Present shock ...

Present Shock and the Loss of History and Context

Recognize the title?  Charles is the brilliant mind behind it.  I liked it so much, I've borrowed it.  It perfectly sums up the experience of these times more succinctly than anything I've seen.  Read that line again, maybe again and again, there is a long and tedious, alarming and prescient freight train of human catastrophe endlessly passing before us as we sit at the crossroads while bells clang, lights change from green to yellow to red and whistles scream Danger, Danger!  Each boxcar crunchlocked to its predecessor, each more incongruous than dreamed possible to the landscape they pass through daily, nightly, every crusty bolt, every surface upon and in between the corrugated tin smashtagged in day glow obliterating ownership logotypes so that no rust remains visible, ensuring no one has reason to suspect the panorama passing before them is forever doomed to the elements.

One might think they'd lost their way, if they knew the way to begin with, which many do not.  I'm constantly running into people who have no idea where they are going.  It looks like they know their way, but if you ask them for directions, you get, to begin with, a quizzical look.  I'm gettin' very tired of that, aren't you?  Charles' "Loss of History" became a reality because the memories of our train watching travelers are sponging incessant variations of experience, pleasure and pain complete with artful twists, victor after victor indulging his mortal vision, including the perverse persuasions of centuries old scribes, co-authors and copywriters, that actual history, those massive subjects of World Civilization and Ancient Geological History, going back as far as the human imagination extends, exists only to adopt and rearrange.  

I find the daily compounding disasters taking place globally to be in perfect keeping with Kali Yuga.  We knew it was coming on and now its everywhere at once.  It is impossible to say with certainty how many of the daily disasters come about through technology fatigue, reliance on automated systems. We know that nothing lasts, nothing, and we see the world's infrastructure coming apart without serious management programs and funding allocated for upkeep.  We see our land itself heaving, sinking, shrinking, burning, sliding, frying and when you see it you ask why is this?  We see the enrichment of evil, the smarmy contracts let to those who deserve it least and still the train keeps on a rollin'.  We see everything, us, the Earth, all life under God under brutal attack and we very often find ourselves unable to do anything meaningful to abate the increasing damage.  When we can find nothing meaningful to do to heal this situation, its easy to fall back into complacency because there is no encouragement to be on the side of good and right.  What we must do is find our own encouragement and act on it.  A group isn't the answer.  Groups are brought down through all the common weaknesses inherent in gathering - from diverse allegiances to infiltration to unaffordable, impossible to implement solutions.  Not enough like minds agree on exactly which problem or issue to tackle and the reason behind this is the secrecy shrouding every platform that requires transparency, as if there are merely a handful of problems and all we need to do is agree which particular one in which to devote our energies.  Addressing them ALL is beyond our means and beyond our capabilities.  Even agreement on the magnitude and timelines of these problems is up for debate.  And there are worse problems ahead, just as Kali Yuga arrived, on schedule, so will the problems of the near future.  Soon enough we will witness rising seas pushing inland the great coastal cities as metropolitan populations are told they will have to pay for the stilts and cassons and berms and seawalls themselves - which is saying "Save Yourself"- and happens to be the exact formula we've seen played out time after time in every country on the planet since corruption/irresponsibility and evil became the NWO norm.   Due to the historically sideways manner of revealing important climate, food, economic truths such as employment and healthcare, there will be many who will interpret the information casually as far off in the distant future or people who must by circumstance refuse to pay.  Many will not survive. 

In a disaster, there is no room for debate. It is nothing short of cruel, evil, stubborn insistence on false ideals based on allegiances that overrides the possibility anything can be saved now.  This is another area where my patience is running thin, I'm sure yours is too.  At this juncture in Present Shock, to begin explaining what has happened and how it happened is ridiculous.  If one has not noticed by now that which is impossible to miss, one will never notice.  The die is cast, "things" will take their course and our best hope for survival is to stay out of the way. 

I don't blog as frequently anymore because the information is there for all to see and interpret.  Brevity is the short answer due to the nature of our precarious situation, the clash of civilizations, the mass undoing of global humanity, unilateral species genocide, the very breath of air itself, the seas, the water, and now the maturation of the dumbed down unable to decipher the difference between vicious violence and compassion, don't be surprised if you see much smaller posts soon.  The long answer is unknown.  It may come to a combination of the two, short then long, etc.  I won't back out, its something I do and will continue doing, like painting which has taken higher priority for weeks lately. 

On a happier subject, be sure to visit the Trout Clan's regeneration efforts.  From the devastating fire wiping out their once beautiful property, out of the ashes comes the TEEPEE.  Praises!  Crushall!  It is beautiful indeed to see disaster overcome by the unstoppable forces of goodness, love, truth, solid dedication and authentic partnership in action. 

What I was saying in the paragraphs above the Trout's heartening news, is in no way to be taken that I condone ignoring the circus.  We are an integral part of that show, like it or not, and there are things we can do.  We can counter evil, hatred, stupidity, carelessness, lies, conservative and liberal prejudices and allegiances, deliberate cruelty, revenge, greed, illusions, personal rejections, etc., by simply being the natural person we are in our core, for once and forever casting out the loudmouth representative-self blathering platitudes.  ALWAYS making the effort to see whatever there is to be seen through eyes of understanding and compassion.   Spiritual evolution, especially the continuing growth of our own, is our battle strategy, our Zen simplicity accurately aimed with all activity a union between body, mind and heart in sync so we may exponentially improve our response to all that comes, now and directly ahead, is and has always been the only way to manage survival.  It has undoubtedly taken all of us uncountable lifetimes to realize this fact and in knowing this we must also know it will take further uncountable lifetimes to re-right the ship, if ever.  We have no choice but to be okay with that and live wisely with love, otherwise the cycle of return, for uncountable members of our bredren (and perhaps even ourselves) will never end.

Post title © CHS 2013

Too Hot to Handle, Too Cold to Survive

Good Evening Friends, welcome again to another episode of Lies & Diversions. Tonight, as we lean back in our office style swivel chairs, surrounded by the warmth of a glowing fireplace brightening our War Rooms, we invite you to take a little trip with us into certain, rather frightful places, some call it the unknown, but that would be only because they have not been paying attention.  They have been paying attention to the aps and features on their bluetoothed phones between absent-minded mouthfuls of whatever high cholesterol, fructosed, BHT preserved and crunchy crackling bag contents they've sequestered in their desk drawers, occasionally spraying large gulps of green Monster on the desktop.  They think you are laughing with them because they are funny, but you are laughing at them because maligning them is not spiritually healthy.

As a mood-setting prelude for tonight's episode, here are a few select lyrics from "Desolation Row" off the Highway 61 Revisited album.  Are you going to ask me who wrote them?

... They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As lady and I look out tonight
From desolation row ...

... Yes, I received your letter yesterday

(about the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From desolation row

If you'd rather listen than read poetry, visit the link and turn up your speakers, although this particular version has a skippable ad before the stills.  Why can't we view the original?  Because standards and licensing agencies appear to have found something objectionable about desolation.  "This video contains content from SME and The Harry Fox Agency, Inc. (HFA), one or more of whom have blocked it in your country on copyright grounds." Cough, cough...

It is interesting to me that Visible's recommendation of the film, Memento, so remarkably captures visually much of the same high weirdness, tragedy and romance we pondered over the years listening to Dylan's musical metaphors.  Thank you Vizzy.  In Memento, with the funky sexy Guy Pierce (also in The Road, the calming father with his family at the beach) as our protagonist who has lost his short-term memory, aka the inability to make new memories.  Check out the trailer and skip the brief Jurrasic Park-extreme ad if you like. Memento is THE perfect film for these times, crazy, backwards and forwards, completely lacking the continuity necessary for making sense in our once civilized world of dates, calendars, clocks and schedules big and small.  I suggested you see it last summer, but if you have not done so yet, let me remind you again, its very, very good.  Easy to rent too.


