Deep Into Artlife West

decisions, and decisions, and decisions, creeps in this petty pace ...

2012-01-29T19:36:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5

If sticking with blogger translates to censorship, a further dumbing-down of the greater dumbdown which incidentally is a major whiplash into absolute slavedom, then the idea of packing up and moving one's blog somewhere else is unnerving to say the least. Who is to say which is worse, staying or leaving? Of course, moving elsewhere can be done, supposedly easily if you buy the hype, but the downside is finding yourself spending infinitely MORE time online than you already do, without the interaction, the discoveries, the visuals and the building on each others spiritual foundations. Moving the blog technically is demanding enough for non-geeks, but the rearrangement of visuals is an unnecessary chore because we've already done it and can't imagine anything more potentially irritating than revising a finished work without the tools we trained ourselves to use developed over many years and through many "supposedly" more efficient ways of doing what we do here. There is a lot more to it than we are being led to believe, deleting the photos Picasa has accumulated in disregard to the fact we have already have offline photo storage and of course, the very big issue of starting all over again with a different email service. I've tried a number of them over the years and found g-mail a lot faster to use, although you don't have any of the graphics choices other email systems provide. And then there is the search feature, too, etc.

I've had a hunch from the beginning of this blog D day was coming because once you sign on to the blogger experience, you are encouraged to open a lot of strange doors, all of them leading back inside the grand spider web. If you don't want to be eaten alive, you'll need to find the exit. If you are uncomfortable with google's widely posted changes to come, don't let it turn into the procrastinator's indecisive wait and see.

If we leave things as they are, after March 1st or 12th, I'm not exactly sure of the date, it appears we automatically turn into a Facebooky social networking situation, an all-inclusive, systematically tracked and profiled, total void of privacy; whatever is said in blogs, comments and emails will be scrutinized for the stated purpose of personalized advertisements popping up apparently whenever we connect to the web. And where we go, we are advised, will be linked with where we've been, where we go next and how they classify the individual user, all wrapped in one tidy package to improve our overall individual internet experience. Really! Then count on whomever else comes into the mix up the road apiece, someone with the innovative moxie of the moment, as pretty much a guarantee to take it even further and deeper into previously unknown dimensions of connectivity and hog snorting glee as the anticipated profits rain down. You will have to decide for yourself what those dimensions of the future could mean and how they could affect you. It may suddenly take on new weight in your thoughts concerning your participation in the program.

I am of two minds on this. One mind, not my better, higher mind, says "So what, I'm okay with things as they are." The other mind sees this situation as dangerous, dangerous because anything anyone says is open to interpretation by technology, how reliable is that? There certainly is no logical reason to be lackadaisical since whatever is going on today is already racing to change itself towards superseding unlimited growth, imagine that, infinite mutations of pituitary gigantism also known as Launois syndrome; downgrades and bankruptcy likely being the feared classic consequences they probably envision lie ahead without immediately monetizing every cluster of binary numbers. Do note this change comes directly on the heels of Facebook's IPO filing. If this gives you the chills, try to remember we're talking about personhoods here, not flesh and blood.

Try telling them it isn't necessary, stop fiddling with what isn't broken. Ah, but you know you cannot argue with machines armed with computer generated stats promising profit for economic innovation. Have you ever tried to contact blogger for tech support? Where are the people, the human beings wearing ear pieces and mouth mics, to fix your foibles? We shouldn't wonder what happened to the human personality that used to be so gracious. Once autobots replaced the human being your query into tech support in ANY situation no longer encouraged or required courtesy. Once you figured out you could pay your bills by cellphone, online or just by authorizing creditors to trawl your bank account, you didn't have to write legibly either. Mostly we learned to check boxes and copy/paste the rest. How encouraging are conversations with other voices where you respond with only "yes" or "no" and hang up on them? Every one of us is at least guilty of that. That is what they want. These antisocial actions only create more of the same antisocial behaviors. If we are willing to cooperate this much, how much more will we cooperate with before signing out for the last time? Are we even close? Remotely close? Some will be more than happy to go away and do something else, something real, something that does not lead to ennui. Believe it or not, there is still a beautiful world out there, we will never find it the longer we stay glued to this unnatural relationship.

By the time it takes to deliver munitions over Iran, internet use will stampede, that is if it has not already reached everyone its going to reach. We all have our own personalized arguments against this medium of communications, small or large, and it is strange to see ourselves continuing to take the beating all the while knowing we pay a heavy price to play. I feel like the last person on the planet sometimes, hanging on to dial-up. Every time I investigate the range of high speed options, I walk away disgusted, they think we use our laptops to watch TV! Yes, that is always the first thing asked by DSL sales reps, "How much television viewing do you do online?" When I say "None", there is a blank pause as if some alien broke into the connection. And fer cryin' out loud, who in their right mind would want to pay more for something we already have and really, really don't want or need more? If you read this blog's previous posts you might have come across a brilliant comment from someone who has been through it all and was at a complete loss to say what he's gained personally over the past decade from his internet experience. I agree. How about ah, less than nothing? Nothing we didn't already know or would have discerned anyway or found at the local library if we were so moved. Somehow, out of all these years of living we share, we have arrived here today intact, did we really need keyboards and autobots to ease us inside the corral? Isn't this easing simply another avenue of humiliation and diminishment on the way to the ultimate goal? That the citizen animal is of no more worth to this planet than a useless eater taking up space that could be mangled into profitability with a little shift in perception accomplished though the multitaskers' attention deficit hyperactivity disorder information storm pulsating with blazing personalized come-ons? See cryptogon's take.

My decision is made, seriously, is there any decision? I'm merely looking for some unlikely argument for the other side in case I missed something. I've been through this before with an earlier blog hosted on our former ISP and it turned out badly making blogger seem such a good find. I was shut out of my original blog because the visitor limit was exceeded, which was, ahem, a shock. Just a few minutes ago I tried to access that blog and the message reads forbidden access on their server which says only their ISP customers are allowed to visit, provided those visitors remain under whatever viewing limit is being imposed. Its no great loss, but typical of the surprises you come across in these strange days. If we go by recent history, it can only become more of what it already is.

In closing, I have to say, it does appear another long term relationship is in the throes of crashing. It did not have to be this way fellas.

Suspicious Minds

2012-01-23T12:56:00.000-08:00

Let's talk about chemtrails. What do we really know about them? To date, they remain an unmentionable item on the political/media/electoral agenda. What are they and how many trillions are spent on their production? We've read they are made up of barium and aluminum, barium makes us glow and eating foods cooked in aluminum pans gives us Alzheimer's. Wouldn't that make chemtrail victim populations incredibly easy to find in the dark or locate on some interested somebody's scanner anytime as confused and disoriented wanderers?

That would be one way to view chemtrails. There are other ways and none of them speak well for the massive effort expended.

I've been seeing this sky weirdness in so many far apart geographies for so many years, I've come to some conclusions. Wait, let me express that more accurately to fit in with the exponentially negative aura of these times. While I know nothing, I-harbor-suspicions. Surely that makes me one in five US citizens suffering from untreated mental illness as calculated by a 2010 government survey. Regardless, my suspicions are not without cause. Some of the more popular American newspapers used to inadvertently show huge color photos of chemtrails crisscrossing in the background while photographically profiling some up and coming European literary or film figure, the usual full page filler for their glossy Sunday magazines. They seem to be covering their errors now, maybe there were queries and you know, queries about chemtrails are never answered or not even responded to with anything resembling a humble admission of ignorance or guilt by association via inside information. But I saw it, and what I saw was confirmation chemtrails are littering the skies of the whole of the western world. I have not been to the Middle East recently, so I can't say if they have chemtrails there, but if you have seen it up close or seen any unaltered photos of their skies showing chemtrails, I'd like to hear about it.

We are going into the third decade of chemtrail awareness and in all those years I have never had a satisfactory response from any professional corner, (such as pilots, who should or would know, unless they have no idea what they are doing and it was intentionally left out of the training video games) other than patronizing assurance the phenomena is just contrails. Ah, right, okay. One fine afternoon while under seige, we went out to the highest peak in greater socal for sincere study and met some authentic pilots also watching who blew us off as lefty hippies for our concerns as the sky grew white with ball-fringed stripes and rainbow oilys shining through the scribble scrabble of duelling joysticks imitating NASCAR favorites vying for top gun. You can see when its quittin' time by the quit-trail, zigging, zagging, looping and jerking in Mad Mouse roller coaster twists on their way back to the base for a Bud.

Here is what is most obvious, aka, the prime suspect: The weather around here is generally lovely, so that whenever our graduated Cerulean Blue skies are deflowered, I've come to anticipate foul weather within 24 hours, more or less. Some things really are learned through the simple observations of simple people, for example, people who have spent a lifetime sailing the open waters where sensitivity to the elements takes precedence over the charted course, in this case the habitual siege on the heavens rather accurately portends high winds, heavy rains, overcast skies, often hail and snow and not always at the time of year you would expect.

This might mean we have not had real weather, natural weather, classically seasonal weather for a long time, say the amount of time Big Ag has slurped a lot more water than is available to grow their pesticide generating, bee killing crops. Lately, with the predictability of sprayings followed by weather disturbances, I'm trying to recall how long ago we might have seen natural weather at all. Maybe, if the thirsty personhoods pay full price and power is appropriately convinced of need, pilots are enlisted to work through the night since there are often nights the Milky Way is obscured with crazy zigzags - in which case, first light carries obliterating see nothing - know nothing fogs followed by news coverage of 40 vehicle pileups on major interstates because commuters refuse to take the hint in the mindless rush to beat the clock.

Weather prediction sites appear to be in on the situation as if they receive transmissions stating what to tell their visitors. They are not always correct, in fact, most are off the mark by many hours sometimes missing events completely.   This could be because rigged weather is in BETA, still developing, not refined enough yet to smack the mark on target, except for rain. Rain never misses, they may miss the hour it will start, but it always shows up somewhere on the designated day.

I don't like looking at chemtrails, I've always had a bad feeling about them, the reason being the high potential we are witnessing the ongoing anthropogenic battle for control of Nature. It bothers me to see something so obvious be ignored and denied. They illustrate perfectly for all to see, the vast void of respect westernized humanity bears toward the natural world preferring to throw its full support into a broken system. And chemtrails are ugly, far too Jackson Pollack binging on jet fuel for my taste.

We knew they wanted to control the weather and made some promise they would own it by 2012. Since then we've seen or experienced first hand incredible so-called natural disasters wiping out huge populations in nearly every country on the global map. Some people think HAARP is responsible, it may be or may not be, how would we know and how would we prove it? And if it was proven that weather IS controlled, owning not only egregious weapons of unnatural natural disaster, resulting in horrific floods, mudslides, epidemics and famine, why not go for the whole package including tornados, rain, hail, snow and freak fogs?   And why not eliminate unprofitable, uncooperative regions by erasing them with killer drought where wildland fires gobble everything in their path followed by loss of livelyhoods putting more and fatter rolls of bills in the bottomless pockets of Big Ag and industries rebuilding shattered infrastructure? This can only worsen as the planet caves in under the weight and twists of overpopulation. "Life begins at fertilization ..." A statement that somehow never applies to any species other than human.

Further, considering that we now have two Ozone holes, over the Artic and the Antarctic poles, there exists the unpleasant possibility the only natural weather humans will ever again see exists on other planets. The desire to possess the weather at all is illogical, so absurd there is no category in the system's verbose Diagnostic Manual to cover it, thus it walks free to smear its carnage upon defenseless twinkie addicts who refuse to pay attention and don't really care if there is anything else happening anywhere around them unless they are busted for one or more inane legal infractions and have to come up with bail. If they know anything, they know twinkies are not available on Big Ag's chain gangs.

Some of these disasters are not specifically weather-related such as oil spills although the aftermath is the same, Iraq and Katrina are but two examples. Whatever the target, whatever the weapon, the results tell you everything you'd want to know, if you want to know, just so there is no confusion about the stunningly advanced state of the State.

There is another part of this that is particularly tragic in addition to all the tragedy owning the weather manufactures and that is of the grocery clerks and errand boys carrying out their orders. PSTD anyone? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW YOU WOULD FEEL in your effort to please the boss knowing all the while you flew around for years with Evil as your co-pilot?

Well, what do I know anyway, I'm just another little person slave like so many others, trying to make sense of it, plodding along under darkening clouds.   This set of theories presented does not mean climate change does or does not command star billing in the ubiquity of the chemtrail which leaves our door wide open for additional thoughts on the matter and should you have something to share, do feel free. A few weeks ago I mentioned in a comment that if what is happening to the sky's palette was good, beneficial to humanity or healthy and logical and worthwhile, we would have heard about it long ago. The PR would be read, heard, tweeted, televised, trumpeted from sea to shining sea. But instead we are not to know, at least not now.

Why - is - that?

Perhaps drastic climate change has been well underway long enough for chemtrails to be the final solution to salvaging impossibly unlimited growth? Note the continuing mania over the markets' rise and fall, the lack of interest in trains, the never ending wars creating new extremes in empire expansion, the general lack of interest in geologic proof the glaciers are melting, the shorelines receding, etc.

On the other hand, and exactly as that grade school science film mentioned in our last post exemplifies,

... cells move around in the bloodstream. They bunch up, some break away from the group and keep moving, some few are stuck together for the duration of the flow. ...

Everything is always in a state of change, living or dead, which is cool, it is right and it is real, a state to be survived with durability, creativity and imagination, not resisted, denied, feared, manipulated and made false in a pretense of invisibility.

*****

Missing Etta James. See you again stomping gospel R&B one of these days in Heavenly Heaven. Bon Voyage and party up. May all that love you lacked in childhood surround you for the next 30,000 years in the Human Realm.

Not missing Jo-pa whose dye job at age eighty-four shows us vanity took precedence over his unique position to make right predatorial wrong.

never ending appetites for self-destruction

2012-01-13T08:34:00.000-08:00

Was there ever a more perfect metaphor for the crumbling state of the Union than the coming demise of the twinkie? You have to wonder how many lives have been destroyed by the weaponry of unconquerable addictions, how many grossly overweight waddlers ballooned to their present heft by indulging themselves and their offspring's lunchboxes in high calorie, zero nutrition snackpacks, courtesy of the towering Ho-stess shelf apparently mandatory in every superbox regional servicing unit. Just today we heard in rather sideways whispers, twinkie codone may not actually disappear, leading us to ask which investment fund headed by which overfed butterball will scarf up its profitability and keep the Union's scales squashed in favor of bloat while laying off the thousands of cake machine operators and whipped creme stuffers and chocolate corn syrup spreaders' assembly lines or the shrink wrap guys and the sell by date stamping ladies. This might be a good investment for the bane of our existence aka Romney's bane of his laughing campaign. Bain. They say he laughs too much. It is surreal isn't it, how the candidates campaigning for jobs creation only create fear and loathing while dissing each other, it is as if the dirtiest, slimiest smears win fame and increased fortune always at the expense of others who just want to be free of interference and left alone. And isn't it amazing any addiction at all spawns mammoth fix-it industries only to fail nearly every addict who manages to come up with the means for assistance? You ever wonder how such giant wads of dough spent on dirty mouth campaigning and false fixes could be put to better use? My gawd ...

They make lots of jokes, but no one is laughing, because the joke is, as usual, on us. While I was shaking my head in abject dismay over the primaries, while Abu Ghraib rose up from the zombie crypt to dribble the golden shower upon dead men smashed into smitheens, while trying to read all the blogs on my sidebar and divert my anguish, I happened upon Visible's most recent Origami post. Uhhhh, man.... what else is there to say? My first instinct is to take everyone lost in love's misery into my arms, hug you and explain a few facts of life that are unfortunately best learned though self-discovery, sorry.

I want to say I'm glad someone broke the ice on a subject we've never really examined here and yet it is the one thing over which we actually have some control. I will also say pairing off works for awhile for most of us and then it doesn't. God bless the child who finds his lifetime lover. Let's definitely acknowledge them because they live a different life from you and me and from where we stand it sure looks like paradise. All our lives we strive to achieve that kind of love and very, very few find it. I wouldn't pay too much attention to the statistics for lifelong partnerships, it is my observation most of them are not exactly living in the mutual bliss we would imagine, although statistics stating otherwise occasionally appear proving mostly what the statistician was paid to calculate, Fukushima being just one example of implausible figures.

It seems that when our pairings begin to show cracks, we do the worst things possible, ignore them until it physically hurts and then we go about applying patches until they come off exposing our bleeding confusion and then we fantasize about moving on, picturing a future with someone somehow more sympathetic to whatever sympathies we require be met. The whole picture reminds me of a grade school science film where cells move around in the bloodstream. They bunch up, some break away from the group and keep moving, some few are stuck together for the duration of the flow. Remember that? Now enlarge it to include the physical bodies of human beings and there you have it, we are Nature and it is only right that our behavior is based in Nature. This means ultimately, most of us won't be satisfied for long performing behaviors that are not suited to our own natures. Our inside person has goals of its own and to ignore them or suppress them, even in the face of certain self-defeat, because in your heart you know you cannot change the downward course you are traveling, it is more self-defeating to try to make something work that is not naturally designed to work for you forever. This "game" we play with ourselves has multitudes of applications, and all of them are metaphors for the external experience on this journey. Look at Globalism and the global enthusiasts, it doesn't work and yet, they cling to the plan in full denial exactly as this nation clings to its failed energy policy. It is the same with Climate Change, the legal system, foreign policy, etc.

Lately, I am of a mind that oneness, being alone, is the solution to the lifelong dilemma of pairing. We are all going to be alone in time anyway, alone in death, alone in our minds, as we've always been alone in our innermost thoughts, and it is those innermost thoughts that drive us towards anything worthwhile, healthy and beneficial, to ourselves and especially to others. If we did not have the capacity to hear this voice, our very survival as a species would immediately dissolve. In this economy, living alone is a luxury few can afford and there is certainly a great argument for doubling up while making ends meet, but again, it is a rare friendship living under one roof that can balance it peaceably for very long because we are, after all, critical thinking individuals with long-established requirements for just how our lives are to be lived. It is the reason communes didn't work very well. There is always someone with a surprisingly rigid mindset, then go with the flow flys out the window as incessant interference grates and sets limits, building fences around what can and cannot be undertaken or discussed rationally without the reliving of historical hurts distorting whatever was the original intent.

We are, if nothing else, bundles of unconscious memories constantly reminding our unconscious selves of our lifetime total of hard-learned lessons. All of our interactions with others are based on childhood patterns designed for self-protection which for the most part, are not recognized easily. That is why loss in love hurts us intensely, it can make you feel crazy, it makes some people suffer so badly they act out in ways they would never do otherwise, you can even say that kind of pain is the last gasp of a dying dream into which you invested the deepest, purest parts of yourself thinking all along you were finally a part of something real, something you were trained to desire as confirmation of personal worth as far back as early adolescence, when all the while it was merely a mutual physical illusion that a manufactured false desire bore reality, the probability of impossibility would not be yours, self actualization loomed.

The truth is the ideal of romantic love is pounded into our psyche from birth, adopted and capitalized on by savvy marketeers for an expanding variety of very profitable entertainment industries. We buy into all of it before our minds are formed and are bombarded by the fantasy from every direction, intensifying especially during the normal hormonal phase vital for procreation of the species, hitting us in so many snarky ways I won't bother to mention them, but be assured, no one escapes.

We could avoid the tragedy in a parting of the ways by simply playing musical chairs until the music stops and then start over again. There are lots of nice, bright people out there who would love to get to know us better. I can personally vouch for that having traveled often and far. Occasionally, I've found myself feeling like a mail order bride, yes, there really are many eager and lonely people oblivious to the sham of pairing off as the last answer to their suffering of the spirit. Oh, they bunch up, feel wonderful for awhile until the very natural human flaws of the involved begin to show and then others, outsiders, gradually command their attention as "Hey, wow, there's the real answer" and the music starts all over again. However, that band does not play for eternity. And for more people than is acknowledged, the band doesn't play at all. What does this tell you?

As far as I know, there is only One Love. It is compassionate love, it knows nothing of spite or of holding secrets or half truths or complete fabrications or petty deceits or vengeance behind the curtain, it just IS and cannot be distorted into anything other than what it is. When you accept it as it is without the malarky there is no pain. You know it when you meet it, you know it when its in you and you can recognize its absence clearly if you listen to what your innermost voice has to say. And to listen well, you need silence, time and harmony with your surroundings. You already have all the answers, they just need you to understand them.

There is nothing wrong with Nature, there is nothing wrong with us. We are stripmined just as Nature is stripmined, our feelings are a spectacular resource and like everything else in today's extreme world, very little stands the test of time being based on vanity and illusion. When you really get it, and I mean when you are so completely solid with your own spirituality, you do not need the opinions of anyone else to assure you that you are worthy of love because you love yourself already with the same forthright compassion you love others.

as we go on

2011-12-30T21:57:00.000-08:00

By now, I'm sure you're hip to Survival Acres. I've always been fond of John's way with words, perhaps its that weird, inexplicable ministry background infrequently referred to in his work. John's opinion on the evolutionary phenomena of information sharing is right on the money and insightful in that my enchantment with the web diminishes in parallel with the exponential rise of social networks, tech toys, apps and everything that is nothing less than sheep's ear tags for the identification of which herd belongs to which plantation and are they stupid enough yet, i.e.; finished fully, for the slaughterhouse? I do hope authors don't mind my brevity, I've done this before in comment links, when I nutshell a sort of boost for their labor by saying John doesn't mince words or overlook a particular iconic angle in the current zeitgeist even when others will perceive it as just another part of the background noise, its like white noise now, hypnotic, where it is what-it-is and it has no impact on anything happening out there and a worsening impact on what is happening inside. On a lengthy sabbatical in the Nevada desert, I lived not far from the drone nativity colony during which not a day passed I wasn't awakened by drones in training. They whine. Imagine a nightmarish Ellen Ripley-style drooling Alien, whining. All these recent stories in the media about the sudden use of drones on American soil are paychecks being collected for clicking on the press releases in their email. I was told by the locals in 2006, very nearly six years ago, in no uncertain terms, drones honed-in on a prison escapee inside an aqueduct which showed on the thermal sensor as a bright red line around the prisoner's seemingly hidden body.

Lying is ubiquitous from birth. We exit the womb into feeling-censored expression. Take a typical day and see if you can intermingle with a varied mix of personalities, including yourself, and see how many lies you hear and how many you tell. There is courtesy ... and then there is compassion. Both are on the wane with compassion actually being the real basis for love and for friendship, as the two are one. Then there is the disappointment one leaves themselves open to in showing the real self and finding whomever it is that you are interacting with won't go there and no matter how you try, there is no reciprocation. Of course we know there is a way, but few dare to tread that path for long, however heroic. The only saving grace I've ever found that works every time is Struggle On, life is about learning and if its truth you seek and truth you discover, it is a blessing regardless of the occasion. Even then, you cannot fix another person, you can only understand. With someone you are close to, understanding knows no limits unless you are being endangered which sounds a lot like the situation we are living through at this very moment in time, taking place up there under the stage lights of the main arena, the lame new world. We read, we interpret, we read more, we see the illusion come to life, we actually see the catch pens under construction, there can be no doubt and yet, it just goes on, it drones and whines and eats itself only to come out the other end as worse than it went in. Somehow, just when it appears the worst is upon us still we are able to reach for some rosy part of the day to lift us above the rabble into that sweet change where the air is fit to breathe and the soul is stirred. Bholanath's Wildlife Center and 'hood pics of the animals and avian families do it for me. So does Jimi Hendrix with Red House (over yonder).

It is extraordinarily rare to come across a person who is completely straight all the way regardless of circumstance, situation, dialogue in any and all relationships. We strive for this and too frequently fall short. This is a facet of the human condition, but being of the human species doesn't require that we cannot learn from our animal teachers.

Today I found a fallen Hawk, as magnificent a creature in death as in life, and carried him by his legs to a picturesque soft spot away from the road where his soul would enter the Animal Kingdom in natural peace. His lower backside was black charred, otherwise he was perfectly intact leading me to think perhaps he had some accident atop the phone pole, a favored place to hang while hunting. I'm hearing this kind of electrical equipment has to be grounded, so I can't explain the nasty burn. All that can be said about it is whatever happened, this true feathered monarch came in contact with something unnatural. In other words, he bumped up against the anthropogenic system and it cost him as it always costs all who meet with bumps. What is unusual and wildly prevalent are those who choose to participate in the entertainments, the circuses such as boxing, rodeos, Nascar, casinos and porn. These things are different worlds of territorial testosterone gone to extremes enabled by the highest bidder. This too is all another avenue of spectacular riches and occupies the fascinations of a huge part of the worshiping public with whom we interact making all that shared information gathered over the years absolutely worthless in changing the ways we are impacted in order to proceed through this journey.

The Internet has only pointed out in starker terms what has always been happening. Before the web, sometimes we heard it might be happening, now we read it happens regularly as if each event, crime, scam, rip, enslavement, hustle is brand new, but it has always been the vicious writhing mass of tortured secrets and inhumanity compounded with greater heights of inhumanity that you see unfolding before you now. It has no repair. Beauty and contentment are where you find them. You must take the steps to your own freedom. As I have said, compassion is the magic key. But like all keys, sometimes it is lost and you have to figure out where you left it and how you could possibly find it again in these times. Recently, I lost mine and got a case of serious trepidations racing back to the spot where I last remembered having it. A woman I'd never met drove up behind me, shouting "I've got your keys!" Sure enough, she'd even left a note at the spot. Keys, cards and ID were safe and as I took note of the excited children in her SUV (and obvious lookalike family members visiting for Christmas) the warm glow of gratitude enveloped me enough to hug her and leave the scene spiritually intact. I felt like I could post again. Breathe again. Kiss the dogs and hug the Oaks, fall on my knees in prayer for the Hawk that his body rest in peace and his soul fly on. That my friends I've never met are unknown multitudes of the ones already visiting, feeling just like us and deserving of whatever, small comfort we bring each other in these times of terror, joy, lies, loss of dignity and respect, humiliation, confusion, ecstasy, despair, etc., stepping away from extremes into our own personal freedom to speak what is on our mind and share what is in our hearts or simply dwell.

In truth, we can step out of the noise anytime, it isn't us, it holds not a scintilla of reality, so why be in it at all? It is not important to puff up ourselves with the Dangerous Life being offered through technology, the mob, sensationalistic media and titillating headlines and the people who believe it all and seemingly know no better, as if there is only one way to live, one way to love, one way to gain, if they know what it is to gain, seeing only the gain that morphs itself into loss, fully blank when it comes to deep wells of purity available everywhere yet invisible, but the life-giving source from which all must drink if it means anything to experience the years full of changes spent on Planet Earth. Everything we learn about each other reinforces the observation that no one is immune without inflicting great damage to themselves.

Whatever 2012 has in store for our planet, since we have survived so much already only to arrive here at this time of witnessing, there is not much that could take it away. And if there was something, some disaster, something tragic, have we not weathered these storms before and before that? I have watched the sun rise dawn over the mast discovering my low little sloop sailing in a school of sharks off the southern coast of the Dominican Republic, I have lost power on a windless day over knife-craggy reefs breaking the sea surface and figured out how to bleed a diesel while rocking back and forth as the water slapped the beam. I have held on for 6 hours to a T-Bar in a blizzard looking down at snowy treetops singing Calypso, Sparrow tunes actually, and walked on single train tracks above the surly canyons of British Columbia, stared down the barrel of a gun held by a hostile dealer and wrecked motorcycles on Riverside Drive at rush hour, leading me to think 2012 will be interesting if anything... May the New Year be the best ever for each person reading here.

If wishes grew on trees...

One Love

The farce flying in the face of quicksand

2011-11-24T19:20:00.000-08:00

Among the over-aggressive, fatuitous people who hitched their fates to the Illusion, the impossibility of continuance somehow came to them in subconscious, fleeting, here today, gone tomorrow moments and slowly took off in viral whispers over flutes of outrageously expensive champagne in the highest places to the point it no longer mattered if there were endings or beginnings or even the mildest concern if a nation crumpled and then another and another, all of them failing by definition of a failed state, definitions designed by and for the Illusion, such failures were and are ubiquitously welcomed as the natural free progression towards fabulous opportunity for the successful predator, the very most successful, the King of all Predators being, of course, M-a-n. A certain kind of man, belonging to a violent alien hybrid ethnicity perhaps.

At first, and for decades, it appeared and still does for the vast majority of helpless, confused slaves, that all, yes, every single one of the looming and dire threats facing our planet were being deliberately twisted, thrown into the Diversion Cellars of media conglomerates, misaligned by the most inconsequential, miniscule shards of truth and misrepresented to the public resulting in entire mountain ranges of false opinion based on yesterday's garbage. This body of opinion existed, and still does, to occupy the space in the human mind organically reserved for natural curiosity. How could it be, asked the worried slave, that a steady lineup of supposedly human models stands eagerly before the global camera bickering, misspeaking, yukking it up and putting forth agendas that would only serve to make a bad situation worse? That ever since climate change showed itself, the poisonous atmosphere has multiplied beyond record, that ever since awareness of a debt crisis was allowed, country by country is folding under pressure, that once it became obvious we were in deep trouble with peaking energy, there is more energy demand than ever before, and how could Fukushima's Chernobyl-style meltdowns occur with so little concern for the coming Cancers? How 'bout a little statistic on Afghan civilians wanting endless drone war? And why is it, asked the corn-fed children of the fructose-consuming slaves, all those regal leaders are running around bare ass naked, why, when its plain to see everyone's suffering is multiplying exponentially, do they keep on doing all those awful things? Who will punish them, who is not a part of the dark side, why are they immune to sanctions and death penalties? Even the little children, born into it, as busy as they are with their junior tech toys and belt bearing parents, can feel something is off while their meals consist of freeze dried doughy soylent green, but they are made to memorize the food pyramid in class. Oh, what to do? How do you answer to the kids? Would YOU personally cover for the Abusers? Um, I don't think so. You'll have to break it to them soon enough because out there in the big, big world, children not much older than those still under the discomfort of an underwater mortgaged roof are enduring recovery from in your face pepper spray dished out by the very dudes whose united motto is to protect and serve.

Who is being protected and who is serving whom?

Now, as yet another no fly zone is beginning the dogmatic excesses of being sealed into place over yet another wayward Arab Spring gone beastly, and the drumbeats against Iran grow into timpanic membrane-shattering thunder, we review these past decades as normal curious slaves and begin at last to fill in that difficult corner section of a trillion piece jigsaw puzzle. It would be easier to see through the fog if Black Everyday is a Shopping Holiday consumerism weren't equally as deafening in heightened contrast. Buy! Buy! Kill! Kill! While teetering malls track slaves by cellphone supposedly building statistics on what individual consumers do, where and how often inside gargantuan weather-less energy whales, why have we not heard of tracking the deadly results of Fukushima's meltdowns? Why is it off the radar to get statistics for the future of Niger's youth, Somalian famine devastation and what in the world is going on now that spawned enemy plantation overseers are deep sixed, in the dark of night, keeping the believers out of the fantasia media loop? When you start a story and the follow up is this weak, how are intentionally created, addicted to fake news slaves supposed to keep up with the full presentation? Every day, many times in a day, stuff happens. The news web revolves and spins with beginnings, but where are the endings? And the behind the scenes paragraphs and middle passages to keep up the interest? We're not supposed to know. We are supposed to be shopping, that is IF we are not panhandling dirty welfare hippies, living off entitlements, unemployed, a detested drag on the Dream turned to someone else's worst nightmare.

There cannot be endings and definitely not coerced beginnings and middles. You'll have to forgo them. A real ending is final and reveals the horrific reality that It Is Over. They know it, the slaves are not allowed to know. Not since JFK have we had a decent person looking out for American interests as well as Humanity's interest. This IS how it happened, step by secret step, sinking deeper into the Apocalyptic quicksand we lost our way in repetitive negative reinforcement. It was not as much a pure awakening as a gradual realization over time that Planet Earth simply can not keep on functioning as it was and still to this day hobbles to do what it once did naturally, except it can not under the massive weight of too many gaping mouths and fattened wallets and bodies in various states of declining health, starvation of nutrients, we are like plants and need sunlight to survive, but the survival mechanism has been destroyed along with everything else. This situation will go on and on until it can no longer carry the appetites of the self-inflated vampires taking it for granted our Earth is indestructible, one gigantic, unlimited free for all, ripe for the taking, an ongoing infinite, nonstop rape. The ending of all the stories comes when the last man passes out from exhaustion on the last portion of decayed asphalt realizing, "Oh No!" He knew it all along and his dying wish is to have been more prepared, to have told someone in a postion to do something what it was he was seeing. It won't happen because until there is no one left, there will always be someone else who thinks they know better than the slave.

