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    Boomtoons


     BOOMTOONS:  An Interactive Forum for Women Over 50

                When I was in the sixth grade, a friend with journalistic ambitions decided to enlist the help of his classmates to publish a weekly newspaper. The format was a single signature of sixteen pages, not because we were using an actual printing press, but because our eleven year-old boss was intent on following the rules of the real journalistic world of the time. Our paper was run off, instead, on the mimeograph machine our English teacher arranged for us to use; therefore, although it was printed on white paper, the end product was not black and white, but purple and white, because the mimeograph process produced text and line drawings in that color.

                 Because I could draw, I was "hired" to contribute an editorial cartoon that would depict current events from our perspective. Not just events taking place in our school, or the town in which we lived, but also those occurring in our state, our country and the world as a whole. Each week, we met after school to: review the news, selected one as our topic, and to thrash out what our collective opinion was about it. My task was to take our consensus opinion and convert it to a visual image in a single frame that appeared on our editorial opinion page.

                 This experience, which lasted for roughly three years, was a pivotal influence in my life. It taught me the value of a public forum in which opinion can be freely expressed. It taught me that each of us can make the choice, not only to be informed, but also to participate in our right of free speech. It introduced me to two new pleasures I have enjoyed ever since: reading one or more newspapers on a daily basis, and participating in group discussions with people of initially differing opinions.

                It also firmly planted the idea in my head that there is a natural connection between portraying an idea in writing and in imagery. 

                As Al Gore pointed out in his book, Assault On Reason, we now live in an age in which public dialogue declined precipitously for several decades until the communication of ideas was reduced to a one-way monologue transmitted through television. The Internet is rapidly changing that, creating a new forum for interactive discussion.

                For some time I have been considering what medium, or combination of media, I could use -- not only to exercise my own right of free speech, but also to provide an opportunity for other women to be heard. (This specifically targeted forum for women is badly needed, as the number of mature, well-informed women whose opinion is heard on television is laughably low.)

                One evening, after sending an email about a local women's issue to the editor of the Charleston Post and Courier, I was restless, looking for a way to unwind. It occurred to me that I had not drawn anything in years. I found an old sketch pad, dusted it off, found a pencil, and settled down to see if I could draw, from memory, pictures of the women I had just written about. My drawing skills were rusty from lack of use and I was dismayed by the images I produced... until, critiquing my own work, I realized that what I found offensive about them was their cartoon-like quality. This was obviously a bad thing if my goal was serious portraiture. But what if, instead, I accepted that flaw, developed it and made a feature of it? What if I went back to my middle school experience as a newspaper cartoonist to develop a cartoon in which a cast of female characters could be used to express both their individual and collective opinions?

                Who would those characters be? Hours later I had six additional pages of sketches that loosely depicted the women I count as friends in the various American cities in which I have lived. Idly, I began to annotate the pages with notes about their personal characteristics, their tastes and preferences, their current professions as well as their often surprising backgrounds. When I saw how difficult it would be to correctly guess which notes pertained to which person it occurred to me that I had, not only a cast of characters for my cartoon, but also the raw framework of an interactive puzzle. And where were both cartoons and interactive puzzles to be found these days? In newspapers on the Internet.

                BOOMTOONS and BOOMERS are now copyrighted work in progress. My hope is that one will become a cartoon, or a spin-off interactive game, or both. The other is being developed as an illustrated print column -- similar to the new one in the New York Times -- in which I will provide the artwork for copy written by the actual women I have depicted, some of whom understandably wish to speak for themselves. It is our hope, after a series of conference calls among us, that the column will morph into an illustrated blog in which illustrations will pertain to the generic topic being discussed by any woman, anywhere, who wants to be heard.

                Neither of these ideas would have occurred to me if I had not been given both encouragement and opportunity to express myself early in my life. I owe a debt of thanks to Mike Naylor, wherever he may be, for the entrepreneurial newspaper cartoonist experience he gave me during our last year in elementary school and our two years of middle school. I owe thanks to my professors at Moore College of Art in Philadelphia and the Academy of Art in San Francisco for teaching me how to really draw and to refine my skills in drafting. Most of all, I owe thanks to my paternal grandfather, a cartographer, who thought a perfectly appropriate birthday present for an eight year-old girl was a twine-tied bundle which contained a roll of drafting paper, a T-square, an angle and a drafting pencil. To this bundle of used instruments he attached instructions, which said: 

    "Design your future. Happy Birthday, with love from your Granddaddy."