***

I read Clusterfuck Nation every Monday morning.  Its just what I do, along with all the other blogs on my bloglist.  I don't usually comment there because its a crowded house and heavy on self-adverts, but Mr. K's entertaining writing style and take on our state of affairs are always interesting, often localized, you get a clear picture of what seedy desolation has overtaken upstate NY and much of small town New England.  This Monday's read contained a link it would be well worth your while to investigate.  Kunstler never links and I'm not going to give you a direct link.  I think you will find out why when you visit the sole link wedged into the middle of Kunstler's essay.  You can't miss it, it ties together more than a few billboarded and blathering diversions and puts truth to your worst suspicions, if you have them, if you allow yourself to ask the hard questions, if you are able to grasp a complex concept and follow it to its natural outsome.  Some of you may not be shocked at all.  Some of you may even have known all along the BRICS are well underway in their program.  There is no way our overlords will take this oncoming economic ostracisation sitting back, handwringing, unless action is taken before the fact - which may happen.  The MSM just ignores it, continuing on with gay marriage, the downfall of Lilo, powerball frauds and absurd employment/home sales statistics.

Decide for yourselves and feel free to comment even if you have never commented here before.  This needs discussion.  It does appear we are facing Memento on Desolation Row come round at last.  All that we have been preparing for, all along, was this.  We may not have to prepare anymore because if we've been good, loving, compassionate little persons, we might soon wind up on Pandora with our beloved Scout, ..neil..  HI NEIL! 

Phase II 2012 is over. Next?

Are you seeing any progress?  At this time, that which we feel is progress, although weakly discernible since we try hard to see "something" in order for it all not to have been an all-encompassing waste of a once good thing, is not progress acknowledged by the larger community, it takes a train you know, mountains must move, a violent punishing God must come down from the sky with his shepherds staff, breathing fire with bands of angels ripping off the masks and costumes, exposing the most intimate, naked fears of the paranoid human species.  God would herald the animals, the seas, the deserts and prairies, both poles, the foliage and his supreme natural system ensuring once and for all, they were understood to be his most pure, perfect creations, to be celebrated and treasured for they make his projects run smoothy.  Our progress levels seem  as slight acknowledgement of basic truth 101, there are many more advanced studies to be undertaken, it furthers one to cross the water.  Basic truth 102 is good, but Basics 103 gets a little slippery because of the commitment required to maintain previous understandings while the class ventures out of doors blindfolded.  One person wears the blind, the other leads the way.  That's the one where we are forced to abandon fear and embrace trust and can go very wrong if your trust has been misplaced.  Fortunately, with God, the coursework offers the solution which is to trust regardless because anyone reaching level 103 is already on the same page as you are. 


Are we waiting for God to visit?  Not hardly.  God is in us already, in the here and now.  This idea of a visiting deity, akin to political candidates' whistle-stops, is shared by many faux religions and  actually keeps God away, somewhere in a celestial palace, not available to stand on Earth and straighten out the turmoil in the way it appears to need, so it is that available self-serving rulers are appointed and reappointed,  telling us they do God's work, which they cannot as is plainly obvious, yet the fundies persist in this conundrum replete with erasing Mother's history to the point logic and sensibility of their motivation is distorted as always happens when someone starts from the wrong premise.  You cannot contemplate the Dharma without consciousness of that which was already here before mankind came along.  WE are not an original species, we are a sort of byproduct of Apes, Apes are a far more realized species in comparison.  We might have been their "services" sector because our dexterity proved capable of making tools and weaponry, but we were never decent helpers, always whining, grumbling, making deals behind the caves, cheating on the assignments, thinking our ways were better, that we were overall better beings than Apes, trading women in secret for the production of evermore skilled and creative offspring with which to overthrow the unpleasant circumstances of living without the luxuries the Apes seemingly enjoyed.  Man dearly desired to conquer his lowly status as sub-Ape and systematically, unknown to the Apes who bore him, fed him, gave him reason to be and the freedom to develop his skills, and began the long ascent (a descent) to rise above the arrangement.   This happened everywhere, almost simultaneously.  This era can be called the birth of human evil.  It was supplemented by a victory of sorts for Mankind so that he saw himself possessing great power over all.  Recall it began with an accidental hybrid who to this day has still NOT earned the trust of the Animal Kingdom. 


It is a cultivated occupatiom to let your mind travel and see where it goes.  As you throw in memories of your truth-time online, the story begins to evolve onto a nonfiction mystery which will take you, very often, to what it was that really went down.  As you know, one connection suddenly leads to another... and this "making of connections", be they local or far beyond the perimeter of your personal sphere, is the only kind of progress that ultimately matters.

* * *

In the process of thinking about trust, connections and progress, what we really need to talk about is fear in some of its most common manifestations.  For those of you who missed the comments on the last essay, you would not know we are speaking of the Fear of Being Real.  I will tell you right off, the more real you are the better your chances of survival anywhere, anytime.  Life is not a cakewalk, we were put here to suffer in order to understand suffering.  The Great Wall of Fear is one of the fundamentals of life, such as appendages and DNA.  Attempting to break through the wall is one of the, if not THE, most difficult things we can do.  There are quick ways to do it, but they are not as long lasting or life-impacting as doing it on your own without embellishments. Once you start however, even the smallest crack in the wall bears great fruit, call it beginner's luck.  It will encourage you to try it again and again because the jewels of self-knowedge lying inside and the pasture of Universal Plenty on the other side, patiently wait for you to reach them.  With each success you gleam brighter.  There are many who only go so far and quit, thinking they've figured out all they need to get around it, fearing huge losses resulting from coming clean with themselves, their enablers and their followers also locked in lies.  It is the Great Wall of Fear after all and it is fearsome indeed, those who don't make it would be the masses hard-wired into elaborate systems of false belief.   An example would be that of someone who basically portrays themselves to themselves, and others, in the context of full-spectrum fabrication, 24/7.  Do you know anyone like that?  Although some people who have the most to fear will sometimes make the breakthrough, this rare occurrence happens only because living a lie-filled life includes a suffering that in its most unbearable moments overwhelms them, then compels them to seek another way of existence. 


Some Top Fears in no particular order:

being unloved
loss of shelter
escalating the potential for violence
appearing stupid
being needy, hungry
loss of credibility
perceived as sloppy and careless
chosen to be an accidental enemy
penury
abuse
loneliness
being unjustly taken advantage of

And those are just common fears, not mine, maybe some were a long time ago, but fears I have witnessed over the recent past often enough to note these particular fears are usually the root behind otherwise inexplicable behavior.  I'll be interested in hearing your lists.  Some might interpret these fears as being mostly without physical pain, but the pain of suffering encompasses physical and intellectual pain, it can and will kill and/or destroy lives and create medical conditions often matching one's "worst" fear. The fear experienced typically in wanting to speak the truth but do not for fear listeners will discredit you and never again take you seriously is RAMPANT.  It stings in your body, knots the gut.  That kind of fear, BTW, is taught in kindergarten or earlier should one be so unfortunate as to be a product of abusive parenting.  The way to break through that is to forgive and move on, carrying with you the lessons of support and compassion.  When you examine the root, you are bringing fear to its logical dead end.  The problem is in the examination, we must be motivated to uncover what fear tells us.  Remember that every seemingly chaotic and cloudy event is fear based.  Imagine multiples of fears cascading upon you all at once, there are people who love this state and others who will not tolerate it, seeing though the veils and incessantly backtracking for the cause.  It is always startling to discover how routinely those fears listed above show themselves.  Before 2012, of course we saw them, but in 2011 and further back, they were not nearly as stark as today, in the urban global marketplace where life depends on creative survival in spite of fear.


Large numbers of city dwellers are walking around with invisible bandaids over their fears instead of facing them.  This is why wherever you have to go within a city, you are met with vast sinkholes absent human contact, the silent self of the stranger recoils from risking a glimpse of you in all your truth, as you find you are attempting to interact with a robot quoting from the employees manual.  Nothing in these exchanges have any truth to them other than "yes" or "no".  This means whenever we must be present in an urban setting for whatever reason it is within the quality of a movie, perhaps They Live, Wall Street, Death of a Salesman or Glengarry Glen Ross, a.k.a. "no one is home", because they are lost in their steamertrunk of fears, making it nearly impossible for you to accomplish whatever seemingly simple task you went there to achieve.  The truth is never the fantasy.


