2016 Jason ScarabinIconoclasm over acquiescence is a lonely road. Dare to be different and a heavy social, and eventually economic, price is paid. That dare to self is never the foundation on which one begins or rests this sad and lonely journey but it could be the initiator. An iconoclast cannot simply use the need to be different as a driving force or his arguments will not sustain themselves.

The journey frequently begins by reading or getting exposed to another iconoclast. The well-established iconoclast is strong, so the inspiration in kind thereby has a strong effect. This near-hero worship blinds the new recruit into delusions of grandeur.

I embraced the philosophy of Ayn Rand. Her dogmatic approach to government struck a chord within me. The underlying theme was rejection of force which led to my second, and more of a nail in the coffin, iconoclastic hero: Christopher Hitchens, who lambasted religion night and day, an anti-theist.

Despite embracing Rand’s philosophy, I was so detached from politics that I didn’t have a name for my philosophy as it pertained to government until a dear friend labeled it for me: libertarian.

In short, libertarian philosophy rejects the force of government in personal and economic lives. One could argue that many of the authors of the United States new government in the late 18th century embraced this philosophy, particularly Thomas Jefferson. Outright rejection of laws restricting personal and economic behavior sits at the foundation.

Because of human tendencies and weakness, vast majorities will outwardly condemn this philosophy. It has the implication of encouraging lawlessness throughout the land but more devastating is that it implies having no compassion for the helpless, both of which are not true for anyone not a control freak.

In short, anti-theism philosophy rejects the influence of the supernatural in all its forms and actively fights religion. One could argue that at least some of the authors of the United States new government too embraced this philosophy, particularly Thomas Paine. Outright rejection of celestial, invisible dictatorship from on high sits at the foundation.

Because of human tendencies and weakness, vast majorities will condemn this philosophy not only in public but privately too. Fear of death and the unknown, hope for eternal life, and an overall need to live in servitude coupled with firmly-held traditions drive theism.

When a person expresses views completely opposite of another, there is not only friction but separation in all its definitions. The defense mechanism is to avoid negativity, shame and anything that would put a target on one’s back. Most are consumed with enough stress in their own lives that the status quo alleviates the spread of more stress and anxiety. We are driven to comfort and pleasure, not discomfort and pain.

An embrace of philosophy that rejects force in all forms will not only reveal really deep, natural human behavior in oneself but in others. Friendship circles will vanish. Your same need to disassociate with negativity will also be executed by those around you and you’ll find yourself alone on an island. In essence, you’ve traded toxicity for inconsolable grief – and so have they.

Both parties have placed the other into a container in which neither one belongs. Neither party has the will to reconcile the differences.  Those schisms have been hashed out too many times – if one is lucky enough to get to hashing. The debates require staggering amounts of strength that too often has lay dormant near atrophy.

To overcome this devastation on relationships, both sides making some concessions may be necessary. Find common ground to teach and learn the other side.

TRICTION: Mentally Disordered

To express my excitement for my upcoming first actual novel is thrilling!  I hope you’ll enjoy it.  It’s going to be available sometime after April 19, 2017 from all e-book retailers.  Print copies will be available sometime in May 2017.

Dylan Pritchard traverses his unstable mind through years of travel to and from a waterfall.  He’s taken away by a group of strange, but interesting and highly successful people to a remote desert location.  After only a day at Monterey Station, he’s abruptly yanked and brought back to face his own reality.  This reality is the discovery of what the waterfall meant to him then and now.

To Toast a Town

Years ago, I strolled the streets of Sun Valley, Idaho.  I felt protected.  I thought the future was sealed.  You cannot go to this city without an overwhelming romantic wave crash against you – comparable to walking on a beach but avoiding the sand.  Not going to happen.

Now, that I’m married with two children, I want to take my family there.  I want that electricity mandated by the city’s environment to ignite my future’s purpose again.  I remember little else from that visit long ago.  Only the romance.

A toast to you, Sun Valley, ID!


Time to run, time to lose
Time to eat, time to snooze
Time to be nice, not mean
Time to be lean, not green

Have you had a remarkable day?
Have you lost yourself in play?
Growing riches within your mind?
Blowing britches in kind?

I like to run and it feels good
But not until I’m skinny and wood
Getting there with light and focus
After all, no one really knows us

Bread gone, spinach here in tow
Lemons and Mushrooms, some cilantro
Ice and cranberry juice, onions and olive oil
Monterey Jack packs, salmon in foil


I refuse to register my arms.  They’ve become fatter and I don’t want that tracked… Not to mention, moderate carpal tunnel in one wrist.  Next thing you know, I’d be getting spam wanting me to buy arm products.  It’s already started with the Nair and Deodorant commercials.  Moreover, I’m not registering the two (Grizzly) arms in my freezer; They’re stamped with FDA already, isnt’ that enough?  Even if they weren’t, it’s not like I have Mountain Lion arms in my freezer.  I understand what the founders meant when they said Bear arms.

Job Hunt


Making copies of your life into a paper fill
Green little monsters rapidly moving in
Typing and fretting, it’s exhausting to find
Pressured by well-wishers and wallet alike

Damn this, I’m going home, I’m going to roam
Sitting and surfing, praying and calling home
Lying in the sun for fun, I run
Hands across the counter beat the drum

I’m on the hunt, but not really, I’m waiting
I’m flaking and shaking, but not really, I’m skating
I’m on the hunt but for what, a snot, a rope?
I’m hunting without a gun, maybe a stick, nope!

Maybe some relief is on the way, I get a call
Mr. Regal, Mrs. Callus, when should I fall
Today is the day; I get the notice, the rice
I knock on the door dressed in my ice

–Jason L. Scarabin




In a world where pleasure is criminalized
In a world where pain is glorified
I died, I cried but I didn’t lie on the side
Take me for a ride on your kite

The elite fleet stares at your feet
The cheat meets you on the beat
The eel reels on his heels before his meal
It steals as it feels orange peels

Today it pays to lay and to lay you must pay
Our fate with Kate is too late
Brace the ace in the face of lace, set a pace
Take a break before you ache from steak

Oil boils your curls in foil
Curse the verse of the nurse
Hurt Bert and be curt when you flirt
Stop the cop and flop on his top

Pressure and leisure feathers the weather
Neither the ether nor breather keeps Heather
Come for fun with your bun in the sun
readily and steadily knead your beads

-Jason L. Scarabin