    Note: I wrote this in 2007. Then, instead of moving ahead with development of either of these ideas, I taught Studio Art for two years at the boarding school that nearly broke me, in heart, mind and spirit. Now, having breathed, I'm taking another look. Never too late? Maybe, maybe not.

    What dreams might you dust off? What future might you design?

    Comments

    Interesting: a group for older women.

    Yet both your listed encouragers were men.

    There's a lesson there.

    Perhaps you can begin to think about fostering humans rather than genders.


    Wendy,

    This is wonderful! Hopefully you will advise us (at least me!) when this is a fait accompli and where these can be purchased!

    Looking forward (with awe) to the finished product!

    Blessings always.


    You are one multi-talented woman, ww staebler!
    I am in awe of you.


    You are my heroine.

    Keep breathing.


    Hush now, little fella. Hush.


    What dreams do each of you have that you might dust off? No time like the present; after all, if you're not currently unemployed, you may well be, sooner or later. ;-) What is your Plan B or C?


    Hmmm, CT:
    Is it possible that men, as well as women, might benefit from, or be inspired by, what women think and have to say? But you have inspired me, for sure -- if we can get this going, I think we'll have to have some male employees and interns, yes? As well as welcoming comments from everyone, be they male, female, or other.


    Please do it, ww. :-)


    Wendy, your plan sounds amazing. Maybe you needed those two years to interpret it and polish it. Sounds like you're ready now, and I wish you well. I'll be one of those waiting patiently to see the results.

    About your avatar: Is it you? Did you draw/paint it?


    Ramona: the avatar portrait is by Alfonso Grosso. I bought it at an auction in New York thirty years ago because: a) the subject is a neck-swiveling double of my aunt, at a similar age; b) it is a fine painting, as a painting; and, c) I thought no woman as intriguing as she should be homeless. Her nickname is "Ms. Manners" as she reminds one to sit up straight and use the right fork.


    This post made my week - a reconfirmation that we can seize the day, and carve out our futures from thin air and the treasure of our inspiration. Great job, ww.


    I'm so glad, Curt, if reading it made your own gray cells stir. Any deferred dreams of your own you'd like to mention?


    Looks like a great project wwstaebler.

    As for your male employment opportunities, I would like to point that I am a pretty good bouncer, especially with the correct fork held in my left hand.

    Full Disclosure: I still have this thing for the smell of mimeograph ink.


    You're hired, Moat! Employee perk -- bottles of mimeograph ink (to sniff, surreptitiously).


    Ever since this post went up I've been thinking about my own dreams and how they have changed over the years. Things that were of importance to me in my younger years seem so trivial now.

    Although I have an overwhelming need to be valued, and to avoid being "ordinary" I can't seem to get a bead on a specific "dream." I'm a bit conflicted, because I love my life, yet there is a vague undercurrent of restlessness floating just below the surface. I suspicion it has to do with the reality of my own mortality that us "older folks" have to face once we recognize that we are well past middle age. I am very conscience of the fact that the years are racing by, gaining speed, and that anything I hope to accomplish needs to be done sooner, rather than later.

    I have no need to "provide for myself." I am very fortunate that has been done for me (although I have not had the satisfaction that accompanies being able to do it.) So I am left with hoping to leave some sort of "legacy," some evidence that I was here. Is raising decent children, and contributing to the development of my grandchildren enough? I don't know the answer to that yet.


    Yikes! Not conscience, conscious! Preview, girl...preview!


    Still:

    You ask: "Is raising decent children, and contributing to the development of my grandchildren enough?"
    Of course it is. How many people do it, effectively and positively?

    But is there a professional itch you had that you have not yet scratched? 

     

     


    One of the benefits of being one of the "smart kids" back in the day, was being able to help the teacher once your work was done (no gifted program back then, so they had to keep us busy!) Running the mimeograph was my fave...do you suppose it was an early form of huffing???


    I was a kid who dissembled books I liked and integrated the pages into my textbooks so I could read them in class. So I didn't get invited to help with production very often.

    The gateway drug angle has occurred to me but why fool around with huffing handouts when you could build model airplanes. I figure my experience led me to an appreciation for a tiny tab of rosewater behind each ear.