It also means whenever you are among friends, it can be guaranteed some or one will fear your straightforward no-nonsense approach which unfortunately can sometimes translate into seeing your views rather unsymathetically.  That usually happens among the kind who always have to be right as their drug of chioice - of which there are as many as there are psychopathies to hide them.  Our recent favorite lesson stands: They-want-it-that-way.  Well, fine, but the unconscious emotional trauma brought on by fear is a killer leaving untold collateral damage in its wake.   Once it is clear to you that you are perceived as an enemy to the robot, which you cannot help but be - since your very presence brings up unconscious fears, intimdation, foreboding, suspicions, it is best to use simple, clear sentences and leave quickly.  It is likely you have nothing at all to do with somone else's baggage, so be kind, be geniune and brief. 


Afterwards, when you are far away, back in your own comfort zone, you might feel sad their lives were lost while they were still living.  I blame these fears on childhood abuse and/or a childhood surrounded with the same fears we are talking about, as if the child sponge fully absorbed those very same fears squeezing the life out of the adults even before the child was able to name sunshine and rain.  I've heard it happens in the womb or for that matter in conception.  Think about it.  Work to overcome it.


Related:  Visible Origami:
"... What is going on? What is going on? What is not going on? Why do we walk around massive lies that we know to be massive lies and are indifferent to this? Why do we carry the truth around with us and are indifferent to it? Fear plays a great part in all of this. We fear exposing the existence of the lies to ourselves. ..."
 

we interrupt your enheeeeeeeeee attention for an impor zzzzzzzzzzzzz

"...Looking towards the year 2100, models forecast that pressures on biota will continue to increase. The co-opting of resources and energy use by humans will continue to increase as the global population reaches 9,500,000,000 people (by 2050), and effects will be greatly exacerbated if per capita resource use also increases. Projections for 2100 range from a population low of 6,200,000,000 (requiring a substantial decline in fertility rates) to 10,100,000,000 (requiring continued decline of fertility in countries that still have fertility above replacement level) to 27,000,000,000 (if fertility remains at 2005–2010 levels; this population size is not thought to be supportable .... Rapid climate change shows no signs of slowing. Modelling suggests that for 30% of Earth, the speed at which plant species will have to migrate to keep pace with projected climate change is greater than their dispersal rate when Earth last shifted from a glacial to an interglacial climate ... and that dispersal will be thwarted by highly fragmented landscapes. Climates found at present on 10–48% of the planet are projected to disappear within a century, and climates that contemporary organisms have never experienced are likely to cover 12–39% of Earth... . The mean global temperature by 2070 (or possibly a few decades earlier) will be higher than it has been since the human species evolved. ..."   Approaching a state shift in Earth’s biosphere via Cryptogon

We have no time or interest in playing "I told you so".  We are in deep trouble of the worst kind. Only genuine think tanks, not the political byproducts generating press releases, are talking about the obvious.  We are hearing classic Nero violin compositions while all hell is breaking loose.  Its a switch from the previous position of serious science, that body of experts who dared not speak up or face loss of funding and public ridicule.  How will it be handled now?


It won't be.  For those who gain through others' loss, it doesn't call for action, in spite of the fact all around them the evidence is undeniable, they've had warning, they've experienced the realities first hand, but to take action, to this day, is to lose the vote and be shuffled off to the peanut clinic (or worse).  When disaster strikes, if you can pay attention, those affected make up two distinct types, the type who permanently leaves the region having born witness to the chaos and destruction caused by overloading Nature and those who rally around whichever political celebrity visits the aftermath of same, declaring citizens' heroism and patriotic unity in rebuilding over their loss.  Oh, rebuild by any means, the more the better.  The cameras are on.  In fact, if you happen to look upward while looking at the hopeless tsunamis of debris, the snarl of downed power lines, collapsed interstates, smoke and cinders, drought ravaged croplands and melted plastic, you'll see seven football fields of blimp droning overhead insuring compliance.  You might ask, "Um, compliance with what?"

"... in the optimal case, averting a planetary-scale critical transition demands global cooperation to stem current global-scale anthropogenic forcings ... . This will require reducing world population growth ...and per-capita resource use; rapidly increasing the proportion of the world’s energy budget that is supplied by sources other than fossil fuels while also becoming more efficient in using fossil fuels when they provide THE ONLY OPTION ...  increasing the efficiency of existing means of food production and distribution instead of converting new areas ... or relying on wild species ... to feed people; and enhancing efforts to manage as reservoirs of biodiversity and ecosystem services, both in the terrestrial ...
and marine realms ..."
*caps, mine

Now for those who leave, walking away from everything they ever knew, we might ask where on Earth are they expected to go?  You might recall the people bused away from Katrina often landed in places they'd never been.  We don't know what became of that group other than most of them did not return having nothing to return to, evident by the population drop, that was in any way reminiscent of going home.  Some were bused to stadiums elsewhere and reports of their unfortunate welcome status as intruding unwanteds shortly surfaced.  Some who survived and stayed were assigned (gasp, choke) Fema trailers.  But a larger group has never been heard from at all.  I suggest, to this day they are still wandering, a month here, two or three weeks there, essentially permanently homeless, perhaps dead, perhaps squatting under an interchange toughing it out with veterans of dispossession who long ago made their peace with nowhere to simply be, foraging out of dumpsters, praying to rest undisturbed.  You can't go where you want to go without the funds to get there.  It is the same story with people who walked away from their mortgages, if they couldn't meet the unmeetable expense of The Dream then, how are they doing in their new digs - unemployed with zero credit?  And we hear that multitudes of Haitians are still tenting, sometimes twelve or more related souls crammed under disintegrating tiny tarps designed for short term shelter from the blistering sun and daily tropic downpours.


I don't think many readers actually believe the totality of the darkness we have entered.  Of course, its even more absurd offline.  The general attitude I run into "out there" varies from "What's that?" to outright anger unprocessable information interferes with the blissful state of whomever's rocky little house of cards is showing cracks.  People of all flavors run their personal mental scans over everything they fall into, silently searching for the false element behind the spoken/written word of others.  Be my guest, its the latest rage.  More surprises unfold every day and many more are ripening for your awareness.  I've not seen a more apt description of these times than that of Visible's mention of the film, Memento. While it is difficult to categorize, if you are looking for it, you'd look among neo noir classics such as Blue Velvet, also highly recommended, but be sure to study up on Director, David Lynch before viewing or you might mistake this film for a precursor to Pulp Fiction, as if there were any basis for comparison between Dennis Hopper and John Travolta.  Memento is a remarkably applicable metaphor for 2012, day-by-freaky-day.  I suggest you try to see it if you have not, chances are you are already living it in the timeless, graceless, out of sequence evolution of modern civilization, repeating in reverse your personal movie starring your personal acquaintances,  underscoring all the unsolvable mystery accumulated through lifetimes of radiation exposure, mandatory vaccines, silent plagues and steady diets of pesticides resulting in the disguise of your recollection vs somebody else's bizarre interpretation of current events.  It truly is inexplicable that the incredible fallout could be curbed, the most dire impacts minimized, the dangers ahead clear and certain and yet those who are managing the movement of the muppets continue to freely encourage, profit from and pass egregious legislation guaranteeing maximum damage. The science goes unheeded, bless them, teaching us this important lesson: Just because it is Fact changes nothing.  You might wonder why on God's Earth with an overarching situation so obvious, so bleak, so final, already showing its claws, the Rough Beast here and gnashing, that politicians are the very fruitcake figures who could make the appropriate arrangements to knock it back.  We know they know.  We also know they compromised themselves out of any possibility something could be done, that it is the very nature of tawdry liars, flunkies and thieves to compromise for their personal survival, just how is it they are able to continue unabated AND even deny some of us the vote?  To deny the vote is another goofball trick to make something without value appear to have great value.  Indeed, those who are angrily disqualified from voting are lost in Memento, no short term memory, early conditioning urges them on, its all they know to do lacking any other modus operandi, while recent memory fails them in the present making them completely unable to differentiate between casting their allegiance to kill teams OR to vulture capitalism (another kill team in itself).  The climate change denial dilemma, mutually assured destruction, guarantees all of these things are brought to the forefront because you know it can't go on like this as Nature bears down harder slamming her point home with every new out of season tightening of the screws.  We've passed the tipping point so many times, the phrase "something evil comes this way" has lost its meaning, just like the little boy who cried Wolf, the populations are fully enured.  The most blase among them especially enjoy spouting in your face talking points: "This is just like 1993" or "We had snow in July when I was .... blah, blah, blah".