We will be the first humans to have three world wars within a single century and the toll of each serves to expedite the quicksand's lust. It is not for lack of something better to do that Astrophysicists are deseperate to find planets bearing water. The only question left once they close in on the real deal is: Has mankind learned ANY lessons? I doubt it. The Universe is already known to be violent, it portends rather a perfect ending, does it not? An ending with a brutal beginning, a metastasizing disease infecting galaxy after galaxy. Will they bring along the gift blankets? Is there a map of Black Holes yet?

Su is right in suggesting the internet will be closed down. We have to expect it along with the continued diminshment in the quality of life overall. Every avenue of repair, hope, possibility, escape and salvation will evaporate before our eyes as planetary austerity grows and overtakes every small, insignificant innocent being just going along minding their own business because they will never, ever tell us the truth since the truth implicates them beyond the shadow of doubt. They will never understand in such times guilt is not the issue, we've known for decades blame is not a tool for conflict resolution, forgiveness and restoration of the natural balance is appropriate here, but their fear is too great. The paranoia is so pervasive at every level, they throw patsy after patsy into the lion's den hoping the audience will be finally satiated and quit their irritating questions. It is this death match which will continue to put forth all the wrong, actually opposite efforts leading to predictable failure leading to extinction of human and other resources that once supported a grand and glorious opportunity now wasted so badly it is fully impossible to go back in time.

Be sure to hug your loved ones, human or animal or both and be grateful for the time left and make possible whatever happiness for others, no matter how small that happiness, that you can bring about. We are here in these extreme times for that reason only. And it is a beautiful reason, there is none more pure than sharing our love and maximizing our compassion. It seems to me that meltdown is built into every nuclear power plant online and is it not possible that all of them could be adjusted somewhat to make nuclear weaponry? If that is the case, then the annihilation of Planet Earth is kinda guaranteed ... built into the plan you might say, not that slaves should ever spend a single minute dwelling on what that means in the bigger scheme. We like to have faith we will be around at least to see our lifetimes through and surely that will happen ... or not, the edifice and artifice are incredible, spectacular even, but all of it harbors that ugly little trapdoor keeping us neatly rounded up in place never to know exactly when or how this sad story ends.

You say you want a revolution

2011-11-02T15:17:00.000-07:00

"You say you want a revolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
You tell me that it's evolution
Well, you know
We all want to change the world
But when you talk about destruction
Don't you know that you can count me out ..."
John Lennon

If war was outlawed, which in the truth of Jah Almighty it is, there would be no crime. There would be no atrocities, no theft, no empire, no demand for more, no false growth, no need to be larger than we are for we are merely animals in costumes playing games with evil since civilian direction comes not from higher authority in these matters, but from the cesspools of conflict, consumption and selfishness.

Look where we are now as a species, paranoid and presumptuous, having completely lost our way, unable to act without acting irrationally, unable to make the connections required to achieve any goal to help the greater good prevail. As long as we war, we are locked into self defeat. Every issue, problem, disaster, argument is solvable, easily by taking the high road which our authorities (not mine, not yours, but those of the directionless ego driven self-spawned celebrity leaders and their investors) refuse to recognize as the only road to real growth and salvation of the human being. Just because we were born into it is no justification, just because history states these things as always having gone on, is again no excuse it continue now. We are at the bottom sinking deeper, there is no end in sight to the problems of men and still the grand illusion prevails as the only way forward. The joke of life is that no one ever states the obvious, much less lives it since six billion and ninety nine million human animals fear losing the miniscule portion of whatever is left them after they've lost seemingly everything that mattered.

If you missed this comment from Scrapwood last week, please force yourself to absorb it now, it lies at the heart of our existence.

We are, like all things, just fleeting forms already on our way to somewhere else. Poised between black despair and exquisite beauty, ours is a geologic perspective, a vision of the human cast against the elemental sweep of the universe. As in Tu Fu's most famous line: "the nation falls into ruins: rivers and mountains continue."

We all share the exile in a wilderness cosmology of relentless transformation.

I cannot recall a more sickening item online than the relentless mainstream media link to a frame-by-frame video of Qaddafi's sodomization. It was up for days, I refused the invite, holding back my revulsion simply from the vision as puke rose in the esophagus and wondered who in their right mind would click to view it. Is this what entertains my brothers and sisters now? Who among you salivates at seeing the sword draw blood from the anus of another person? My God! After what the human race has done to this man, even if it was his double, the unmarked grave, the total lack of celebration of a life, the pro-lifers in the candidate's seat swearing life begins at conception, utterly lacking in compassion for lives currently in existence as if every man and woman other than the speaker is an immediate threat. And as if that wasn't enough, hour by hour every single day, the crime on the ground fully emulates the enuring of our species. No matter where you are, lock down your life, danger lurks. Seal yourself from the others, their intention is always evil. You would think serial killing home invaders are calling the shots and for all we know, that could well be the case. Actually, I can't think of a better description of bigshots busying themselves dreaming of newer and ever-slimier activities.

Now the world is imploding because their economies are in failure, I ask you, what did you expect from an illusion? Don't tell me you bought into the fantasy of unlimited growth. If we are living on a finite planet, with finite resources, for a finite period of say eighty or so years, the entire concept of infinity is meaningless. There is only one infinity and that is the infinity of the Creator. The rest is gibberish, a massive con. Something to do while we breathe in, breathe out. Unfortunately it is a con that is woven from potentially indestructible complexities and doomed to persist until everyone is converted or dead or beaten down never to rise again to expose at last the impossibility of existence in any other medium other than that of impossibly infinite growth. All this worsens in the face of climate chaos. Nothing, not even God, stands in the way, in fact, climate payback empowers greater heights of spectacular hustles as if secretly, in the black heart of the pusher, time is of the essence. Oh, they know. Grab it all while the getting is good because soon enough somebody else will.

It all translates down the ranks into the unconscious mind of the little man just doing his best to get along until one day he is sick and tired of losing and acts on his own or more likely shovels the scheme onto his offspring that this IS how the world works and you'd better put in your two cents or you too shall lose. So we have the strangest deviations in civilian life no normal person could imagine. All the little powerless egos climbing on the bandwagon wearing badges of full faith in the religions of hatred of their fellows. Among the greatest of distortions is the distortion that fawning over atrocity is somehow evidence of Godly prowess.

There is no need for me to go into how this came about, it is simply a matter of selfish creature comfort taken to grotesque extremes, the python swallows the deer because he is hungry and has no idea what he is doing other than satisfying his urge. By this time, this time in the evolution of the human being animal, the spiteful power hungry have utterly lost any ability to relate to God and that is also not a surprise since the churches they attend reflect back to them the righteousness of their falsity. That war and war crimes are good and holy even, that economic superiority is necessary for the enrichment of their dogma and since the system as it presently exists is a supposedly established fact of life not to be questioned ever, but supported by aligning with the massive press of vainglorious authority for limitless expansion of more and greater deceit.

You could think, in these times, they've won. You could think you must escape, that where this leads is truly not for you, you could think all is lost and contemplate leaving for good by any means possible. If this is where you find yourself, I want to remind you that your very presence on Earth is a thorn on their rosebush. As long as you live, your existence is that which cannot be overcome. You stand in the way of the more they have in mind. I suggest you stick around as perhaps one of the few who see them for what they are and see through what they do, they are shallow, small creatures and do not have the ability to experience love that you do. Let your own life stand for that which they can never achieve. They can wreck everything, but not your personal heart and soul. In this way, they will never win. If they have not won you, they have already lost whatever wars they think they are fighting. That is the real revolution to work towards and it is entirely possible, everything else is open to political debate, scams, taking away, taking apart, atrocity, annihilation. There is an easier way, evolve yourself into your own sanctity. Make yourself the example of what you want a revolution to accomplish. Back off from common compromise which will always end up shoveling you back into the morass of evil and cherish your ability to feel compassion and love in all its sweet simplicity and bountiful, infinite rewards.

I have finally gotten around to reading Journey to Ixtlan, the Lessons of Don Juan by Carlos Castaneda. Better late than never. The line which applies here is from Don Juan's observation "Everybody thinks someone is doing something to them. But no one is really doing anything to anyone." We have to suppose that a huge majority willingly, consistenly, allows themselves to become pythons thinking pythons always triumph, let's go along with them to the bitter end. The problem with that is once the belly is satisfied it always craves more unless you personally reach for a higher relationship. It is up to us to to make that reach. Once you make it, you'll wonder why you didn't make it sooner. The timing doesn't matter, the reach alone matters. Being here matters. We were freely given a present of life, let's look further inside the box. There is a lot of good stuff in there we've cast aside because a fleeting authority of the moment decreed we look to them instead for our sustenance.

Sorry about your loss ...

2011-10-20T20:14:00.000-07:00

So they got Gaddafi. The hunted, haunted giant Moose in Buddy Holly glasses. Erasure phase seven hundred and thirty one, or whatever, accomplished on the Wetiko to-do list. One of the most serious, if not the most serious, barriers to looting the African continent for precious metals, Black Gold, water and jewels has been stealth undermined and viciously dismantled so the great global SuperCorps earthmovers can move in across the region and freely take without impediment while their errand clerks across the latitudes complain about entitlements. Now those protesting in Arab Spring Libya will be just like everyone else on the planet, without hope, without a future, without looking forward to anything, hey, welcome to reality. Don't get sick, don't complain, don't demand because your cries will absolutely go unheard. You will live out your days among what is left of your families, forever hungry, in the dark, freezing or sweltering, sicknesses and injuries untended until there is no more life left in you to breathe the fetid air from Big Everything's toxic processing plants.

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.
I am very sorry this is happening to you, we all are very sorry, our finite Earth has been flattened into one endless, lifeless, hardpan platform stretching beyond a fool's golden horizon of impossibly infinte growth, squeezing out every last coin from every last pocket and camel bag and body of water and gravel desert while we blogged online, connected through social networking sites and watched TV, all of which happen to be the weapons of first choice to use on the unaware until they are made aware by some creeping sense of imminent danger at which time, maybe the first time, you will notice the cameras and jackboots lingering beyond your garden wall. We no longer know who is in charge, who serves at who's pleasure, or where the money goes. You have already been slammed with the bloodthirst of star wars weaponry and explosives, all assets lost, whole cities annihilated dispossessing hundreds of thousands, the next stage will be civil wars based on whom is on whom's side, i.e.; what is and what is not OK to steal, regardless that everyone everywhere knows stealing is never OK. Expect gang wars in the palm groves. Expect the unexpected.

It matters none with what side you are on, contracts will be let and contractors you shall have - parading around sealed inside the latest advancements in protection vehicles, equipped to mow you down instantly if you should accidentally get in their way, do watch out, especially the innocent, all of you are regarded as dangerous to the mission and subject to immediate vaporization.

No home, no friends or family left alive, no food, no money, no reason to be anywhere, primarily not there. This is when life becomes impossible, I know, we've been there more than a few times and yet, as you will see, there will be signs that a wonderful highlife is happening behind closed doors, you will get word, you will sense it by the revelry and off-limits clubs and hotels where you are not welcome. You will gawk at the imbalance of life, you will be furious what began as something good has come to this. You will go over it in your mind again and again, wondering how it came to be, you will remember it wasn't billed as it has turned out and you will have thoughts about why it happened the way it did and is, and you will never ever stop trying to overcome your new station in life because it is fundamentally unsupportable of any life at all, except a tiny handful of agents to agents somewhere else that are agents to somewhere else again and then again.

What has happened to you and what will continue to happen is happening everywhere in the world, the humans have awoken from their slavehood and want real freedom just like you thought you saw as obtainable on daytime TV news and soaps. The news is that kind of freedom does not exist anywhere. Actors, elaborate film sets and commercial sponsors do not make a free people. I realize you have no means to leave, but leaving is worth your consideration and leaving for another westernized geography is not recommened. You are not important enough to the mission to be forced to stay, so grab only that which you value dearly and start walking, from now on think of yourselves as a nomadic tribe, seeking a place to plant your people for a better life, much like the Conestoga wagons of the 1850's old west, creaky and slow, but sure.   Stay clean, stay away from conflicts, stay out of cities, stay solitary except for loved ones. Keep moving until you are sure you have found a safe spot to hold you and your children's children for a long time. That will be very hard to find, I know, so you will be a traveler seemingly forever, expect it, relish it, pray for it. Trust nothing but the God inside you as your Guide and Guardian Angel in all matters.

The alternative is what the wastelands of Iraq and Afghanistan have become, massive obliterations of history, geneaology and culture and worse, the sudden absence of everything that functioned, that kept you grounded in soceity, your whole sense of any identity has literally gone up in smoke.

By some incredible miracle you have been spared, it is this miracle now that awaits you if you can pull yourself up out of hiding, come out from under the rubble, despite injuries and trauma to your mind and your soul, there is more to life than you have been allowed to think and the time to discover it is right now.   You have been miraculously given another opportunity to open your heart to enlightenment and it does exist on Earth but only for those whose suffering matches yours. You will make multitudes of new friends along the way. Just look for the Light. That is all you need to do, now and forever after. Godspeed, Jah Guide and hang tough.

World X sponsors revolution ap

2011-10-12T00:19:00.000-07:00

... Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man ...
Lou Reed , lyric from I'm waiting for the man

We who have been so badly burned over and over our skins red and oozing from the lash, and not just us, but everyone all around us in their varying states of suffering, look up and see protestors on tv, on the net, in our hearts, wondering what slimey deceitful tortures await them? That is how we've come to think. We are not really Stockholm Syndromers, appreciative of any pause in the new, upgraded wheel of everything, the operating system under which slaves, wrists leashed to railroad ties overhead, power the wheel 24/7. No, nada, nunca mas, rather we are compassionate, seeking their safety, It IS becoming too big to fail, this is empowering them, every arrest empowers them more, and then when the you-know-whos make the TBTF connection, the real war, not the one that has become totally automatized and roboticized, begins. Those real wars will be the one-sided wars of exposure of the most mundane detail of a human life interpreted to mean something completely different by running it through the press release machines. Wars of ubiquitous commercialism and sponsored entertainment, great amounts of wealth will pass hands. It will be attacked as a rite of passage, the Aborigine child at last becomes a man, because no one can afford to backpack through Europe anymore, and the costs are not always financial.

When Tahrir Square's protests began, bleating pundits directed opinion in the weeks long media blitz, the one thing you knew straight on was how the Overseers viewed it. The violence was roundly "deplored". You knew they wanted to quell that thing a.s.a.p. because it was giving others in other locations in the Zombie Food Court ideas. You know what happened later and how lovely things are over there today. Why in fact, many of us will recall a bizarre photo candidly depicting the war cabinet hovered over questionably functioning laptops.

I am jaded. I see things from the inside out, not outside in. It is natural to ask about anything that appears to be one thing, if perhaps maybe its another? Life is all about learning and this just one of multitudes of ways that we learn. "What if ..." is usually a good way to present the case. It invites sharing the responsibility of a direct response. That particular method of inviting exchange can go to unusual places and you will learn what you needed to know, if you didn't already, at the least you will have confirmed your original observations.

Maybe if ... we had not already put aside false desires such as hope and belief, and lived so hard on the barren plain of the human condition, crushed by repeated falls into the stairwells of life's basement long enough to recognize the pattern and its mocking roots of Wetiko wet nurses and Wetiko religious dogma, maybe we would want to ask who started what and why. Oh, forget the "why." Moreover, forget the "who" also. Who cares? "What" is what we learn, "how" is the core. And running through the heart, pole to pole, is the arrow of evil, the Yang. In the early chapters of Arab Spring, I suggested sovereign leaders were being rotated in a manner more beneficial to Big Mo. I think all of our questions are being answered with each passing event. Especially the part about sovereign which in the language of the World X OS upgrade translates to colonial.

If we apply what we learn to another situation we might say "What if ... what if the design is inextricably in place, all that is left is more bloodletting and the good old highway robbery under the cover of darkness and freight trains, forever underwater at the company store? One of billions wet-faced in the rain racing for shelter, to the tents and migrant motels? What if ... we die and are exploited further in death by past-their-prime degenerates playing their last card last off your back? Addicts never change. They can clean up, briefly, but its always calling. You bet they are hustling again, they are in a pact from the grave. The candidates are competing with the false flags. Every time, throughout all of human existence, when they start up that shuck and jive, it is the sound of hellfire and fury heralding in another notch on the ancient Totem of history. In fact, there was another heated display of cravings just today as the Iran drumbeat drifted across the prairies with the Cartels as back-up chorus. Of course, its not doing well on the charts, its rather worthless until they can use it in conjunction with the Times Square dude and the panties on the plane mule.

What success are we seeking? We are seeking peace of mind and to be left alone to pursue our authentic interests, so many of which are denied for all the wrong reasons regardless of geography. We seek universal love and compassion, genuine peace on Earth and recognition of every living thing on the Living Planet as family. These few things are not universally sought, you know that much by now no matter what station you may be waiting in during this journey, but be comforted - you are not alone.

*wysiwyg, its not sci-fi anymore

2011-09-24T19:01:00.000-07:00

OK, I give in, its time to write rather than experience. Let's start with Su's most recent and insightful post with the artwork I can't keep from visiting as if it were the golden compass reaching out, pulling me deeper into each sublime, anti-directional vortex of purity, so what about the world, love is all that matters anyway. The sooner they can get with the program, the better off we will all be. Yes, freed slaves, amen, Praise Jah I-Mighty! I decided to explore Su-san's thesis concerning deep thought "... alongside which arises a shallow thought." The Beagle-Basset and I took off to the highest ridges in search of burn scars to paint, in fact it was going to be an episodic story within a story within a story. Right away, well, as soon as we were a mile or more beyond the familiar, Su's statements on thought veiled themselves over a widespread cluster of Flannel Bush and Pinyon Pine. Here is what happened: The journey was all about observing the wonders of Nature, the awesome variety of vegetation and the animals' habits and spare, but clever habitations, especially the Quail coveys who live inside thickets made by wandering Pinyon branch and tumbleweed. We never reached any burn scars, the truth is I don't want to see them. By this time next year, so much overgrowth will have reborn and within another year, there will be few, if any signs of wildland fire. If you must see it, you'll have to peel off layers of bark to get to something burnt. The obvious conclusion is our Mother heals herself. Interpret that as the uselessness of a careless, sloppy, gullible species, unlike pollinators, unlike birds, unlike the variety of predators who manage species populations and species who turn the Earth and clean the seas for new life all on their own. What do we offer anyway, but to capture them and throw them into laboratories, zoos and aquariums, drown them in oil, sell them and cannibalize them? When you are told the specialty of the house is a delicacy, you'll know you are being served Murder with Geno on the side smothered in Vampire gravy. What I think Su san means by petty thoughts are actually guideposts we do not much like, thinking our previous state to be so deeply satisfying, we want to stay there. We know exactly what she means, but I've made the effort to track what could really be happening when our minds depart from the exquisite as an apparent pettiness suddenly intrudes its way into our bliss. These guidepost thoughts can be anything, but the ones we dislike the most are those having to do with an issue or conflict that requires your immediate attention. Your calm has attracted your sense of responsibility, desirous of balance, since only in a clear state will you be able to explore and satisfying all necessary criteria.

Line up your petty thoughts for a minute and see what they are saying. Try it now. Perhaps seen this way they become warnings so that you may act to preserves your balance. Or, perhaps the abundance of petty thoughts centered in one particular area of interest is telling you truths you would much rather deny. While we can look to many events as being designed personally for us by The Forces, petty thoughts have a way of itemizing the bigger picture and thus initially appear to us as small, insignificant details, mostly unworthy of our character and therefore unworthy of note. However, when you think of them as guideposts, you could be educating your way out of many mysteries and coincidences surrounding your journey. Our minds can know far more than we allow, we are personally in charge of setting our own limits. In this strange, hungry and dangerous period on Rogue Planet Earth, we are trained to ignore the obvious. The obvious is of course, the elusive you are seeking. I am certain we discard the obvious many times in the course of one single day because the obvious is socially damned.

This brings us around to the social acceptability of institutionalized belief systems in existence long before we came into consciousness, such as the death penalty, a pharmaceutics sponsored media ceremony packed with symbolism which Vivek recently compared to ritual sacrifice.

As the hours preceding the Troy Davis 11:08PM execution drew short, a white supremacist was executed in Texas at 6:10pm, followed the next day by yet another execution in Alabama. (I could hardly believe my eyes!) We tend to recall the seemingly never ending racial prejudice of the old South, and yet a white man in Jasper, Texas is taken out for his murder of an African American which might in the long run mean nothing, but Texas does have quite the record, does it not? Rick Perry has allowed 234 executions to go ahead during his three terms as governor. Does he think this makes him a popular guy? Surely the arguments pro and con will go on until the concept of execution is wiped off the face of the map. I educated myself on both crimes and present you with another conclusion. It matters not who is guilty, what matters is no execution brings back the victim.

People clamor for justice in exactly the same way they clamor for the nanny state to do something, by God. They have been fed the lines of dogma since birth and will never let it go. This is domestic violence and Stockholm Syndrome writ obese. They believe with all their hearts and minds they should have their high value justice, like a cheeseburger and fries, like flags and symbols of a superior race, like some sort of warranty for performing in a lifetime of going along to get along and paying taxes. The very word justice and its ugly sister, revenge, will always be there because it is perceived as deserved, legalized payback by and for the people victimized by the crazies living among them. Of course, they aren't crazy themselves, or disturbed, or misguided, or unclean with buried secrets, are they. My friends, when you see these things unfolding, taking over your thoughts and visuals, you are witnessing the triumph of nothing less than the representative self. The outside persona as media interviewee, justifying, defending and auditioning to win his/her rights that somebody must pay for every evil in their upside down zeitgeist where evil is the new angelic.

When are they going to face their truth? This is why I've often inferred the ending of the War is far away. What you see is what you get which has a way of inflicting worse as overpopulation bulges out of control. I suggest the amount of evil may well be in close parallel to the amount of humans occupying the planet.

Justice and revenge are way up there on the to do list meaning that which we must resolve before moving ahead is possible. They are waved about as threats, ultimatums and punishments and it should be especially obvious in this millennium they are ineffectual gaping holes in a crumbling overall system that appears to have no idea where it wants to go or how to save itself, instead over-breeding, over-consuming in the very face of resource depletion, crippling debt, mass indigence and over-entertains itself from sheer lack of anything better to do, void of creativity and absent any sensitivity at all to the necessary stewardship of the very Earth from which all of us should be down on our knees in humble gratitude for the incredible experience She provides every living species without exception. I would go so far as to say every living species, sentient or not, but non-sentient is another myth designed to comfort yourself as you crush the hapless moth desperate for his freedom. You can see how even the extremely smallest among them work themselves into frenzy trying to flee your assistance.

I wouldn't waste your brain trying to figure out what course of action is required, it is akin to attempting to unwind any institutionalized belief - beliefs frequently founded so long ago in a very different and far less crowded world, designed by ancestral representative-selves indulging their victors' pomposity in sealed Dickins-lite, that everyone acting it out in the present forgot what they are doing while conveniently blanking out the most elementary knowledge, All actions bear consequence. Those who perpetuate the backward system, thirsting for just-us and preaching revenge are intractable. The integrated you, lacking a representative-self, cannot argue with an actor.

Perp (or not), victims and their clinging spokespeople, including the tragedy media and that vast complex of Death Cult-carpet baggers, I am sad for them all who willingly choose to blot out the healthier, higher understanding and greater purpose resident within the potential of every human being. If we could just get to that place where everyone's minds/hearts/souls, those beaten down, dammed up, the authentic human underneath the publicly acceptable face interacting superficially with the publicly acceptable public, felt completely free to respect the oneness of all, in concert with right intent and right action, organically unable to harm, disrupt or disturb, there would be no need for the cages and needles, the cameras, the drones, the prejudices and the hatreds and evil deeds. To change harmful beliefs held by others, you first must set the example for why that change is necessary. To heal a terrible infection, you must first disinfect the affected areas.... and so forth.

For more on this subject, and as I mentioned earlier, Vivek shares his perspicacious revelations on the master scheme in three consecutive essays over the last three days. I relish his discoveries. They key into those realms we are not yet developed enough, and possibly never will be at this rate, to fully grasp, although we try and some of us come close, concerning the whole miraculous mystery, the Grand Design aka Something unEarthly, slippery, indefinable and just how it applies its magic to little citizen Earthlings.

You could get the idea we are nothing more serious to "it" than billions of nano-particulates in a glass of water. Everything disastrous that happens is because "it" spilled the water, added more water, added alien flavorings to it, ran it through a coffeemaker, threw in some teabags and lemon, or sand, dust, electricity, dropped it, stuck it in the dishwasher or smashed it while having a tantrum. We might be leftover crumbs on its table, brushed off and vacuumed up with all the physicists and scientists explaining how his/her theory means lah de dah.

a select destiny

2011-09-07T15:09:00.000-07:00

"... Be careful where you're walking
You might step in something rough
Be careful where you're talking
And saying all that stuff
Take care when you are breathing
Somethings funny in the air
And somethings Im not saying
Bout what's happening out there
Its inside out ..."
Traveling Wilburys, from Inside Out

Having seen Avatar again recently, there is no question we, the Humans, have it all wrong. Well, that is IF we were designed to thrive within the same galaxy as Pandora and her allied planets. We may not have been elected for living in harmonious balance. We may be something else, a rogue planet, the balance the Universe requires, as if no particle is complete without an antagonist. Is good complete without evil? And vice versa? There are stories, such as Earth is the prison planet, or Earth is the feed lot for aliens. The truth is we have no way of knowing for certain with the exception of how we have performed historically as a species dwelling on this planet. We have performed exceptionally poorly, stupidly and foolishly. Can you imagine Pandora with her ability to call species from like-minded galactic bredren and sistren destroying herself from the inside out? Never! If however, there is nothing like Pandora in existence and the other planets are stuck in a me, mine rotation, we have before us the grandest opportunity ever to make a difference, an opportunity presently being blown up, blasted, fracked, radiated, microwaved, tasered, tortured, denied, whipped and generally debased as geographic slave congregations under the watchful technological eyes of the plantation overseers who happen to be far worse in carrying out punishments than their oblivious masters busy keeping their infinity pools overflowing. I fear the change we know could come about will not happen within our lifetimes and I doubt anyone reading here could become inured, although it is possible, albeit briefly, perhaps a few days at most. I know those few days are hard when it happens, but you bounce back, you know too much. you feel too much, you see everything and what you don't see, you soon will. You see when you are not trying to see.

There is no beauty without ugliness, The Tao, v.2
watercolor on Arches '06

One of many thousands of things I've read online over the years was a piece on depression claiming people who are depressed are actually more in tune with the reality of their situations. They are fearful of what they see and it pains them physically. Compassionate friends or family want to help them come out of their pained state because the depressed are a drag on the health and happiness of the greater clan and will perform a variety of comforts designed to lift the depression and return the depressed to a more satisfactory state. It can work, but only temporarily. It cannot work in the long term because the state of depression is the state of seeing our fundamental realities, slaves on a rogue planet where anything could and will happen. Taking comfort for granted is living a lie. There is no perfection without imperfection. The Jane English and Gia-fu Feng translation of the Tao Te Ching says, in so many words, there is no beauty without ugliness.

Under heaven all can see beauty as beauty only because there is ugliness.
All can know good as good only because there is evil.
Therefore having and not having arise together.
Difficult and easy complement each other.
Long and short contrast each other:
High and low rest upon each other;
Voice and sound harmonize each other;
Front and back follow one another.

Therefore the sage goes about doing nothing, teaching no-talking.
The ten thousand things rise and fall without cease,
Creating, yet not.
Working, yet not taking credit.
Work is done, then forgotten.
Therefore it lasts forever.

But on a rogue planet, the balance can change as easily as the heartbeat of life.

Sometimes it makes us feel like the walking dead. Cats with nine lives who have multiplied the odds as they keep coming, back to back, each should have claimed us we say, yet we live to see more. And more again. Something we cannot define with science and logic is happening here, a grand design, some not-of-this-world intention we are simply not at the rightful stage of development to comprehend regardless of our effort. I believe this makes us a unique product of evolution to remain invincible in the face of pure unadulterated evil where vast and continuing material loss strips us to the lowest category of Earthly life and it has no influence at all, we go on in trust, always looking forward, accepting each test as triathlon athletes determined to pass and not just well, but intact, because in spite of the incessant repeats, it makes the good, the pure, the honest, the natural reverent and holy, gifts from somewhere else reminding us the world we desire really does exist and one day we are destined to reach it.

the catalytic converter model of progress

2011-08-21T12:17:00.000-07:00

There are no coincidences. Keep that in mind when nine eleven's ten year global observance ceremonies come round. We will be told the alerts are way up there, they will rub Breveik, Loughner and Ft. Hood in our faces while never mentioning Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Following the bomb's birth from Enola Gay's belly, right away the victorious occupiers began a study, now documented in the National Geographic Explorer series "The First 24 Hours After Hiroshima" as if it was an altruistic thing, a study concerning exactly what happens to detonation sites aka Ground Zeroes, for the good of the future. I'll say that again so you can interpret what that was supposed to mean in the year 1945 AD ... The-Good-of-the-Future. You would think, wouldn't you, having researched and tested and retested the incredible damage done to life and infrastructure from genocidal weapons of mass destruction that there would be no such thing as a Nuclear Lobby and nuclear power plants, anywhere. But the satanic treasure chests these things bring forth have a hold like none other. It is ~~hard~~ impossible for us to find anything altruistic and progressive about what was and is happening. It is my hunch, Fukushima is played down because not only will the truth crush already waning public opinion, but also the Japanese don't want us with our gifts that keep on giving, anywhere around. Certainly, plenty of people in Japan are reliving the hell on Earth they experienced as infants... all over again.

Regarding recent comments on "Simplicity" during our last posting here, Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Fukushima, and all the people purchasing and using dosimeters, losing their homes and livelihoods, their families and their faith and the many who are already ill and dying of radiation poisoning, and for the remainder of their lifetimes live in paranoia cancer will one day take them down, birth defects, contaminated food, NONE of it had to happen, even Somalia's famine did not have to happen IF we had been a loving, compassionate, spiritual people from the start. Now we have layer upon layer of unnecessary complexity (©John Michael Greer) jamming up the works so that nothing flows smoothly or efficiently. Its almost as if we grew catalytic converters out of the tops of our heads to survive the Twentieth Century and no one pointed out how absurd and unnecessary it was so we went further and built monolithic exploding catalytic converters in every vacancy the money was available to pay for it, and if the money wasn't there, the IMF was. This is insane because a catalytic converter does not make a vehicle's engine run. It is an unnecessary and expensive "part" that must be rigorously inspected every year or two depending on your state's DMV requirements in order to register a vehicle (again, that does not need it to "go") to be deemed legal, i.e.; free from impounding. (Mandate alert) This analogy is only one of billions cataloging unnecessary parts, actions, expenses, activities, employments and improvements in progress, growth and market opportunities that make life for everyone a Brillo scathing hell on Earth.

Not a day passes in our lives we are not somehow impacted by senseless tragedy. Every dead animal run over on our streets is another senseless tragedy. Make way, its Man! Run, run.

For the past two days there has been a curious discussion for the masses started by a NYT opinion columnist's piece concerning angry space aliens warring with Earthlings because we trashed this place and our trash threatens the balance of the galaxy. The MSM is having a diversionary heyday with the idea. Little do they realize how close to the truth they may well be. Unfortunately, it is just another PR trick to 1. divert public attention and 2. deny responsibility. Aliens have every right to be angry and you'd better believe if they were warring with us, you would not need the MSM to carry on in satire to tell you about it from their moral depths of sheer depravity and lush experiences rewriting history to suit the victors.

How can anyone call themselves a victor anyway when to achieve that label, entire nations lose everything? Collateral damage is a nation. There is no such thing as blowing up a region without civilian deaths, even at testing sites, if the bomb doesn't kill them, cancer will. They have yet to design a selective bomb affecting solely combatants no matter how many joystick jockeys wearing cammies and jackboots guide the drones. Does it make the Victors feel good to kill and mutilate, is that feeling good the feeling of victory, pride, honor and glory? Let's get real here my friends, those are not feelings descriptive of anything remotely simple, humble or compassionate. Those feelings are only more of the full-on twenty first-century advancement in the catalytic converter model of progress.