    I wish you hadn't asked the question, because I'm afraid that there is, ww. And I mean AFRAID, all caps, bold, large font. I've been stuffing it for months (ever since Blow first suggested a writing group.)

    I want to write.

    I guess being here has shown me that there are at least a few people who want to read what I write, who care about what I have to say. But the fear of actually putting something out there that is beyond an opinion on a blog is absolutely terrifying.

    I don't think I wanted to admit it out loud, because it forces it to the surface, makes it real, and somehow turns it from a vague dream to an obligation to myself; one I'm truly frightened of. I don't know whether to thank you or smack you...


    Speaking of "using the right fork." Am I the only one who is blown away by those stunningly proper and beautiful indented paragraphs? I didn't think it was possible to do on a blog! Is this a first? How did you do it? I just posted a comment at another blog bemoaning the near death of the indented paragraph. I'm swooning just looking at those spaces.

    Dusting off dreams... I'm going to think about that. Thanks for the post, ww.


    Okay, forget I said that. I'm having a panic attack. It's a nice thing to think about, but actually doing it? I don't think so.


    To write, you just need to take a deep breath and start...writing. Really. And, btw, I think you've already done the hard part, writing on a blog in which what you say can unleash immediate response -- whether positive, negative or simply challenging. That takes courage and resilience.
    You've already taken that step and proven your worth. What could be scarier, then, than what you've already done? Fiction? Poetry? Well, maybe, for different reasons. Can you talk about it?


    My fears?


    I infer (from reading comments by and to you on the Hive and on Tom Manoff's blog) that you are an accomplished singer? Therefore, I would be fascinated to know, GftB, what other talents and dreams fell by the wayside? What is your Plan B?
    PS-- re: inset paragraphs. This was a word document I wrote in 2007 before I discovered TPM. So yesterday I cut and pasted it into TPM's format and, voila, the indented paragraphs remained intact. Unfortunately, I still have not mastered inserting an image (drawing, photograph or stylized title block in color) so the indented paragraph will have to suffice, for now, as IT progress made. ;-)


    Anything you want to talk about.


    It's enough if it's enough for you, Stilli. And what greater calling is there than putting your whole heart and soul into raising great children and nurturing grandchildren? They're top priorities for me, too.

    We all strive for different things and sometimes they can overlap. I love being a mom and a nana, but I also love being a writer. I know other women who, at this late stage, think maybe they should have done something else with their lives, but I'm not convinced that, without a perceived outside pressure to do more, they ever would have thought there was something else for them.

    They are who they are and they're good at it. And, most of the time, they're happy with their choice.


    When was the last time you knew me to be afraid to talk? Ha! It's shutting me up that is the problem! :-)

    With blogging, the immediate feedback is what makes it easy. You know almost immediately if what you have to say is getting traction.

    The idea of putting a gazzilion hours into a book, only to find that it has no commercial value, is a whole 'nother thing.


    BTW...you did an admirable job at shifting the focus away form yourself and onto us...what are YOU going to do, girl?!


    More writing I guess: I'm working on a piece about one of my teachers -Jan DeGaetani, who died in 1989. Also the unknown 19th century composer Josephine Lang and maybe something called "Crossing Check Point Charlie." I used to sing at East Berlin's Komische Oper. To get there, I had to cross into East Berlin. Having lived in Germany before and after the unification, I think I have some interesting things to say about this. Getting paid back then in East German marks was always a dilemma. What could I do with them ? Haha!


    There is much wisdom in those words, Ramona, which is why I am so conflicted with the "women's movement."

    At a time when I was perfectly happy with my life as a stay at home mom, I felt pressure to "do more" with my life. Staying home just wasn't considered "enough."

    So I got out there and for 20 years pursued my "then" dream, which turned out to be both a curse and a blessing for my family. Now that I have come full circle, and am a stay at home gaga, I am finding myself questioning, once again, whether it is "enough," only this time it isn't coming from a movement, but from inside. I thought I had learned that lesson, but apparently I have not, otherwise I wouldn't be feeling this restlessness. The questions I'm asking myself are, "is this leftover from before, or is it new?" and "do I NEED this, or just want it?" and if it is just a "want," "will blogging take care of it, or do I actually need to TRY and get published?" Lots of questions, not many answers just yet.