I would post more frequently, there is a lot happening, however my immediate lifestyle (by no means long term, if there is such a thing as heh, long term anymore) doesn't actually permit much time for composition.  It is very Memento-like in its backups and fast forwards, lacking chronological order.  I remember I came to this environment from somewhere with some baggage, but whatever it was has been buried under the pudge and sludge of the city-experience where everything you heard might or might not be coming soon, is already sealed in place to observe in silent shock and horror and to artfully resist impaction as much as possible in order to avert situational disaster.  Huge populations jammed into outrageously expensive, faux mission-style stucco tenements have resulted in the literal upending of society, where the underbelly of urgent need and craven depravity spills over into broad daylight.  The initial curiosity has of course, vanished, it is what it is making our second important lesson: They-want-it-this-way. When a society knits itself together inside a cacophony of sirens, revving engines, helicopters, wheezing buses, ambulances, alarms, startling dingdong bells, alerts, incessant interruptions, theatrical warnings bursting through every technological amplificaation appliance, nonstop paranoia and inane illegalities, the human voice cannot compete.  The individual has been reduced to a mere numerical sector where invoices and junk advertisements heralding go along to get along are submitted for processing upon receipt. Perhaps it is only a temporary perception problem due to sensory overload?  We wish.  If it were such, how does it end?

Let your mind function freely without abiding anywhere or in anything. Hui-Neng

dark clouds, silver linings

"Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on main street.
Chicago, new york, detroit and it's all on the same street.
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings. ..."
Grateful Dead


The vain and powerful personhoods continue to expand their reign swallowing whole the lesser of their kind like black holes as the only source of statistical profit left to economies. Money makes its own laws.  It makes its own friends and followers and hangers on and suck ups and blood leeching parasites.  Unless it infringes on protected territory, any source of hefty profit, especially carpet bagging, is worshiped and fully supported regardless of how it is achieved, although you'll note with "the gift to health insurers", a loophole of choice was left up to the states to accept or deny medicaid expansion and now we are seeing many states hesitate and back off,  they can't even handle their current volumes. 

A state's denial of funding to expand their health support services can be seen as an intentional enrichment of the fundamental gift.

Meanwhile, environmental disasters continue to expand in parallel.  The heat is on - still, and this is only July - encouraging the very real possibility one or more derechos, superfires, floods and droughts will happen again. Power outages will eventually become so unwieldy, there will be many locations the power simply cannot be returned.  If you have ever been in a disaster, you would have seen funding generated by your state's declaration of emergency, go where it is declared to be needed most (the strings attached), which is not the same as restoration of "normal".  The victims of Katrina can tell us all about that.  Normal is relative anyway.  Our normal now is living side by side the existence of mass illusion, its clear failure in sight if by nothing else than by the ubiquitous, ugly consequences of control by proxy.

prox·y
noun, plural prox·ies.
1.the agency, function, or power of a person authorized to act as the deputy or substitute for another.
2.the person so authorized; substitute; agent.
3.a written authorization empowering another person to vote or act for the signer, as at a meeting of stockholders.
4.an ally or confederate who can be relied upon to speak or act in one's behalf....
From Dictionary.com 
5. a robot, android, battery powered remote controlled model plane, boat or car or a skillful hologram
...not from Dictionary.com


As always,  I am more concerned with how all of this plays out on the little people.  Recently, there was an urban structure fire started by leftover fireworks which destroyed two apartment buildings.  I saw it develop while walking the dog.  It was a typical dusty triple-digit late afternoon on our return to the homestead of these weeks, I could see black smoke billowing from the end of the blocks, blocks crammed with tiny apartments void of ameneties or landscaping, culminating at the cusp of stripmalls.  The reports said 48 people were displaced, four injured.  The location and construction details reported in the aftermath indicated a rather low rent complex, which tells you right away some of the 48 had to have been foreclosure victims previous to becoming renters.  And now, where do they go?  Unless they were paying a monthly storage bill, this time around they lost everything.  (Interesting how storage ops blossomed over the past twenty years.  Moneys abhors a vacuum.)  My heart goes out to these people.  I want them to know they still have themselves and there are multitudes of rewards available when the slate is suddenly wiped clean, that whatever material objects stood in the way of the truth matter none to the awakening out of illusion where real life begins, that great suffering is required to rid the mind of trivial nonsense and their character and actions will shortly reveal themselves to be capable of so much more than previously thought possible.  As they trickle into the illusion's help agencies in humiliation bent sideways with desperation, they will find the system was never designed to give them back their "normal", for many of them, revelation awaits while perspiring in long, noisy lines only to be referred somewhere else and somewhere else again until it all becomes a circular journey of last hope where false belief is shattered in the process of testing faith in a system based on infinite economic advancement.  The helping hand they really need is at the end of their arm.

Our own lives are a testimony to the truth.  Nothing worth the effort is easy, occasionally you will be burdened beyond your capacity to function and overwhelmed at every turn.  You will have very little agreement if any at all.  Your spirituality will be crudely shoveled aside ... temporarily.  All the while, the more sincere your suffering, the more your very survival becomes apparent, standing in stark contrast to the situations you recognize from books and films as the dead end of your downward spiral. In this way, the totality of your life itself is a quest, a quest forever seeking higher ground, you know you've come a long way when the judgement of your peers has no bearing on your existence at all. Besides, who among us is in any position to cast judgement, the very act of judging a sacrificial practice.  We look to the animals and fowl to see judgement as designed by Nature, the lame Quail excluded from the tribe as invitation to predation.  The one-eyed squirrel, not long for the living under the glare of a hungry Redtail. Magnify these precious offspring of Earth to what we see being pressed upon the beleaguered little people and right away it become obvious, suffer your way into the lair and trust you will be, ah, safe?  There is only one way out and it is being handed to us every day, but many still don't get it, so thick and impenetrable are the hypnotic gasses producing weakness, beware the beckoning poppy fields on the yellow brick road while seeking your way back home. 

There comes a point where you must let it go in order to regain your personal spiritual being.  Compassion is the guide here.  Dwelling in anger over situations over which you have no control only carries you deeper into the illusion. A case in point would be that of a dear friend going through a continuing crisis taking place thousands of miles away from her present where her last living relation is failing rapidly under the spell of a fundie faith healing couple who have already achieved the "aunt's" signature, placing everything in trust for themselves.  While the situation is sad and gruesome in its many twist and turns under the illusion of control, especially the part where just whom is it exactly who can exercise the most power, calling in law enforcement and making reference to friends in high places, this one small story evolves into a dirty little war with the fallout effecting hundreds of uninvolved others, each of whom have some unrelated contact with the offices of either side, all doors to repair are thus sealed making it impossible to navigate through the fog of schadenfreude as one camp works to destroy the other. I listen to the explosions with half of one ear, mindful that should I allow it to impair my objectivity, there will be no one left standing.  When we enlarge the preditorial details of this sole situation, we will at once discover the motivation behind the curtain of compounding complexity, pain exacerbated by false belief and judgement based on hearsay, which in the bigger picture is the primary role of media, and can only result in worsening the state of our current condition.  Every single minute, somewhere, behind the faceless, nameless, tormented bodies of overpopulation, the little dramas and wars of the human species play out in timeless tragedy. We see it all the time, enough to think surely others see it too.  But they don't, not yet! Only through the experience of intense suffering does such suffering turn to prolonged despair deep enough to call it off at which point the absurdity of invited desolation clarifies the spectacular futility of the quest.  If, in such a place, you possess the insight to SEE yourself, consider yourself blessed.