For an exercise in what you do not need in order to live a kind and decent life, look around you at this very minute and count the many things, elements, situations, behaviors in your very own location of the moment that you do not need for your survival. While I have said here many times we can boil the righting of most everything wrong down to Do No Harm, we should add to that: Do No Harm and Unburden Yourself of Excess. Be ready for anything, unconsciously, while everything you attempt becomes itself, doing it so perfection in action is achieved as you and "the attempting you" are integrated in the simplicity of one streamlined model of natural efficiency.

Has anyone read Eugen [sic] Herrigel's Zen and the Art of Archery? Highly recommended. You can find references to it, but good luck locating the work. Just as wonderful is Gilbert Highet's The Mystery of Zen describing Herrigel's journey into archery under the tutelage of a Zen Master. Again, that work appears to be only available in the Norton Anthologies, compilations of brilliant stories and essays, most of which are not available online. If you should come across either work, you will discover a beautiful way to think about not thinking unnecessary thoughts and integration of your actions into the activity itself.

Here is a very simple thing: The Wildlife Center in New Mexico needs our help. As a wildlife lover, I have an insatiable desire to give over to the cause and ask you to join me. This summer's horrific fires created a deluge of wildlife in need and we must help however, wherever possible. While you are downsizing your lifestyles, please consider sending your extras to the location where they will be most useful.

The following is a quote from Cheryl at the Wildlife Center:

... For those interested in monetary donations, checks can be mailed to The Wildlife Center ... or donations can be made via PayPal on our website ... For those who wish to donate food and other supplies, here is a current list of needs. If somebody wants to donate produce, please have them check with us prior to purchase to ensure we don’t have too much of one thing on any given day, as some items cannot be frozen ...

          Dry kibble dog food – puppy and adult
·         Dark leafy greens (no iceberg or cabbage)
·         Celery
·         Carrots
·         Grapes
·         Bananas
·         Apples, other fruit
·         Honey
·         Gerber Rice Cereal Boxes
·         Apple sauce
·         Frozen mixed veggies (NO LIMA BEANS!)
·         Wild Dove Food (PetSmart)
·         Finch and Canary Seed (PetSmart)
·         Wild Bird Seed (limited amounts)
·         Bleach
·         Powdered Laundry Detergent
·         Paper Towels
·         Ziploc Bags – Freezer, Quart and Gallon
·         Copy paper

My note: If you can get produce shipped with a one day delivery it might work, otherwise, I'd go for the less perishable items on the list. Injured bears are the heavy users of dry dog food. Our Animals and Avian bredren are gravely suffering and we must make it up to them or we will lose them forever.   Address, email, etc. at the website.

one fine day, the circle will be broken

2011-08-08T16:13:00.000-07:00

History repeats itself.
The following was #12 on Billboard in 1959:

They're rioting in Africa, they're starving in Spain.
There's hurricanes in Florida, and Texas needs rain.
The whole world is festering with unhappy souls.
The French hate the Germans, the Germans hate the Poles.
Italians hate Yugoslavs, South Africans hate the Dutch.
And I don't like anybody very much!

But we can be tranquil, and thankful, and proud,
For mans' been endowed with a mushroom-shaped cloud.
And we know for certain that some lovely day
Someone will set the spark off, and we will all be blown away.

They're rioting in Africa, there's strife in Iran.
What nature doesn't do to us, will be done by our fellow man.
Kingston Trio

Of course, the names and faces change, the agenda only sounds new, but its not. We have serious problems that go ignored while the world continues to react to created chaos. Even the lyrics shown above are part of the agenda, i.e.; look here, don't look over there. It is remarkable we've come so far in spite of the real and lingering threats to humanity, isn't it. If one single person does something wrong, creating rippling problems for others, they are hunted down and thrown into the corporate slave labor market. If leaders in collusion with others, all of them doing things wrong, the world falls apart, you'll notice, over and over and over again. We are expected to pick up the pieces of our lives and go on.

But this time, it really is different. There is only so much picking up the pieces we can do. The one thing we've learned if we've learned nothing else, is it is worsening. And now, we are disgusted with this long drawn out worsening stage. Everything is more painful and less understood as the panicked pile onto each other's panic like Charles Graner's Abu Ghraib pile of prisoners photographed in compromising position. (Linked for anyone who was over-consuming at the time instead of waking up to the incessant filth of harsh interrogations.)

The S&P ratings downgrade is ludicrous in its weak attempt to label for the panicked that which was already unfolding. Its another false flag that takes us into higher inflation paying higher interest rates on the foreign loans we can't pay anymore without staged cage fights from the crazies. What else is up their sleeve we ask since the whole scheme is stupidly transparent.

Here's Marshall Auerbach on Counterpunch:

... for the record, the S&P (along with Moody’s and Fitch) covered themselves with glory during the housing bubble, rating toxic subprime junk as AAA rated paper. Not only were the agencies politically corrupted by virtue of their incestuous ties to Wall Street, but criminally incompetent as well. ...

Definitely there will be more ugly kickbacks as dollar signs gleam in the eyes of our creditors. Do understand though, what is happening here is not the end of the world, that comes later, as we age and evolve under roiling skies, tsunamis, mass famine and endless war because those in position to do the right thing don't do it and certainly didn't do it when the opportunity was before them, even the wealthiest and most altruistic, by default, throughout history allow evil to take its course and now it is too late. It is too late because seven billion people is an unmanageable number and the real agenda is to bring that number down, just like an impossible debt, humanity is out of control. There are no bailouts available for overpopulation.

It is tragically amusing in a diabolical way that we are being reminded through every technological vehicle of communication that today's market crash is straight out of the 2008 playbook. This sets us up to expect a repeat of the past three years. Recall a few posts back the reminder concerning Stockholm Syndrome in which every simulacrum of relief is interpreted by the slaves as a kindness, an improvement in conditions and creates false hope which is false desire. And false desire, you know, is the cause of all suffering.

As long as we willingly hand over our attention to the noise, we will suffer needlessly since each journey by itself contains enough pain, sorrow, joy and glory to keep us occupied.

God help those who pay to play and may eternal fire and brimstone embrace those who lie, cheat and interfere at the expense of the innocent.

seeking Yin in a Yang existence

2011-07-31T20:40:00.000-07:00

If you want to know why everything is so weird, backwards, upside down and growing more so, look no further than the, heh, bipartisan cage fights going on at our expense. What we see occupying the mouths and dials of any subject du jour gone wild from Casey Anthony's farce of ~~a forensics trade show~~ the judicial system to the made-for-Twitter debt ceiling brawls is standard BAU, supersized as technology advances and the money moves, changes hands and moves again always pretending to recreate itself as larger, smarter and more deserved while vanishing through the revolving doors of the Bond Holders' international headquarters.

There appears to be a pattern developing, a devolving pattern, is it possible that everything comes crashing down at once? Or is it first, the sense of crash, then the announcement, speeches followed by political analysts analyzing what we already heard or wished we had not, then the shakedown takes place, after the fact, the effects rippling out as a flat stone skipped across the entire world's bodies of water, jumping the shores, landing smack into the heart of the world's capitol cities who then react with a combination of panic and schadenfreude. Certainly other nations have noticed something of a pattern as well and easily for much longer, meaning they are likely far advanced in disciphering patterns. In fact, I would venture that Somalian mothers probably know a lot about patterns, especially in a famine - a day away from death, when the limits of the technology that sends messages, money and images around the globe at the speed of light, delays the vastly underestimated food drops. Uh, sohree, maybe next week, maybe next month ... but hey, we're working on it.

We know nothing for sure. We only know its all speeding up while winding down. Isn't that what they call a speedball? Nothing will be the same this time next year or maybe it will, we don't really know, do we. The pattern I'm seeing is like a video projected on a blank wall. This video has one basic frame of a massive chart superimposed over changing images of global disasters, as the disasters increase or level off, the chart notes the activity. All activity including epidemic outbreaks, the air crash in Guyana, Arab Spring in Israel, China's financial wizard hoping through the media they get paid back first, Arctic Scientist sent packing for seeing and thinking too much... Moody's in a bad mood. There are red lines all over the place, zigging up and zagging down, unstable and trembling, its not something someone would bet on, or is it? The reason a lot of us can't fathom how ubiquitous are CDOs and why they were allegedly referred to as weapons of mass destruction by Warren Buffet, is betting that the opposite will take place goes 100% against the grain of those who are doing the right things, the good things, at all times. The bookies of our planet probably have a much clearer perspective on the state of humanity and surely cannot resist taking advantage of the situation as often as possible themselves. You know, access is power, and ... and
so forth.

So deeply imbedded in the slave psyche is the concept of The Dream that nothing interferes with such beliefs without a continuing series of unparallelled shocks eventually proving one undeniable element, existence of pernicious intent, over which you personally have no control and from which you along with billions of others are denied relief. Is it even rational to suggest created chaos? What happened to integrity? There can be no integrity when everyone at every level of society is more concerned with CYA. A very human trait, some are better at it than others, some can't hide motive while plenty do, those with far too much invested are blind genius pigs who can't see themselves as we see them oinking and snorting at the trough overflowing with the spoils of a possessed population, a population dodging and weaving before taking the hit, again and again. Of course there are reactions, it makes you rethink any number of mysterious events in a brand new way.

Imagine a world where anything you said and did went viral before you took your next breath? And billions of human beings judged from every possible and impossible angle whatever you said and did? My how far the fledgling colony of fundamentalist pilgrims has come, advancing exponentially what could not have been nearly so surgically precise and hidden from all slave eyes relative to the known history of western civilization. We often read or hear that situations supposedly similar in pattern, long before we ever came along, always happened, as if that's some kind of comfort to dream on, which it is not since what is happening now never happened with seven billion people on a rapidly depleting Earth where every thought and deed circles the globe - at the speed of light.

The photo uploads displayed below took long enough for the Sunday night cage fight championship "Obama vs. Boner" with Harry Reid as cutman mopping blood, tears and sweat, to reach ~~a deadlock~~ a temporary agreement on their obligations to Planet Earth which must still pass Congress and is still slated for super-review, all over again, by Saber tooth Sharks bearing execution axes come this fall, after their vacations. At this late hour, 8:20 pm EST, that's the best they can do? We ask why put everyone through this extreme adventure in pernicious procrastination? They must hate everyone they work with, hate their jobs and would leave in a heartbeat if they were not making so much funny money on the side, unless of course, they are evil aliens living among us and this is actually another episode of Torchwood - Miracle Day.

Enough of that. Now for the treats:
I've always said, when a system is this FUBAR, we must go back to the beginning. Here are the efforts of someone who broke on through to the other side, our Rasta's camp, a real life survival dream coming to fruition by the day. Thanks and Praises. The message that arrived with these sweet "sights" read:

Nina, some images upstairs, downstairs tent, pond on walk to sea with lotus's and crocs. Etc.
Night coming, walk 20 mins to camp.
One Love

Sincere gratitude, I-turey, for allowing us to share a little of your experience. Walk safe Spar. Those cows appear to be all in one piece and we want you to continue with your camp construction all in one piece too. When we look into your world, we are seeing the Yin and Yang of Life on Earth. Its good to remember when the going gets tough, wherever there is Yang, somewhere else, thankfully, namaste, there is Yin.

independence camp

off the grid

the road home

Lotus Lagoon in Tureyslandia

stairs to enlightenment

Jah Pups

Namaste: I bow to you and send I-greetings to your helpful bredren and Jah pups. Now we see what a serious survival family looks like and it looks like Love.

Interruptions During a Cage Match

2011-07-23T00:07:00.000-07:00

Anyone still confused at this late stage? On a personal level, as metaphor, we live our lives in a series of situations, for the most part, floating through the days and hours as if there is no ending. There are always things to do and be done, the incredible variety of living species in our situations that require attention, and often there are little jams to be unraveled, which we unravel and continue on with our journeys. In other words, we're coping, as best we know how at any given time ... until something like these times comes into focus and digs its way into our minds as a bad cloud. No matter what happens, the bad cloud is carried within. Every now and then it rolls itself into a hurricane or tornado and whatever else is going on within has to take a back seat. Lately we've found ourselves unwittingly embroiled in bullying bs boiling over in the very kitchens of the bad cloud's panic promotional. Ages ago I put up a line from the original film Wall Street where Bud Fox's Dad says to him "A man lives long enough, he sees everything."

And yet, what we are seeing is part and parcel of events that have been years in the making. As we grew up, there were plenty of signs and omens, generally misinterpreted as if such "very fine people" couldn't possibly be behind the growing evil. Here's one thing I know, which I learned early. Very fine people do not wear white ties. Tacky, tacky, tacky. You can imagine my utter dismay every time one of these very fine people makes some televised, i.e.; visual, statement about anything going on in the bad cloud and how really, really, its a good cloud, while adorned in absolutely fatal fashion statements. You may think I am kidding, but I am serious. Only factual, dyed-in-the-wool handmaidens to the Devil himself, slimeball Mobsters wear white ties, or pink, or yellow or anything bordering on pastels. Have you ever looked at those ties on camera? Dancing pixels sending bizarre rays into your pupils. You will note, they appear to possess a dress code as well as common purpose among them. Their fawning grocery clerks, errand boys/girls and celebrity punditry adopt all of it to better drive home the Mission. Personally, I got out of that car a long time ago. I'm not sure exactly what it was, it might have been the pastel neck-wear. it might have been the always misfit trying to fit in all the wrong places with all the wrong people. It might have been a particular hallucination where peaking, suddenly everyone grew very small, something like looking through a telescope backwards, crystal clear, everything was the same so I perceived, except the amazingly sharp reduction of everyone and everything within view. I might not have come back from that had it not been for a rescue to another artist's hideaway except he was one of these artists who liked to grind a subject into its abstract which can be done if you work at it long enough, a stage which he had not yet reached still being a literalist making O's in primaries. His studio aka free room in the squatter's commune was painted with every color and size circle the way you'd roll whole walls and ceiling in soft white, right down to the floor, the fabrics, the fireplace and so on. My problem was they were all spinning like wild crayola cheerios blown from a cannon which created a kind of whirling nausea and yearning for the outdoors, for something real, Nature and its comfort which eventually I found crawling downstairs, to the door, to freedom in the anonymity of city streets, one foot and the next until I led myself to green pastures lying down with wildflowers in the meadow watching clouds move, meet and move again, they were good clouds. I looked sideways long enough to see friends join in. It seemed we lay there centuries. We might have.

I'm still not sure of any tipping point where it all gelled. Not a day, lately an hour, passes without some intrusive nonsense like the "jobless recovery". As much as I would love to be done with it, it smarts. While today we might find we are not affected, surely tomorrow we will be? We have all been affected, perhaps not all at one time, but we would not allow bad clouds the opportunity to linger, even distantly, if we were not personally familiar with the extremes of pain they are capable of producing. We remember a moment in time, we have memories of disaster, we have had our hopes and expectations dashed to smithereens, we have lost loved ones, we have seen others lose everything and lost too much ourselves along the way. We believe in redemption, we trust in resurrection even without visual confirmation we have confidence in the goodness of living, that it is holy, that life itself is holy and that interior perfection of every living being is all the proof necessary and nothing can take that perfection away.

Do yourself a huge favor and read these links, if you have not already, in any order, order hardly matters, although I realize I have implied some order, it won't take up all that much of your time since you are already online reading, here are a few things to absorb that should stick, I know, so little sticks anymore, but give it a try:

From Mick:
The Handbook of Human Ownership for New Tax Farmers

From Vivek:
Hey America ...

From James Kunstler's CN comments:
The Great Global Debt Depression: Its All Greek to Me

From Paul Craig Roberts:
An Economy Destroyed

Done yet? Go and finish them now, at least one of them, I'm not going anywhere and I know the last two are particularly lengthy, but important! If you get fidgety, a typically addicted to convenience and/or chaos-driven western citizens' trait, just read the last one first (backwards is a great way to go since front is back and back is front now) all the way through and return later as you carve out space in your offline Word calendar for sincere acknowledgement of self through definition of the Apocalyptic experience in which we all share, like it or not ... or just make a Sticky Note for your monitor.

Let's get down to business

It seems that the deficit ceiling is replacing the Casey Anthony trial, with Cantor and Boner vs. our leader. Have you ever seen Grown Men behave in this way? And these are our representatives of the peeps. Hey, put 'em in a cage match for cryin' out loud and leave us out of it. If you knew these people in real life, as neighbors or a clique at the local swimming pool, would you have ANYthing to do with them? Who uses Vitalis anymore? As usual, we are forced to ask, what else is going on that we're not hearing about. And suddenly, practically written on the wind, Norway! Last check the death toll is under one hundred, but the figure is growing and will likely be higher by sigh, tomorrow. And speaking of Wetiko wickedness, could care-less-ness, those freak outbursts I mentioned last posting and a few posts before that, are on the increase. The ignorant on the ground, probably illiterate too, due to the fact all of this "toxic waste" is widely available through every expanding format of shining electronic delivery, are bursting loose from the jobless recovery to imitate the very activities dreamed up by "very fine people". Things come and go at breakneck speed, each dive surpassing former dives into deeper and deeper, never before unexplored depths of the raging cesspool of evil. Everything about them flys red flags and nothing happens. They can wear GO OLIGARCHY tie tacks on their pale gold ties and nothing happens. They can publicly scorn each other mere inches away from hand to hand combat with lies and denials and ... nothing happens.

Way down below in the secret cache of an overstressed, oversized, over-produced population where mostly everything has gotten completely out of control because people no longer want to know what is happening around them since their entire lives have become Adventures in Narcissism 24/7, there are horrors and very difficult to describe drastic abuses of the innocent and unaware surfacing for a few hours, a day or two, before the deficit ceiling cage match blows them off the platform. Weird things like the Leiby Kletzy tragedy and the Coronado mansion double murder. When the celebrity pundit reads the teleprompter saying "Why Norway?" do you grimace at her sheer idiocy or weep for the Libyans who on another planet, one with good clouds, would be filling the bellies of the Somalis instead of under hijack at the crazed insistence of the followers of economic nirvana which is not a resilient or even remotely sustainable system... as we are reminded this week after thinking about the far reaching implications in the Archdruid's excellent essay. Even Libya has vanished from the news as if its another ho hum long term occupation in the making and we're to just go shopping or something. Its always unnerving how quickly we have these things analyzed for us since we are too dumbed down now to read the blood on the wall. How long did it take Bush to declare Bin Laden did it? How long did it take CNN to read their prepared statement claiming the little potty or the base is responsible for Norway's attacks? Fifteen minutes? An hour? And, gosh, we haven't even touched on the highly contagious cell hacking disease spreading paranoia and opening wallets across the pond, its not necessary my friends, is it. My only question while admitting I aspire to know nothing because I can't stand to know, its too disgusting, is: Where's the forensics on the guy who lay dead in the portapotty for twelve hours? In't this one like the Coronado mistress found bound and hung from a backyard balcony, in that suicide is often disguised to appear as homicide, they say. Or is that homicide is often disguised to appear as suicide? Gimme a break! We are looking at updated Wellstonings, stories for the stupid, damaged cells dividing and multiplying, exacerbating, exaggerating initial damage.

So I'm with Mick and Vivek. You will have some feelings about those links and I request we stay on subject for this post, if possible, and share them in the comments, again, if possible. If you have something else you have to say, of course that is always welcome, but for this post and those links, we'll need to talk. I've held off publishing them until now because the ubiquitous crescendo of the greedy oligarchs wrapping around the globe and destroying all life on Earth cannot be ignored or denied anymore. I should add that all the evils noted above are taking place as the Earth crumbles in anthropogenic climate chaos which must be something like living it up in an inescapable gated seaside community next door to six nuclear power plants, six months before a super quake and tsunami. In other words, its getting dangerous out there.

You do understand, don't you, its not going away. It only grows, like all living species subject to the variations of Malthusian prophecy, build it and they will come, and keep coming and coming on, until ...

On that dire precipice which appears to have no possible live landing in sight, I leave you with the best line from Vanilla Sky - "Every passing minute is a chance to turn it all around."
Within us is that power.

one mind is a revolution

2011-07-14T19:44:00.000-07:00

It is unconsciously understood by logical people that panic is the least effective response to crisis whether it be creeping-crisis, mid-crisis or post-crisis, panic has nothing to offer and everything to worsen whatever problematic situation affects our human experience in general. Panic is a physical state where the trembling imagination swings into overdrive fantasizing often impossible possibilities all of which magnify the potential for cascading disaster, making whatever is happening into extremes of personal damage especially inclusive of what the term damage represents to the particular individual in crisis. (dam-age, i.e.; capture and block the natural progression of life) If you happen to be standing near someone in panic you will be subject to all the exponential multiples of why you too should join in. If you happen to bear some guilt related to the crisis incident, however minor or drastic, you will understand the contagion of panic and if your mind is on straight, you will note the futility of such behavior and instead do the right thing to resolve whatever is taking place that is causing panic, especially when panic is expressed among a wide variety of people, many of whom have no ability to rise above their fears to see what is actually taking place.

Since the dawn of the governed and governors, forcing panic is the favored tool for control of the slaves. However, panic, torturous and nonproductive, backfires when overused as it has been continuously, now more than ever before thanks to the mass mind whipped into frenzy by masquerading oxymoronic analytic punditry. Think George Anthony, according to his alleged mistress's testimony, in a state of panic after his granddaughter drowns in the family pool, "It was an accident that snowballed out of control." Think of the Orthodox hardware store stocker, who when he heard of the search for missing eight year-old Leibby Kletzy, likely seated quietly waiting for his ride to the Judaic bookstore, panicked and kills him, dismembering the defenseless child body and distributes the pieces in various locations. You have to ask what happened! The logical mind, cool under pressure, aware through multitudes of precarious circumstance, wants to know what would have happened if instead, someone had the wherewithal to do the right thing because on the other side of the moment is another moment, life comes in waves, and the next moment could have brought resolution rather than enlarging the hemorrhaging of panic.

It is helpful to be aware that nearly everything, perhaps all of what we hear coming from anyone who thinks themselves somehow more powerful, more Darwinianly "fit" for survival than ourselves, is inducement to panic. The intent is to have you become a follower, to lean on them for your every need eliminating any positive activities on your part, resulting in a sort of expansion of predatory power to suck you into any agenda that without the element of panic, is an agenda with which you would never have any involvement at all. It is the pressure to panic the populations that has created the very stupid situation the westernized world finds itself inside today. True believers have swallowed it all and refuse to see beyond the immediate. An excellent point made recently by Arthur Silber discussing Stockholm Syndrome was that of whatever relief we are allowed during the induced panic state is generally often viewed as a kindness thus leading us deeper into darker dungeons of torture and cruelty.

Once one achieves a certain level of spiritual development, induced panic has no effect. They might as well put that tool away now because as far as we overstand the national crisis, whatever effects are supposed to occur cannot take place without creating freak outbursts among the population at large that has become helpless and terribly confused so that any positive action that could be taken during the course of panic resolution appears in the imagination as the wrong action since any action at all is punishable by any means from instant penury to permanent social status as pariah/outcast or grossly disturbed mentally deficient to capital punishment by multiple injections of paralyzing chemical compounds. A person succumbed to panic naturally thinks he is damned if he does and damned if he doesn't and then whatever course of action follows rips off the bandages and unravels the stitches of social cohesion, bleeding all over everything making healing very nearly impossible.

I've noticed there are people who are entirely responsible to themselves and in direct contact at all times with the truth that terrorizing them is wasted energy. And certainly there are times when those same people are faced with genuine crisis, but having had experiences and understandings of those experiences unique to themselves, never panic. In other words, once you have died, you no longer fear death. Stated further, once you have allowed yourself to live fully, why would you fear death?

In perhaps the most glaring illustrations yet of how bizarre the governing process has become, these freak outbursts within the ranks tells us all we need to know to move on and leave the jackals quarreling over their kills. They overused the tools and fail to see themselves as berserk and pitiful grappling over spoils. We see them committing career suicides and it means everything to the mass mind, but what does it mean to us? Its supposed to mean TEOTWAWKI, but it does not. Life is everywhere, life is what we make it, peace is where we find it and dwells within us if only we are strong enough to stop handwringing and see it all for what it is. Sometimes, you want to put a hand on their shoulder and say, hey, get a grip there fella, but you don't dare unless you want to face off with snarling monsters in which case, winning with your life intact is definitely not an option.

I agree they make it hard to get there, but it is that difficulty that makes our journey ultimately worthwhile. If you achieve nothing else in this lifetime, to achieve inner peace regardless of predators and their freak offspring, the mass mind, you will have achieved a legacy worth the heartache of having been here.

The morass of legalities, justice and vengeance foisted upon the hapless for the ugly intention described above can be simplified and vastly improved by sticking to one easy rule taken to heart and always intended, Do No Harm. How we could ever get into that headspace now is a truly tedious, mind-numbing complexity that few will take the time to consider or even view as rational thought, except there is no alternative. If we cannot see the harm intended and where it is taking humanity, we will shortly extinct ourselves into oblivion exactly as is happening in real time. It is now more important to terrorize each other than explore the heavens. It has been coming on for ages, our ridiculous, tragic destiny to undermine humanity so that one portion appears to themselves, superior. And you know, it doesn't have to be that way if you, in your own heart, refuse to allow it any room to manifest.

If you are a new reader, it goes without saying you should not be confused between the mass mind and the one mind. There is literally an entire universe of difference.

holy daze

2011-07-05T15:23:00.000-07:00

Rosie 7.5.11

We went nowhere this holiday and did nothing one would call serious work with the exception of my painting and usual chores because going nowhere is the cheapest alternative to going somewhere as well as the safest. Who knows what lurks out there in these times? What costly experience awaits one in the hours to come if we actually put ourselves into one of those public scenes of the sweaty herds squeezed tightly into stadium seats watching whatever circus is playing all the while unaware you may well be the next act? No, the real excitement is at home interacting with the animals whose intelligence continues to awe. A new sheep has been added to the herd, Rosie, the Blue Ewe. She looks very much the Suffolk, but under that blushing cream wool, her coat is black which means black lambs because Amos aka Ram-beau, has fallen in love. Its no wonder, she's quite a classy lady with her skinny black stockings and thick ruff setting off her chiseled cheekbones, although since I've been comparing her closely with the other Ewes, Scarlett and Bella, undeniably classic Suffolks, they all have wonderfully sculptured faces with individual visual treats for the interested observer. Rosie just arrived over the weekend and Monday any celebration was all about her immediate integration with the family. What's more, she was given a new name upon arrival and when I call her to come using "Rosie", she comes right over. She's picked up the whole routine. There is something going on that tells her this is not a brief boarding situation, not a feed lot, this is home.

You already know I can't talk about the animals without mentioning Stella, the Mustang Princess, ever watchful, giving us the love whinny whenever our kitchen door creaks on its hinges, day or night. She and I are at that stage now, the one I've patiently waited to arrive. That stage would be the one Pangolin suggested we go for when the moment was right. We put our heads together trading breaths. Thanks Pangolin. A beautiful and holy experience for which there are no words in our language to describe. A final word on the holiday, perhaps one of the loveliest, indoors, ceiling fans blowing off the outside world of chemtrails and Big Ag's smog snaking through the passes, the dogs were served vanilla ice cream and ice cubes in the water bowl. Some might say what a dull holiday nina, I would say Hey, that's my idea of the good life well lived.

You can see why scheduled posting to a blog on a plastic flip top box takes a back seat. Oh, certainly I put my time in just as you do. Except there is nothing to know. Mind you, I've looked. Sure, there is stuff, hieroglyphics symbolizing spoken tongue, but there really isn't anything going on you don't already know is going on. Its very wicked out there beyond our little enclave of peace and frequent joy. Every time I look across the mountains past the valley, the mushrooms are bigger, more poisonous, and there are more of them. These are not your nice mushrooms, no. Just about everything and everyone is in the process of some kind of melt down, its not pretty nor is it in any way conducive to peace. Perhaps once we are all on the precipice of extinction will we be able to see a vast expanse of absolutely nothing and call it peaceful? As if the full, completed derealization of formerly heavily consuming consumers and imaginary enemies worsened by the unforgiving mass mind might we find freedom with nothing left to buy or pay for, nothing left to fear, never being forced into giving unwilling support to unnatural activity, the vanishing of usury for our very breath of life. That once the entire promise of the corporate mission statement had been fulfilled there would be nowhere else for them to go but to evaporate, the gates of our corrals could open and freedom to live and love, appreciate and steward the Earth as it was always meant to be would happen naturally, season into season... that anxiety and misinterpretation, quarreling within our species, possessing, lying, guilt, petty deceits, perhaps that would simply disappear and we could finally get it on with other planets without the usual self-righteousness, claims staking, false glories and so forth, just as you are you and I am me and there is no difference between us in reality.

A few years ago Visible put up an essay basically asking what we, the reader, planned on bringing to the table during and in the aftermath of Apocalyptic events. This would of course, be the real proof of our pudding. Therefore, it was especially heartening to see some of the residents of Joplin, MO, already rebuilding their homes as the light of dawn arrived to helicams and pundits and tsunami-style destruction. They were not waiting for insurance appraisers nor some political celebrity to tell them they were in a state of emerge and see. They were not spray painting the relocated bathtubs in day glow orange begging for attention. Whatever happened to our species that we insist upon a self-appointed authority figure to tell us what we already know and when they do look to them as the coming of Christ Almighty? That we caved ourselves into mewling accomplices by begging alms? My response to Visible's essay has not changed at all, it never will, the more backwards, incongruous and impossible it becomes, the more intact my root position which is that of exercising the one element that can never be lifted, hijacked or co-opted from the Love Tribe, Nurturing. That's all it is and it IS our saving grace. One cannot nurture anything without pure, unbiased communication with that requiring nurturing. All species and complex vegetable matter must know they are cherished to grow healthy into maturity whether it is us providing direct nurturing or the nurturing they provide one another. This is the essence of the line in the 23rd Psalm, posted recently, Yea though I walk through the Valley of the shadow, our work is cut out for us. A lot of our species, a lot of all species, are getting hit brutally and when this happens, there must be some of us around to heal and explain. Otherwise there would be no point at all to having survived the journey, which is tragically the point we are supposed to accept and I object. To accept is to say nothing has value. Nothing. To accept is to say we are born into consciousness where we flop around until we die.

The Lesson from the Plum Tree:
Last winter one of the Oriental Plum trees appeared lost. The snows weighted his boughs and he fell to the ground where he lay frozen under drifts until spring. The Fireteacher dug him out, I'd tried but needed more bicep, he lifted the scraggly guy out, redug his bed and sprinkled plant food where the tap root would be placed and tamped the Earth over the food and around the base of the tree, tying the trunk to stakes so the tree would stand. That was months ago it seems. I've been watering him delicately, chatting all along, encouraging, smoothing his wounds with my fingertips and over the past two weeks bundles of sweet little leaves suddenly appeared. His spring buds are late, he probably won't do showy flowers this year either, but it matters not at all.

The World Beyond:
With the incredibly beautiful exceptions of those with whom we form mental connection, trust, lifelong love and appreciation, within any and all species, that other world, the World Beyond, is nowhere. A huge meaningless void of false urgency on its way into oblivion. Remember your job, its the only job that is worth doing because there is nothing else. If you can possibly imagine anything more thrilling than living your true purpose, I'd like to hear about it.

A final word on the outcome of the TotMom Debacle, due you of course, since my last two entries centered on crude circus behavior - now that the object of hatred for the mass mind, fundamentally inspired by gnashing pundits themselves twisted by their own wishful thinking, seeking higher and higher ratings and vast acknowledgement of their celebrity appeal, stumbling over one another analyzing every facial tick and supposed legal trick delivered at ear-torturing volume with over zealous beached hair jobs, Korean nails, stark evidence of various youth-preserving cosmetic surgeries and an astounding absence of sensitivity toward their fellows has been found Not Guilty and will NOT be lethally injected, law enforcement has roadblocked entry into the family's suburban Orlando neighborhood, obviously the mass mind is clamoring excitedly for a little Strange Fruit. But who are they angry with now? Can it be they are suddenly left lacking an object of hatred, can it be they will now have to look to themselves and the absurd situations in which they exist, unemployed and underwater, facing diminishing resources and expiring incomes, empty dreams and giant metal pods sitting on dehydrating front lawns jammed to the gills with stuff they have no use for now and never did? Oh, of course not...
Someone ought to figure out how to harness all that wasted energy.

