postcard from Planet Backwards

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

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

...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.