seeking Yin in a Yang existence

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

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

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

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.