Meal tickets under glass

2011-06-16T11:45:00.000-07:00

The circus continues. What was not said here and that which was hinted the first time around are grotesquely obvious now. The death penalty pundits make the political pundits look tame, tamed by their corporate masters rather like seals on skirted pedestals from one of many rings in which monstrous acts take place every day and every night under the Big Top until there is no memory of a beginning or any end in sight. MSM prime time punditry would be fired for behaving as outrageously as the dagger death pundits, the couch potato noodle noosers bonbon-ing their ways into stampede wearing flip flops and halter tops, hair rollers and the ever present shopping bags overflowing with cameras, thumb twittering cell phones, awaiting their moment of a lifetime on youtube to imbed into the empty echos of their social networking sites. Like? One hundred and fifty million people liked this. These particular pundits are insatiable and demanding, where's my panel? As the screen breaks up into squares of faces all speaking at once which means they have to yell in order to hear themselves as they are overridden by each others caterwauling. I was hoping Bose earphones would sponsor this event, you know, those phones suggested to be worn in the presence of heavy machinery such as aircraft interiors. Bose shows themselves to have somewhat more selective marketing moderation than underwrite death penalty pundits which are actually sponsored exhaustively by that shrill automotive insurance actress delivering her monologues as if she was in the front row at a Stones concert selling deep fried pretzels and pork rinds.

One of the events, many in fact, centered around the vivid technological displays of human decomposition by, heh, decomposition experts. Who knew such gigs exist? The crowds went gaga, you could hear the saliva quicken for the drools, quickly hidden by all manner of wipes. The cries of disgust, the puking, things never before imagined in the actual slide shows of horror beyond all previous horrors as bone after bone was displayed accompanied by the imagined gnashing of animals chewing and dragging the toddler's torso through forested overgrowth. So what I thought. What did they think happens to the body in death anyway? They think it must be pumped with formaldehyde, painted and hair-styled to look alive, gussied up in formal attire, rosy cheeked and merely asleep, sealed in an airtight gilded plastic and metal box six feet under the topsoil and guarded by armed security. The point being there is big, big money in an industry to keep your true self cosmopolitaned for eternity and the circus audience stamps and screams in mass nausea if somehow one is revealed to have been flesh and blood all along, under all the frills and pretense, under the facade of the magazine mannequin, an unblemished, idealized product of the demographically targeted corporate consumer ... "Why God forbid! Such a disturbance in thought is sheer blasphemy!" Like? Two hundred and sixty seven million people do not like this suggestive dialogue.

We've been all over that issue before, haven't we. More times than I recall, here and at Su's, anywhere we have the opportunity to spread the word, the death industry is solitary incarceration extreme guaranteeing two thousand or so years from now you'll be dug up and showcased under glass in a natural history museum. "Isn't he well preserved! He looks so, so alive. Beautiful work, taxidermists were real craftsmen then." It all reminds me of people who have Elk heads on their wall, lacquered fish glued on plaques over the fireplace, the prized and princely testosterone den decor forevermore outdone, one upped by Jibbertongue Rumsfeld and his piece of a 911 airliner displayed on his former office of special plans wall. A souvenir. Perhaps it, like all of it, was just another high tech hologram. Like? Two hundred and ninety one million crazy baldheads do not think like this and will stamp their feet and screech at you for such wicked speech. Why, they'll probably have a trial in the main ring complete with the prosecution's selection of experts yukking it up in their fifteen minutes of face time on TV, yeah! TV. You are no one, you know, in this lonely beleaguered, hardass shell of a civilization unless you are on TV. It doesn't matter if you are selling insurance or pork rinds, expertly analyzing computer generated news with your computer generated peers squeezed evermore tightly in between the headline banners, any airtime will do. Of course, they have rules. The most sought after quality in addition to being fully integrated with your representative self so that the representative self is always in complete control, is high ratings appeal. You'll note that the two most desirable qualities are actually one pure, homogenized quality unadulterated with any experience that cannot be easily explained. There are no "ifs", no guesswork in questioning the possibility of something larger than can't be covered between trips to the pork rind bag and cerveza cooler.

In the trial, to date, still the question of a father for the toddler remains unasked and unmentioned. This is a first, and how it is left to the unknown unmentioned is an amazing mystery, although, some dire and distant message comes through regardless and that would be, of course, the possibility in vitro fertilization at some point will be the future's sole legally controlled method for producing new generations of replacement representative selves. In a throwback to early technology, designer DNA will be the cultural norm, children born never knowing what came before, true products of the moment, pudgy, steamrolled, cookie-cut and pundit-like in discourtesy, quick to condemn, always in control of themselves and their bleak surroundings seen as delightful, amusing, progressive, evidence of perfection everywhere because they can not possibly ever know what they like and don't like, in praise, always kneeling before the altars of quack dogma, the Big Top drawing in whole manufactured families to stare in awe at roadkill in sideshows unburdening them of their doubts.

There is nothing we think or do that someone somewhere can't figure out how to eek out a living off of you and in doing so, laws attempting to refunnel the cash flow are designed, voted and approved. Legal or illegal. There is also nothing that anyone anywhere does that cannot be defined by its opposite intention depending on the approval ratings within a culture.

It helps to understand these times in general by thinking about what isn't being presented and less about what is. What drives the desires of entertainment seekers and what drives you. While it may seem much like Shirley Jackson's short story, The Lottery, where the villagers drew lots to see who would be the annual stoning victim, it is only slightly more complicated being that approval ratings change as the situation worsens. Ratings attempt to create a sense of growth and prosperity just around the corner in spite of the hopelessness of their tattered Big Tops and rigged sideshows of the fallen, shredded by the stampeding crowds lusting to be something more than a social networking wall, forever locked into the impression of free will and miraculously, never attending to the slightest concern they are the meal ticket du jour.


Granville Redmond, Malibu Coast Spring, c. 1929

... The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Lighting the Pyre: a portrait in child abuse

2011-06-03T16:11:00.000-07:00

A rather perfect metaphor for the state of our new national lifestyle happens to be playing out at this very moment under the noses of one of the largest gatherings of tabloidiers in America's favorite conference city, Orlando. Yes, its the sad, sorry show trial of "Tot Mom", Casey Anthony. Since the OJ freeway chase, these trials have become commercially sponsored circuses where every irrelevant detail is allowed a full day, often weeks, in sideshows where everyone who is someone presses or is pressured repeatedly to resolve actually nothing. It seems in this latest Orlando tent revival encircled with news caravans swaying to the chorus of death penalty, cold blooded monster, spiteful bitch, etc, nowhere is there mention of a father for the dead child. You'll have to think about that one, and when you do, it will remind you of a swirling Twilight Zone vortex sucking you far, far down the rabbit hole into long and winding secret tunnels, each of them detours and cul de sacs lined with casinos, choir boys, Super 8's and fast food chains. Mind you, I pay attention to this trial reluctantly. Our old friend Pirate Rick once said about these things, its like trying not to look at a horrible car accident... as you inch by in first gear under direction from the highway patrol.

Ahem, cough cough, and how is that different from the general state of affairs?

This Tot Mom story is interesting because the seriously damaged defendant on trial for murder simply cannot speak truthfully on any issue at all. That she cannot tell the truth about ANYthing, many unrelated or very much related witnesses on the stand can lie and walk free since next to Tot Mom, everyone else testifying appears innocent and is excused from guilt. If you have a chance to see this girl in action what you are seeing is an extraordinarily advanced product of civilization in disaster, a modern day dysfunctional family up to their eyeballs in abuse. The upbringing of such a defendant becomes obvious as the storyline continues to guarantee further depletion of Floridian taxpayers pockets. I give this one months in the oven and even then nothing about the story is obvious for the obvious here is what is brazenly ignored in favor of execution. It is this summer's Coliseum act. Glancing at the MSM sites tells us it is a ratings smash. You have to imagine there are more than a few swaps riding on the verdict.

Let's see, if you were beaten to a pulp as a child you would soon learn to lie about whatever it was that caused the beatings. Let's say the infractions were always minor, like not making your bed or keeping your drawers neat enough, and let's say it made no difference, minor infractions were treated as serious criminal offense each and every time without regard to degree of the offense, eventually a child adapts themselves for survival by distorting any truth in order to escape punishment. Now, imagine both parents of such a child never spoke truthfully either, that every word was a denial of responsibility through subterfuge and little coalitions agreeing with one another's fabrications on every single issue that came along, even that of being fully unable to cancel an appointment without spinning a web of transparent and complicated whoppers. Remarkably, this upside down and backwards family receives the kiss of lily whiteness while Tot Mom becomes further separated from the world of the living. And yet, nothing to date has come up that in any way resembles truth. It is as if the jury is deaf and blind and the prosecution's vampire fangs drip blood on the industrial carpet of modern justice's architectural flooring. This event is of course only one of many more to come as technology partners with the global economy to stay high on the Forbes list with all the extreme and previously unimaginable tortures reducing world population to a more manageable size and expense, simultaneously producing glowing quarterly growth reports.

One item of note in this bloodthirsty carnival that evades discussion concerns the father of the dead toddler. Um, where is he? Who is he? Why is he never mentioned? Its a simple question, isn't it. Perhaps something was said before I looked behind the pulpit? Its possible, in fact you may wonder how I could be posting about this trial at all. No problem, the Fireteacher is the TV guy here, I pass through the room where he watches hundreds of times a day in my position as friend doing my chores of support, and whatever is blaring on the box meets my ears, like it or not, if anything it stimulates the aura of ambient anguish. One could fall into compete spiritual fulfillment without the grinding vocals of analysts analyzing computer generated news because the Internet killed the physical papers and they had to make up the loss keyboarding in ones and zeros like everybody else if they were going to keep up appearances as vitally important to global economic growth in transition. (Cough, cough, must be getting a cold ...) The longer the Apocalypse stretches out, the more variations of dysfunction come into the spotlight. The more absurd the circus acts, drunken, oxycodoned, opiated and chloroformed to both seller and buyer, the more fantastic these distortions of reality become and there my friends, lies our true growth as a species, giving willing and gutturally brazen acceptance to Orwellian mass hatred by the numbers and again, it appears a smash.

Yesterday morning as I was leashing little Bernie for his stroll, the squawk box attached to a satellite network was trembling with cartoon lightening zig zags concerning a controversy between political analysts having to do with a few states' new plan to drug test food stamp recipients. Maybe they should take a poll among the African Americans in Oakland to see how well that might work out as a clever cost cutting measure to trim the deficit? And, btw, can anyone tell me what we are doing in Afghanistan?

There was a time not too long ago, black gold was all the talk, but no more. Its got lots of company as the land melts away under mining wastewater and radiation encircles the globe, this must be what it is like to smother slowly inside a bank vault.

Back to the trial, children are sponges, they take on their parents patterns helped along with more advanced patterns of the same behaviors as they mature and observe. Try to keep that in mind when you run into denial. Denial is not a genetic trait, it is a learned self-preservation strategy. Ideally, humans should not be forced to deny anything, but as technology advances, lies become ubiquitous because every aspect of the greater denial is charted for approval and receiving high marks for complete, multi-tiered, tinseled fabrications such as the recent resurrection of Osama. High approval ratings equate to big investments which benefits ... oh, guess who.

Tot Mom's entire family is hiding a horrible secret. So noxious is the truth behind this story, they are willing to crucify each other on the stand before revealing anything even hinting at this secret which of course, they are sworn to do under oath. Since 2008, they've continued the charade of forthright honesty all the while building walls of deceit to protect that which they are loathe to utter and yet, having lost a granddaughter, the life of their only daughter/sister is thrown under the bus to protect their magazine image, their collective representative-selves, rather than see the remainder of their days on Earth tarnished with the ugly stain of perversion and abuse. No doubt the truth will come out one day, but possibly not in time to save Casey from execution. It is a shame to watch these characters portray the drama mirrored daily in political life, the corporatocracy and its filthy policies, foreign and otherwise, which regularly throw entire populations under the bus as well. Post traumatic shock, dysfunctional leadership and the abuses they perpetrate always make a delicate situation worse with after-effects trickling down wherever exists the path of least resistance - among the innocent, the unaware, the suffering, denied the God-given right to flower into maturity, instead forced to shrivel under the boot. What we find ultimately repulsive are the crowds pointing and shouting blame while possessing no insight into how these situations come to pass or what they portend for our shared futures.

Update: As I ready this post for publication, the trial pundits seem to have taken a new twist, CNN is actually arguing over Tot Mom as traumatized victim of sexual abuse by her solid citizen father, former police officer, but will it stick or be shouted down by the hungry crowds thrilling to the circus? We might know by the time the next "giving" season rolls around - or not. A this point, it would not be out of the ballpark to say this particular circus has real potential for indefinite repeats as the subjects under examination take the broken middle class off the pages of human history forever.

Two worlds ... One love

2011-05-20T00:12:00.000-07:00

Anybody can be the bad guy. The gene exists in all of us, the trick is to remain aware of your surroundings and the people with whom you are dealing. Check yourself and live up to the spirituality you profess to possess. Keep giving and when that doesn't go over, give more. There is no limit to your love and how much you can spare. The multiples of recent events in human behavior show us how completely love is rejected because that part, the most perfect part of mankind, is ruthlessly promoted as terror meaning terrifying to the perpetrators and the terrifying consequences lying in wait for their victims. One day, you're ridin' high in the saddle, it appears as if all is under your control and nothing will ever happen to upend that picture, the next, you can find yourself homeless or incarcerated, lost in the maze of just-us, wondering what happened. As the years pass in your new state, since you lately have hours and months, whole seasons, even years to spend looking into the situation, the answer will come and it was probably as forgivable as a brief gap in your awareness of presence.

In the new world we now occupy, mostly as unwilling witness, its always about the money, which is what Lucifer is to Jehovah. And while the money pits grow higher, the fear of loss of fortune grows in parallel like a fungus on an Oak limb, at some point, in the carelessness of riding so high, loss is inevitable. This leaves open the question of where all that money goes. At last look, it isn't going into anything related to love. The money, which was the point all along, is far more than currency. It is position, power, influence, the ability to create and destroy at will and all the people who haven't figured that out, who like to think its about gross materialism, have no clue. Money is the greatest and most deadly weapon of mass destruction known to the Universe. Money's first and last priority is to destroy love and it is extremely successful in its endeavors to do so.

For many of us reading here, these were foreign thoughts not too long ago. We led our innocent lives unaware Lucifer was on track to take over humanity. As you now know there is no palm left ungreased, eight lane parades of grasping fingers await our every action or non-action and there is nothing to be done about it except remove yourself from the insanity even if means you failed in your attempt to give. Money is almost impossible to move. It is granite, without emotional content other than fear and false desire, there are many people and places that will never see it our way and we have to accept that. But that in no way means we stop giving. Not until fortunes are lost repeatedly does one begin any sort of healing process and there is no guarantee the healing process will be seen through to its fruition. That is just another part of possessing too much of it, the memory will press many into corrupting compromise which will strain credulity to the breaking point. In time, healing comes and it may not come until catastrophe brings it around. At least you will have left the peace of your person behind when an example is required which is all the more reason to give more, love more, wherever the opportunity exists.

We cannot forget the picture of the stunned Japanese official weeping because he'd shown more respect to his working life than to his lost loved ones.

We live in two worlds, two zeitgeists simultaneously, that of the illusion and that of our own. Every single day the illusion projects its force upon us and every single day we reconcile the damage done while living in love. This is why there is nothing to be done about it, it is with us by design and to be overcome in this lifetime. It appears that the most evil of our species has the capacity to overcome, but until their own personal moment of reconciliation presents itself, you will have no impact. Love and compassion can be nurtured in children, but adults are too hardened to the punishments created by the illusion's perception of love as immaterial and foolish bordering on amusing but stupid. We are incessantly pushed to join up with behaviors we would never naturally agree. The illusion has managed to billow out over our species to steal our sweat labor and destroy our minds. It dangles lies in our faces and tempts with come-ons which are mere water on a duck's back for the true believer. These two worlds cannot possibly meet in the present. Protests are met with violence, sudden legal entanglements which place you directly in the center of their microscope where anything you cherished is taken and divided among themselves while you try to meditate in solitary confinement. You do understand, this is no "game". The illusion takes itself very seriously and yet, I am reminded of Fyodor Dostoevsky who wrote circa 1880, that there would be no need for a justice system if everyone believed in God.

I take that to mean the God within who prevents us from criminal behavior and keeps us living in love, giving and caring, this God lives in everyone naturally if they allow it. But a system of flexible do's and don't's backed up with bloodletting, violence, massive destruction and evil incarnate is a masterful generator of wealth, power and influence and was developed over the centuries by madmen and women of monarchy obligated only to the empire of religious dogma, some of them very ill, mentally unstable, paranoid, inbreds, whose behaviors were emulated by the weak-willed acquiescent having lost any sense of reality through close proximity to treasure. And the world of the illusion grew legs and arms and fangs.

What they missed and miss still is incalculable. The loss is a loss difficult to encompass in its totality unless you can feel compassion for their misery in spite of all the damage done and to come. First, you have to wipe clean your hearts and minds of revenge for revenge (just-us) is not a natural state of being. Accept the powerlessness of the situation and know your power within is infinite. Even if you think its not there, it is there because you thought about it.

this wire fencing

Take every chance that comes your way to involve yourself with our world. Recently I commented about the sheep escapes and poor ewe Bella, new mom, getting her head caught in the wire fencing. She'd worked through one of the openings, stretching the wire around her neck to get grass beyond the pen and was stuck, bellowing in pain. I realized in the emergency no one else was around or would be for many hours. There was no choice, no thought, but to pull apart the wire with my fingers and squeeze her back inside. And it worked. Whew! She was very grateful, following me around, letting me know how good she felt someone was there to help. I massaged her neck for a good while and chatted about her foible, but the truth was I felt good too. I was grateful to her, for her trust in what I was doing, at some points during the rescue I know my fingers made the noose feel even tighter, but all turned out well which leads me to the next event.

Buffalo in wool

It was announced the pen would be moving across the wash back up on the hill. I made it known any fence work would require my presence since I was the expert now in group safety. The next day I worked my freekin' ass off like never before, taking down the posts, baling the wire, hiking it all across the Amazon Jungle-style wash (deep, winding rainwater trench, high potential for rattlers) and up the hill, surveying the new parameters, slamming the post pounder and securing the wire to the posts with a needlenose. The amazing part was keeping Amos the Ram separated from the females, not an easy feat since I've nicknamed him Buffalo. Right away, Laurie put up a temporary gated holding pen, a "catch pen", which we used to divide them, the gate led to the pasture, which Amos was baited into.

In jackets, on a chilly spring day, with my friend who has a Master's in Ag Science which means I had an amazing running commentary on the keeping of livestock. (Did you know that sheep have four stomach chambers and that is why you will never see one lying on its side? When they sit, its always up, like the Sphinx.) So there we were, two human ewes, two days living in the best part of the history of humanity. It felt so good. The sheep eat the long grasses which is fire fuel, if you don't mow, get some grazers whom you will nurture and they will give you back your life or if you think you never had one, show you what life is really all about in more ways than I have space to list here.

It does not further one to cross the water

2011-05-02T14:18:00.000-07:00

We have a few new links brought to us from Charles in the Free Never Overdue Library over there on the left, please take some time to digest them. A big Thank You to Charles.

So now, it looks like we'll be leaving the Middle East having accomplished the stated objective. Perhaps this objective is included in the Status of Forces agreement with Iraq, and perhaps there never was a SOFA at all. And certainly, we can expect what is left of our weary troops to come home from Afghanistan, right, with their bodies and minds intact since PTSD will soon be a fading footnote in the Diagnostics Manual. And we'll have no more terror talk and idiots on planes doing weird things with their underwear and shoes, so TSA will be furloughing the gropers, right? Did Saddam even know Obama, I mean Osama? One thing is for sure, there will be no more fake Osama videos. Whew. Can Nick Berg come home now? There is one burning question we all need to ask at this time given all the bs that has taken over our lovely planet and that would be Did they hate us for our bank robbers? Heh, you bet cuz the robber barons know nothing of sovereignty.

Writing the blog today is a lot like the end of the year high school yearbook signing fest where everyone tries to nutshell what took place and how much their friendships kept them mentally stable during those times. Your closest friends were allowed to take up a whole page, the more full page memories you collected, the more popular you were. Since popularity is definitely not the objective here, we won't go into all the misery and mischief that has gone down since the towers blew, you are living through the aftermath already. You want to scream, fine by me. You want to cry too? Have a tissue.

If ever you are going to deliberately lie, you need to have an ironclad alibi without holes otherwise someone will figure it out. The problem we are looking at today is lies were told, so many that the liars lost track, got cocky and left gaping craters which immediately were filled by willing loyalists who only created greater caverns of disbelief continuing to remind the victim/shil/mark/you that the string of nonsense produced was just that, nonsense, especially as people were labeled with nonsense terms such as nine eleven enthusiasts, a rather nasty swipe reminiscent of much older ones, nigger lover and close kin to injun lover, updated today to tree hugger, peacenik, pothead and doomer. My friends, have we any skin left that has not been burned, stung, smarting still as loss grows exponentially into greater and greater loss? We stand naked before it, the united federal lying machine, an entity with one sole intention which is to erase anyone who does not go along with the program and worse, anyone who is unable, especially for all the reasons created to keep us never, ever examining holes, buy into the program. What can sweatshop slaves buy into anyway?

We want to ask, hey, what happened? All THAT for what?

I'm fond of Stephen Crane's short story The Open Boat written during an especially dark literary period termed Modernism and published in 1898. You should read it through and if you do, you will remember it for the remainder of your days. It is brief and appropriate for these times:
..."If I am going to be drowned--if I am going to be drowned--if I am going to be drowned, why, in the name of the seven mad gods who rule the sea, was I allowed to come thus far and contemplate sand and trees?"...
In other words, and you will be doing that all the way through this timeless work and again as it reinforces itself repeatedly in human interactions: have we come so far, suffered so deeply, loved so dearly, endured torture and needless oppression beyond all reason, all for nothing?... What plan? June 2010 archives

Yes, we're back bobbing on the waves in sight of land we'll never reach in Stephen Crane's The Open Boat, we came so far, suffered so deeply, loved so dearly, endured and lost so much ... all for THIS? More than a freekin' decade of that and now this? Get real! Such horrors we would not wish upon our worst enemy, if we had any enemies. We do however, have deviants among us that do wish such things, painstakingly plan and live for the moment to carry them out. Here is your news sir, the lie is over, I am sorry for you because you have no reason any longer to thrive in your deviation. We have instead a series of real life disasters taking place in front of our very eyes and now you must redirect your attentions which means many of you will have nothing to do at all since solving the problems of the suffering is not part of the personal makeup of your representative-selves of whom you are held hijack. You will have gazillionz of trillions coming in now to fix our little oil dilemma, hopefully you will not pretend you misspoke about hologram Osama's instant sea splash and keep kicking the resource rich nations in the groin, assassinating their children, their blood seed, running the old regime change hustle on sovereign peoples, dragging NATO along where it was not officially empowered to assist. We can hope, but you will do what you will do. That is who you are.

You are known by what you do.

The supposed death of the supposed cult leader will change nothing except to further reveal the extent of the disruptive and diversionary psychosis that grips westerners. This latest has everything to do with keeping afloat multilayered fabrications designed to bestow personhood on the global sucking vampires who are not persons at all. They must at all costs keep their failing Ken doll twirling in his executive swivel chair rather than let some over-rich, balding, Chateaubrianded version of Rev. Terry Jones as a rug-headed TV personality realign the people's perceptions yet again. Further, they absolutely require the gods of hyper-jibberish to continue waxing on the hallelujah recovery in order for all of us to reawaken our diminished senses of need and gas it over to the nearest Wal*Mart to consume nonstop at the nonsense trough.

For an interesting mental exercise, imagine the amount of advance coordinated planning that went into gathering thousands of fresh-faced subteens together in front of the cameras, all of whom strangely appeared at first glance to be celebrating Mardi Gras, gushing in glee over the news the old evil hologram met his demise, much the same as if Sukie, the waitress fairy, put an end once and for all to the True Blood leeches.

Now imagine this: The time came the slaves no longer needed the whip for they knew their place well and knew there would be no escape for the remainder of their miserable days on Earth.

So much tragedy barely holding together a weakened, beaten, downgraded infrastructure and disgruntled populace. We could have skipped it entirely and just gotten down to work. Think of what beneficent wonders could have been accomplished during a whole decade had it not been for the neoCons' deathmatch journey into Nevernever Land. Instead, we could be this very day supporting something such as a global Earth-friendly volunteer association open to every nation, developing and otherwise, for sharing resources while simultaneously cooperating with all educational and scientific institutions in discovery and implementation of sustainable systems for poison free agriculture and healthy alternatives to factory farming and slaughter of livestock, realistically addressing the limits of the planet as finite and dealing humanely with overpopulation through multitudes of small and local enlightenment programs which include safe and freely distributed birth control.

We will not be participating in anything remotely as necessary as you can plainly see since baldfaced lying is still perceived as the only way to advance the insatiable hunger of imperialism, which in itself is nothing but covetous, outright theft when you lift away the altruistic veil. A veil which you may have noticed, isn't fooling any of the victim/shil/sufferers/you or me or anybody, anywhere. Thus we get this shabby little Osama story thrown at us interspersed with hundreds of other shabby little stories as if the dumbdown stage was just one of many checklist missions accomplished.

Truly, it makes you wonder what pact with the devil was made to get that which was perceived as so necessary.

Thus, we continue on the treadmill of zero resolution while repeating all the same tired mistakes which brought us to this point of collapse. Abusing Nature and her creations, rampant, heedlessly warring wherever the natural inhabitant species have been intentionally weakened over time, dispossessed and disoriented. We will go on as we are, awakening each day to incessant distortions and deformities of species behavior, including that of the human species, corralled and broken down into levels of useful servitude or slaughter, and all of it for one disgusting, egregious reason, that no thinking person discover the truth behind the greatest and greediest lies since all of recorded history. This is why there will be no repair, the damage done and damage to come is too great. When something this severe occurs, you must go back to the beginning and start anew, something which will never be considered in the program since what we are talking about is comedy for the annual Correspondents Dinner.

Centuries ago when the idea for this experiment towards a better life was undertaken, how many signed on to get away from exactly that which continues unabated and exaggerated today? It does not further one to cross the waters because the same and worse exists on the other side. There is only one safe haven and it is not here, it will only appear before you when the time is right.

How can the time possibly be right today while we measure radiation clouds and the Gulf floor steadily, irreparably, seeps dark, deadly grease destroying any possibility of renewal? Have they yet tasted corexit in Niger?

More on the subject, and don't miss the comments:

Exit the Excuse ... But Elites Insist Their Wars Must Go On

OSAMA BIN LADEN

And my favorite new phrase: Managed Perception. Wow, that's just like managed care or debt management or anger management. Everything must be managed now, you know. Otherwise, things might take their natural course and that is hmmmm, extremely dangerous.

When Does "Managed Perception" Become Reality? Note that Charles never mentions Osama, but he doesn't have to. All of it is related as our frequent readers know only too well.

Atlantis off the starboard bow

2011-04-25T14:09:00.000-07:00

Sometimes we miss important things because we are shown something else. Now, that something else has validity too, or we wouldn't be pointed in that direction, the best action being to look everywhere and ye shall find - that is if you are interested in finding. I'm not talking intentional diversion here, I am speaking of trusted sources that want us to know what they are thinking about a situation. As always, we, the readers, are expected to make of it what we will. We've seen a lot of worthy sources slammed and you know, anything positive can be argued to its negative if you happen to be arguing truths with a good con, a better con than yourself. Me, I don't take cons well, I don't know enough about anything to be good at debating the opposite side from which I stand which means I will fiercely defend the side on which I stand. A case in point would be a site I visited until recently, recently because I've since removed any reference to him, where the author took it upon himself to point out rudely why the views belonging to a noted member in good standing with our little love community here were flawed. This pissed me off no end because it was a con job in action revealing that the con artist had never taken the time to examine our friend's views in their entirety as well as revealing the con artist's motive which was to make himself appear all knowing, all seeing which to the best of my knowledge are not exactly human traits. "Out of context" hearsay does not make a case. Another example that comes to mind is one friend with some literary weight slamming another friend's blog, a tome of nothing but hard truth on the basis that the author was a heh, spook, like who cares? If spooks are telling truths, sign me up. Whenever I run into these things, its hurts me, saddens me, to see that so many forget what we are doing here at all. Now here we are on a new post today and I'm planning on using a few links for a little more in-depth analysis and I want to make it clear, please read them with your own interpretations. Put aside hearsay and pay attention to the content. That is all I ask, make up your mind about the content under discussion for yourself. Perhaps it is best to let go forming any opinions at all and just digest the material. After you do that long enough, an opinion will come about on its own and it will be all your's, no one else's. And once you have opinions based solely on your own interpretation, you will have something fairly close to the truth. It almost doesn't matter where the information comes from as long as you've taken in a broad spectrum so that a bigger picture emerges.

Here is a typically large batch of binary numbers representing a terrible truth from a source that is somewhat questionable only because they do not, for the most part, pass the famous Wikileaks litmus test. Yet, I go there anyway and very often find something worthwhile in the mix, which today is this essay by Hirose Takashi. It is translated from Japanese and a little sketchy at first, but the message is completely clear. I liken all of us busy or not so busy human beings doing whatever we do, however we do it, to life in the final days of Atlantis. In doing so and seeing ourselves as compassionate people, can you put yourself in the shoes (gaeta) of the Japanese? Try it. Imagination is integral to compassion. Feel it? There they are, living inside the bizarre circumstance of globalism along with the rest of the developed nations and doing the best they can, as we do, with the little they have, as we do, going about the business of ordinary life, as we do, until one normal evening suddenly everything not sucked into the giant washing machine of the homicidal tsunami went up in radioactive steam. For real, my friends, as the evacuation zone widens, more and more human beings are getting the word, you can never go home again. Worse, this condition is growing exponentially as the Pacific Plate refuses to settle down and the globe is dotted with egregious cauldrons of death. Adaptation to instant annihilation is a state of existence we need to explore and grow comfortable with since there is little doubt it will happen, at anytime, anywhere, which includes it happening to every one of us. This state of existence presently binds most of the Japanese population, whether its on the schmooze or not. In fact, when it is not stated or understated, it is deliberate because in the event all the innocent and trusting simple folk get the idea they've been super-conned, who knows what could happen? A lot more people know subliminally what is going on than we realize, be assured the deniers have made a pact with themselves not to think about it. It doesn't exist. Nuclear energy is the way of the future. That much IS true since in the future entire continents will be uninhabitable.

We are already bumping up hard against what is coming, its too obvious for the outspoken among us to stay silent for long. We are seeing the death of species, the land, the oceans, its too much to destroy all at once, and too hardy while seemingly delicate. Life is fragile after all. Without an Earth-sized asteroid crashing into our planet taking everything out at once, the hit and run style we are witnessing commits its own suicide, here, over there, in front of you and behind you. It is a miracle you have been spared to this moment. But will you be spared in the next? If we look too long, or dwell on impending and current disasters too often, are we setting our own table for disaster? No, when we look as long as we feel is necessary, we invite compassion into our hearts regardless of what may or may not happen to us.

Meanwhile, the mighty shuck and jive train keeps a rollin' as if Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun will come out tomorrow, its only a day away. Lots of money and a purchased judiciary make fine insulators from fate, temporarily I might add. Holograms, stunt men and tinseltown special FX don't have feelings or intelligence. You can, in your hour of need, like now, just tune it all out. Oh indeed, you have that magical ability unless you are being gang-raped in the hoosegow while under interrogation from hired mercenaries. Sometimes it appears our masters of the Universe would like us to feel sorry for them and sympathize with their shameful platter of impossibly difficult decisions. And certainly, it must be a hard thing to save the people, keep everyone calm, satisfy their needs, feed the hungry, the poor, if that was actually the case except its not. The Judas' shortcuts are too easy and convenience IS the hallmark of western democracies. These so-called democracies are the exact opposite of true democracy, which we could have had and will not live to see. We could have been great, we could have done it right, we could have had peace on Earth and good will instead we exist in a flimsy multi-generational toxic bubble readying to burst.

If you have ever seen some of the Discovery Channel documentaries on how life began you would be awed that we turned out in the forms we did. We could have taken any form, or shape, we could have had two heads for example although Nature is not random, Nature is too efficient knowing two heads would spend a lifetime trying to kill each other for sole control over the one body. Evolution an interesting concept to dwell on while you are struggling to keep your one head above water, what a silly little world we have made to play on, how cleverly ergonomic we are with our digitized hands built for survival the same way Mountain Goats' hoofs work for their survival and birds/insects wings allow them to fly to nutrition atop the tallest trees, but those fingers of mankind are useful for molding weaponry, pulling triggers, yanking the joystick, slaughtering whole families and thumb texting, overdeveloping and then calling in the wrecking ball, rather like building little communities with those tiny German toy blocks in the mesh bag complete with farm animals, schools, work buildings and clock towers. It was fun, wasn't it, until somebody came along and jackbooted it all sky high. Well, it wasn't permanent anyway, nothing is, with the exception of course, being love.

