ABUSED! The solicitations contained heartbreaking stories of dying animals and people. Dogs beaten and left to die! Horses sent to slaughterhouses for their meat! Innocent little donkeys neglected and brutalized! Orphaned refugee children, Native elders frozen to death…if I read all the literature it blended into one endless scream. How could I not give? These were real, not fictional.
Next, the charities sent me a dizzying variety of tokens, usually with the message of “how could you not give, now that we’ve sent you this calendar?” I received, paid or unpaid for: Calendars, world maps, “petitions,” “vouchers,” “surveys,” “membership” cards (I received eight Audubon Society cards for one membership), refrigerator magnets, pens, little note pads, a calculator, a manicure kit, tote bags, colorful socks and gloves, coins, a very soft grey blanket, childrens’ trinkets, and dozens of other “we gave you this” solicitations. And most of all was the “free gift,” which was always and everywhere…decorative address labels. Like the snowflakes of winter, the petals of spring, the seeds of summer and the golden leaves of fall, myriad repetitions of my hateful name, address labels by the hundreds, by the thousands. If I had kept them all they would fill my entire kitchen. They were decorated with animals, children’s drawings, mountain scenes, crabs, (I received five copies of “Save the Bay”), eagles, patriotic motifs, in an endless stream. I wondered how many it would take to use in a campaign mailing. No, I’m not running for anything, except kitchen philanthropist. Can you imagine how many solicitations a real philanthropist with millions of dollars gets? And the small change coins affixed to the gift form paper, I probably have a few dollars' worth by now. And everything was “personified” with The H-Name I Hate.
Lest you think I have become deluded into giving my money into false or wrong charities, I set limits on all my giving. I toss most of them into the trash. I won’t tell you how I judge which one worthy, but I have been seen stuffing the hatch of my car with paper recycling. Those politicians are not going to respond in sympathy to abused little donkeys, and I’m not answering fake “surveys” which are only propaganda. And as soon as they received my donation, they asked for more - naturally…and they wanted me to give every month, too.
URGENT! DEADLINE ! IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED! CRISIS! CRISIS! YOUR GIFT WILL BE MATCHED BY A DONATION…They’ve taken to having their gifts matched in modest or unreasonable amounts. I have no idea whether that is real or not, or whether any of this is real. Again…have I cast all my money into some corrupt scheme? I have noticed that most of the animal rescue concerns originate from a single post office box address in Merrifield, Virginia. Hey, that’s literally around the corner from me! Should I visit?
My kitchen is full of papers. I am not feeding the hungry here and frankly I don’t know whether any of my payments get anywhere near the starving children. How many has my money fed? How much success is there? I would imagine that very few out of the thousands are eating because of me. But, well, let’s think of the proverbial man on the beach surrounded by stranded starfish. He is throwing them back into the sea so they can survive, one by one. A kid comes up to him and asks what he’s doing. On hearing about his mission, the kid says, But there are millions of them. It won’t matter how many you save. And the man answers as he throws another starfish back, “It mattered to that one.”
I decided to assuage my guilt by giving money to various charities. I was not going to actually volunteer to work there but I figured anything would count, even money.
I picked my favorite concerns: helping starving people around the world, and helping save animals from abuse and misery. I sent my first check in and felt like a generous philanthropist. (I am not revealing how much I gave to anyone.)
Within a week or two I was inundated with a stream of papers. For most of these there is no “do not share name or address.” I found myself buried in the waves of literature and Stuff. I was awash in the outflow of the “charity-industrial complex.”
This is not a complaint, I’m certainly not asking for sympathy. I am just amazed at how much energy and material I received because I participated in charity.
First was the literature, written with high emotion: CRISIS! URGENT! DESPERATE! ABANDONED! ABUSED! The solicitations contained heartbreaking stories of dying animals and people. Dogs beaten and left to die! Horses sent to slaughterhouses for their meat! Innocent little donkeys neglected and brutalized! Orphaned refugee children, Native elders frozen to death…if I read all the literature it blended into one endless scream. How could I not give? These were real, not fictional.
