December 2016

Epilogue

Surely there are just as many miserable people at the top of a society's social ladder as there are at the bottom, and surely you can find happy people in all walks of human life. For, the well-being of the individual depends on much more than his material possessions. In the end, each of us occupies a unique social perspective that no one else shares, and it is up to each of us to make the most of his own perspective.

executive summary

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Epilogue

Surely there are just as many miserable people at the top of a society's social ladder as there are at the bottom, and surely you can find happy people in all walks of human life. For, the well-being of the individual depends on much more than his material possessions. In the end, each of us occupies a unique social perspective that no one else shares, and it is up to each of us to make the most of his own perspective.

executive summary

I left my apartment on Sunday, September 11, in commemoration of America’s persistent failure to discover and prosecute those who perpetrated the destruction of the World Trade Center — including the controlled demolition of Buildings No. 1, 2, and 7. Within three days I found new lodging at the Bread of Life Mission where I have not missed a night’s worth of residence since my arrival. What prevented me from going to Tiger Mountain and exercising my freedom of last resort was the refusal of my friends to recognize my defeat, financial support from the Christian church and my former Saudi students, a reluctantly accepted cut of modern liberal graft, and the fortuitous discovery of a reasonable, but awkward strategy for recovery. My failure to raise true charity among the American public and the remaining members of my own family was painful salt on a very sore and open wound.

On December 13, my 67th birthday, I celebrated my third full month of residence at the Bread of Life Mission, paid for another six days of rent, and took my letter (see side-bar) composed on December 11 to the Solanus Casey Center on First Hill for eventual delivery to the Mission’s director on 1st Avenue and Main Street. The letter was written in my shared office space at Hing Hay Coworks in Seattle's International District where I continue the work that was so brutally interrupted by American age discrimination, a bloated credentials industry, government financial regulation, unscrupulous, private-sector, online developers, and last, but not least, the King County Superior Court of the State of Washington.

Well yeah, I am just as good at blaming others for my own shortcomings as are America's war mongers. Then too, there is nothing wrong with pointing the finger of blame when those accused are clearly in the wrong and well deserving of it. Still, I must confess that I have yet to determine whether Judge Judson was constrained by the law in his determination or simply acting out of convenience. In any case, it is far worse to blame others for one's own failure to act or act correctly.

As the Coworks are a subsidized municipal organization funded by the City of Seattle, the USD 350 that I receive each month from the State of Washington in the form of an SSI entitlement, and that I pay into Hing Hay for my full-in membership at the CoWorks, represent little more than a private transfer from one public account to another. My reward for facilitating this transfer is "free office space" at the CoWorks. Although, the general public is made no richer or poorer, I have likely made many a State tax payer unhappy, for there are not a few King County property owners who would like to see the City of Seattle slide into the sea.

Unfortunately, by the end of the second week of every month, after I have paid down my overdrawn credit card account with Bank of America, the remaining balance on my Capital One credit card, the monthly fees on my two storage lockers, my smart phone user's fee with AT&T, and my discounted (I am both a senior citizen and an officially documented homeless person) monthly, gym fee at the YMCA, there is not enough left of my meagre USD 409 social security income to pay for my last week’s worth of rent at the Mission.

The USD 103 that I receive in the form of food stamps on my EBT card pays for about two weeks worth of "free lunches" including four pieces of salmon sushi, a small dish of kimchi, and a small bowl of organic, white corn, tortila chips. The powdered Itoen green tea that follows is complementary with my membership at the CoWorks. The wasabi, soy sauce, and ginger come with the four pieces of sushi purchased earlier in the day. By letting the sushi warm to room temperature it is far more tasteful. It is my most important daily source of protein. Alas, I have become the state-sponsored petty thief that my unAmerican "compatriots" so dearly wanted me to become when they ignored my appeal for true charity.

The real winners in my fall from grace are, of course, the Seattle Christian community, for without them I would not have a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head, and two meals in my stomach every day. Even the two showers that I receive every afternoon (voluntary at the gym) and evening (coerced at the Mission) are subsidized by local Christian contributions.

Still, I remain steadfast in my belief that God is a human creation and not vice versa, and exercise sometimes excruciating religious tolerance in my silence during the lengthy sermons before many an evening meal. Even in the dorm room after dinner I do not discuss my metaphysical beliefs with my dorm mates as there are several who would surely take offense out of fear that the devil is in their midst. In any case, at the Mission the charity that we receive is voluntarily given and thus, all things considered, heartily received. Still, it is hardly enough, as building a company takes time and money, and I am simply not yet there.

Alas, the American establishment -- including those whom I supported in their call for assistance, but who failed to respond in kind when it was I who was in need -- has failed to defeat me. I remain steadfast in my political and metaphysical foundation. Indeed, whereas my political protest was largely ignored during my strike, it is now audibly heard among those in the Mission who have themselves -- either directly or indirectly -- felt the heavy hand of our nation's bloated spoils and corrupt monetary and financial system.

Hopefully a much more detailed version of my current situation and those with whom I share it will still be possible in my annual report at www.hashimori.com by the year’s end. As I am very concerned about my ability to complete the report and still make ends meet, I encourage you to read the two poems (right panel) that I wrote shortly after my departure from Paul Revere Apartments on Seattle's First Hill on September 11th.

Simply copy, paste, and share this link (epilogue) far and wide. It is your second chance to help repair the damage that you did nothing to prevent and to help a true patriot help you to "Make America Great Again".