There is a remarkable Oak up in the mountains where we live, it has grown itself around an old stag, a former Oak, now a Woodpeckers' acorn bank. I previously posted it uncropped when the emphasis was on the newborn Lambs. Only lately have I stood under it to figure out just exactly what happened there. The whole ensemble stands as living proof that Nature has a will of its own, and yet the ignorance and lust of humans in this tawdry epoch never gave it the credence it deserves and now it is too late. This is no longer a matter of revolution against tyrants or undergoing a revolution within ourselves. Mankind has no power over the Tectonic plates. And, hey, while we're at it, tell me what power mankind has over the sea? As a longtime sailor I can tell you what we used to tell ourselves in dread weather, no land in sight, radio broken, lost in uncharted territory, down to half cup of water per day, dreaming I was on land and waking to see sunlight pouring in the hatch above my bunk knowing the dream was a brief escape from the living nightmare, you can survive the sea, but you can never master it. Which is very much the same place we find ourselves today, on or off land, wherever you happen to be. You might survive disaster, but you can never control it. Interpret that any way you want interspersing any conditions lying in the minefield of these times.

I recommend seeing a beautiful Mongolian documentary, The Weeping Camel. You can watch it in full at the site. Leaving our roots behind and following along with the nonsense of unlimited growth and progress while warring against those who do not participate, is just one, but likely the dominate fault causing our demise. The truth is we're not good enough to deserve this planet. We didn't love it enough, and now we are losing it.
Sayonara

Oaks and Lamb photograph, c. 2011 Deep into Artlife West
Weeping Camels Photograph by Juliane/nationalgeographic.com

darkness before the dawn

2011-04-13T22:05:00.000-07:00

There used to be an amusement park ride called the Mad Mouse. There were bright colored two person mouse cars, someone belted in front and someone belted in back, on a roller coaster-style track, high up, sliding waaay down, the whole experience at breakneck speed. The Apocalypse kind of reminds me of this ride. We paid with our lives and we can't get off once it's started. This ride will jerk you around, take you to the top and dump you on a downhill race to the bottom only to careen sideways into a detour where the track abruptly ends, you back up and then you're gone again, faster, higher, twirling into a downward spiral, slamming into another detour, yanking back suddenly to the main track and so forth. It made a lot of people sick and sometimes pretty angry. I didn't really care for it either and went once to see what all the shouting was about and again, to confirm it was as bad as I remembered.

We are in a little lull right now, while one Apocalyptic disaster unfolds planet wide another is brewing, poised to shrink Fukushima as we exhaust ourselves racing ahead of simultaneous eruptions, i.e.; the crises of corruptions gone wrong, miscalculated, underestimated, excused, weakly justified, but lucrative and layered with complex levels of extreme profit. I am shell shocked, not about anything you would assume, but about the stunning, spectacular, overwhelming stupidity and lack of foresight which has created a world of in your face greeeeeeeeed. The hypocrisy knows no bounds and Iran has a lot of oil.

Who in their right mind celebrates the 150 year anniversary of the Civil War for example? Oh, yes, let's make a parade, bring on the fireworks, let's tear down the drapes and make velvet frocks with corsets laced tightly by our beaten, whipped, raped and Stockholm syndromed human possessions and then let's drink the fruited wines they made us and lie in rows upon the railroad tracks of ancient Terminus, now a gentrified shopping mall turned tourist attraction. A century and a half after the ugly facts, we come to find the same Wetikos hangin' round, still, working the same old stories of hate and paranoia. Its all too much for the love people, I can't imagine how the rest of you are handling the latest developments. I can barely open the plastic box anymore. To visit news sites or hear the pundits screeching in the background between grotesque, high pressure come-ons must be what it is to be insane, all of it mashed together as one long monotonous vision of obsequious fakery. Who do they think they're fooling? The burger set? Maybe as that set gorges its way to the recruitment hooks and perhaps a short half-life is a better life than the life of victims, children, elders, ordinary shack dwellers who never knew the land upon which the dust twists daily is Terminus all over again. At some point, lies backfire bringing on karma, Bring it on. The wait for love people is agonizing because we feel it coming, in spite of the decrees and altruistic covers designed to keep us in rags so our pockets have irreparable holes through which every penny dribbles out as if the single copper cent lying in our tracks is a sign around our necks "Take it, take it all, and take me too." Whenever I check in with the little box, its amazing to see everyone at it still. I ask why? What are you looking for that you don't already know? Perhaps you are looking for something you don't know, something impossible and suddenly, sigh, there it is. Hmmm.

How many nuke plants exist on Planet Earth? And is each a foil for Earth shattering weaponry too? Or just some of them? Like the allies. How would we know? We would not. Especially when every headline is about prostitutes' skeletons and sports doping or Charlie Sheen or heh, the movements taking place on the campaign trail. Or the budget deficit. That's a favorite, hunh. That'll keep all those nosy armchair economists glued to their screens, keep their noses out of things that really matter cuz we down here in Loveville don't have any economy left at all. When the Wetiko plan finally comes into full bloom, we'll go first because our entire lives have been gradually stripmined to make room for the gargantuan wallets of Monopoly (tm) money. Don't look now, but the little people everywhere, the love people, the love people in-training, the good and the innocent have either lost everything held dear to them or they are in the process of having it forced away through torture, radiation, disease, through lack of awareness, empty pockets and various interesting schemes in which the person victimized is not a consideration, never was and never will be.

Frankly, I confess to holding out some exceptionally small sliver of faint desire that there would be some vague turnaround of humanity by now, as in a general collective-unconscious looking for the bright side, oh, how foolish of me. In fact, what has been our collective life since the awakening of the Bu-ad godzilla is now our zeitgeist-in-full, rounded out, obtuse and obese. This is the way it is. Today and evermore until no more. And being that it is this way, what, I ask you, is there to look forward to? Ah, yes, at last, the plantation overseers are back in the saddle whipping the steed faster this time aided by monster technology and mushroom clouds. Dare you let on your anguish unless you want to see the new evaporation tool microwave your entire existence into instant ash and minuscule sprays of blood and mucus running in rivulets down that velvet dress.

Every single time the Wetikos turn on their campaign shows, I've always thought, hey, its too soon. You might have noticed its never too soon. Decades before the actual festivals begin, the presidential hologramed hopefuls are plotting four, eight, twelve years ahead. In between the vast, colorful ,nauseating, corporate-funded, chain-linked urban takeovers, we get to see our falling rock stars show themselves to never have been worthy of all that adulation. Is big business to be adulated? Must they leave us too early like Stevie Ray and Bob Marley in order to get out from under the giant Earthmover's dirt dripping claws? Leaving us to stand alone in shock and awe cherishing their memory, we point still to their example, how is that different than martyrdom? Surely there are secrets there too, better we do not know. We have too much already bringing us down and deeper. Why has no one come forward to state unequivocally we are in the thick of the energy wars, which are different than the turf wars of old in that those wars ended, why hide the motivation now, everyone knows what's up. Ten days ago I bought cheap gas for $4.09 pg. If that isn't a dead giveaway, I don't know what is. Who knew so many multitudes of so-called humans are pigs. Lipsticked. Armed to the teeth. Sporting comb overs resembling wet, used mops upside down over their skulls, perhaps that is a Wetiko thing to the tune of here today, gone tomorrow. Dancing with the stars, falling off the stage, who will Lady Gaga sue? What do you think Bristol pays in property taxes? Out of who's pocket? Do these ahem, people have underground bunkers equipped for twenty four thousand-years worth of privileged living? Listen, if you don't, you'd better think about what you're doing.

Often I ask myself who is driving this ship and what happened to them that they grew up with SFbrains, why would they parade and preen before media portraying themselves in possession of expert opinion, a deluxe opinion, the opinion of better, more skillful, superior, more worthy persons? That somehow they were finely crafted human Bentleys of excellence with extra-prescient perception where everyone apart from them is unworthy, evil, atheistic, witches and warlocks, to be feared and eliminated, out of sight, out of mind? Are they all abused children acting out, finally in position to "get their's"? That they were so ill-treated in youth ruined any possibility for the existence of compassion or clarity of values? No, it isn't that. I've known personally too many people with horrible back stories and lingering scars of abuse and found them to put truth to the idea suffering creates enlightenment, so deeply feeling, so deeply understanding of the plight of others for abuse to be a core reason. More likely it is obsessive power corrupting, creating laws by the minute overriding other laws created by competing powers, all of it designed to enrich and self-sustain while creating even more control, always selectively blind to the consequences because once tainted it turns to permanent stain out of all proportion to the original act - like Ponzi schemes, like serial killing. There can be no turnaround from here, its gone too far. It is illogical to trust planting a garden and going small and local as a means of fending off nuclear winter lying not too far in the future. Its not us driving this ship my friends, unfortunately the Captain rammed the iceberg out of choice and should the ship right itself, who is to say the first mate won't attempt to complete the effort? When you see these Wetikos making their Wetiko claims inspiring hatred, prejudice and egging on the Gods of war, you see a frightened little freak worried they will run out of gas in the dark on an unlit overpass crumbling into a swift moving river, wide and deep.

postcard from Planet Backwards

2011-03-31T19:14:00.000-07:00

We may have been transported to another planet while we slept. A planet where everything appears as it was when you went to bed, but the rules are different. The certainty is gone, nothing can be counted on to be what you thought it was, including mirrors which show only your preening representative-self, but these mirrors now imported from somewhere gawd only knows, are part of the new, New World lifestyles we all lead helplessly where right is wrong and black is white. I've said it before and will say it again, no one is immune. I'm quite sure you know how it goes, these sudden spring days give us a nostalgia, a screen door barefoot kind of summery happy sadness, something deep within the heart wants to go home again, but we don't really know where home is anymore. Perhaps it never was real considering how much is being revealed in the present, perhaps it was only a lyric in a song you resonated with or an artwork that spoke to you in a way that touched you and you reminisced about something hazy that was just a dream on your way to partake in continuing the dream as if it was endless. And then, BRRRRIIING BRRRRIIING, the cell woke you up with a scam call, an 800 number announcing BofA was here to help. As if anyone needs that kind of help. "Your social please."

I'm thinking about the recent events trying to separate my own conclusions from everyone else's observations. The problem seems to be that so many windup clacking dental jaws make their definitive pronouncements on these situations which muddles us and it takes a lot of silence and a good amount of disgust before strange new worldie ideas come creepin' round. In the midst of this jibber jabber, we forge on with our normal routines, so following my own advice, I make a point to remember fleeting thoughts no matter how absurd because after all, absurdity is rational on Planet Backwards.

To begin with, I labored for years upon years under one set of inviolate basics and as I matured, I took it for granted everyone else matured mentally and spiritually as well. Oh, ho ho. I blew off the Clinton years as a single parent which takes up a lot of attention and time leaving one somewhat ill-equipped to peer into the mysterious direction our world is taking, so when 2001 came along, and the bullhorner kept harping on attacks, I was stunned. Did he mean war? Had we not grown beyond that? What? That's video game nonsense, comics, sandbox bullying. He couldn't be serious! However, obviously we had already been transported and 2001 was the wake-up year we debarked as unwilling hostages, searched and tagged into Planet Backwards. Was it AD, BC, or NWO time? We can't know for sure, that's one of the chief hallmarks of this joint, nothing is what you are forced into pretending it is. Let's take this BP hit for example, didn't they used to be that gas station outfit with Swiss-style greenie graphics? On Planet Backwards, they are a ludicrously wealthy and universally powerful energy provider which appears to possess enough chutzpah to claw a hole in the tectonic plates holding our previous planet in place. And you know what that means, well the plates kept a movin' and a shiftin' until all those tender, flaming tectonic platters overlapped on top of each other and BOOM, there went Japan. Tragedy of all tragedies, Japan proved itself just as ill-equipped as I was to peer into the direction the wonderful wheels of progress had taken them. During all the years they should have known better, they were desperately balancing non-existent yen from a bone dry piggy bank rather than thinking about their rice paper villages despite the 1997 Kyoto Protocols on Climate Change. You have to imagine those very intelligent people that studiously researched the issues got an education that may well have saved their once exquisite paradise given the opportunity to speak truthfully where it counts. Somewhere there are some sad human beings, disoriented and displaced to shelters asking themselves why they took no for an answer.

Then I think about us, what an unholy mess was made of that sweet dream, guaranteed to get messier. Where does it end, you'll notice it is not even paring off, not in the slightest. Is everyone supposed to be homeless? They say this year is a bad one for housing, the word is foreclosures this year will beat all the previous years. Our economy is still in the toilet and the cowardly laureate only worsens the wound with a little altruistic interventionism which when you think about it, isn't this exactly what ignites the bubble bath? Well, around the hallowed dinner tables where pundits are not allowed, a big fat dose of grisly war is just the right prescription for an ailing economy. From Planet Backwards where war is peace, our telescopic star gazers hint stubborn Col. Qaddafi may have given the interventionists (ridiculous label alert) the gift of continuing consumptive prosperity. Does slave labor in China make those gilded plastic coffins for export?

Maybe it would have been more clever to save this entry for April Fools' Day, but many bloggers actually write posts in advance, and with the never ending advent of technology one simply clicks the mouse and posts appear at some exact time and date of their choice. I always wondered on every April 1st, who is the fool?

the Kids are alright

Amos keeps an eye on his family from the big house

Mother Scarlett watches too

The sheep are doing very well. All the kids are behaving like human children, busy, curious, enchanted, hungry, frolicking, joyous. They never just walk, they leap and hop. These particular sheep really have it good on Planet Backwards. If we just had wool coats and three-chambered stomachs, we could graze our hearts away too, never having to worry about anything other than staying dry in rainy weather. Although, with their extreme super-coats, rain water bounces right off. The day pen was moved much closer this morning and they are practically grazing at our door. I moved my drawing table right up to the corner windows for some gesture drawings of these guys. Gesture drawings are quick, (one minute is too long) rough pencil sketches for the purpose of loosening one's hand as well as improving the eye's understanding of anatomy so that you learn to see what IS and how it feels, rather than what you thought it was or surmised how it felt. Any art school worth its tuition fees spends the entire foundation year on Nicolaides gesture drawing techniques with live, nude models. This is known as Life Drawing 101. If you don't get to do this, you are condemned to spend your years on Planet Earth doing scritchy scratch on ruled notebook paper. Heh, I am a purist. not.

Allow me to close this post with sincere condolences, comfort and love to the Beageant family and to our brilliant and talented friends, Brian and Chickory, on their recent losses. Joe and those adored Mothers (great women who raised great people) are free at last. Praise Jah and His compassionate benevolence, when we have finally had enough He is there.

Listening to the wind

2011-03-18T13:30:00.000-07:00

Flying in the very face of spectacular, breath-taking, unimaginable-if-you-aren't-in-it, triple whammy catastrophe, the Wetiko-infected push for more guaranteed disaster. What does this say? Have they not by now read any news, seen a TV, been party to a press conference, spoken with or heard another suit hand-wringing over le conversation du jour? Not at all, they are busy showing off their spoils, ordering around the staff, meeting heart attack inducing deadlines por nada, slamming china coffee cups on the inlaid ceramic tile imported sideways from East Asia, I don't care what it costs dammit, they fail to notice when the radiation level creeps between the sheets. That multiples of thousands are already dead or dying, dispossessed and locked into sure contamination, or is that kind of utter chaos just another day in the life? It makes you want to cry. I remember during my sojourn in the desert, the Vets, the cowboy bikers, world weary and tired of it all, I was the person who took them to their VA appointments and waited until we could get out of dodge, back to Elephant Rock which had a natural trunk you climbed and sat up high listening to the wind. When you are on Elephant Rock, there are no questions, silent knowings whisper about your body and blow across your face. Most of these gentlemen were very ill from existing too long downwind the waste dump and from exposure to agent orange. Some were cured (that means not healed) only to get worse. Austin passed. It was not a happy ending. I recall him showing me a strange growth coming from his calf on which a four inch long tube of flesh had grown out like an unnecessary appendage. We couldn't figure it out and yet, during his VA visit, they removed it in the examining room avoiding even a cursory explanation of what it was or WHY it happened, but everybody knew anyway. It wasn't long afterward Austin went to Heaven. Once the desert predators heard he was ailing, they were all over him like feeding vultures. He felt he had no options and simply caved.

Is there any difference between catastrophic natural disaster and HAARP disaster? Is there any difference between anthropogenic climate chaos and natural changes within a fluid Universe? No, the outcome is the same, but there was once a difference, we had time then, time to change the course, set sail for calmer seas, pursue directions that brought joy to ourselves by bringing joy to others. And now? In stark contrast to what we could have been, we are silenced before the Great Tsunami of Evil. Perhaps more than care to be known as evil enthusiasts actually follow evil doings the way Octomom followed Brangelina. They never see themselves in that light. They instead see themselves as interested patriots, active or inactive, using talking points interspersed with half-truths formulated as they finished the morning commute in their restored Porsche 911, entered the glass and steel monolith and huffed it over to the post, sipping Latte. But for the love people, this isn't their cup of tea at all. Nothing wrong with Latte, what is wrong is the direction that is being pursued only perpetuates more and worse evil. At this moment in real time, evil has seemingly broken itself like dropped Limoges, each shard growing arms and legs in order to continue adding insult to injury, once, twice, three times is never enough no matter how ghastly the items on the evil checklist appear. I try to remember what we hear and see is multiplied by the increasing populations everywhere holding remotes to a thousand channels of nonsense. thus nonsense increases in tandem. This is heh, a special kind of growth.

Its never them that take the hit, you"ll notice. Its the people, the little people, many of them love people and love-people-in-training. The poor people just hanging laundry or riding a bike to collect wood for heat, children doing what children do, fishermen, farmers, the uncelebrated ones, the ignored, are the ones deemed expendable. They have long been exploited in unimaginably gruesome fashion, most of which is unknown and through bubble aftermath which you might notice qualifies as a prolonged state of shock, and possess nothing of worth, just ask the homeless what happened that ruined everything for the remainder of their time on Earth. What is more loss when you already lost everything and there are no means of ever getting it back? For that matter, what is loss when you've been brought to your knees in acknowledgment of the existence of a superior man because you hurt so bad there is no other way to make it stop, and it didn't really stop, it just costumed itself as TBTF. You have to wonder sometimes, if the secret societies have small scale plug-in Ferris Wheel desk accessories complimenting the leather armchairs complimenting finely polished rotating globes. "Get Hillbilly on the phone sweetheart." Maybe this is so, maybe it is not, but the idea would not have come up if there were not some reason to think ... High on Elephant Rock one accepts the state of all of humanity, the good, the evil are just life's infinite variety of vegetation. Warning: you may go there in a typical everyday state of shock, but you will leave in love.

Who among us really knows what will happen, anywhere, anytime? Apparently nobody knows despite a handful of smug reports of warnings given which were apparently not actually transmitted to anyone not invested in catastrophe before whatever event occurs? Now let's go back in time for a minute and recall the bodies floating in flood waters like unleashed rivers of blood streaming through New Orleans. And the towers, or AIDS, yes it goes way back, there were always things happening somewhere on the planet and we became inured as if we were purified from conception merely by our nationality. Well, not completely inured, it was a surreal confusion and no amount of tranquilizing pronouncements made it right. To my Father's credit, when I was freaking out after reading Sophie's Choice, he looked me in the eye and said "You think that was something, you should see what we did to the Indians", meaning Native Americans.

In catastrophe, there are always earnest, well intentioned inventors desirous of fame and fortune with their solutions. One of them managed to secure an interview on CNN yesterday with a Tsunami Ark. His ark holds (only) 50 to 70 people he says, but they are nothing more than floating orange capsules tethered to cement supposedly able to withstand tsunami force. Can you see it? Its perfect, its time has come! It is yet another layer of complexity gone wild to sustain the fantasy. Right away you can punch a tsunami of holes in the plan, principally just how long and longer will these tethers become as the wave heights increase and what if these tethers are too short and for cryin' out loud, what tether can withstand the most recent tsunami doing drive-bys at every port around the shores of the Ring of Fire? While we're on the subject, let us also mention the immoral developers who manage to arrange zoning approval to create entire towns which quickly grow into overpopulated cities on stilts to better retain a minuscule slice of ocean view which as an aside also determines property taxes. What happened to preplanning? If a tsunami aimed itself at Malibu or Montalk, there would be no more tinseltown players and no more beachfront architectural amusements regardless of how many orange arks dotted the sands. Especially when the warnings were half-truths and speculations. There is a weird part of human nature that gets lost in happy memories of better days when faced with the real possibility of immediate annihilation. That weird part is never taken into consideration because we are expected to snap to attention instantly at the ear-shattering blaring trumpets of the Schmooz. Everybody Listen Up! Shake, tremble and speculate! You can always tell when someone is fear mongering because they tell you so up front, "Now, I'm not fear mongering, but ..."

Bella's little girls, 15 minutes into the world

Watching are Scarlett's twins, Arnie and Adele at two weeks

Stella working on a treat

As all was becoming a nightmare of Karmic return while in mourning for the Japanese villagers who in these crazy days cannot possibly look forward to a brighter day, I took Bernie out as usual and noticed Scarlett the Ewe, recent new mom, gathering her lambs about her in a rather frantic manner. I rushed to see Bella, her sister, standing over two tiny wet charming puppy-size blobs of black. Two females this time. It was helpful I'd seen Scarlett's twins developing so quickly this week so I knew whomever was not able to stand up yet would be soon running and getting into everything that attracts their attention. I spent more time again with Amos, the father, the Ram, as always, because I know as a brother being, he wanted to help, grazers are genetically designed that way, although he was kept in his penthouse to prevent backbreeding. And of course, with Stella, the Mustang Princess, evermore lovely in mist and fog, glowing as her winter fur is brushed to a shine and her mane resembles Lauren Hutton's messy golden highlights... They all know me very well and are insatiably curious about my person-ness. Not a single thought about anything else other than being witness in the magnificence of birth including amplified love and compassion for all species was the Divine antidote to whatever else is going on anywhere.

So Jah seh

2011-03-09T01:07:00.000-08:00

...What's wrong with you my brother
So jah seh
Ye are the sheep of my pasture
So verily, thou shall be very well
So jah seh... Bob Marley

It is in keeping with the general Wetiko hallmarks that Rogue Planet Niburu would be the cause of all these recent disasters. Yeah, right. This absolves them (they think) of any responsibility for anthropogenic climate change which in turn allows them to pump up the fantasy. And as long as people believe it, because it is on woo CNN, it must be gospel. Drop by Dublin Mick's office for some reality. He's in session at this moment. If Niburu goes into the archives, all you have to do is click on the previous post arrow. He makes it all so simple. Indeed, there are some of us perhaps a little vacant on the Niburu story, as we are on a few other stories, because there is SO much going on in Mother's house lately, it is a little hard to be on top of it all, all the time. Dubs doesn't seem to miss a trick.

Last night the man on the couch with his feet on what passes here for a coffee table, his rectangular plywood slab on a round wicker base because carousing dogs broke the former top, jumped up to announce "That coward is going to attack Libya!" He then went back to what I thought was TV watching, but apparently his mind was wrapped around extra external events in that interesting way which later on proves he was solving mysteries with facts. This is why I've said in the past he's always right. I know, its not easy when the only other human in the household is always right, however, I've learned to listen, coupling it with my own observations, it looks like we are going to undergo yet another erasure of a functioning society. You know how it goes by now. I sped by a headline recently about Gadaffi's coffers emptied by the you-know-whos, I can't verify it with a link, but again, as I said, financial weapons of mass destruction are the first and last resort. But what do we know really? If we don't see a Saddam in the spideyhole/headlice exam followed by the noose, how would we know all these guys and their stand-ins are not living it up in Paraguay soaking up the Guarani Aquifer while sitting in a Cialis bathtub on Ecstasy. Between the very real possibility humanity will vanish from the face of the Earth in a nuclear winter and the prevailing Wetiko paranoid fantasies, anything we might have to say about it is not a consideration. Somehow, like circus performers learning how to walk the tightrope, we have gradually steeled ourselves knowing anything can happen ... at any time.

I caught Rachel Maddow's interview with Naomi Klein tonight. You might like to read the transcript which does not yet exist on MSMBC's site. Here is where it will show up in its own good time. Naomi really has her act together. Not a single blank stare or "Um", just straight shooting drawing from her book The Shock Doctrine, the rise of Disaster Capitalism and how disasters are perfect for a Wetiko strike during which everyone in the shock of disaster is already disoriented by what is happening on the ground, thus they are in no shape to grasp the scale of their losses. I'm sure you are familiar with Naomi's works. Of course there is more to it, the Wetikos are relentlessly busy and they have all sorts of secret compartments in which they labor, all designed to produce the most from the least without the responsibility of having created mass destruction, horrific losses, each event taking us further into that alarming possiblity I mentioned earlier. While we're at it, let me just mention here that as long as they are into farming disasters, just like big ag, there is no stopping the escalation. This naturally creates a mental chart with a red line going straight through the top where it says Implications of Universal Imbalance. Well, somehow you could get the idea if they keep it up, even climate chaos pales in comparison. Certainly, we do not want to let our imaginations get carried away, but you will recall Newton's Law of Motion: Every action has a reaction.

First hour on planet Earth

We, meaning us, not them and us, actually have a choice in these areas. Several. Ignore it and love your life. Or, listen with one ear and watch with one eye while loving your life. The other choice is to succumb to hyper paranoia and make yourself a sandwich board to wear at the main intersection in your locale. That last one will definitely get you into diversionary hot water or at least squashed by a tea party bus on its way to an Alaskan meet-up.

Day three on Planet Earth

I chose the second coping strategy. Scarlett the sheep had her two babies on the morning of March 3rd. It was and is one of the most holy experiences I've ever had just to witness the miracle of something old ranch hands with huge corrals of livestock probably take for granted. It seems that Scarlett is a most fortunate ewe in that she was not just one of thousands, but surrounded by great love and joy. We expect Bella to repeat the holiness next week, hopefully producing two lambs because three means you have to feed the third. Ewes have only two nipples. I have been spending time holding the lambs which puts real truth to the phrase "gentle as a lamb". Over the past few days, they have grown thicker coats and are up wandering around testing the limits of their pen which is growing larger everytime I visit. There are a lot of things to watch for out here, coyotes and the occasional mountain lion, however, every precaution and protection has been taken and predators don't really want to take on Dad, Amos the Ram, who is a sweetheart underneath his unsheared wool. Stella the Mustang miscarried two days earlier and could see everything going on over at the Sheeps' mansion, so I spent extra time with her and gathered huge bags of grass as a diversion from her loss. I've been talking her through it, we all know its best to honestly address another's sorrow, especially those among us who can't speak for themselves, still she made herself clear that nothing will be exactly back together until she has a foal of her own. This will happen, but not this year. Horses are in gestation for eleven months.

Meanwhile. I'd like to express gratitude to the people who continued commenting during my sabbatical in ag science. I used to feel a self-imposed pressure if something new didn't make it to eblogger at least every week, but no more, thanks to chickory who once said the time inbetween posts doesn't matter and to Scrap Wood who gave me permission to quit blogging altogether. There are many other things out there calling us and we should take advantage of those most promising spiritual growth however possible, although sometimes we don't know what surprises we shall meet, whatever they may turn out to be, the opportunity to create spritual growth exists everywhere. When you find yourself stacking logs you are participating in the real history of humanity, most of all you are joyously weaving yourself into stewardship of God's intent.

How do I know God's intent, I don't, I wouldn't begin to presume, but everyday we are made more aware of what was not intended.

Bondye se gade

2011-02-21T18:30:00.000-08:00

It takes a keen mind to perceive that what we have here is a conundrum, a riddle with a joke as the punchline. It doesn't have to be funny, especially when the joke is on us. The joke is how far away we've veered from what IS. Oh, we've veered far. Maybe on your first visit to a shrink you might have stated your reason for undergoing shrinking was not being able to tell the difference between reality and fantasy. And maybe he/she asked in nonthreatening tones that you define, as best you were able, reality. Even then you could have realized how such a question is not very different than trying to define normal.

... science acquires a certain comical swagger for making things you can squeeze out of tubes, in order to process the contents through other tubes that process the contents into waste products. ... Love in the Time of the Hadron Collider, by Visible

Not a day goes by I don't think about how toyish and absurd the present has become and like you, examine the reasons why this happened and more, what can we do about it? Maybe our complaint has something subliminal to do with a lack of communication between the past and the present, as if our ancestors would please step forward now and show us how they lived without constant nonsense. Surely they would find our convenience and comfort inventions, such as a tie-on shearling toilet seat cover, insane. Perhaps they would be glad they didn't stick around longer.

The Internet is a another conundrum for all of us who labor in creation sharing online be it words, art, information, poetry, music, because we've learned the net has some kind of master off switch accessible to heads of state and more, in a post Apocalyptic world (The Road alert, The Book of Eli alert) all of our published efforts will vanish into that nebulous place they call Cyberspace, perhaps the Yucca Mountain of moons, never to be recovered, just hidden behind planets and overlaid with dust rings. You can say that's impossible, the Internet is here to stay, but we all know its just another one of those technological variations made of petroleum derivatives and precious metals, it might as well have been made of whatever is squeezed out of those tubes Visible brought to our attention, all of which will no doubt disrupt the rediscovery of reality again and again until reality liquidates your personal space.

Not that there is any such thing as heh, personal space anymore. Yes, there once was, but that was only more of the lunacy much like This is mine, that is yours, except if it comes from the Earth, its not either of ours and since Everything comes from Earth, well ... Only if you'd bought into the entire fantasy would you think you possessed anything other than your own mind/body and even those are up for question. It remains another chapter in the universal conundrum why people can't see the immensely evil violations committed through false possession. And yet, the excuses for doing so are specifically designed to point out the vacancy in an intellect you actually possess. This is one of the hard parts of being a love person, we are easy to take advantage of and this feature is not lost on those who love to hate, use, take advantage, ridicule, lie to and steal from. It thrills them to convince themselves they are smarter than you to whomever they desire to impress, mostly themselves, with their quickness of mind and attache of predictable criticisms.

... Alyosha was convinced that there was not a man in the world who would wish to offend him or, for that matter, could offend him. He had accepted that once and for all as a self-evident truth, and so he had no misgivings ... The Brothers Karamazov, by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Love people simply cannot be offended. They may experience a brief confusion during attack since any attack worthy of your attention contains truth upended, as in a full polar shift, but the fundamental mind/body of a love person always understands from where and why any attack comes. It comes from buried pain experienced somehow, somewhere in vague flickers of the past belonging to an attacker, deep, unrealized and covered over with layer upon layer of dirt and drivel burying any hope reality could possibly surface as long as this thing we call western civilization with all of its ridiculous trappings exists. In order for a departure in reality to prevail, you need a military industrial economy with attack personalities designated, among themselves, as official pack leaders. You need a common mindset of Possession, a sort of me only wrongheaded survival tactic writ large, very, very large, large enough to present an overall appearance of total agreement that by necessity black is white and vice versa.

It was never a good plan to purchase control of human lives, translated for the incurious as "aid" when the real strategy all along has been funneling Earth's resources to distant locations where there are slim to none. It was a guarantee that given enough time, the plan would self-destruct. Everything not borne from reality destructs with enough latitude - which is where we find ourselves today. When virtual reality falls, everything goes with it into the Black Hole, there is no discrimination. So few, perhaps no one at all, have any idea how to replace the social order of corruption with a mutually beneficial cooperation between ourselves and the planet, i.e.; reality. We think we know, but reality will prove us wrong. We don't actually know anything for certain. Leadership authorizing possession of entire peoples is a tried and true impossibility. Fairness and cooperation with Nature could have only been possible starting from the day the composition of the Earth spawned life, not now. Reality has been made silly, vulnerable to ridicule and punishment, punishments insisting on your allegiance and dependence on what mankind has made of itself, a bloated monster killing machine looting, thieving, possessing and controlling, incessantly reproducing variants on the theme with petroleum-based, easily breakable and lost, tiny, seemingly insignificant plastic parts and variations of zeitgeist languages and mores that have lost any semblance of reality whatsoever, the more reality attempts emergence, the more omnipresent the tubes, tubed band aids on top of soul gashing wounds fracking through the globe.