Suffering is welcome as the universal deifying force enabling us to manifest beyond the barrier of impossibility.

And then there are many others, of course, who seemingly through no fault of their own, are forced to suffer silently since the mere scent of their vulnerability lays the foundation for greater torture.  These would be the elderly, the elderly workforce, the battered and abused victims of domestic violence, abandoned and abused children, children in cash motivated foster care and the kidnapped, hijacked innocents at all levels who quickly learn which side their bread is buttered.  We visited a strip mall chain store over the weekend and were waited on by a sweet, chatty, twice-widowed woman easily in her mid-eighties.  During the course of our visit, for one simple inexpensive item, she was unable to produce a receipt for purchase because her elaborate computer system kept going down.  Each time it failed, she called out to Mister Bill, premier salesman, who responded if and when he so desired and when he actually came over to us it was with loud vocal abuse and intent to show off his technical prowess at her expense.  It was quite a show.  It took over an hour of him shoving her out of her chair and ripping through stacks of files and wires before our meager tranasction was deemed satisfactory.  I had sad visions of this woman's everyday ... how she must anticipate and prepare herself to endure the abuse of her bullying co-worker sixty years her junior.  You might see this woman's position as hopeless, desperate for income and acknowledgement at all costs to her pride, but we should know well by now, pride is just another set of rusty pliers in the devil's toolbox.  The truth is, while Mister Bill sought the spotlight, it is she I applaud for maintaining her cool.  

We can't know how long it takes others to walk away from incessant self harm.  We only know that living the mantra of Doing No Harm is salvation.  And now, while the sky breaks apart and the world bleeds, salvation for ourselves is more available than ever before.  We should not fear the mystical appearance of sudden salvation for our loved ones is unavailable because I can testify to the fact everyone gets there on their own timetable without our input.  This too can be witnessed time and again.  All it seems to take is some serious forthright analysis during disaster before your loved ones will be telling you things you didn't know.  The resourcefulness that has taken all of us this far, is still very much alive.  The only thing typical about illusions is the constant pressure to make everyone of us dependent on a mirage in spite of our inate self-reliance and spirituality.  Those two elements exist within all of us and are the two traits for which there are no boxes to check on applications for aid.  They remain off the grid, immune to technology which is the same as immune to control by proxy.

Control by "proxy", by the way, is the chief reason many personal relationships fail.  The proxy in such a case is, of course, the usual suspect, our ridiculous, aggressive Mr. Bill-ish nemesis, the Representative-Self.  No, no Mister Bill 

***

I remain in fairly full agreement with most 2012 Apocalyptic revelations and predictions.  Where we are today is much more and far worse than where we were last year at this time.  I realize many of you do not agree the horrors of these days have overpopulation at the root and find myself not at all divided, convinced we have over-bred ourselves beyond the Earth's capacity to support life AND always willing to give great credence to the many additional causes still operating, morphing, mutating at full throttle and taking down everyone and everything so unfortunate to inhabit the geographies and civilizations in their way.  Maybe LIBOR's scandalous interest rate manipulations will finally create the Grand Global Debt Jubilee and maybe pigs fly.  Expect anything, anything at all, to come crashing through your windshield now, obviously there is no limit to the Wetiko imagination for make believe, insane justifications for criminal/satanic behaviors and interior decorating with matching swags and drapes. 

Forget them, just forget it all.  We must stand back and remain as completely unaffected as humanly possible.  If the Higgs Boson gives body to matter, removing it would take everything apart, right?  Think Tao.  Let us give them NO mind and instead bow our heads and fold our hands in the humblest thanks and praises to the Supreme Creator Divine for our brief journey on such a beautiful planet complete with her incredible Mother lode of lessons.  We are very fortunate.

The Confluence Comes Home

May your noses always sniff out evil.

Let us revisit overpopulation today.  Survival Acres has a new post up that requires our attention.  Do visit if you can clear the underbrush in your mind long enough to understand the immediacy of the situation.  Clearing the mind is not exactly an easy accomplishment during the reelection dogfights, ah, such choiceless mockeries of mockeries, shams of shams, put them in the ring with the mopmen and pressing crowds in formal attire cheering for blood.  Are these events even worthy of your attention?  Oh please.  I look at the past few hours being online as futile except for John's confirmation of what we already know and refused to voice, as stated earlier... We'd better get real and soon.  Although, getting real isn't an effortless accomplishment either, humans have some weird optimism trigger that kicks on as worse turns to dire and dire turns to imminent.  We've all experienced "the delay" in the face of disaster.  For some few, it is extremely brief, for others, a "do anything other than act" sets in which shortly is nonverbally expressed as trust and faith someone else will save your ass.


I moved yet again a few weeks ago, thus the delay in getting up a new post.  While it may be seen as a running from, actually it was a welcome relief to hang out with more welcoming, intelligent people, not that there is anything wrong with the desert crowd, but isolation serves to distort one's perspective on just about anything.  Lesson learned: sharing is what its all about.  I've been doing things I never would have done previously and these are things such as attending open air theater under the backdrop of illustrious Spring Mountain, shown above, and back-breaking weeding on the home landscape neglected for years due to typical citizens' daily routines of ten hour workdays and drive-in takeaway before supine exhaustion.  The  idea is to help where real help is needed.  There is a swimming pool beneath the twelve foot high dandelion greens, which until recently formed a hanging jungle, all of which is gone now including dangerous dead undergrowth matted atop soil.  I still have much to do so please bear with me for another few weeks.  What is most amazing are the number of helicopters passing overhead.  They pass by in parades succeeding one another by sometimes a mere sixty seconds.  It goes on all day, probably at night too.  These are not news helicopters, these are something else and I have no idea what they are doing yet I've seen them as far away as Hoover Dam which means they are further south and then who knows where else.  I expect they will shortly turn into surveillance drones with trails conveniently blazed in advance of their arrival.  You have to ask yourself, what is the point?  Does illegal immigration matter anymore?  It seems to have given nourishment to these insane cartels which I do not think our peeps can control geographically.  Indeed, there is a long standing moral about this kind of activity, something about barn doors and horses escaping ...


Do we really need to be surveilled?  Or is this whole effort a boon to the security/weapons industries in the way healthcare is a boon to mega-insurers?  Considering the disaster rate, insurers could lose their pants immediately and live/breathe avoidance of payouts.  Perhaps to counter further failure of global economies, they've been handed the medical/pharmaceutical industries as the lifeboat of all time to stay afloat in our stormy situation.  And still more gilded life rings are passed around in spite of their obvious hastening of the planet's demise!  Do you believe this? Is it even possible? I really do not want to accept this as truth.  They are so off the wall in freely passing out destructive opportunities for financial gain they are either deaf, dumb and blind or they don't believe the very words out of their own mouths, like wooden dummies, seated on the knee of Satan, clucking sarcastically at the gullibility of the dirty unwashed, diseased, whining, broke and broken populations stuck into repetitive patterns of gimme gimme in all its indulgent guises.


The tragedy is to see it when it never should have happened and now it cannot be stopped.  In 1963, forty-nine eventful years ago, my child self asked my mother if I could use her aerosol can of hairspray to which she replied, sighing, "Well, do what you want, its your world now."  THEY KNEW THEN.  And they know now.  And they're never going to tell us either because mass chaos would ensue, the mass chaos that makes humanity the object of surveillance.  Equally sad is the gross underestimation of humanities' inherent goodness.  It is that part especially that stands out as you attempt to do something normal, something decent, like foodshopping or walking the dog, and you can't help but notice the fabric of society in vast disarray, everywhere, caring is for the stupid you know, you are supposed to be at home watching the stations' rotation of news casters, enjoying freecell on your cellphone and singling out those who are not in compliance with the program of delusion, instead of watching live scams go down block by block showing raw evidence of where the money is going and vanishing as some are obliviously unconcerned behind frescoed walls while others carry their domestic anguish into the street.  It is my observation, money is always the root of all problems.  It may not appear so, in fact it rarely will show itself, but look deeper.  It refuses to be acknowledged because such a root would be so crass.  When the means of exchange for goods and services turned into paper notes, our end was, from that moment on, written in the wind.