    "I don't think I wanted to admit it out loud, because it forces it to the surface, makes it real, and somehow turns it from a vague dream to an obligation to myself; one I'm truly frightened of. I don't know whether to thank you or smack you..."

    OMG, Stilli, you sound just like me way back when! Listen to this: I was on vacation with my husband and kids and we went into a drugstore where I saw a new and wonderful magazine called "Writer's Digest". I had been writing in a closet for a long time and throwing a lot of pages away, but keeping some that sounded pretty darned good. Anyway, I got away from the rest of them and bought two magazines--the Writer's Digest and another larger one where I could HIDE the Writer's magazine inside! It took years before I could admit even to my husband that I wanted to write. And then it took years of being published locally before I could call myself a writer. Even now it seems phony but I don't know what else to call myself. So you're not alone.

    All it takes to be a writer is to write. You're a writer, and a darned good one. Give yourself permission now and you'll have leaped over a lot of wasted time wondering should I? Can I? Should I? Can I?

    Yes, you can.


    I hear you, loud and clear. I stayed at home when my kids were young and only went to work as a secretary when they were in high school and beyond. When my daughter needed help with our grandson, I chose to stay at home with him rather than have him sent off to day care. Best thing I ever did! I had time at home to develop my writing skills and it didn't cost anything more than the cost of a pad of paper and a pen. I bought a used typewriter eventually and then later, when I made a little money at it, a word processor.

    But the point is, I got to watch my grandson grow up and I got to work on what I loved to do, and neither love interfered with the other. It sounds like you're in a perfect position to do what you realize you love to do. All it will cost is as much time as you want to devote to it. It's an adventure. Do not be afraid!


    I think I'll always think of you henceforth as our very own Miss Manners. ;)


    You are contributing to my delinquency! Go get in line behind ww for when I decide whether to thank or smack! (But thanks for the kind words, anyway!) If nothing else this exercise was a nice ego stroke...I'm already composing my acknowledgment page. How's that for putting the cart ahead of the horse!? At least you have me laughing instead of peeing my pants!


    You are correct ww, it is never too late. I remember reading a story about a grandmother who had gotten numerous degrees and was celebrating her doctorate, in her eighties. What a fulfilling life to be proud of! This from a woman who experienced many obstacles in life not only from being a woman but from being African American as well. I'll see if I can find her story, but it is very inspirational. The teacher I noted in one of my blogs achieved her doctorate after 50 and she always told me it is never too late, even if you take one class at a time, follow your dreams.

    I fully believe in finding your passion in life and fully realizing your purpose in life. It is the most fulfilling thing you can do for yourself and I think in a society where we are taught to just find a career and trudge it out day after day, life isn't truly experienced or enjoyed. Although it can be cliche, reach for the stars and you will get there. Reclaim your happiness, reclaim your life and enjoyment, until you are no longer breathing, it is never too late.


    I think I have to pick one and zero in on it, ww, as you did. The magical component of your account was how you pieced out this project one component at a time. It's the very definition of 'inpspiration'.


    I heard a different take on the saying that I like even more...Aim for the moon, even if you miss you'll land in the stars.


    You can do both, you know. Laugh and pee your pants. Don't ask me how I know.


    I don't need to ask! I know!


    I hope I'm going to be a paid contributor to another blog soon -- a writing job that I would be grateful to get and thrilled to do, not least because I really respect the people for whom I would be working.

    However, as all freelancers know, "no man (or woman) can live by bread alone." Which in a freelance context means that no one can survive, comfortably, with only one client or project at a time.

    So I've been thinking about what I might do to supplement that projected income that would present no conflict of interest with the primary client. And the answer may well be to focus on art-related work, whether an endeavor of my own or a project for whomever.

    A combination of both writing and art projects would suit me perfectly anyway; I've always hated the pressure to choose between them. (Why are we Americans so dedicated to the notion of specializing?)

    So. A cartoon, or drawings to accompany the writing of others on a women's blog, may well be timely pursuits. Or I could paint portraits, although that is a dying art. There's still a market for painting portraits of people's pets, though.)

    Thinking further ahead, I've also been talking to the Director of the Center for Women in Charleston about collaboratively developing one or more topic-specific seminars that I might present there next year, if I can gain permission to present them elsewhere, thereafter.