The categorization of phenotypes, skin colors and nationalities, the fiction of borders and property divisions, credit ratings, purchasing power and the swarms of fantasy industries and localized dictatorships that arise in the crevices like roach infestations, feeding off the primary illusory elements, only lead us deeper into make-believe. Tinseltown's red carpet, high style, creative direction, sports figure idolatry, bargain bonanzas, tweeting, political partisanship, speeches, anthems and invocations, amazing stuff, isn't it? And all of it beholden to boardroom charts. Love people could definitely waver in this never-ending torrent of idiocy emulated throughout the globe, but it won't last indefinitely. The stagelights are dimming under the heat generated by their bizarre creations, oversexed-over-population and over-consumption. At this moment we're seeing a glistening thick Roy G. Biv climate chaos rainbow breaking over the horizon through the once impenetrable fog of sheer nonsense. Something is downloading as we speak and its not what it initially appears, it is impossible to define until it shows itself in full.

We do not need psychedelics to understand this. We only need quiet thoughts, and we need to remain aware of those thoughts so they are not fleeting. The co-opted psychedelia, the personalities, the raves and the newer, evermore powerful reality alterations have been reigning down upon our culture in phosphorescent colors, stealing our attentions and robbing all under the influence, further distorting lives in a distorted, disoriented world. While we were entertained with sumptuous pleasures, we inadvertently added to the foolishness, only in this way can we bear some responsibility. Little did we realize or care we were being taken advantage of in broad daylight as dawn rose in the west and the appearance of normalcy still stood even though we knew it couldn't possibly be so, but it was. As the years passed and keeping up with the insanity "culture" continued enlarged, the vulnerability of the little people was ripe for the take. If they could get away with it here and there, why not do it again! Its happened so many times we cannot count them all or ever know of most of them, they are excluded from "education" and media, but this time it is different. Through massive overpopulation we have exceeded the planet's carrying capacity yet the pillars of extreme possession stand firmly in place to ensure the continuity of over-consumption. This is the new reality. The kinds of deviations and concealments practiced now will never have an opportunity to reoccur after they self-extinct and as you have noticed, they are self-extincting at this very moment and for some reason known only to the Forces, we are in the middle of it all.

I'm not so sure there is any cause to celebrate or inch towards optimism. What I'm seeing in the sudden protests in so many locations suggests foment by an entity behind them all desirous of removing less cooperative, leeching dictators and replacing them with younger, less expensive, fresh puppetry ready to acquiesce to their masters in a fashion similar to Wall Street rotating its heavy muscle from private enterprise to the halls of the superpower. The repeating irony of these revolutons in the hearts and minds of the participants are pitted against what people think they want (or what they've been tutored to demand) and what people actually need. Added to this irony is the gross reversal of the people's real primary needs into leaderships' agenda, always helped along through behind-the-scenes finagling, with foreign policies coming at them from all sides, creating an untenable situation because again, they are not based in reality.

They are based in obsequious transference of wealth and finite resources. Reality is health, reality is enough nutritious food to sustain the body, clean air, fresh unadulterated water, the fruits of Mother Earth for all species on the planet, trusting relationships with family, friends, the world at large including animals, sea creatures and bird life, legal stewardship of Nature, moderation in all things and the God given freedom to live in a peaceful state without interference and love, in all the ways that matter to you, loving the Earth, loving mankind, loving your activities, loving the land enough to refrain from overbuilding, love of our fellows enough to do unto others as you would have them do unto you, love of our offspring enough to leave them a lovable world so they too may love life enough as it is without costuming it or dividing it or trampling it according to the dictates of possession and its abusive dangling participles, fear and punishment.

So blind and far along in the madness, exponentially encouraging the Culture of Extinction (thanks, Charles) with vanity and pompous over-consumption, reduced to never ending war for the survival of the fantasy in the very face of undeniable climate chaos, our battle appears futile, but while we won't see much progress, it is of huge consequence. Even if the planet doesn't make it, Bondye se gade, Creole for God is watching, as are his other inhabitants of the Universe.

Let's say for discussion purposes, that God isn't watching. If you are an authentic love person grounded in the reality of what IS, it would not change anything for you, because the power is your own, within, to love, to nurture, to understand, to feel for others, to care and to give whatever you have in any way you can. You would have long ago accepted your own strength of character, once and for all time, as self-evident truth.

the carpet too, is moving under you

2011-02-01T22:34:00.000-08:00

...You must leave now
Take what you need you think will last
But whatever you wish to keep
You better grab it fast...
Bob Dylan

According to recent weather updates, from the extreme eastern regions of So-Cal, up and across the Southwest and throughout the Great Plains region, ballooning north, south and east, on into whiny Manhattan and the Great North beyond, a two by four is attempting to awaken the slackers. I say whiny Manhattan because only in Overpopulation would New Yorkers be moved to speak up about their streets. (Ever tried to cab cross-town midday?) It used to be that losing one's vehicle in the snow was so freekin' normal you just got down to business and found the right lump. Personally, I enjoy those kinds of activities. They're sort of mysterious and compelling, a game you usually win, the somewhat slim chance of loss drives you to win. Its not addicting, it is the rarity, not your every day miracle, although to car thieves and the underground parts industry, heavy snow, mass disaster in general, is miraculous opportunity.

We who still have functioning electrical power know already how weather is poised to be Egypt's alternate story. So many questions, so much hurt, too many people, no solutions. Of course, there are big solutions available, but after all these long years of hearing about peace and stability, ever ask yourself what that really means? It means free and unfettered reach to do as one pleases. It means purchasing a situation where the world's populations silently turn over every resource the energy whales require without uttering the slightest dissent which is impossible given human nature. You cannot remove the small portion of Earth upon which a man stands without him falling down. You cannot take away his right to stand up and yet this is what is going on wherever a foothold can be bought. Once again the markets rear up in defiance, Moody's downgraded Egypt and the markets were shut down hoping to quell the flight of liquidity which will only worsen when they reopen. This is how the world works and their last hope at that unfettered free reach. It works sometimes, in some already barren, beaten down places because people need to eat, but considering the unrest in Egypt was called for by a 28 year-old girl using Facebook, the youth of this planet is about to put a stop to all the whipping humans experience worldwide simply trying to survive. Jah praise the yout.

... Egypt and the country's military have grown accustomed to American support and will want the money to keep flowing. It is the flow of this money that ensures the purchase of the replacement government. Because the US dollar is the world reserve currency, the US government has financial dominance and the ability to financially isolate other countries ... Paul Craig Roberts

Enough of that. Inevitable is inevitable. Anyone reading this far is prepared to think on their feet, right? Don't let me be a downer, but the fantasy is never the reality. And no doubt a part of you was positive you were exempt. No little person is exempt, you should know that by now. There is no WHO fanfare concerning this disease, no Rumsfeld vaccine, not now when everybody is wiping the sleep from their eyes. They may not yet have the details in order and maybe they will never see the whole picture, but people naturally question and wonder - how it ever got to be this way. It is due to the selective bulletins, the omissions, the twisting of evil into the language of altruism, that chemtrails are suspect as well. And now HAARP. When was the last time anyone revealed what's up on Diego Garcia? On days like this, after hearing Hoseme try to see out his term by watered-down compromise, everything is up for question. The disease is collectively so much farther along than you or I could possibly imagine. These are people from another parallel having invaded ours and now insist on sticking around and driving humanity into oblivion. They wrecked their original parallel with this behavior, no lessons were learned, that mindset is unable to perceive lessons. They exist to destruct. They are completely immune to pain or suffering. They look human, but that's just a trick of blending into our parallel to better spread their psychosis. You might say this is nonsense, but what is happening throughout the world is equally as nonsensical. In order to understand, you have to forget everything you ever thought previously and get weird. Nothing logical is logical anymore. Every road a cul de sac, a detour looping from nowhere to nowhere.

I don't want to waste our time talking about them. It gets too heavy, too distracting, too quickly, it will kill you if you allow it to through mere overload of evil costuming itself in western dress, pearls and Jane Harmon's platinum frosted do. When you are dragged to the doctor no one will believe what happened, blaming your condition on your shabby lifestyle and lack of mandated health insurance. Never mind you were occupied by force far away from any choice on your own where you cried out for assistance time and again and no one in a position to help ever heard a peep. In fact, your peeps were stifled intentionally for statistical charting purposes. You existed nowhere on any chart published by any entity, without apology you do not count because if you did you might be heard and they can't have that. I do not expect lasting change for the Egyptian people or for anyone actually. Humanity is up against too many stacked decks and shifty characters pulling out all the stops. There is no such thing as a half win. The people standing up have our admiration and our support, the problem is too many things have to happen before there will ever be a genuinely united win, we are not the deciders of fate at this moment, the deciders are still casting fate. Just how much casting takes place is revealed more literally by the hour. Financial weapons of mass destruction are the first and last resort in deciding fate and will not give up, hardened as they are, just as the truth behind that 2001 moment of reckoning will never be brought to light. Its all related, one action leads to another and ripples out into the atmosphere poisoning survival of the species. Were we born into this world only to die correcting it? If you are passionate about your life experience, that may well answer the question of life itself. Why are we here, now? We could have been reincarnated into any previous or future time and would we find the same situations, patterns, repeating as cells split, multiply and split again? Is it all merely science? If it doesn't work out in Egypt, where will it work out? And what will it take? I realize we greatly credit Orwell already with wisdom and vision beyond the typical mind, but likely he saw this day coming in a way few, if any, have ever willingly put to paper. It is unusual no religions have sprung up around his insights, perhaps because it isn't exactly lucrative, although Orwell's observations came to pass while a so-called civilized world went along with it, willingly, even greedily, begging for more. Apparently no one wants to create a magachurch dedicated to the police state although it still could happen, if, and that's a big IF, there were time for it to happen. At some point, climate chaos takes over and all the plans of the Wetikos will be buried under the scramble.

Allow me to briefly move away from the horrors and misery imprisoning little people everywhere. The Mustang princess Stella, is back from boarding during those climate chaos rains that muddied up her apartment. They plaited her mane She's grown the most amazing winter coat, its fur. Imagine chestnut fur with her blond mane and two white diamonds on her forehead. I'm going to be the official photographer when she goes into labor. Yes, of course, I will post the best ones. Chip, the Appy, went to a relative's farm which is very cool, his old stomping grounds. It seems with animals especially, we have to recognize that we will miss them, but love is wanting the best for them.

Gosh, I almost got away from the Wetikos there. I'd so rather involve myself into what's happening with the animals. Its the animals' non-verbal communication and their appearance, its spare, its exactly functional for exactly what each animal requires and no more, no shoe fetishes, no preening in the zeitgeist pyramid, its a lifetime of come-as-you-are. Now to get back to the dark side ... oh, let's not. Its an important move to dedicate some portion of your day to your animal family including livestock. Take them herbivore/grazer treats, hays, carrots and apples. Never doubt your friendship. Be as affectionate as possible. Just like any friendship, go slow and see how it develops. This can all be simplified by just saying use your manners. If you don't have manners, I can't help you. I probably could, but I wouldn't want to.

Between the the catastrophes of climate change and Egypt, that should be enough, but its obviously not. It never is now. This is real, my friends. Multiples of happenings growing towards some distant, final crescendo. I don't know about you, but I grab the good stuff where I can. If there is something beautiful taking my full attention, so be it. We are typing on varying sizes and styles of little boxes that can give us any detail of anything we'd ever want to know, anywhere, what is far more fascinating and real exists outside, offline. Kindle that. In your life, are there not moments of clarity every now and then in which you see yourself? There is no technology, at least not yet - which means never, that can bring that around. Wherever there is revolution, the people in revolt have gone deep within themselves, each one of them, to recover spiritually for without awareness there is nothing.

food wagon at the Sphinx

2011-01-30T13:58:00.000-08:00

Please go to the Gallery.

If you are on dial-up and have to wait for the images to download, here's something to digest in the interum.

under a fuchsia sky

2011-01-23T12:45:00.000-08:00

It is a trick of the human mind to sweeten our past and dissect our present thus the term fond memories, as if the past was our personal interactive 20th century movie and the present is all that is real, true, yes, but still we dress ourselves in comparisons with then and now, now and then to the point that now is a jagged edge of zigging and zagging events and nonevents while events from the past have a way of being some scripted kind of rise to salvation where everything was bent towards happily ever after. In our physical present it is not happily ever after, rather in many cases sheer survival. According to memory, all was less arduous to bear in the past, we sort of sailed through rough spots arriving intact to today only to ponder again the question of The Open Boat: Why, how, after all the harrowing and resolved thrills of then, did we, do we, arrive here, in this long, drawn out series of worsening, humiliating conflicts, personal and political? Maybe I'm just feeling a way today and maybe not. Maybe in the cold clear light of this winter morning seeing January present itself as early May, we can say "Hold it, this never happened before, but it is happening now." If we are still around in ten years, will this particular time zone presently under today's experience be fond? Most of you reading here will say no, that decade was a run up to TEOTWAKI and the present is engulfed in world wide suffering and upheaval, although its always been that way we just did not realize how ruthless is the journey of life in the long run. We did not grasp the fall out of war. Worse, we drastically underestimated suffering. We underestimated evil. You will think this is new. It is new when its new to us.

We are in a precarious stage at the present. It is a malevolent present, portending worse to come and this attitude is fully accepted as the way it is, as if we are caught helplessly in some satanic vice squeezing out our ability to self-resurrect. Everyday we go through the motions, in freefall designed by ourselves for self-preservation while completely unknown to ourselves as the architects of our experience. Nothing we do has impact on the mass psychosis of the present while everything we do is consciously performed to create our perceived version of what route the future takes. Everyone has their crutches. Some garden extensively, others meditate or count on whatever saving grace is available to them to reroute their tomorrows and when tomorrow becomes today did it help or was it just more whirling in freefall while time marched on?

Migrant workers housing Weedpatch government camp,
watercololor on Arches

Overpopulation is perhaps the greatest and least acknowledged problem here. All those minds with bodies coming from every angle and more, all of them needing something to do and they do it. In this respect, the past was better, overpopulation had not yet reached the density it has today and will reach, regardless of population watchers telling us it is leveling-off in certain more educated (spelled western) societies. When the Industrial Revolution's blind detour is corrected, as it cannot help but be corrected, overpopulation will bulge out into anything it can grab to survive and see itself as worthy of having existence which is just an extension of what we already see. Overpopulation has rights, legal personhood, it is a protected condition encouraged by child molesters. As humans are boxed-in more efficiently into accepting no life, still more life is on the way ensuring no life at all for anything breathing. Ran Prieur once said our planet could likely support overpopulation, the real problem was mismanagement, an observation that may well be correct, he's a pretty smart observer. But since human nature is an iffy proposition in general, beneficial management of seven billion minds may not be possible regardless of management. Many so-called humans are equally as predatory as animals. Once someone sets themselves up mentally as an authority, something happens to their humility. They tend to focus on top down control benefiting themselves and whatever good intentions originally drove them are lost, usually forever. For example, our leaders of today are not leading. Over time they have become biased towards self-interest and deathmatch concealment of personal motive. In this way, they are like a pack of dogeared baseball cards, traded and finding completeness in sets. It is impossible to integrate them into the general population again, the line was crossed, the pacts permanently sealed. They hang out with each other, using each other as yardsticks and justification, its the civilized way, imitation is flattery. And yet, we know thanks to the news under the news, its more than flattery, its denial by design. Have you been denied lately? Oh, you have? One hundred times a day every single day? Nights too? It wasn't always that way, was it. I do not recall seeing horizontal blinking colored lights floating in the heavens, the Flying J's of the Universe, begging for attention from possible passersby.

I'm in agreement with bholanath who commented last week on the flexible timetable of prophecy. What we have here is a steadily deteriorating situation without foreseeable schedules. Name one edict, one plan, one rollback or reform that halts the onslaught of worse. You see, once it started it could not be stopped and here we are in growing lunacy contrary to all things good and right. I don't have any answers as nonspecific thunder rumbles in the background with lightening bolts scattering over any sequestered region/s self-possessed and sustainable under most conditions, but let me welcome you to the new conditions. Oh, its official. These are the new conditions and so much worse is on the way I cannot imagine it. I've tried. So embroiled in what was are we that what is to come has no reality. Must we delve into corruption to be decent? When everything appears to be heading into chaos, must we too be chaotic? Scrambling for breathing room, dirty dealing, concealing our one true deepest and inescapable motive, that of our own survival? No. J'objecte!

Aside from the occasional personal niceties, the mailbox bears very bad will. Everyday it is jammed with corruption. If you want to bring bad karma into your home, get the mail, open it, sign the forms and send them back in the self-addressed, no postage required envelopes now obese with forms filled to completion. It is a guaranteed self-fulfilling nightmare that will return again and again with more papers, more signature lines, more coercions in ever increasing sizes of packets until you are bleary with exhaustion even before the cell phone chimes with hundreds of unknown phone numbers, heh, kinda like a chain letter, the returns are amazing, but what is more amazing is the masses are actually participating and if they are not participating, where are the objections? Some of us who are amazed would have made excellent fish, refusing to bite the bait and all. But the creators of bait catch enough fish to make the expense worthwhile or they wouldn't do it. Do beware, the trawlers are working now and its sink or swim.

Do note also that no one is stepping up to the microphones to make promises of aid following Pakistan's 7.4 earthquake at the northeast border with Afghanistan (massacre alert, clear the property alert, evacuate immediately alert) or offering C-130s to evacuate flood victims and carry medical supplies and food to anguished Australians and South Africans. They don't even bother anymore, they're too busy watching Baby Doc free himself in order to power grab during Haiti's election crises before HAARPing on sudden shifts in the tectonic plates. There's a lot to watch on their phone screens besides porn. Mostly they watch Hu since his last visit was accompanied with little if any fanfare and now, trillions in national debt, likely quadrillions in world debt, Hu gets his state dinner. All the little things going down add up. They won't deny what is happening, they must deny it to the bond holders or there will be margin calls. While we stretch out what is left of our days, languishing in doubt and wonder, China turns into us and we become the cheap knock-off we were merely slightly known for once upon a time by any astute travelers who left the state and discovered the real thing. It seems that China created its wealth from the US buyer so its only right the US be bailed out by them, at least temporarily, but isn't this how wars begin? Anyone challenging our financials, our imperial rights, should be cautious, it looks like the whole thing is going to blow. Yes, I know, there are many reasons going all the way back to repeal of Glass-Stegall that brought us so low so fast, and it was fast. Faster than we recall since everything was rosy then. And now ... well I needn't go into it further. They say it is always darkest before the dawn.

Bulletin board:

Please do not miss bholanath's video, Kali Stuti, I downloaded it to the library and played it again late Saturday night reminding myself we are truly blessed to be among musical genius. It is shockingly, hauntingly exquisite and takes you far into the realm of great beauty and holiness. If you already played it, all I can say is Play it Again and again. Every time I hear it there are previously undiscovered nuances.

Prayers of gratitude and pure love are due for Susana Su-nami who saved her son's chance at a full life over the past week in an agonizing balancing act completing a perfect Yin Yang.
Blessings abound, one love.

The Cycle of Life

The schedule jumps forward

2011-01-11T22:59:00.000-08:00

The schedule has moved up because Wetikos are ignoring the signs due to fear of massive and unprecedented potential for loss. Can you imagine that? What is happening now was supposed to happen beginning next year according to prophecy, but alas, its too late. I regret to inform you loss is the name of the game.

I don't have the patience and you don't have the interest to go over everything that has gone down since our happy new year began. I was aghast to see such clamor over the latest of so many clamored shooting sprees when there is no clamor at all as usual on the ridiculously expensive, legally approved shooting, bombing, burning and assassination sprees of the resource rip with the exception of a small handful of writers much of whose prose I am not exactly in a position to swallow verbatim since generally they don't pass the leaky wikileaks or the nine one one litmus tests. What it is that we get is never the real thing, but a facsimile of agenda then widely reported in the form of weakened facsimiles of already slippery facsimiles, i.e.; long on speculation and short on fact eventually morphing into whipped cream riches for an already generously enriched security industry. Shall we talk about the weather instead? The exceptionally brutal la nina is supposedly responsible? For crying out loud. Georgia has always had ice storms. Georgia has not always had two thousands daily flights cancelled holding up the machinations of the system (spelled lost profits and pronounced as inability to make loan payments as per agreed schedule). The real weather appears to be walloping the Wallabies today, yes, even as Pakistan is turned to fade, tomorrow, who knows where or what technology enhanced PA systems will bring forth.

The hibernators inhabiting my region are not hibernating this year. For whatever else is unnerving, this is yet another sign, one within my view as living, breathing real phenomena of something happening that is definitely not normal.

Actually, its those birds falling out of the sky, (the Red Winged Blackbirds tribaling with their bredren, the Cowbirds, and immigrant Starlings with jeweled Tudor feathers), and the genocided fish stuffing our waterways, strange things that definitely leave pundits rushing for their notes and coming up clown-faced. We'll be seeing stranger soon enough having entered into this gruesome phase of the revealing. Can anyone in any location reading here say with absolute certainty the weather we are experiencing is what it is supposed to be based on how its always been since we arrived on the scene? That it is normal for birds and fish to check out en masse? That Queensland and Brisbane are on not well on their way to breaking Katrina's record death toll and diaspora?

There are lists around, you've seen them, taking us through all the horrors from last year into this one. It is amazing to me how few mention Haiti, as if everything in Haiti is just lovely. No cause for concern. Besides, its all happening faster than anyone could possibly have imagined and the spotlight is on Australia now anyway, Haiti, you'd better be taking care of yourself, not that you haven't already been doing that for a few hundred years.

... It is as if “until it happens to you” that the climatic extremes don’t carry any true weight or meaning. As long as the trucks continue to run and stock the supermarkets and big box store shelves, we simply don’t care how we have treated the planet, or what sort of horrifying inheritance we have given to our children and grandchildren. ... Admin | Survival Acres

How soon before you are sharing a makeshift pup tent you don't own because you lost everything, looking for the relief workers bearing MREs or standing on the rooftops in gated communities waiting for helicopter rescue? Any day now my friends, it could be us, it could be anywhere at anytime. Don't take my word for it, just look outside as the freezing rain turns to hail and still the chemtrails leave ugly ribbons across that clear blue sky quickly turned to thick, darkening snow clouds. You wonder funny things then, what ifs and so forth.

No sooner did we leave one tragic subject another rises on its heels, keeping us in a constant state of mental occupation, a state of terrorized occupation. As always, when we are under occupation, a small voice in the back of our minds asks underneath this one and that one, what else is going on? The thrust to keep us from asking that exact question is on like never before. We are not to know, under some unnameable threat of some unnameable harm to unknown citizens, some of whom can guess what may be taking place. It does appear however, at this time in the history of civilization we are revisiting every reason we should never have gone where we find ourselves today. It is a sad fact of life on Earth that some of us are open minded and some of us are too scared as opposed to being too ignorant, to accept reality on its own terms rather than constantly twisting it into something in which you have a personal investment. Sure, the ignorant have big numbers, but how ignorant is someone really when no one can miss the events of the present blaring from every bullhorn on every corner of the planet? You'd have to be all the way out there heavily abusing opiates, fully into your fries and fried pies to remain ignorant for long in the revealing.

Now I am just like you, another watcher, another concerned little person subject to the same incessant diminishment of life's quality. And surely it makes you feel awful, especially when all people just want to feel safe, free in their homes and communities and at peace with everything and everyone else. Don't look for corruption to fade away in the snow and ice, they are already showing us exactly how the revealing will be handled.

It won't be handled. It will be denied to the last man. Corruption is here to stay for the duration and guide the suffering with excuses and falsehoods. As the planet becomes a nonstop horror flick, the foreclosures in disguise will continue until there is nothing left anywhere. The closed mind denies everything until their dying breath.

The closed mind emerged from the womb a sort of shapeless cellulose sponge absorbing the machinations of ego constructs never challenged, educated in complete expectation of being served a birthright of convenience and unoriginal, incomplete thought processes in which use of the physical body supplied was thought an inconvenience. Picking up the mail last week, I overheard two cellulose adults in line, speaking loudly as if softer speaking would not create the desired impression on their unwilling audience, saying something about as soon as whatever happened she would get a new SUV. This flew past the ears of twenty five or thirty onlookers in classic frayed farmhand overalls and beaten down workboots which tell you the socks probably do not have any foot covering left. Onlookers who have already sold their livestock because they cannot afford to feed them any longer. Onlookers who once ran small shops and businesses who absolutely can no longer afford the fees the state requires from small business and lost the last shreds of revenue to the energy gluttons with card bearers only refueling stations. The strip malls are empty save the dancing illegal waving his hot pizza sandwich board at the intersection. The biggest drag in all of this is they will take us down with them - all the way from repairing our own workboots, mending our socks and digging our own graves.

We are in the thick of it now. Its all unfolding as we grip our chairs, belted in for the long run, a few thousand years of peak die off to come before one beautiful day it will be different, cleaned up by the Forces where all killing products were lost to resource theft and disease vanished because the official sample keepers lost their vials of stored plagues when the earthquake hit, when the bars to the cells crashed down and Guantanamo simply slid over the mid-Atlantic states into Canada before sinking into a rusticle-covered grave somewhere near the Titanic's crypt.

Last week I wrote everyday we play musical chairs, let me change that to musical deck chairs because the shoreline is receding making way for the tsunami as we speak.

Even if you did everything right, it was impossible really to back off completely from use of some material, likely a plastic water container or a commercial soap boxed in cardboard and shrinkwrapped, or from the idea we might offend others with our natural scent and sprayed our underarms with an aerosol deodorant. Even during the flu last December, Dublin Mick and I, thousands of miles away from each other, both took our doctor's orders seriously and ingested pharmaceuticals. Even the lonely woodsman far from advertising's grip makes a trip to Wal*Mart for airtight containers every now and then, I know, I've seen it. But that's not happening anymore, we ditched our involvements and got right with the Earth, yet sometimes we slip, its designed to be unavoidable. The trick might be to stop blaming ourselves, but to get on with our survival skills, perhaps write them down, be sure to show them to the children, someone has to carry this knowledge into the future if mankind has a future, something we will never know unless we are reincarnated into whatever species comes about as a result of ... the revealing.

The coming months are almost guaranteed to be a downplay of the present, even they know its over the top already, but if you ask you will find you are in the company of Wetikos who refuse to lose. So don't waste your energy, instead get that Tao in hand and make peace with the present while you can.

rusticles photo: c. google images

Kali at the gates

2011-01-01T20:45:00.000-08:00

Certain friends who comment here are insisting I stick around no matter how many weeks in between posts. This is good, helpful and believe it or not, I've actually composed a few essays and deleted them as not being entirely accurate descriptions of the issues and impressions of this profound period. Every question that appears to have an answer only brings up more questions and concerns and possibilities that rumble around in the back of our minds where certainty has not yet attached itself. Everything, when looked into in greater detail, adding in all the considerations for all involved, appears to be insolvable and yet we have come this far on insolvable questions already, sometimes a few are solved by the luck of the draw, but quickly return to Darkness extended. This says that the question of the life experience itself may very well be unanswerable in the way we want it to be answered. It doesn't mean we don't have a plan, many of us do, but are unable to act sufficiently on our plans because too much of these plans are dependent on variables over which we have no control. That's where the good old "wait and see" comes in, unless wait and see turns into the painful and slow evaporation of any plan at all. Taking apart wait and see, you'll realize it is procrastination costumed in hope. Now I have always stressed here that hope is as equally empty a human expression as belief, both being variations on wishful thinking which is a real phenomena and often at the root of denial. Hope, belief, wishful thinking are age-old tools for coping with the harder parts of our journeys and not to be trusted if you seek truth. I'm thinking these worthless tools have been passed on to us since the days we wore natural coats protecting us from the harsher elements in cave dwelling and kept around because our brains had not yet developed more complex thought processes other than those of our immediate physical needs i.e.; food, water, shelter and sex. Throughout the turf wars of empires past, people typically clung to magical falsehoods, myths as truth, thinking they were real, alive, inviolate and worthwhile. In return they became devastated with disappointment and susceptible to plagues, even greater penury than previously thought possible, enslavement, imprisonment and inhumane execution where their hopes and beliefs were sometimes suddenly, sometimes slowly and always cruelly dashed. All of this still goes on and has mutated over the centuries into regal platitudes of hope and belief as public panacea which unfortunately turns out to be better stated as language used against hopers and believers: a "dogmatic softening of the target" in order to accomplish whatever it is the regals' plan of the day is trumpeting, which regals themselves are by necessity prone to integrate subliminally. An example of this would be universal health care. This is how they can stand before huge crowds convincing the hopeful and the believers, they have convinced themselves they stand on the highest moral ground while omitting an important detail, that of their very own immorality.

Hurricane Katrina, photo: c. Google Images

We end up confused and in denial. Denial on the part of the peasants and denial of true intent by the regals empowering situations such as the one in which we are currently embroiled in all its absurd fullness allowing massively over-bloated egos to attempt one world government, a misnomer if there ever was one since the real intent is empire with unfettered possession of free resources anywhere desirable resources exist. The best term would then be Planet Ownership since governing as we think of government isn't actually happening and has not been happening, perhaps it never happened at all in the way people hoped and believed it was. In retrospect, Katrina opened our minds to that very possibility and all disasters since continue to reinforce it. Consider that it has taken the judicial system more than nine years to vote in favor of the 911 emergency management workers, more than a few of whom are long dead and buried. Consider this in context of having a plan and leaving the implementation up to hope and belief. Consider how non-citizens are slammed with US law which does not apply outside our borders and yet we know the cleverness of the corrupted, focused minds at work will find a way given enough hope and belief from other nations who have grown dependent on that borderless Santa Clause leadership sleighing in with IMF reindeer from the mythical shining city of the company store to whom world citizens are supposed to owe their souls. I've come to find by reading various items on the net a great many of us feel that 911 was the beginning of all the horrors that have taken place since, but those discovered horrors only show us what was eliminated or glossed over, briefly, during formal education, formal because it is designed to form. The Internet is here to fill in those weak and blank spots without the Tinseltown touches, but you have to seek or you shall never find. I will even go so far as to say you have to know suffering to find out why suffering exists. Suffering, great suffering, has always been around and knowing it only comes though identifying with suffering because you suffer. Identification with suffering can only happen if you get those stars out of your eyes. You have to have blown your life repeatedly to understand no matter what you do and where you go suffering is a natural part of life in this world for every one of us except those people who don't think they suffer because they have hope and belief to keep them from cashing in their chips. I wouldn't worry about them, they are an anomaly to mankind. They've always been around and plan on going to the grave wrapped in a shroud of marshmellow denial regardless of whatever lives they led. There are too many categories in which this group falls to mention them all. I will say these are the invested who do anything to please, typically we call them errand boys, clerks and mostly we know of them as enablers.

Squatters camp California 1936 by Dorothea Lange

It does appear that with each passing day the gates are closing a little more rapidly each time you look and the recourse to complete work camp enslavement and elimination of the needy, sick and elderly cannot happen on any lesser scale than what we see taking place in these energy wars. We don't win wars anymore because the people being warred upon know their enemy well. This has not always been the case, it is only with the advent of 4th generation warfare (the elimination of face to face linear combat where anything goes) and nonhuman weaponry we were able to enter into the state of winless warring at all. Honor vanished, if it ever existed, replaced with disgrace and never ending defeat. Now, with world population at an all time high and expected to increase, the conquering of bordered masses of human souls is impossible, no matter how much money is to be made, no matter how much death, disease, suffering, outright theft and occupations of puppet governments, no matter the resources at stake, there are simply too many bright and clever people applying their hearts, minds and skills to these operations for the aggressors to accomplish exactly whatever it was they planned and the warmakers, as you know, are underwriting their performances of power while balancing spectacular, ultimately unmanageable deficits.

The best empire can do is foment civil war and sneak around behind the scenes while hope is warring with belief. Oh they feared that loudly according to the pundits promoting Rumsfeld in video clips denouncing civil war as absolutely the one element they did not want and yet that is their only way, the last card to play and not even that last card worked in Iraq and it sure won't work anywhere else considering the foibles of ego gone wild playing out in Afpak and anywhere else in the Sustainwesternizationistans. The greatest failure of the regals is their inability to recognize mankind's sentience and durability to survive in spite of suffering. That link by the way contains Linh Dinh's message, but Counterpunch displays it more easily without the photo download wait. I strongly suggest you peek and when you are done then visit his blog for visuals. No one can say cities are any worse off than rural municipalities, each has its own flavor of suffering which overall is desperation as hope and belief show themselves to be useless push backs against the inevitable.