I certainly have enjoyed blogging with such a fine tribe of friends.  I see no reason to stop just because we've been lied to, cheated out of the future, cheated in every which way, robbed, trashed, humiliated and scammed, carpet bagged and incarcerated from birth into perpetual falseness as lifetime clowns in sad face, lingering these last few years for the distant roar of the crowd, the GMO popcorn, the Lions, what is left of them, breaking from their master's whip to foist centuries of anger denied them upon the innocent and stupid as the seams burst from overcrowding while the news choppers tape it all for the six o'clock hour where disaster is just another breathless ploy to score ratings which attract paying sponsors.

Jah Guide  - and be the good person that you are regardless of circumstance.  Do the right thing every time.  Blessings abound.

"we-just-wanna-feel-good"

There was a film a while back making the rounds of the pay networks, rated for mature audiences called Monsters Ball.  You may have seen it.  There is a line within the dialogue that comes to mind more often than usual for typically memorable film quotes, "I-just-wanna-feel-good." If you've seen the film, you know Lucretia (Halle Berry); needs to feel good, due to the fact she feels so bad and has been feeling irrecoverably bad for a long time and for very good reasons. She's lost her husband to prison execution, her home is foreclosed, one follows the other, right, her obese son a victim of hit and run, her only employment a two-week waitressing gig for someone else on vacation.

The truth in that line is everybody's truth, like it or not, but feeling good is definitely not in the cards for little people without going to extremes to avoid all the unnatural and complex detours into bureaucratic cul de sacs involved with surviving intact the nightmare our once-normal, once-routine lifestyles have now become.  Monsters Ball and Inception are but two recent examples, Inception being the portrait of a life lived in layers of dreams, anchored by a small brass top, once spun,  places the spinner into yet another dream, all of which are eventually supposed to mean something, but doesn't mean anything more than a digitized burp depicting the little peoples' everyday experience in the maze our lives have unwittingly entered.  Its a jungle out there.  A minefield.  You are advised to tread cautiously and read between the lines.  Supposedly fictional, these screenplays are written by someone.  To write well, the experience must ring true.  Fake, we are already too familiar with, you know it can't pass for truth on any level, but authentic writing requires the author to have walked in the shoes of his storyline on some level close to home.  Fiction, for the most part, is not exactly fictional if its in any manner worthy of your time.

The oxymorons of these days leave us speechless.  When you pause to examine your own behavior, there are missing in-betweens, those spaces where we breathe evenly, carry out routine tasks, go from one activity to the next seamlessly.  Instead, what is taking place is a halting awareness of the swinging pendulum, good to bad, bad to good, where life unfolds as sweetly as it will, or cruelly as it does.  We stand at the gates peering into the Zombie Food Court during its expanding construction program, a timeless wonder, a partnership of fundie icons engaging the wariest of travelers with Disney-Bellagio hallucinations in the interior PCP circular stair crawl to the stars.  Towering above them, we see down, lower and deeper into the  darkness of the void,  before jerking back on a bungee just in time, feet landing in dirt, weeds show clawing at the edges of the cliff overhanging the bubbling deep fry.  It is strange, this SCOTUS ruling, because if you go outdoors naked, you will certainly be hauled off by enforcement to the big house where you will be lawfully stripped-searched.  In this fashion, your nakedness would make it less physically and vocally exerting for the enforcement force to perform their in-house tasks.  How easy is it anyway to strip an already naked human being?  Have no doubt, such a case will likely be argued soon enough.  And have positively, absolutely, an entire mountain range of probability that however the case comes to the forefront, you will be strikingly horrified, alarmed all over again and repulsed at the stunning twists and turns presented in the ruling.  Ah, but this is everyday life in its twenty-first century normal.  A nonstop Ken Kesey bus as bullet train to destinations no one has ever been before or returned from. 

We've been dealing with a rocky relationship from the start, exacerbated with too much outside input and too little interpersonal communication.  Chart it if you like, you'll see the pattern easily.  Neither the North nor the South Poles know what the other feels, wants, desires, is drawn towards, dislikes, loathes, does with their time elsewhere, or acknowledges any naturally human traits that make up the integrity of the individual having given up on giving a damn long ago.  Both do what they wish, compassion is a lie, guilt omnipresent, existing day after day, year after year under  pressure to perform positively inside the chill winds of ambient abuse, all involved resolute in their correctness.  Sound familiar?

It appears unlikely we have the slightest control over what is taking place on the ground.  According to Mick's new essay, we do however have command over the universe in that our direct connection to the outcomes lie within each soul making up the body of the species known to us as homo sapien.  In other words, to quell planetary chaos, our job is simple, while from the perspective of the vain individual, impossible to accomplish.  To escape the repeating cycle of the little man forever locked into ancient patterns of self-annihilation writ small, then writ larger becoming even smaller, again reproducing himself as larger on some false ideal of his significance within the total scheme, we only need recall these words: Come Together.  Anything short of One Love insures continuance of ignorance resulting in guaranteed extinction and the dissolution of our planet into space dust ...  which could happen at any time, suddenly or gradually.  Were the living species warned the Pleistocene would wash over soils and habitats?  Of course, there were signs just as the signs are present today.  I don't find it frightening at all, its rather beautiful and predestined, freeing in fact, to be a part of the Universe completely unrelated to beginnings and endings beyond the indulgent, noxious deviations among our floundering species.  There at last is the reason many of us never feel good, confused, ill and out of context with the life experience, frequently succumbing to antagonists served up through the deep fry bubbling over into the mainstream, the TAO balance ever evident and taken for granted, void of compassionate understanding our entire borrowed existence in these flesh envelopes temporarily offered  us for the sole purpose to make whole the most natural and beneficial nutrient as only seven billion heavenly sources of purity and love can and must do. In our shallow minds, we insist on immediate gratification never imagining  its TAO partner, there can be no fast without slow.

A few years ago I presented a similar piece which was hotly contested by the few oldschool Ayn Randers still working their useless schtick exposing themselves as not nearly as intelligent as they saw themselves to be.  The point I made and make again is the same, the time nears we must get it together with our bredren in spite of their perspectives.  There is no enemy.  There are only destructive, degrading forces unaware of Universal consequence, forces which must adapt into awareness of the higher principles required for a peaceful transition as we join the Milky Way.  I see this as the only possibility for infinite growth - out there.  The infinite growth so treasured by little man treasuries willingly ensnared under the law of gravity, can only come about by living every moment with right intention, a state actually available to all by simply putting the matter of planetary continuation in the forefront of your every thought and action.

If the results of the effort do not come to fruition in our lifetime, it matters none, wherever its going, it will get there on a timetable of its own. To have seen and to have put in our seemingly miniscule portion is all that matters regardless of the outcome.  That we work towards  transition as bearers of positive change allows the possibility of positive change to take place at all.  We have no way of knowing our entrance into the Milky Way will be the last stop for Earth either.  When you can grasp a glimpse into the magnitude of future possibility based on unlimited Universal unknowns, as it eviscerates knowing though humanity's mundane meat-grinder, you will, it is guaranteed, at last feel good.

He say I know you, you know me
One thing I can tell you is
You got to be free
Come together, right now
Over me

*****

Heard of MiFi?  To date we have been using the internet in the typical manner humans waste their God-given potential, twisted as usual into a profit vehicle doubling as crowd control extending the false and backward interpretation of infinite growth within the low and growing lower consciousness of our species. It could instead, become a brilliant mechanism though which trust and OneLove deliver us from suicidal hopelessness and wallowing inside repeating circles of increasing failure, great minds saw this potential years before it was Bernaysed into its present existence.  You might recall BBS?  Forget Al Gore's claim, the web was originally developed through the selfless dedication of skilled human beings as a medium for sharing and building as seva, where enrichment fantasies were not a consideration. 