    I'm working, slowly, on a non-fiction, coffee table book, aimed cynically and specifically at the ego-driven deep pockets of Wall Street fat cats. And I'm finally going to screw up my courage, after redrafting and editing it, to submit a novel I've written (which has effectively been gathering dust since 2006) to a particular publisher who specializes in a particular genre in which, if I am careful, it would fit like a glove.

    As you pointed out, Still, time is passing far too swiftly. What do I have to lose, except false pride, at this point?

    Curiously, any one of these endeavors may represent greater odds of success than some of the other things I have actually considered doing, in desperation, as my financial situation worsened. But I know I am ill-suited to these jobs, however temporary, and the irony is that the temporary factor might be the employer's decision rather than my own. Office temping? I tried that, but the lawyer I worked for was unamused that in typing his letters I corrected his grammar and punctuation. Substitute teaching? On one's feet all day, attempting to maintain order rather than contributing anything useful, all for @$50 a day, once in a while. Retail? Ha. On one's feet all day for minimum wage, before taxes, working on rotating shifts that include evening and weekend hours. (Sure, I know how to use a scanner and I could, if pressed, run a cash register. But could I bear the long hours and endless ennui or, more to the point, could I properly balance a cash drawer at the end of a long shift?) And, finally, there is no question that I would make a dreadful greeter at Wall-Mart; rather than smiling and greeting, I would be constantly tempted to urge patrons to leave immediately to shop elsewhere, ready at a moment's notice to expound on WalMart's hiring, firing and health care practices.

    If the Peter Principle is "rising to one's level of incompetence," the inverse can also true; it is quite possible to take a lesser-skilled job and fail at it, thereby regressing to one's level of incompetence.

    True story: a retired music professor I know took a Christmas job at a local department store. The phone rang. She picked up the bar code scanner and lasered her own ear, puzzled by why the phone was still ringing.

    I rest my case.


    Curt: I hate to disillusion you, but I was only able to identify the components of the cartoon project because it is so simple, fundamentally; there just aren't many pieces or stages required. Other, more complex (read normal) projects that I've begun to think about swirl around my brain in virtual freefall; there are apparently no hooks left within to catch and hold coherent thought.
    Can you give a idea of your idea? Or would that be a breach of necessary confidentiality?


    Well, I like the idea that you have more than one iron in the fire, and are actively exploring opportunities. I hated the idea of you curling up and giving up. I should have known you wouldn't do that!

    The only good thing about accepting a minimum wage job (or 2 or 3) is that it gets you out of the house and provides grocery money. If you have got some kind of money coming in, and are not allowing yourself to succumb to depression, it probably isn't necessary.

    As I said, my choices are made easier in that I don't have to provide for myself. I am so in awe of those of you who can and do.


    You're right, Packerfanchick: Grandma Moses did not begin painting until she was 80. Of course, given our current health care dilemma, many of us can't wait that long.
    What about your dreams? What would you do if money were no object and you were simply doing what seems your "highest and best use"?


    Hey I do like that more. Thanks for sharing.


    Hey, Mh2O: what dreams are you dreaming by the bay?


    I am actually in the process of realizing that dream right now. I am in nursing school working towards becoming a nurse practitioner specializing in HIV disease. I hope to either work for or open a low-income/free clinic to work with poorer people. I will have a meditation room and hold yoga and meditation sessions a few times a week, working on the mind, body, and spirit of those patients. Money isn't a big deal to me anyway, my fiance is an Economist so I leave the budgeting stuff up to him. I grew up poor and my heart is with poor people. I just want enough to live decently comfortable, put my kids through college, and retire on a farm someday. I realized my dream, my purpose and decided to go for it. I've never felt happier and I'm lucky enough to have found that purpose at 26. I've been on a deep spiritual journey lately that has led me away from the confines of the religion I grew up in and into more of an eclectic understanding of life and the Universe. I've been set free and feel the joy my soul has been waiting to share and the love my heart has been longing to embrace as many people with I possibly can.


    Packerfanchick:
    You may be 26, but you are WISE well beyond your years. I need to attend your seminar.


    Thanks! I'll let you know when I have them ;^)


    Still: see misplaced reply below.


    I'm not telling. At least not right now. Ideas and dreams alike are so fragile when they're being born. Nice blog.


    Still:
    I took a day to think about the difference between intent and inference before replying to your "look on the bright side" remark about taking 2-3 minimum wage jobs if that's what it takes.