If we were in a stage of our evolution where cruelty was banished out of sight and mind, which is in part what empire historically promotes so we won't interfere, we would not be able to reconcile suffering in terms that fit in with our lifestyles (strange word - zeitgeist alert) and would ignore it as some alien noise from the outside that had nothing to do with us. All of that changed, again thanks to the web and thanks to the overpopulous amping of efforts to control and coerce brought to us by the same technological development that make the Internet possible. This is yet another take on the double edge sword of being alive during the great toboggan downhill slide of Peak Everything. In Peak Everything we play musical chairs everyday, every sleepless night under a comforter of dreams while nothing is done to alleviate even minimally the collapsing of social order.

In the world of our dreams we are replacing the missing chair, giving of ourselves without restraints, sharing our tables and sitting at the tables of our friends, all without wishful thinking, but creating the best of ourselves, the humanities, the things that last, the passing on to future generations real survival skills and the realities of our pasts, our love and our nurturing in ways that will see them into eternity - the way it was meant to be without making up useless phrases and deifying false gods because none of that is needed to be truly human. The world of our dreams will never come about without honesty, tireless compassion and the absence of shame, paranoia and guilt. As long as we bear guilt for our ruinous investments in nonsense we remain tied to the abusive wheel with which we steer all species into oblivion. In the world of our dreams we recognize the right of everything to exist alongside us without taking advantage because we are all that we need to be exactly as we are and always have been. And yet, in spite of all we think we know, don't know and learn, see and experience, what is IS. There is nothing else.

Why anyone, especially at this point in time, would entertain hope and belief is beyond me. Sure, there is the occasional feel good human interest story put there to sustain the wishful. After all, it is the wishful making up quite a lot of the sub-party clans that you will note have not been able to get through their agendas, sadly making laughing stocks of themselves as if they are nothing more than another television junk reality show. Ask yourself just whom exactly sponsors these shows and why.

Last word: It is a HUGE tragedy among us that intelligent, decent people can put up a very direct and truthful blog post only to rescind it hours later on the grounds naked, unvarnished truth will bring them only deeper and more immediate suffering. Such events tell us the truth of our present and are omens of what we can expect this new year to bring.

the gift that keeps on giving

2010-12-17T15:39:00.000-08:00

You can't always get what you want, But if you try sometimes you just might find, You just might find, You get what you need, ah yes ... The Rolling Stones

The weather in my region has been all over the charts, I'd almost expect summer next week, except snow is predicted and the temps are way down, but lush green grass carpets the canyons and fallen leaves blanket the drive and deck. Spring and autumn have come together to welcome winter, officially on the 21st of this month. Cullen would have loved these grasses and I cannot help but think of him while I'm walking Bernie when we always bagged genuine organic grass for The Little Guy. Normally, I couldn't do that until early spring, like March. Is this how its going to be from here on out? Seasons interwoven with each other, the more painful aspects of each dominating? Its getting very interesting. My latest theory on twirling chemtrails (definitely not art) is they are contracted to disperse industrial smog aka hiding the ugly secret we may be far worse off than we think ... Of course you are aware that no one denies Climate Chaos anymore unless its in the comment section of a tinseltown website appealing to IQs under 80: "Why is it so cold in global warming?" Heh.

Our beloved Scrappy Scrapwood turned me onto the following which could have been written for each of us, answering the old question of why so many Americans are self-unaware, emotionally stunted and in a near constant state of denial undertowed by sleepless anxieties. Short answer is because they are force taught the wrong thing at the wrong time, the very time they should be exploring, using their imaginations and developing their creativity. Here is some of Scrap's borrowed wisdom which he reminded me [...] its not for us, its for our children and our grandchildren:

From: The Wisdom of Hands Blog

Member Whole

Froebel's concept of Gliedganzes or "member-whole" was an important part of his educational philosophy. It means that a child is not merely a child but also a member of a family, a community, a state and a nation. Aristotle and Hegel both discussed the same notion, and for Froebel the idea helped to explain what he had observed in nature.
"The fundamental law of vegetable life is that each successive stage of development is a higher growth of the preceding one--e.g., the petals are transformed ordinary leaves, the stamens and pistils transformed petals. Each successive formation present the essential nature of the plant in a more subtle garb, until at last it seems clothed only in a delicate perfume."
Consistent with this thought, Froebel believed that "to become conscious of self is the first business of the child and the whole business of man."

What if we as teachers, parents, guardians and promoters of wisdom and growth were to see children in their full dimensions, not as mere children, but as growing into membership of family, community, state and nation, and more? Assisting that unfolding of consciousness is the most important goal of education. The following is from Susan E. Blow who founded the first public school kindergarten in the US.
The greatest mistakes in education are rooted in the failure to recognize and conform to the different stages of natural development. Educational theorists are constantly pointing out this error; educational practice is constantly repeating it. Notwithstanding all that has been said and written, we still make knowledge our idol, and continue to fill the child's mind with foreign material, under the gratuitous assumption that at a later age he will be able, through some magic transubstantiation, to make it a vital part of his own thought. This is like loading his stomach with food which he can not digest, under the delusive hope that he may be able to digest it when he is a man. It is forcing the mind to move painfully forward under a heavy weight, instead of running, leaping and flying under the incitement of its own energy and the allurement of its own perceived ideal. The attempt to force a premature activity of reason can result only in repulsion of his sympathies and the stultification of his mind.
There have been a number of articles recently about how desperately misinformed people are, how little they know about science, geography, and/or any other subject. They have a huge number of deeply held opinions about everything, nonetheless. Much of what we see in the media regarding moronic political discourse, anger toward academia and science, the calling of names like leftist and socialist, the fixation in the media with characters like balloon boy, Joe the plumber and Sarah Palin are the direct consequences of the schooling that Susan E. Blow describes. Her words were written in 1894. Can it be that by neglecting the education of our children's hands, we are turning their minds to mush? There is a direct one-to-one correlation between the decline of the manual arts in education and the rapid rise of the American pinhead.

Froebel, like other German educators of the time, was influenced by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who said, "“Each has his own happiness in his hands, as the artist handles the rude clay he seeks to reshape it into a figure; yet it is the same with this art as with all others: only the capacity for it is innate; the art itself must be learned and painstaking”

I will harp on a point I have made many times in the blog that relates to Ms. Blow's point of conforming to natural stages of development. In Finland students become better readers in 37 1/2 percent less time by beginning at age 8. Here in the US, we seem desperate to reside in idiocy. [...]

Got that? Now, here we are in the holidays which in addition to the prototypical holiday behaviors, always brings up a few tattered memories of Christmas past. Confession: I admit to a slight sadness the one thing I really wanted I never got, realizing what I wanted I would have to give myself in my own way. As the years rolled along I did just that, but it was too late. You must begin ballet training very early, between three and five, no older than eight, if you are going to dance professionally with a successful company. All those childhood nights after school, the tears, the anguish, the cruel words and ambiance of abuse permeated the dining room homework sessions as I sweated out memorizing multiplication tables hating the deal that was my setup for failure. If I made an A+ in math I would get ballet lessons, which never happened. To see the variations of the Nutcracker now, I see what I could have been doing and am not. Instead, in art school, I supplemented my course work with dance training, I loved every minute, was a natural, made "A"s effortlessly, every time, but even then it was far too late. Don't get me wrong, art IS my raison d'etre, but it always existed alongside my other gift, the one I was denied until I could earn the means and the scholarships to do it myself.

Did something like this happen to Edward Degas?

One day helping out in the principal's office I peeked at my file. I saw my IQ score. There are nonsense rules against seeing it, if I been caught, I'd have been punished. Detentions or notes home, something ghastly and embarrassing, but the deed was done and life suddenly much improved. I suppose it was hard for my teachers to reconcile how such a child could not memorize multiplication tables, but they didn't know about the deals being made over homework when I longed with all my being to be doing arabesques and petite burrees on point. My longing obliterated the value of whatever lay before me.

The truth was, and I figured this out early too, dancers were thought of as fallen women, burlesque performers, at least as my parent's zeitgeist trained them. I must have been raised to be rich, even though we were not rich that I could see by any means, have servants, nannies for the children, spend summers sailing at a family compound, perhaps they imagined me a surgeon's wife, provided he was well educated and from a good family, mostly I think I was supposed to be off to lunch with other rich ladies and write checks to popular charities at society balls. I know a lot of women who were raised to be exactly the same thing, unconsciously transmitted to them by equally well-intentioned mothers and fathers. Sometimes we joke with one another at our mutual reversals of fortune and the myths we were born into which fell drastically apart once we were on our own, because nothing we learned in school gave us skills to deal with real life. It was as if we had been raised to do nothing while appearing to be doing something beneficial. Everything I really needed to know I've learned by the seat of my jeans.

We cannot change the past, we can only move on and make the best of what we've got. I don't blame my parents for their child rearing practices, my father abroad for months, my mother sliding down the social ladder from socialite to department store saleslady, repeatedly relocated far from anything she'd ever known, they were only operating within the sole system available in their gradually diminishing circumstances, however, the next generation and the generations following need our help right now as they enter their journey into a new world with new systems and options previously unheard of or lock into lifestyles previously demeaned. Here is another very important and helpful persuader. When you really think about the system as it exists today, anything healthy about the typical American education is being slashed from state budgets, so why even bother? I have much praise for homeschooling and even more for children who are comfortable in their own skin, free to go all the way into their areas of interest as far as they want. Is there a problem with that? The only problem is the same problem unacknowledged inside the preoccupied din of the ever-creative errand boys operating as delivery men for the gnashing beast demanding obedience.

As recessions rose and laid dormant only to reoccur, what one person once snubbed as beneath them, i.e.; not good enough, became another person's valued employment as the little people en masse are at last forced back against the wall to accept total loss as normal everyday phenomena. Conversely, what was once refined and respected is now uniformly trashed as FUBAR and vice versa: any job will do, flip burgers, push mops, greet consumers, scrub toilet stalls, who cares, everyone has to eat. The people who perform those jobs that Americans wouldn't do, deserve our sincere respect for doing them now. Thus, looking around, you'll see the revolution is already in full swing. It is also violent, but not what we were taught a violent revolution was in world history class. Now violence takes place in protests, pitted against masked Darths and their thuggish, brutal street tortures, it takes place in undeclared wars far away from our vision, it happens in the too-frequent and violent crimes discussed in my last post, the kind of crime people resort to committing when they simply explode from a lifetime of abuse via suppression, backwards and upside down to the needs of the authentic self - that real self deep inside us who reaches out unthinkingly to carry a crying baby dolphin to shore as happened in the active phase of the BP debacle. The kind of crimes that are a release from and attack against the abusive, often religious morality imposed from birth that denied whomever else it was the criminal could have been had he/she been treated with respect, insight to interest and encouragement of those interests, exemplified by the tragic fate of Shaquan Duley and her young sons:

[...] What is it that makes one child oblivious to abuse and another cower and fall ill at the moment its shadow appears over the horizon? What is it that allows one person to be unfeeling towards someones suffering but another experience compassion? [...]

As with everything else, if we want something to happen we have to do it ourselves. Its too late for many of us reading here, our pasts are already yesterday's tire treads petroglyphed along forgotten trails, a permanent reminder those who inhabit our future might someday find themselves travelling the same destructive paths. We can make it easier for them if homo sapiens are to survive. And should they survive, which I am not exactly confident they will, we can at least allow them to possess peace of mind and meaningful lives free of irresponsible value judgements and at all times fully aware of self-worth and skilled in the creation and stewardship required for sustaining life on Earth. If we cannot leave them material things, as used to be and still is for a certain minority, a yardstick for some kind of unearned accomplishment, we can give them a better trip. That is the only gift that matters.

Coincidentally, from Visible's essay today, A Transmission from the Visible Planes:

If your idea of loving someone is to give them things in place of the love, you’re going to have a front row seat through the years to what that policy accomplishes. [...]

Photo: Degas oil c. Google Images

crime and consumption inside the pyramid of limited growth

2010-12-04T18:23:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the end of 2010 AD, the hottest year on record where climate catastrophe expresses itself in ice storms, blizzards, tornadoes, droughts, massive displacement from record floods, the unleashing of the Gulf Stream, the death of our oceans and slaughter of sea life, as the manipulators of the markets trawl the planet for hidden treasure. The wars and threats, the sly turns of phrase concealing nefarious intent, the untying of entire social fabrics into homelessness and penury, human against human, the survival of the most unfit with imitation mullahs, Jesus theme parks, the celebrated Sarah Palin gaffing with the stars ... Next?

I had to get into town yesterday, prepare my mind, stagger my lists of our most dire needs, the idea was a quick turn around, the vision: brief inconveniences, but a zoom-thru. I was wrong. Every day is Black Friday now, every retailer anticipating the every need of the breathless consumer, too consumed in consuming to gift wrap the items being purchased. Thus, gift wrapping service is back, restructured in prototypical style for today's overworked workers - such as men's plaid pajama pants prewrapped for your convenience in a matching plaid flannel, gold-corded drawstring bag. "Just throw it under the tree". Many people will. (Then why bother to wrap anything at all?) I looked at them briefly, in sideways glances appearing to look beyond them, wondering what their lives must be like. I wondered now that unemployment benefits are on hiatus again, WHAT were they thinking standing between the cashier and the card reader, ashen-faced, waiting for approval. Approval. And believe you me, this place was not Neiman's. No, this prefab aluminum freestanding HVAC'd energy whale was only one of millions dotting the face of our tortured planet providing an all under one roof multi-aisled mall. You may call them by their brand names, but they bear little separation from their engineering department's prototype illustrated in the engineering manual belonging to the mother ship. That is why they all look alike and feel alike. The little guys just can't get on board unless they are too absorbable to fail, meaning they statistically clocked-in with a profitable niche and bear AAA rated potential for mass consumption suitable for whichever targeted age and income demographic is most available for pocket picking. Enter the Marketeers. This too is all in the manual as a No Child Left Behind sort of thing.

Everything out there has its place in someones shopping cart, maybe not ours, but someone who doesn't know when enough is enough. Oh, I'm sure they mean well, but they have no, not even a basic low-level unacknowledged passing concern, self-awareness or grasp of free will to hold themselves back from dubious decisions. You could surmise they've operated on auto-pilot throughout eternity. Such is the round scripted lifestyle of which the human being is but a square peg on which minute-by-minute the chisels work to make us fit the prototype. The model. I passed children's dresses trying to find an exit and overheard the clerk tell a customer, "I'm taking this off the model because I have to have it, but come back later, we're restocking tonight." Actually, I was amazed I heard anything above the roar of gnashing consumption. It has a sound of its own like a sports stadium filled with puking migraine sufferers and crying babies.

Since it is impossible to shape us any more than we already shape ourselves, it chafes - some a great deal more than others (those in particular who go along to get along, the incurious) as we see in the almost daily, once infrequent, bizarre crimes against other people they inflict as if their actions are fully justified by helpless lapses into sheer irrationality. I hate to say this, but these home grown crimes are becoming commonly more gruesome as they unfold. Fact: Too many rats in a cage will fight to the death. We now expect stealth plotting, preplanned multiples of misleading illogical excuses, gang rape, death and dismemberment as another extension of WWT (worldwide terror).

For this many people populating our dying planet squeezed under unbearable restrictions growing stricter, like a house where the windowless rooms grow smaller, tighter, in every dimension, the unbalanced, the beaten-down, the confused, well, somethings gotta blow and many are blowing now. In the Culture of Extinction (Charles' title), the tight lids "always-misfits" hide under are coming unglued. They seem to arrive from diseased (dis-eased) roots, early on find solace in imitation, but poisoned by BGH and weed killer, never fitting into any mold whatsoever. They grew misanthropic over time except for what survival for themselves could be appropriated through innocent others, whether in a volcanic release of roiling under the surface pent-up energies or a pure expression of hatred of humanity manifesting through acting-out a perceived satanic part in the great comedy. Couple this stark void of self-awareness and lack of free will with all else happening environmentally and politically throughout the globe, sprinkle on stubborn chemtrails, the unpunished crimes of political criminals, increasing indebtedness and a representative-self dictating survival by any means within immediate reach and you get deformed, crippled behaviors that by their very grossness, further infect and upend everything surrounding them never to return to anything resembling even remote stability. Prison and programs are mere placeholders because the thing unrecognized is the healing required to eliminate these crimes against the innocent comes only from within. As long as everyone going along to get along appears to survive in the Culture of Extinction, the example from on high set in stone and widely approved, the crippled mannequin, the failed prototype, still imitating, sees himself as deserving his role in that culture. Giving vent to his rage is just a small part of an evolving malevolent philosophy likely glimpsed during the formative years with self-inflicted unhealthy and repetitive doses of pcp tranched with speed.

Ambient abuse turned to domestic violence is always wildly exacerbated by money issues. Its like cremating a simmering pot. The slightest and most unexpected thing sets them off. Thus, sitting directly under our noses we have a huge violent domestic crisis drowned out by apples and androids and yet, why this is so is rarely questioned. Every cultural trigger still exists. The safety remains on off.

Somehow, in the immediate aftermath of 911, I came across a plastic flag pin and wore it. I participated in the lights on all night solidarity of the masses. I stayed online, seeking information while the TV alternated between hurricane warnings and Bushisms. This went on for about two days, soundtracked by hammers slamming up storm shutters until hurricane pundits were all that was on 24 hours straight, drowning out the bullhorns and crazy pilots. And then the power went out. The winds howled, the foundations shook, the trees were breaking, sheets of rain beat its way into every crevice, the animals racing around the interior, horrified. It came to me our present was all that mattered and would always be all that matters. Everything else is extraneous manufactured prototypical stuffing except for the fundamental basics, our loved ones peace of mind which means of course, we have to be there for them in whatever way is possible. This is why, especially in these harsh times, we dutifully get up every day and square off with dragons so that our loved ones will not have the same struggle.

We know just by observing the direction daily drastic events are heading, things are going to get worse. Again, adjusting your program in support of your loved ones is priority. Some of us do it naturally as we've always done and some of us will need to force the effort. If you should find yourself feeling like rusty brillo, short and abrasive, swallow your pride. A great love of my life, a brilliant orphaned, highschool dropout with a remarkable sensitivity to the complex nuances of jazz once said "Revolution begins at home..." I would only add that revolution first begins with self-awareness.

I am thoroughly depleted by the bickering, contradictory Sopranos and their spiteful, worshiping errand boys so we won't even go there this week. There are other more helpful and compassionate places to be.

from dust to dust: broken and breaking

2010-11-25T22:28:00.000-08:00

... The first U.S. census, in 1790, recorded four million Americans. By 2000, this number had grown to 281 million. It is expected to reach 310 million by 2010 and 439 million^[17] by 2050. ... Demographics of the United States

By the time my homesteading chores for the day are done, the light is gone and evening wrapup chores require my presence. I've been keeping up in moments grabbed between one thing and another and the mood for something more stimulating vanishes behind everything that is broken. My news for you in general is nothing will change, what you see is what you get and worse, what we don't know is already playing out and not yet sugar-coated sufficiently to enact at full throttle, but give it time. The days are like an old calendar from early cartoons, flying off the pages, one after another, faster and faster, D day for change has come and gone so many times and still nothing changes for the better. The wars are never ending. The monetary crises, world wide, continue, falter and stand again for repeats until everyone forgot how it got this way in the first place. If you read the items on my blog list over there on the right, daily, you're seeing things much the same way I am.

Among the things that are backwards and upside down, we do not know when we have it good and we also do not know when we have it bad or recognize in all its totality every step down into the cellar of life where choice and simple contentment don't exist. How many foreclosees do you think are saying to themselves on this very day "Gee, we never should have left that little apartment with the low rent." Too many human beings are simply unable to read the tea leaves, pay attention, interpret the omens, trust what they see with their own eyes. Certainly, that would free up evil to do exactly as it pleases without interference as is happening in full color 3-D wherever you look or don't look because who really wants to believe the situation will never get any better before our time is up? That's where religion comes in, candidates and celebrities, the political and the powerful - as a diversion, a grasping at hope, the heroin of placebos and as John Micheal Greer points out "lullabies" sung to us while evil plots to rule the Universe. He was speaking of green self-help books, but of course, those are only profit-venued substitutes applying themselves to the popularity of mass paranoia. When the situation began to crack, most of you reading here today were already aware of it and what did you do? Vote? Made a drive-thru deposit into your bank account? Filled your sheath of prescriptions? Waited in the Wal*Mart cashier lines? Even as the black boxes did what they wanted, still you secretly hoped, following the dictates of your representative-self? Even though you'd read the tea leaves seemingly accurately, even though you'd been online well over a decade or more ... searching, reading, commenting, obviously little if anything you thought you'd learned stuck. Maybe you said to yourself "Something is missing, there must be something else?"

We have a few FYI items that I have not seen on the ~~news~~ Lullabies & Possibilities pages. And, by the way, going to the news sites is more than surreal, it isn't news, its suggestion - "likelihoods" or "possibilities" that will never happen such as the administration considering the public's outrage over body scanners (How is it there are no scanners at the DC or Miami airports?) or Tom Delay spending a century behind prison bars or else its just more mergers and ~~takeovers~~ acquisitions of the small swallowed alive by the big. Possibility, the iffy preposterous proposition, is what we read and call news. Not even your everyday little people thug crimes are genuinely newsworthy because the officials in charge refuse to divulge what they know fearing damage to their case. Where in the news is there any mention the deadly Cholera epidemic in Haiti is rumored among the Haitian people to have been brought to their disaster-aftermath suffering by peacekeepers when the bacteria never existed previously in Haiti? The rumor grew legs through official investigation of damaged waste pipes delivered into Haiti's water supply and a sometimes contractor who made cleanups once, when tents were erected and once again, after the rumor broke. And another, especially weird item rarely brought before newsreaders' eyes, equally unfathomable and disturbing in its implications, political and otherwise, Afghanistan is one of a tiny handful of countries with the highest fertility rates on the planet, matched by Niger. Watch out Niger. We are to surmise, none of the above matters now. If it was not on the news, it isn't real.

Since we started looking, its always been obvious we have too many people on this planet. It reminds me of what can occur when you are caught in a stampeding crowd, anything can happen. Sure, you are fortunate to escape with your life intact, but later on you begin to perceive that everything changed and it isn't going back to anything you ever knew. We are now literally strangers in a strange land. This is not helped by certain bloggers who put up scare links that lead you to stories that mention only a vague possibility referring to the original scare headline you followed. It is worsened faster than the situation worsens by itself to have some think one thing, others think another until there is no cohesion to what we know or don't know. Doing that is abetting evil. For what? To increase readership who will buy into their blog ads? Well, hey, then say so up front so we stop wasting our time. There is not much left that has not been tainted. Maybe a few uninhabitable spots somewhere on the globe where no profit is available, but will be when a technology comes along that mines money from frozen dirt. Although, there is now a start up attempting to bottle glacier melt. Note I say "attempting", as in "possibility". Yet, what is really happening is hidden in plain sight. If we go back in time, how many know where Karzai came from? How can these world leaders allow themselves to be jerked around while their countries are bulldozed by drones and Abrams tanks and 99% of their already indigent population has no idea why? Meanwhile in the superpower, everyone you speak to hasn't any better grasp on the situation, either. You have to wonder how the meetings between these leaders unfold. Do they speak to each other daily? Hang out together during the off times? Who is working for whom? This is ludicrous, isn't it. A fake leader shows up three times at peace talks and vanishes with his personal appearance cash. Little people like us (and the victims) cannot understand what passes for leadership now. Its too ugly, too cheap, too far-fetched and always morphing into lame paperbacks with cumbersome finales. All of it a monumental waste of humanity, an erasure of all that came before such world leaders egotistically make their mark only to see that mark liquidated under the next generation of world leaders.

Honestly, how can we count our blessings on Thanksgiving as the annihilation of humanity/animalia/natural resources/environmental catastrophe escalates on the bloodiest, most unimaginably brutal scale ever while financial wars take down what remains standing through globewide economic shock? What blessings? Piece by piece, brick by brick our lives are being intentionally dismantled as has happened throughout history it is happening now in the centrifugal force carny ride of overpopulation and growing ever larger by the minute. This much is easily recognizable in spite of lullabies.

We are, for the most part, good people, well-intentioned and ineffectual against the tides. Our flaw is our goodness. History was his/her story, not ours, but examine the parallels to your own existence and that of how our planet is disintegrating and it begins to form something solid verging on truth. You can spend the remainder of your journey seeking an answer, but the truth will hide until you are ready to understand. There is something bigger that we can't see now. We are too easily distracted and the distractions are incessantly increasing by design. We get in the way of that which we seek. If the reality of what is happening suddenly came upon us, we would be unable to hold the thought, perhaps we are not supposed to know because such understanding is too cruel, too cold and holds no lasting appeal.

Everyone likes to have something to look forward to, but what happens when there is nothing but exponential evil to come and you know it? What then? You simply continue exactly as you are, priced out of existence, elbowing for breath, lost in a sea of threats and dire possibilities, but at least you are alive, or are you? At some point, you will consider that issue, the severity and rapidity of the worsening crises demands you examine everything. At this point in the revealing, what else will present itself?

I don't expect everyone to read all the links, but if you do not visit them, you do your intellect disservice.

come rain or come shine: updated

2010-11-08T23:19:00.000-08:00

For the update, please scroll to end of post.
-------------------------------------------------

Winter is hard upon us now. Snow predicted but hasn't shown up ... yet. I know when the fog clears later this week, the mountain tops will be white, ah, make that light brown as Big Agra knows no season. The animals housed out of doors have been thickening their coats, except for Bernie who is now the proud owner of a black turtleneck sweater for serious winter weather. He reminds me of a flying ace with his flap ears and back rings around his eyes. I promise I will not get him boots. Gawd. Basset paws ARE all-weather boots. Now, Jake, the Aussie-Shepard, already grew his organic outerwear an Eskimo would envy. He's not a sweater guy.

All the talk about hyperinflation going around must be scaring the heebeejeebies out of more than a few Internet enthusiasts. I don't really think about it, maybe I should, but it seems as if I've been living in a hyperinflated economy for a while now and we regularly scrape bottom. When someone starts up the hand wringing over "What shall we do? Eeeek!", I can't feel all that sympathetic or even empathetic, not when the Iraqis probably wish that's all they had to face from us, a devastated economy is rather different than warships appearing out of nowhere during your wedding party. I don't want to understate what will happen to our population however. As in Palestine, our obese classes are being put on a diet, by mandate. The figure I quoted a few posts ago about 3 in 4 Americans will be obese by 2020 can now be rewritten (it always was rewritten, we just weren't in on it) to no one will be obese by 2020, period, since the effects of a failed system according the various charts show the top tiers being affected somewhat as well. By now we should have learned to enjoy rice with veggies and carnivores satisfied with rice, veggies and minuscule meat morsels. Last time I dined in Haiti, where every menu is the same because you get what they have, despite the menus, we ate fried rice. "I'll have the snapper creole." And out came fried rice. One thing I have not seen are the charts from our statistic-crazed statisticians concerning exactly how financial world war is expected to appear in third world nations. I think they don't want to talk about it because that would put some truth to the recovery story. Following the Mumbai hotel crisis, I came to find Mumbai was formerly known as Bombay. And you will recall what Bombay meant before outsourcing ... I'm sure that part is still there, its more that we never hear about because we're well on our way to becoming the new Bombay, while sliding farther and farther away from Mumbai, the new Wall Street, the new arms purchaser to the tune of sixth largest weapons buy from us, as usual. You will recall when Pakistan held sway in that arena, of all the countries, fer cryin' out loud, Bush via Colin Powell rewarded Musharraf's homeland with Honorary Major Non-NATO Ally status. Reading further, you come to the part where it reads "for the purpose of weapons purchasing". They never veer off the course, do they.

... Major non-NATO allies are eligible for priority delivery of defense material and the purchase, for instance, of depleted uranium anti-tank rounds.
They can stockpile US military hardware, participate in defense research and development programs and benefit from a US government loan guarantee program, which backs up loans issued by private banks to finance arms exports. ...

So that's what it takes to be an ally. As if you didn't know. It takes a lot of skin, a lot of moxy and a lot of dining and dancing. Too bad our Peace Laureate couldn't take Condoleezza along to play (poorly) some piano during the dancing girls part, but you know, he's got his lawful dancing girl already and three is not a good mixer at these occasions, occasions which could be done on the cheap with their Blackberries since all that is happening is another deal going down. It is a big deal. It will some day not long from now change the borders of the entire ME. I ask you now, how is this going to improve the crisis in our own homeland? Will this deal provide lower costs for nutritious food, medical care and shelter from the elements for our peeps? Are we, the little people, going on a diet so that India can fly wing on wing formations with the Nevada gamers over Afpak? And the people of India, what return on this deal do they get? Clue: its not a bargain with Monsanto backing off. More like another helping of fried rice, if there is any rice available in India anymore. I would rather have seen our Peace Laureate pack a C130 with antibiotics and sandbags, tents, blankets and Sterno along with Doctors Without Borders and land in Pakistan's Cholera country handing out survival supplies mending the misery and loss. Since that requires humility and love, we will never see that come to be. We will see a lot of suffering here, too.

Concealment on any scale creates suffering. Give me a scale and I will give you suffering, even when it appears no suffering is taking place. There are also those who suffer that have no idea they are suffering with all manner of excuse why they are safe and satisfied going along to get along. I think you have to be alone, away from it all, for awhile in America to learn suffering. In a group, its too easy to get shot down and shown ridiculous time wasting dogma supporting a belief in mass happiness, in which case you will be shown hate, prejudice, religious nonsense, your Constitutional rights and so forth. Do ask them "What rights?" Yet, it is these people exactly who fight internal wars with their friends, coworkers, partners, families and pastors, floating the lie, worshipping at the alter of myths that never were. Mrs. So and So down the block passed away in her own bed last winter from hypothermia. And Mr. So and So passed away from starvation shorty thereafter whereupon their little house was immediately and legally hoovered by the bank to be resold under the abusive program known as Reverse Mortgage. This winter, we will see a radical leap in the death statistics of all those Mr. and Mrs. So and Sos, everything from alcohol poisoning to fire to suicide. Will the corporatocracy realize they are endangering a dedicated purchasing block? No. They are beyond control. Once the decree has come through the ranks, it is simply too time consuming to spend money on any revisions, and time costs money. Time.

What is time?

I had the unusual experience driving through the heart of Big Agra this past Saturday evening as the earth rotated away from the sun and was a little surprised, only a little, to see the illegals and harvesting apparatus out in full. How silly of me to think they observe night or Sundays or weekends or holidays at all. Do they take off Cinco de Mayo? I'll let you know next spring. Of course, you know already the trains, those double decker livestock moving louvered cars and refrigerated boxcars, high in the air on tires, chained to a movable platform linking to seventy five or more of the same tottering structures moving along at 35 mph, were running back and forth, one after another, heading in to pick up, heading out to deliver. All this has to be an inevitable, but necessary part of feeding the masses and sponsored by the little people. They soon will find, if all the terror talk about hyperinflation has any merit, which of course it does as all that wilting greenery in clamshells has now split into half size clamshells for the same price as the full size, they-can't-afford-any-of-it. What's worse, they will find the means to afford slushies and chili cheeseburgers on gluey sesame seed buns. I guess it doesn't matter, its all roundup ready for the tables of the ignorant and the latch-on window trays of the obedient.

The real heart breaker here is that nothing is going to stop the Onward Christian Soldiers Crusade of Madness. Nothing. One can almost forget about it out here in the middle of nowhere, except there is always something to remind you, something like the holiday season and to whom and what you wanted to gift with presents. I am beginning to think this whole Christmas present sideshow was created by retailers to draw us into spending which drew us into overspending which was temporarily resolved by credit and then karma came along and their seasons are statistically lackluster while the mall landlords are foreclosed. If you see a person selling matches in the snow with a pup in a turtleneck sweater outside Wal*Mart this year, it will be me. Although, I might try a complaint booth of the lemonade stand variety in order to honor your comments.

If we become ill, hurt, maimed, we are on our own. If we lose our way, go crazy, break down or are attacked, again, we are on our own. Did you even think 911 would translate into complete disconnection from life as you'd always known it? You will recall that those buses that finally grabbed Katrina survivors out of the stadium at gunpoint left for parts unknown where they were still unwanted guests in their own country. They were an unwelcome burden. You are free to tell me I am looking at the glass half empty but there will be no golden twilight years ever again. All that is left now are ads for elite pleasures still running on old contracts.

Is there an up side to any of this? Only the upside down and backwards recently mentioned by Visible. I'm sorry to say that if we are ever going to get a breather, one: it won't be here and two: the slate will have to be wiped clean as we are already seeing happening to the life of species extincted by the day.

Let me get this straight, why isn't India happy with having our jobs and western lifestyle, isn't that enough? Maybe it wasn't, maybe we ran through everything already and need more? You'll hear that question which is a partial truth, its more like dealer sees a market, dealer moves in.