Next, the charities sent me a dizzying variety of tokens, usually with the message of “how could you not give, now that we’ve sent you this calendar?” I received, paid or unpaid for: Calendars, world maps, “petitions,” “vouchers,” “surveys,” “membership” cards (I received eight Audubon Society cards for one membership), refrigerator magnets, pens, little note pads, a calculator, a manicure kit, tote bags, colorful socks and gloves, coins, a very soft grey blanket, childrens’ trinkets, and dozens of other “we gave you this” solicitations. And most of all was the “free gift,” which was always and everywhere…decorative address labels. Like the snowflakes of winter, the petals of spring, the seeds of summer and the golden leaves of fall, myriad repetitions of my hateful name, address labels by the hundreds, by the thousands. If I had kept them all they would fill my entire kitchen. They were decorated with animals, children’s drawings, mountain scenes, crabs, (I received five copies of “Save the Bay”), eagles, patriotic motifs, in an endless stream. I wondered how many it would take to use in a campaign mailing. No, I’m not running for anything, except kitchen philanthropist. Can you imagine how many solicitations a real philanthropist with millions of dollars gets? And the small change coins affixed to the gift form paper, I probably have a few dollars' worth by now. And everything was “personified” with The H-Name I Hate.
Lest you think I have become deluded into giving my money into false or wrong charities, I set limits on all my giving. I toss most of them into the trash. I won’t tell you how I judge which one worthy, but I have been seen stuffing the hatch of my car with paper recycling. Those politicians are not going to respond in sympathy to abused little donkeys, and I’m not answering fake “surveys” which are only propaganda. And as soon as they received my donation, they asked for more - naturally…and they wanted me to give every month, too.
URGENT! DEADLINE ! IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED! CRISIS! CRISIS! YOUR GIFT WILL BE MATCHED BY A DONATION…They’ve taken to having their gifts matched in modest or unreasonable amounts. I have no idea whether that is real or not, or whether any of this is real. Again…have I cast all my money into some corrupt scheme? I have noticed that most of the animal rescue concerns originate from a single post office box address in Merrifield, Virginia. Hey, that’s literally around the corner from me! Should I visit?
My kitchen is full of papers. I am not feeding the hungry here and frankly I don’t know whether any of my payments get anywhere near the starving children. How many has my money fed? How much success is there? I would imagine that very few out of the thousands are eating because of me. But, well, let’s think of the proverbial man on the beach surrounded by stranded starfish. He is throwing them back into the sea so they can survive, one by one. A kid comes up to him and asks what he’s doing. On hearing about his mission, the kid says, But there are millions of them. It won’t matter how many you save. And the man answers as he throws another starfish back, “It mattered to that one.”
Sunday, May 26, 2019
40th Anniversary as a Catholic
After more than a year I am returning to writing here on ELECTRON BLUE. Watch out for words. I will be posting commentary and other writing again here. This piece was transplanted from Facebook and will be available indefinitely.
Why I Stay a Catholic after 40 Years
An anniversary with much hesitation to announce here in public. 40 years ago today, May 24, 1979, I was baptized into the Roman Catholic Church. This was after eight years of struggle as to whether to join or not. I first found this calling in Rome, yes the real Rome, where I encountered the world of aesthetics, visual splendor, and a paradoxical faith for someone from an atheist-Jewish background. I think it was always the art, the color, and the stories, the rituals and the devotions, and the thousands of years of history that attracted and keeps me there. The aesthetic element is not trivial and not mere "trappings," it is the testimony of a church that believes that the divine entered the material world. I am well aware that for most people the Catholic Church is now revealed to be a place of atrocities rather than piety, and so it is, but the paradox is that I stay although I don't go to church at this time. I also stay because I believe that the Incarnate One, Jesus, is a real entity, not just a name. He is someone I could imagine as a real presence. I have always had wonderful friends and supporters in my faith so thank you, Michael and all the others I would rather not name. I hope this church, the creation of inspired people, can somehow regain its goodness on the planet Earth.
Why I Stay a Catholic after 40 Years
An anniversary with much hesitation to announce here in public. 40 years ago today, May 24, 1979, I was baptized into the Roman Catholic Church. This was after eight years of struggle as to whether to join or not. I first found this calling in Rome, yes the real Rome, where I encountered the world of aesthetics, visual splendor, and a paradoxical faith for someone from an atheist-Jewish background. I think it was always the art, the color, and the stories, the rituals and the devotions, and the thousands of years of history that attracted and keeps me there. The aesthetic element is not trivial and not mere "trappings," it is the testimony of a church that believes that the divine entered the material world. I am well aware that for most people the Catholic Church is now revealed to be a place of atrocities rather than piety, and so it is, but the paradox is that I stay although I don't go to church at this time. I also stay because I believe that the Incarnate One, Jesus, is a real entity, not just a name. He is someone I could imagine as a real presence. I have always had wonderful friends and supporters in my faith so thank you, Michael and all the others I would rather not name. I hope this church, the creation of inspired people, can somehow regain its goodness on the planet Earth.
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