    I do know that your intention was to encourage me, supportively, to do whatever is necessary to make ends meet. And I appreciate that, not only in the sense of understanding your positive motivation, but also being grateful for the moral support.

    Nonetheless, you (and you are far from alone in this) manifest a blind spot when you say to someone my age: "...The good thing about accepting a minimum wage job (or 2 or 3) is that it gets you out of the house and provides grocery money ...."

    Stilli: Getting out of the house and having money to buy groceries isn't worth much if I drop dead of a heart attack. And that is a real possibility when almost all minimum wage jobs are physically demanding, requiring at least being on one's feet for 8-9 hour stretches at a time. Add in a second job like that? And then a third? Get the tag ready for my toe and blow on the ink to make sure it dries quickly.
    I am not unwilling to work. But if I am to work steadily, into the foreseeable future, I have to be realistic about what I can do, and what I cannot do, literally. Because I wasn't kidding about nearly being broken by the job I had for the past two years -- which required 16 hour days, on my feet, up and down endless sets of spiral stairs, back and forth from building to building... I should have been in great shape, right? Ha. Not when the schedule was day and night, day after day, week after week (sometimes with full weekend duty thrown in) with NO time to REST. It was a killing schedule, for anyone. Witness the fact that a new teacher, a twenty-two year old who had been the star of her college tennis team, started passing out, in class and elsewhere, by December of her first year on this schedule. That I was able to sustain it for two years at age 59-60 (but almost from the beginning, only on adrenaline and a fierce determination not to "fail") cost me far more than it was worth. For starters it compromised my immune system; it also completely disrupted my ability to sleep and, in consequence, it messed with my degree of sanity in ways I did not even see until later.
    I am only beginning to feel like myself again. So it would be suicide, in the literal sense, for me to take 1, 2 or 3 minimum wage jobs right now if any one of them required real physical stamina. (Btw, this is hard for me, psychologically, as I've always been unusually energetic and active.)
    So I am on the horns of a real dilemma, between a rock and a hard place I share in common with many, many people my age who are unemployed, without the resources they expected to have after a full adult life of working. We're smart enough to work. We have a lot of experience that has value. God knows we're motivated to keep working. But we're also realistic about what we can do.
    Short version: unemployment is an equal opportunity condition, regardless of age. But not everyone of every age can tote that barge and lift that bale. Therefore, stop-gap, minimum wage jobs need to come in more than one flavor.


    I'm glad you gave me the benefit of the doubt, because I deserve it. My intentions were pure.

    I am so glad that it looks like you may be able to cobble together an income that will not force you to accept a part time job. I do not have ANY blind spots as far as what part time employment might entail, in terms of physical difficulty. But there ARE jobs out there that allow you to sit (toll booth operators, receptionist, data entry, etc.) Are they readily available? Probably not in this economy.

    My point was merely to get you out of the house instead of becoming a depressed recluse, and perhaps adding a little regular, albeit small amount, of money into your life.

    What you and many others are experiencing is not right ww. It is demeaning to be at the mercy of the cold cruel world, especially at your age, and given that many of your misfortunes were not self induced. I can only imagine how frightening it must be.

    Please do not EVER feel like I am judging you, or making light of your circumstances, or having a "get over it" attitude.

    You are not in this boat, because you do have marketable skills that may allow you to freelance, but there are many who have no choice other than to either end up on the street, or work themselves literally to death to avoid it.


    This illustrates why it would be so hard for me to ever return to the republican party. It is just wrong for people to suffer like this, quietly, unnoticed, hoping against hope that someone, anyone who can help, will. The idea that a safety net for all has to be debated, and not just a given, is disgusting. The ever increasing gap between the haves and have-nots is equally disgusting, as is the almost intentional erosion of the middle class.

    I always thought that America was the place where hard work was rewarded. Just work hard and you'll be fine.

    What a rude awakening to find it is not true. And how sad that so many people, in an attempt to keep from letting the "undeserving" get something they haven't "earned," are willing to let those who have earned and contributed, and now, through no fault of their own cannot, fall through the cracks.

    In that our justice system says we must let guilty men go free so that not one innocent one is convicted (not that it is working so well) you would thing it would be better to feed lazy men so that not one hard worker would starve.

    I wish I had a solution. The very thought of people enduring what you did, and what ww is, pains me greatly.


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