If you read the comments in the last post, you might have noticed I was down for awhile, plodding though the dumpsters of sleazoid bread and circuses carpetbagging though urbanista, destined to be overtaken yet again by yet another and another grand promenade for profit, here today, more tomorrow, until finally the babysitter's abusive hold could no longer contain the overflow of clownish justifications.  All it took was one enlightened being from the real world of compassionate intelligence to clue me in to what could be and I remain sincerely grateful.  If you can get onto MiFi, you'll do yourself a favor, but do exercise caution, overuse and misguided intention could take you away from our true purpose.  I leave you to light your own path.  Jah guide.

Bald Eagle, photography © Hot Springs Wizard,  2012

Bald Eagle family and fledgelings 24 hr webcam
turn on your speakers
from Bholanath, righteous.

the lady gaga fear and loathing smackfest

" ... Ah, my friends from the prison, they ask unto me
“How good, how good does it feel to be free?”
And I answer them most mysteriously
“Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?”
Dylan, Ballad in Plain D

There are many among our species more like ants than they realize.  Colonists feeding, toiling, regularly waging turf wars, the disabled, sick or different summarily dismissed for the greater good.  Where does leviathan royalty fit into this picture we ask? The Queen is their system unilaterally, interestingly similar to westernized homo sapien social orders, especially the "Disintegrate Iran into the mother of all resource/economic/hostile takeovers" Order of Wetiko Weasels.  We've heard Weasels are known for taking over the nests of other species.  One would imagine there is plenty of protective heat emitted from both sides, perp and victim and the backup choirs of both sucking the bias out of whatever justification for Weasel presence goes around.  Once the consequences of the Saturday Night Special, i.e.; primary Weasel weaponry, results of which may be infuriated bond holders, etc., no further global exchange is permitted for the original nest dwellers, at least for the duration of Phase Combat.  Although we have also heard there is a time tested, trust-based way around this. It is highly likely we'll be revisiting that particular system of exchange as the Weasels near ever closer to Full Spectrum Dominance with their unique brand of  bulldozing, garbage compacting, earth-moving genocide.  Start with clearing the property of human vegetable material, next, lay in sprinklers to soften the soil for tomorrow's state of the art interrogation basements.  I can't stand to see it, again, and again, the full body waxing formula cast in stone, Rumsfeld's pornographic dream of known unknowns come to full flower, a small and powerful coalition of roving international forces available, anytime, anywhere, quelling hotspots throughout the world on a moment's notice.  (Are you used to the former US commercial airports manager as SecDef in chief, yet? No?) And then what, when there is no more conquering to be accomplished, along with its attendant nightmares and serial slaughter, we ask, do they start over, reduced to warring over spoils among themselves, cuz we know they can't just quit and walk away? All to sustain the impossibility of infinite growth, swindling greenhorn shareholders into supporting the peak of the pyramid whose chief beneficiaries vanish from the headlines when the floor collapses, the ICC bent sideways under a burgeoning backlog of past patsy criminal investigations many of which may never see the light of justice if they want continuing economic cooperation from the global community, translated as continuing liquidity from the greater global printing press.  Geeze, its not like the joint squeaks by at all at the pleasure of Tony Soprano or something, is it? Once they get their hooks in, it only encourages more and worse of the same, forever fouling sovereign nests taken in the thrill of the kill, offing the seed of offspring to prevent any possibility future generations just might develop the temerity to look homeward as the Weasels settle in with faux Constitutional declarations and faux contractual claims to stolen fortune, unearned, undeserved. Rinse and repeat. 

"Everything is on the table."

When you read that sentence, or hear it, even typing it, it manifests an eerie cloudiness, a porous bamboo spear sizzling though razorwire, generating fabrications that nobody believes and eventually learns its too flammable to even whisper in most social interactions.  Who talks like that anyway?  What kind of mindset sashays atop the prized Persian carpet, hands in pockets, necktie pinned tightly in place, smears on a dour face melting into pockmarked pixels under the global lights and pronounces such a bizarrity?  With a pause before and after the sentence as if the weight of those words has long been calculated in the digitized, fusion funneled versions of Probabilities and Statistics which comes after Calculus if you're any good at it.  Or if you have a bit of the linear brain in you.  This action leads to this result, all of these actions lead to all of these results, one plus one equals two, questions are not permitted, nor is close examination, metaphorical comparisons are to be shot on sight or better, annihilate the entire region, apply chemtrails so we can breathe without gasping for CO2 by the time contracts are let.  A quadrillion zillion tiny slivers of colored glass and marbled mirror reflect the story echoing throughout pillared halls and archways in centuries old architectural splendor where all gather at dawn, on their knees, heads to the ground, genuflecting in unison, complete oneness in brotherhood with collective faith, collective unbearable loss and victimization bearing up under insane pressures, abandoned of all hope all ye of the formerly God-given right to exist in peace.  The man is on the move, Collaterals, beware, your time nears.  We urge you to locate refuge and  enact your evacuation plans as the No-fly Zone banner flutters into place above the shifting dunes and tightening straits, white phosphorus, escalating extreme munitions and eye in the sky surveillance portends the impossibility of any later exodus.  Cellos weep in minor, string sawing bass, intermission is over, the curtains part, Apocalypse Now, part two-redux, the part with body parts and streaming blood, guts and gore, little people flaying arms, running tear-streaked scattering,  the smell of Napalm in the morning ...

... The foreign sun, it squints upon
A bed that is never mine
As friends and other strangers
From their fates try to resign
Leaving men wholly, totally free
To do anything they wish to do but die
And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden... 
Dylan, Gates of Eden

We will never go forward if we cannot cease revisiting the past, the past being an Objects in the mirror are larger than they appear mix of gelatinous thought balloons and scratchy black and white home movies, scripted by early childhood patterns where the stars are the entire cast, seen through your lens, molded by antiquity, in memory lock-boxes, broken into simple paragraphs for easy recitation should the need arise, as it sometimes will, complete with peak special effects and categorized under autobiographical summaries.   If you took a microscope to the stills you would discover unidentifiable ghostly figures lingering in the background, beyond the camera's frame, mocking the events, cattle branding their own version of reality in challenge to yours.  Is this time going to be any different than any other time in all of history?  It is always the same Trail of Tears expanded to suit seven billion needy, seeking souls adjusting, adapting each with his own past and pregnant future, the movement of Jah people. 


*****

In dissection of the Instamatic public relations campaign surrounding the serial killings stirred with peyote bitters flavoring the cruelty wars on top of resource wars on top of wars of suppression and out of favor with the agency strawdog wars, it is stupefying once again to fully digest the utter lack of respect or appreciation for the mentality of ordinary citizen bystanders going about their lives hungering for normalcy, in spite of normal having lost any credibility as a lifestyle in sadsack Beetle Bailey's Fear and Loathing Smackfest.  We are pressed into "compassion without choice" for the untreated alkie, he is today portrayed as fallen hero, just another little person helplessly trapped exactly as millions of others suffering financial woes, foreclosure, a father of toddlers, the hero's marital union blissful, but stressed under economic hardship and loathing the separation of repeated Middle East deployments.  Amazing, huh?  We are tortured through media to love our homegrown Ted Bundies. Only three days ago, his alcohol problem and anger management arrests saturated the airwaves, including a brief mention of Major Someone you know from somewhere else attempting a sneak-in under the fence upon reaching base post slaughter, somehow he emerges to recover from one damning image only to morph into the confusing demeanor of victim.  Excuse me?  And those sixteen heinous acts of pointless murder?  Nine children, three women included, are they not the victims?  It becomes even harder separating fact from psycho fiction after pouring the entire situation into the re-election machine, coating the most merciless extinguisher in dripdry vote worthy good boy sheen, tell me again, God is on whose side today? Watch for the defense to A) plea post traumatic shock and B) cop rehab as justice. 

Take #9

And thus it was in blinding fog, mist, icy temps and the occasional downpour, life became unglued from its routines, its simplicity, its familiarity and warmth in a swiftly moving beam reach, heeling port towards an unchartable course in uncharted waters.  We can, when called, gather an invisible interior crew together for the heavy lifting, just follow the light.  The problem came when the headlights went out and I followed close behind a truck ahead, using its light, certain the Force would not let me down, which it has not, not when you are guided by the Force to start with and do not deviate from its intuited direction.  It is when we move around ignoring the voice we get into trouble, hassles, meet with unpleasant circumstance which has a way of tying us up for sometimes months, even years, decades, expensively, foolishly, so much time wasted on the disappointing, increasingly disastrous outcomes interacting with Wetiko complexities, intersecting with the cubic corners in the shadowy recesses of the poisoned hybrid mind, that could have been so easily avoided had we paid attention. They enjoy making it impossible to pay attention.