UPDATE: Beyond the ending statement in the above essay concerning dealer sees a market, dealer moves in, we have the head twist which is First, dealer creates the market. That's right, the whole game is based on identification and development of vulnerability, creating a space in which that vulnerability becomes insatiably addicted while appearing strong, but the hidden weakness has been chronicled and remains. Then the dealer moves in, everybody plays nice until someone/something crosses the line and all hell breaks loose with the goods we supplied. Its an old, tired story. Of course there is a better way, but we will never see it as long as the old story still works for the easy money crowd.

fever in the funk house

2010-10-29T21:23:00.000-07:00

... Work and work for love and sex
Ain't you hungry for success, success, success, success
Does it matter? (Shattered) Does it matter?...
M. Jagger | K. Richards

It may be the wrong time to make a new entry here, or not. Comments are still rolling along on the last one, I'm enjoying them, but we hardly talk about the posts, we always stray. Therefore, I appreciate it when someone refers to the post in their comment, although that in no way negates the amazing things passing across our horizon having little to do with anything posted on this page that come around on each post's comment page. I know I am just as guilty of going off topic as you are. Our interests are remarkably varied and who can deny the abundance of things that require group discussion, especially in the Revealing? A perfect example of what I mean would be Susanah's "home school or unschool" dilemma, or our Rasta's mastery of survival on his rain-riddled Jamaican property. This so called "blog" in more than a few ways is a mystery to me. It ~~almost~~ self-sustains. In the past, when comments slowed to a halt, I took it as a sign it was time to speak up. Now, I don't know. It is just a feeling that those who lurk and never break into the conversation would like to see something in this space, more than links to other blogs, more than changing art and photos. And by this time, the other feeling that interferes with the first, I've learned that this is the wrong time of day to do what I find myself doing. I have routines, like taking Bernie out, taking a treat to Chip the Appaloosa, bringing wheelbarrows of logs to the deck for easy reach as evening temperature drop and drop ... however, that gets solved in the same manner as always, I'm going to skip and jump around. It may all turn out incomprehensibly off the wall as each new paragraph has nothing to do with the last, since I will likely recall something important while pulling Bernie the Basset, translated bred to be a bunny hunter, away from his intended prey. I usually come to you late at night after the house is sleeping. Today, I'm taking advantage of the last few mild days of fall before the snow descends and Arctic parkas must be snapped and zipped before stepping into the fog. Besides, there is just too much to nail down in one post. Its too much. Overkill kills. Life is now some low budget late night Halloween horror flick where the dude's head spins and his eyeballs fall in and out on springs as Darth inflicts perfectly legal steroidal blows drawing blood, prolapsing organs.

Charles is right again when he says what we have here is special. Do you know how comfy it is to be able to say "my hard drive meltdown" and have everyone know what I mean? BTW, our beloved bolanath is in that Vanilla Sky free fall at this time as well, but he assures me he has it under control for a soft landing. Techology has its flaws. Every now and then one of us crashes hard and it disrupts everything in our routines. Then we gotta scramble and think and rework our values - again. I still have not completely recovered having lost my very tidy painting system by way of the dog chewed printer cord, the loss of photoshop, hundreds of important links and only the Creator knows how many people's email addresses were fried. But when we want something badly enough, we make do. We workaround. All of life is a workaround. Tedious, laughable, infuriating, but bolstered by a barrier I refuse to cross which is that of regret over our personal tragedies, losses, unfortuate circumstances which are usually unfortunate only to us. When that waste of energy creeps up, its best to concentrate on Haiti and Pakistan and earthquakes and floods and cholera and the idiocy of abundant medical supplies locked up only released to victims by having an official review of the paperwork generated by a healthy caseworker who takes no for an answer. Lunacy. Heartbreaking. Are these things by design? I don't know. I only know from a few experiences with people who do casework and all of them were amazingly negligent personalities who resolved nothing.

The local and distant voting brawls are in crescendo this week. I'm getting at least two pounds of glossy coated stock squeezed into the rural gangbox daily. The printers and paper manufacturers and shippers are making a killing off this stuff. My tip to them in order to further enrich themselves would be to haunt municipal dumps and recycle the trash.

The only one I actually opened was one from the Meg Whitman circular file stack because she included photos of herself as a youth. She was actually a beautiful young woman, you could see dreams in her eyes portrayed as a person of high integrity and inviolate truths. And now, look what happened. It is beyond sad that someone running for office is so desperate they resort to advertising their gubanatorial potential through depictions of a blond bombshell representative-self that no longer exists. Is that how we got Arnold? Mister muscle moviestar? Is that how we got Obama? When its all said and done is it just all (secretly) about physical appearances? This is too gauche to mention, isn't it. And Sarah Palin, murderer of wildlife? This is what I meant about politicians being celebrities, they've managed to edge over the celebrities of tinseltown, it is fairly recent, likely by way of course, with shows like the repulsive, loud and painful Cops and broke municipalities scarfing at the stockyard auctions. Rulers must rule or they are not rulers at all and will be subject, like everyone else, including wealthy actors/actresses, to the rules. Sorry to bring that up, all the pillars of our old social order crumbled. Every once in a while a ruler crosses the line into being ruled as a show there isn't really any discrimination to it, but you'll notice these ~~marks~~ victims are all back in action in the semi-elusive time frame of the short memory media as if no one really toe-tapped in the men's room or made love to someone not his lawful wife on a powerboat gliding over Bahamian waters. Such Monkey Business is just another part of the new normal. If you pay attention you'll see what I mean. In the days of real rulers, people were drawn and quartered for less. Now, in the new normal, astounding heights of real wrongdoing are on display every single day and the rulers of every stripe show themselves affected fundamentally with a necrotic case of double standards. Why would anybody want to be a ruler? Why would anyone spend billions on becoming a ruler? It means they have completely lost their humility which explains a lot about the rules and the new rules they so love to create in showing their possession of ruling power. Rules which change Nothing for the incessant flow of our collective humanity funneled into the pockets of those rulers breathing-in that rarified oxygen wafting across the pinnacle of civilization's most magnificent achievements. No my friends, we live in Nancy Grace world these days, our new normal sponsored by Mussolini's nightmares and Jim Jones final hours. I predict a drug will be introduced at some time in the not too distant future that wipes out memory, although the overload of media might well be that drug. It bears all the hallmarks ... one trick to overcome the soma (In "Brave New World" (1932), the name of a state-dispensed narcotic producing euphoria and hallucination.) is go right to the last paragraph where it says something like the informant-turned-criminal cooperated with instructions. Another would be to ask yourself "Does it physically hurt your own head when a protester's head is smashed by boot-stompings against the pavement?"

A particularly irksome flaw in technology's short lifespan beyond the breakability of plastic parts and overheating CPU fans is the immediacy with which it outdates itself. In spite of all the claims and rave reviews and beta tests and glowing comparisons to competitor products, it still isn't enough. It must spawn new versions or become obsolete as unrealistic growth projections demand more - even though targeted consumer blocks are broke and looking towards hyperinflation. We saw this interestingly with the extinction of XP (gone for good alert), replaced by Vista replaced by WIN7 while Chrome advertises on our websearches. We saw this with the VCR. We see this with cell phones as videocams and qwerty keyboards for those who can't text fast enough before their thoughts evaporate. You might notice that the people associated with these advances are morphing into celebrity personalities worthy of headlines and entire sections in the media. HP boss come lately caught in sexual harrassment allegations, oh, Meg Whitman would never do that. We are to think she is the rare irreplaceable, ruler in waiting.

Its all too much to cast the Indigenous Grandmother's healing Net of Light over all of them and our remaining resources, although its certainly worth trying. I have found through various efforts the best time to do it is when you begin meditation. Actually, it takes you into meditation as you are in tune with one love, one heart, relaxed in limb and wide open in mind. Its best to do it in darkness, moonlight is good as are stars whether you are outdoors or inside. There is something about the dark that allows the trillions of tiny lights within the net you are envisioning that illuminates and throws down negative forces, falseness, paltry and petty cancers of the soul, the growing void of living, loving, innocent bounty thriving on this planet. The Net seems to work for everything you direct it toward, healing, compassion and overstanding.

And now, I hear the beginning of rumblings as the males ask in their various approaches, guinea pig wheeks, dog paws, nosings at the ankle, the Fireteacher peering into the fridge, "What's for dinner?" I say a grace tonight for all those who have nothing to eat.

... end transmission ...

Post title from Exile on Main Street, Jagger | Richards

As the world implodes

2010-10-19T21:56:00.000-07:00

First up, I read that the mood swinging BofA has decided to go ahead and displace more families swaggeringly confident they are in the right to do so. Their long legal arms must have assured them they've got it covered. We'll soon find out how as this latest 911 works its way through the courts. Between you and me, I've known all along there was something fishy going on because there was a chart published in the LA Times made by Realtytrac that showed all the homes in foreclosure with the typically horizontal red line zigging up a little and zagging down a little until year 2007 where that red line went straight up through the top of the chart - off the charts indeed. I saved it and looked for it many times since, but it was lost in the hard drive meltdown from last year and appears to be deleted from media archives. The past week's staggering revelations about the legalities of the paperwork on property ownership renewed my study of the situation and discovered the problems coincide with the advent of MERS. Shocking. Not. Of course you know about MERS.

From Wiki:
... MERS (Mortgage Electronic Registration Systems) ... is a privately held company that operates an electronic registry designed to track servicing rights and ownership of mortgage loans in the United States.[1]

MERS role in facilitating mortgage trading was relatively uncontroversial in its early days a decade ago but continued fallout from the subprime mortgage crisis has put MERS at the center of several legal challenges disputing the company's right to initiate foreclosures. Should these challenges succeed, the US banking industry could face a renewed need for capitalization.[4] ...

Right away, you get the picture, technology (progress, growth, electronic TRACKING) eavesdrops again, without warrants. Corporations don't need warrants? When personhood doesn't need a warrant, perhaps they can just make some citizens arrests? Hey, its not really spying, naw. An elephantine disaster has re-emerged that We the People must be responsible for cleaning up, no one has said this but that is the only way it will ever be resolved exactly as everything else is resolved, the burden of proof and the burdens of the poor pitted against huge could-care-less giants require WE have to stand over their shoulders and physically point out what is wrong with this and what to do about it and do it. We the People do not have an in house crack legal team waiting in our backyard sheds. Now all these human beings affected by this disaster are on the bandwidth all the time desperately looking for answers when the answer was there all along. While MERS is not Angelo Mozilo, MERS part in this crisis is telling: Suddenly there rose on the horizon a roster of all the humans in houses and malls. Now when you want to be very, very wealthy, all you have to do is buy the lists and pick a few obvious marks. Start with unemployed, non-English speakers and so forth. And when that kind of marksmanship runs dry, why you can switch right over to CRE of which the entire landscape of North America has been filled-in as convenience services for all the barrel-tiled gated communities with central vacs in every room.

Does anyone recall how excited the real estate industry was when they'd been trawling the populace for more potential home purchasers and proudly announced their new targets were to be single mothers and illegal immigrants? For so many, it was love at first site.

While I'm at it, I credit Charles for his introduction to MERS. Its so perfect a tool for the Bankers it could go down in history as important as the Pasteurization of cows' milk. It is where we are going with everything, and in this I include the preferred customer discount card readers, credit card records, electronic medical records, etc., all of which give rise to yes, identity theft because as nice an employee as Joe Schmoe appears, you never really know who you are dealing with until its too late and as with Robo Signers, former burger flippers, it was too late on the grandest scale ever. And you thought Choicepoint was something. Wake up. Ice Nine time.

Many blogs and real news sites are working this one, so visit them and get informed. I'm not a news site really and the whole thing tends to nauseate me. When are they going to bloody knock off this shit? It is a miracle of God I am not in that world at all. What l've read and seen is replayed over and over every bi-monthly trip into a tiny, but densely populated area for supplies and still it brings on nausea. I see it live playing out among the people, many of whom think problem solving consists of forgetting about the problem and driving faster and more dangerously to get nowhere.The weirdest are usually in front of the box store which has taken to putting a quick-sale section in their oversize and empty parking lot. There wandering in a daze, are the snaggle toothed in flip flops with curlers and their daughters and vacuous husbands arms loaded with dollar plastic junk and family size bags of potato chips. Guess they're not cutting back. For people who have been poor all their lives, nothing has changed, however, inflation followed by hyperinflation will change all that. Where will they go? Some of the farmers sold their livestock because they could no longer afford the feed. When people get raw to the bone, when there is nothing left to sell, then we are in Migrant Mother territory with a company store where you can owe your soul. Yes, I will paint it. Now these new Okies, formerly home owning innocents caught in someones idea of oneupsmanship, could be anybody from anywhere so all the rules still apply. I.e.; some still won't get it. Order will have to be maintained, so Darth and Erik will have their people on the scene just in case you were romanticizing about freedom at last.

What is going on in France, in its 6th day, are some very angry human beings gathering and holding signs in large numbers because the retirement age is being raised meaning delayed expectations. It is interesting these protesters are being labeled as dock and refinery workers and any article you read soothingly explains in the ending paragraphs they have many ships waiting to offload plenty of fuel oil, yet, planes are diverted from landing and many gas stations dry. Hmmmm. It wouldn't be that some of the protesters are fuel oil people and some of them are everybody else that sees trying to survive on reduced pensions with severely limited fuel supplies spells the end of any creature comfort no matter how small?

... Fuel shortage fears

Since September 27, strikes against pension and port reforms at oil depots in the south of the country have left 63 oil, gas and chemical tankers waiting off the Mediterranean coast, Marseille port authorities said. ...
Strikes put pressure on petrol and diesel supplies across the country, notably when supplies to Paris's regional and international airports were cut on Friday, but the pipelines running south from Le Havre were reportedly working again by late on Saturday. ...
Christine Lagarde, the economy minister, urged people not to panic over petrol supplies, as the country had ample stocks for now. ..."We have reserves," she told France's RTL radio, adding supply problems had affected 230 petrol stations out of a total 13,000 in the country. "People mustn't panic."...
Police were able to break up blockades at three fuel depots in southern France, easing some of the pressure at petrol stations, but that has not eased fears of a fuel shortage.
"People are panic buying. We’ve seen long lines of motorists queuing at filling stations," Al Jazeera's Harry Smith, reporting from Paris, said. ...
Lorry drivers are heavyweights in the realm of French protest movements and have announced their intention to join the protests. ...
Maxime Dumont, the head of the CFDT union's lorry drivers' section, said drivers could block fuel depots and food warehouses and clog roads by driving slowly.
Trash collectors in Marseille have also joined in the strikes, burning rubbish in the streets. ...

They could be us. In the not too distant future. One thing we do not have in common with the Great Depression is the end of easy oil. I am convinced everything that is a crisis and the reason it is mushrooming is because we are past peak, which some would compare to our Saigon moment, but again, it is not comparable as we are witness to the slow death of humanity/integrity, lost in an electronic detour on the way to self-extinction. Worse, all along we knew it did not have to be that way. There was a better way, just not corrupt enough to satisfy the representative-selves of the courtiers currying the King's favor, the King's representative-self, of course, being under the delusion he was high born. High-born. Heh. That will make lots of difference when we're all gone.

... These are the big fish

Who always try to eat down the small fish,

just the small fish.
I tell you what: they would do anything
To materialize their every wish....

from Guiltiness by Bob Marley | Exodus LP

an evening in the Revealing

2010-10-14T00:15:00.000-07:00

It is disturbing to see what is happening with the elections coming up on my geographic horizon. The subscription TV which the fireteacher pays good money for out of his hard-earned chipster cheque is showing Arnie Terminator/Twins flicks through the night, every night. Hey dudes, where's my Battle of Algiers, my Wild Pacific, my Spike Lee post-Katrina documentary? No question over which side the satellite hovers. How much did THAT cost?

And just where was Arnold while ~~Georgio Armani~~ Angelo Mozilo displaced the citizenry of our nation, quickly bleeding across the oceans destroying the peace of mind of westernized peoples worldwide? (Think on that name: country-wide for a minute, ah such grandiose fantasies of pre-Elizabethan professional executioners have nothing on what heights are reached in our new millennium. (In fact, the Elizabethan age was one followed by many years of peace and prosperity, it is well known the Virgin Queen loved her people more than herself.) It wasn't so long ago we had Gray Davis as governor who apparently bombed with the populace despite Enron's miserable meatless ending. The press ran Gray through the shredder under pressure from the you-know-whos. The press runs everybody through the shredder now since its their job to shred regardless of pressure. You see, they learned their lessons well. For shame. The truth is nobody can run this place, or any place, definitely not Meg Whitman, heh, just wait till she meets up with the local fruits & nuts overpopulating the west coast or worse, has to balance the state budget, the classic gubernatorial demise. As soon as budget time rolls around, the shredder starts humming and it hums along through years and years of tears. And, yes, Whitman's already denying her personal nannygate, exposed by none other than her X'd illegal immigrant housekeeper, but what really got me was something she said quite a while ago which was "I believe marriage is between a man and a woman." She really said it. Everything that came after that might as well have fallen on deaf ears, the blow was struck, the character naked for all to see and mind you, do we really want more X or "on leave to serve at the pleasure" CEOs in government? No thanks, Meg, I won't be voting. I will be among the millions all of you and yours lost with your expensive press-released, personhooded campaigns blessed by our highest court. We have been burned so many times in state and national elections why ask for it outright? Hey, gimme more idyllic penury huh? And a little less room to just be, why don't ya? Fruits and nuts don't eat. Yes, I know, voting is my Constitutional right to exercise so I exercise my right to protest by withholding. The question is: Do we prefer a candidate who lies all through the campaign or one who lies all though his/her tenure in office? That's like saying we have a choice, isn't it, paper or plastic...
Oh well, nina, you could vote for Brown, right? No. His aide (um hmm) called Meg a whore. I guess its the dirty politicking, the displays of concealed corruption and vast amounts of money spent on self promotion all the while attempting to hide one's true character. All that money could be put to SUCH good use on improvement of the state and country and our species' survival. For shame, again. Are these people human beings or holograms or socio-hybrid aliens? You tell me.

On my sojourns through God's Kingdom lately, the landscape is littered with peeling, weather-beaten campaign signs. I try to get away from it and go deeper, farther and leave it behind where the neighboring mountains appear grey-green at the base, a lighter green-grey behind it and a higher, pale lavender grey-green ridge in the far distance. Mist rises from the base of the far lavender ridge graduating to deeper grey at the top where it meets the clouds. The mist means fog is coming on which means summer is over, winter opened its window and frost lies on the ground at dawn. Its just a quick slide into wood gathering, stacking, hauling into the fireplace from there, although we never got started so early before. I keep my eye on it. First snow is always on Thanksgiving, but this year it could happen any day. The Elk began bugling at the end of August. That never happened so early before either. Actually, this is a wonderful thing because the cold, wet night air (humidity) limits the probability of wildfires. Lastly, as was the case in 2009, the Juncos are late by many weeks. The weather conditions must be just right for them to make the journey south and apparently, it is not. I think in my mind its the air quality. The belching filth of big agra is easily mistaken for fog coming through the passes. Indeed, it is that surreal. It was not always that way. I remember. I made notes in my Smithsonian guides.

The housing, foreclosure, low - if any - new home sales crisis reminds me of the GOM crisis. The blowout preventer was broken as it was broken in the market crisis, or the credit crisis, or the ... etc.. Sort of like 911 too, each crisis militarily industrializes afterwards. We keep having 911 disasters with eternal effects upending the previous story. We know from reading stories there must be an ending somewhere, but there isn't. Most everyone is still living the old story whether they are an unrepentant shopaholic or a Nigerian child selling sodapop in the mud to the pipeline police. Even when attempts are made to reform corruption, the corrupt make the new story instantly throwing everyone and everything into deeper, darker, more terrifying and uncertain futures and still the story goes on. The ever-changing, ever-enlarging story is a way of life now, as if the anomalies of the present are all that ever was or will be.

The courts are already backlogged, imagine what sheaths of complaint are hitting the desks today from all those who were foreclosed and evicted or threatened with the process, and all those who bought those foreclosed dwellings, ahem, illegally? What a scene: the angry millions forcing their ways through the McMansion doors demanding their homes back from alarmed young couples feeding baby number one in the breakfast nook? What are they gonna do in this economy, double up? Oh why not, they'll learn to get along just like we do, but they won't be happy about it until they win their lawsuits. As we watch an entire new industry is being born, the graduation of Robo Signers to Paper Seekers tasked with unwrapping all the CDOs and sifting through xeroxes of xeroxes to find something that is probably lying under the mattress in Polanski's chalet if it actually exists, legitimate titles of home ownership and legitimate titles to commercial properties that is, not the mattress. We only know one thing for sure at this point and that is: Everyone has again stepped on yet another rung of the Apocalypse ladder where nothing is what it seemed and all hell is breaking loose from the shylocks to the cowboys on bar stools looking for love in all the wrong places. There's a big range in between consisting of the colorful variety of Planetary Citizens.

There are many things I can handle as weird and strange as some things are, because I am not in that world. It does not concern me or the immediate members of this existence. The man, me, the Guinea Pig, the Dogs, these are the beings whose interests are my interests. The relatives and our children are the collective ribbons that complete the package.

Have you ever thought about being a survivor from a shipwreck, floating on a very small section of what is left of the lifeboat's hull, whom out of all those faces treading water would you reach for?

On the other hand, when it comes to causing deliberate pain to our people in the larger sense, it burns, it scathes, it maims for life and kills as it does all victims whether they know what is happening or not and this is not acceptable. One day its a feeling, then its a blurb at a news site, by evening the blurbs have their own wiki page. And then, like the dark season, suddenly its upon us full steam ahead and we rearrange our existence again. Suffering can be very good when you can, if you can, compare it to other states yet that also is being denied wherever possible.

Cufflinks photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images N.A.: Angelo Mozilo, founder and former CEO, Countrywide Financial Corporation, testifying during a House Oversight and Government Reform hearing ... examining the compensation and retirement packages granted to the CEOs of corporations deeply involved in the current mortgage crisis.

What's goin on

2010-10-04T22:27:00.000-07:00

Mother, mother
There's too many of you crying
Brother, brother, brother
There's far too many of you dying
You know we've got to find a way
To bring some lovin' here today ...
1971 | Marvin Gaye | Obie Benson

Finally, it has come to this we think and yet, its not over, not by a long shot. The mess, the turmoil, has a long way to go. A few things need attention while the thunderstorm and hail are flung across the passes and traffic slows to a dead halt on the interstates ...

Browsing the welcome news (we all have welcome news, you might have seen this), I was amused by an article dated today concerning a GOP senate candidate's statement made four years ago and wondered as you will too, why bring up this paranoid's delusion now? Of course, its election dirt, but its more. It reads as a thinly disguised attempt to take us further into 1984 where we are always at war. If this is so, it needs to be nipped in the bud immediately because we are going to need strong friends and soon. The paranoid's delusion is just that, a delusion, and a rather perfect illustration of reactionary thinking. What's wrong with these people, anyway? We wouldn't be reluctant witness to provocateurs' antics if our Laureate community organizer and his handlers could organize their way to real solutions, but alas ... personalities earn fame and fortune spotlit by media's public relations-compliant analysis, pressing and pushing to no avail. Economic relationships are stuck for life regardless of who occupies what office, and where, unless (there's always an unless) one party is suspected to be profiting more than the other. Profiting greatly. In the end, in our bottom line, in our litmus test, it means nothing we don't already know. Tit for tat. Where's the change, dude? The whole place is still sliding on thin ice.

You'll want to follow up that piece, whichever one you chose among the roster of corporate feeds, with something of genuine substance, although its the blog author who provides great insight to the ironies contained in certain documents which are purportedly the agenda for the upcoming G-20. You will find the opinions fascinating. You may even find confirmation for your secret thoughts on this issue contained within. Gonzalo's take on his material is most entertaining. It would make a great film. Someday, I would like to see a dream roundtable discussion between Charles Hugh Smith, James Kunstler and Gonzalo Lira on just about anything. If wishes grew on trees ... Oh, the poor public. They have no idea. The new statistic for our beleaguered livestock is three out of four Americans will be obese (not merely overweight) by 2020. Do I need to repeat that? Has it sunk in? Good. The cattle would rather scrape lemon drops off the bottom of the BGH-GMO barrel than figure out what's going on.

None of the above will mean anything to you if you don't see the links.

The cattle better figure it out soon because it is no longer in the hands of some mythical great overseer. Mentally repeat the past and ask yourself what are you going to do when disaster snarls its way into your living room? Who is prepared when they don't know what is brewing in the witch's den? Personally, I have a prejudice against knowing too much because MSM details generally obscure the point, among other travesties. What has happened is we have no one looking out for us, we are viewed as too shallow, too spoiled through over-abundance, too oblivious and too corrupt for salvation. The humanity has been wrung out of the human. Where does one begin to repair all that has happened and all that is to come? How can we heal while wallowing in a national cesspool of denial? Yes, it is shocking. It is an impasse like none other, ever.

Mister Kunstler's essay today is his best one since I've been reading him, easily a few years by now. Oh, I know, he doesn't keep his house all that clean, there are plenty of repeat trolls nosing around, but once in a while there will be a comment so worthy of a larger audience it is like a rainbow breaking the storm. (I've taken the liberty to correct punctuation where I find it and understand in the heat of the moment how such things happen.)

This one is from conchscooter:

"Can you spell quitclaim? The reason those famous "23 states" keeps getting brought up on this issue is that these are judicial foreclosure states. That would be states that require a judge to sign off on a foreclosure order.
However if challenged (and the title companies are doing just that)the banks not only can't produce the pen-and-ink mortgage agreement, they have had those lackeys sign off that the original documents were "lost." They weren't lost they were transferred without the benefit of being properly recorded to investment trusts.
That means the mortgages are not properly recorded and can therefore be challenged.
If you buy a foreclosed property you will not get title insurance because in those judicial foreclosure states the banks had no legal right to sell a property in which they had no legal standing.
This is a state issue and is going to have a more revolutionary impact on this lawless state of ours than any number of survivalists with guns.
Don't believe me? Ask yourself why banks are stopping foreclosure in judicial foreclosure states...No one else has asked themselves why and what happens next. Not even Jim Kunstler, which is disappointing, but he got closer than most."

And here's one from eightm:

Another AX: WORK
Take a look at all of those skyscrapers in New York City, Tokyo, Seoul, etc. What do you think all of those office workers actually "do" ? Do you really think they are actually producing anything ? Are they needed for anything except being a place holder - a figment of imaginary labor - work, to justify billions of dollars of money transfers amongst the already and only ever going to be rich ? The truth is work in general is no longer needed, is destined to become obsolete no matter what anyone says or thinks or desires.

The calculation is easy to do: there are 200 million office workers worldwide, information workers, "knowledge" workers, research workers, "innovation", and research and development and all of the other mega Bull Shit terms and expressions the modern economist love to talk about. So exactly what are they discovering - improving - creating ? Absolutely nothing except billions of dollars being robbed from the poor. But let's look at it for what it really is: out of 200 million workers I would fathom that only 1 out of 1,000 are creating anything, are really producing anything of lasting value, any real optimization, any real improvement, any real result, any real serialization of work as something that accumulates. But this is OK, the other 199 million are just running around in circles, they are essentially spinning their wheels, they are mostly just killing time and creating and solving imaginary problems, and playing the status game, office politics game, and creating useless meetings and every conceivable way to pretend to actually be working and doing something.
But those 200,000 that are actually optimizing, that are improving the little work processes that are left to do, those guys there are setting the stage to eliminate at least each 100 jobs as a minimum. For what is all of this research, optimization, innovation worth if it doesn't cut costs, which in the end really means cut jobs ? And cut costs they will, no matter how inefficient they are because it is only natural that processes can slowly be improved and optimized. So 200,000 workers (the only ones that are actually serializing work, accumulating lasting results) will eventually each cut 100 jobs, so another 200 million unemployed workers will appear in the near future.
So the future of work is actually no work, hundreds of millions of unemployed, mass poverty, eventually starvation, thanks to the capitalists, success model of rich robbing everything from the poor. We need free salaries, and cheap rents since there will no longer be any possible work in the future. We need to get rid of the competition mentality, the me better than you idea, the idea of "earning" what you need, we need equality and everything must be furnished for free since automation and technology have essentially killed all possible work and will kill all work in the future.
You don't understand: you won't be choosing "capitalism" or whatever, the forces at play are going all in the same direction no matter what you or anyone wants. Optimization, automation, Chinese or South Korean scientists - engineers automating factories, creating production shortcuts, etc. etc. This will trickle through and translate into less costs which means somewhere and somehow less money to workers or less work. No matter what, this world is going towards the end of work, work is no longer needed, I know many people for one reason or another have no work, have nothing to do, even if they wanted to, because the modern production process is all geared towards the elimination of work. We better get this straight and not buy all the BS justifications of the economists that say more productivity, more research etc. will create new jobs. And in fact these are exactly the items that are eliminating work. More productivity and more research will kill jobs, not create new jobs, unless you consider dog walking a new "kind of job", a new "service job"...
No matter where and how many people can build houses or cut the lawns (valid only in the US, most countries don't have houses with lawns to cut, etc.) there is not enough work for too many people. We have huge excess capacity in all productive endeavors, Spain and the US, just to name 2 even very different countries built way too many homes and now have a glut of homes, the US may have 15 million empty homes, all of Europe from Lisbon to Moscow may have even more, they did all the right things, they built all the homes they could, but the system cannot support them without free salaries to millions of families that could use them.
The right wing thugs like to pretend there are these magical solutions, "technology destroys jobs but creates more jobs than destroyed", or "go somewhere else where they are looking for your manpower", etc to put the blame on the unemployed, to put the blame on the victim and not on the system: we live in automatic economies, work is disappearing at an alarming rate, there is no magical solution. We need free salaries and cheap rents, government owned, because the government is the people, the government is the nation as a whole, is the only real value, the collectivity, the individual is an egotistical criminal that wants to rob from the poor, wants to beat up the weak and kick them out of work. A central government that gives what the people need, and a progressive government that will use all the excess productive capacity for progress, the future, like space exploration, millions of skyscrapers, a society where the common good, and not the individual good is cherished. Exploration of the solar system and then the stars and planets, thousands of rockets, the future of humanity, a future of science and discovery, of an advanced civilization that puts all of its energy to use for progress, for the advancement of everyone, to share with everyone, to go higher and higher and further and further. Capitalism is a stone age system for violent - ancient apes that like to fight and have huge egos.
But this is exactly how the system is being set up to be ... (Please see link above for the rest of eightm's comment.)

Shall we ask eightm where the free salaries will come from? Ah, sweetheart, don't even think about Treasury's presses.

What does all this say as a whole picture? It means we are fubar and need to either pull up stakes or batten down the hatches for our remaining lifetimes. That's right, sail under bare poles from this moment forward.

Who remembers the ISG, the Iraq Study Group, asking for solutions from the American citizens? And did not BP ask for the public's solutions to the blowout? And was Saudi Arabia's' offer of assistance not refused? Of course, Bush strummed his three chord riff, his only riff, during Katrina at a California's power photo-op rather than ask for solutions because he just didn't give a damn. All along the signs and omens were blinking neon truths which for the most part have been taken for granted. You saw it. The Fema trailers for those who qualified were reported to be cancer incubators. And now there's Corexit - a solution not supplied by the public who was cluesless as to what on Earth could be done short of a walking evacuation, but where to? With what?

Nothing is like it was and will never be like it was again. We've outgrown our childhoods and cannot go back. The people are unhappy and complaining and running into brick walls with every action they attempt to accomplish seemingly simple tasks. Simultaneously, it is a continuing joy to communicate with each other in our small, caring communities. I know lots of readers are worried about Visible this week, but he will survive his situation and resurrect into more than he already is. Tell me who among us has not been there? Let us trust each others' journeys through our own power to survive these times with our love and understanding. We ARE on our own, but we are not alone. I will pass along a secret I shared with a friend just this morning: When your broken heart needs repair and you find yourself in the dark, swirling abyss, falling, falling, faster and faster, do-something-good-for-someone-else. It is amazing how one small good deed turns it around. This is where we are, just taking it day by day, usually hour by hour. Baby steps and good deeds.

Art:
L.A. Postcard | 18" x 24" watercolor on Arches
Woof! Woof! Creole translation: Oua! Oua! | 18* x 24* watercolor on Arches

Disclaimer: I'm not responsible for comments made by others and hold no political position for or against the commentary produced by anyone else. All material on this blog is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 Unported License.