I don't exactly know anymore what to call the Force.  Some speak of the Divine, the Ineffable, the Creator or God, but beyond doubt, there is something there, greater and more of everything we will ever be.  This Force I am speaking of has it over Everything and we can only work to allow ourselves to be a willing vessel filled with this Force, hopefully receive direction, insight, answers, connections, talents and send it freely outwards as close to what we receive as possible, although it is completely impossible to recreate that which flows through the human vessle.  We will never be pure enough in this journey, in these bodies, clumsy with shabby excuses and justification.  If we purified everything about ourselves, we wouldn't even come close.  To accept our failing is to accept the guidance of the Force knowing we will never know anything absolute until the Force has chosen to accept us into the Human Realm. Always, in the process of ignoring the higher spirits, we end up in circles going nowhere.  This is why people fear the unknown, taking leaps at all, preferring to re-chart the old familiar easy courses, arriving at the same isolated destination repeatedly, lifetime after lifetime, hiding behind patterns that never worked in the first go-round, deluding themselves that somehow the ship can right itself while the great Sea of Humanity swallows whole the mast.

There has never been a single time I feared the leap.  Early on, likely during Chess, I asked my Father about his experiences at sea. The game paused as I was awed by stories that would make a nonbeliever's hair stand on end.  The Square Circle is appropriate today.  His Hellcat left the carrier in bad weather, not much time passed before he was lost high above an ink black ocean and mentally reviewed his flight manual.  He said he flew in a square circle for hours lowering and raising altitude as darkness blocked out his view.  Just before his fuel was exhausted, he spotted a pinpoint of light far in the distance and made it back to the flight deck safely.  He never panicked, never doubted, always sure with himself and his craft, guided to a safe harbor by a higher Force.

One technique that helps us survive whatever harm comes into our path is to pre-condition yourself for the experience.  I used to imagine in heavy weather during long cruises out of sight of land, without charts, bum radio, exactly what might occur if I lost my first mate overboard.  Mentally take all the steps required for a safe rescue during the worst possible circumstances.  As if you were blind, feeling your way as you went along, reaching for the helm because you memorized every navigation aid aboard and activated all the correct steps insuring safety leaving nothing to chance.  Heh, so I insisted on our adorning harnesses roped to the foredeck, forged onward under bare poles, preventing having to execute the Square Circle under the duress of darkness, overwhelmed in the noise of angry seas, or suffering a broken mast from a mainsail ripping jibe. 

Our photos today are general purpose, some California unseens and some Arizona unseens.  They have meaning to our essay as you desire, or not.  You should be able to enlarge with a right click to open link in a new tab.  Each of them is a part of an unfinished document -  from January to the present, Twenty Twelve, a sort of digital diary of highlights, when I remembered to take the camera, because the camera lives with my art supplies and the photos were not the only highlights.  The most consistent highlights I keep meeting are acts of human compassion, the number one emotion separating good from evil and its disease-compromised followers.  It does exist, its alive and well, you get the feeling in this town real fast that everybody knows and no one has any idea what to do about it.  That's because the mob was once KING here.  Long time residents know the drill. Extreme Wal*Mart cheap technology and undersized underwear appears to have dulled overt awareness however.  The illegal family man with toddler on shoulders was losing his pants showing full crack and red silk knickers weaving into Wal*mart's Ballroom Joblot as I pretended not to look.  I take that back, it was Wal*Marts Stadium NASCAR triple blowout joblot.  Their veneer plastic lawn funishings Halloween costumed as Teak @ $15.00 US gives you a clear view into the lifestyles of people whose awareness is, let's say, not keen. Nor should it be after the harrowing leaps all of them have taken for ... for what?  Keep it to yourself.  There are two sides to every story is the saying which we can rework to say each person comes at it from a unique perspective.  My father's words "Everybody has a story."

There is a block of text in the lower left margin on this page worth reading and reading often, especially when you are considering leaps and tying harnesses to yourself.   May you listen clearly to the Force whispering in your ear and guiding you through every hour, every day and night.  We are in full-on crazy time now.   We knew it was coming and we could not pin point the visual although omens often showed themselves.  Once again, we have all the answers within us, we must learn to recognize them and act appropriately.  Second chances in this journey have already been taken, third, maybe fourth, fifth and sixth chances, but that is all in the past.  This time is here and now, and you know the ropes as well as the crowd in this city knows the drill.  Our country and its idealistic ideals, the base, our lives upended, as an entire civilization disintegrates before our eyes, it seemed impossible to continue such an extremely dangerous, unhealthy, threatening course, every decision the wrong decision against all forms of life in existence on the Living Planet.  But roll on it does, exactly as the giant rubberhog tires on the 'Cat garbage compactor roll and grind, a two-story tall, massive death machine, pressing into miles of hills and valleys of the LA city dump, twice as high as myself ... I was driven to stare at it.  The Security guard asked me if I wanted to ride on it which I did and climbed into the front, squeezing against the inside window while the operator in back of me pressed hard into the continuously renewing sea of styrofoam, hairpins, toothpaste tubes, plastic shopping bags, half-eaten, loose and maggoty McDonald's kiddy meals, high chairs, mattresses, TVs, saran wrap, plastic bottles, crushed milk cartons with sideways straws, broken carseats, cheerios boxes, socks, cartoons scraps and gnarled  logos of the trash legal Personhoods litter over the planet in glee oozing though the dark spaces between each recognizable item in rivers of bubbling dung.  I apologize for not owning a digital then, much less a cell phone video cam.  Doomers would appreciate how fortunate I felt for the experience.  The highlight, of course, being sworn witness to the carnage in real time and fully explanatory, an undeniable truth in 3-D, flesh and blood in-your-face.  Few things on our journeys are so well defined. 

See lower left margin T'ao Ch'ien. "... ever away into this hundred-year life and beyond, my story and I vanish together like this."

the Marvin Gaye question

.. It's like you look right at something but you can't see it. Maybe the time isn't right. Maybe you're not right and then, it all comes together. ...  Visible

Not too long ago, and I cannot for the life of me relocate the link, I came across a charted map of currently operational Personhoods portrayed as bright, multicolored dots scattered throughout the world.  The entire side of the globe shown in the image was jammed with these dots, all bore long stems rooting from Earth's surface, the base, likely representing primary Personhoods' international holdings and offshore subsidiaries known by different names and run by local management promoting the same products, regardless into which category their intangible product lines fall.  It was breathtaking.  If you looked at it long enough, insights amp to max and multitudes of random incidental happenings and major news shattering events suddenly connect.  All that was required was this sole picture to put the pieces together making more sense than ever before, if sense can be made of these times.  It was not a relief.  It was/is so much worse than we imagine, so much bigger, so much more evil and probably the only way it possibly could have happened that our world would metastasize into what it is today.  The fault lies not with us, but with the enabling agencies, exactly as we see happening now with mandates and complexities layering over previous complexities. (re: The Catalytic Converter Model of Progress)  If you saw the same image and can supply a link for us, please do.  Sure, I could paint it, but why waste my paints on that which has allowed pure evil to flourish?  Besides, cough, cough, it would be too emotionally disturbing spending years chronicling such a work in water colors.

The first thing that comes to mind when you see such an image is the ubiquity of Personhoods in a ratio of land/sea to glowing dots.  You can barely see our Earth's surface.  When you realize the sheer magnitude of Personhoods' grasp over the planet, your thoughts naturally slide over to other groups who often appear to be everywhere too, groups such as the enemy so many western nations trawl their populations fearing.  What enemy?  Oh, you know, the bad guys who we hear the wars are supposed to eradicate so slaves people everywhere can live in freedom under God in GMO Consitutional plantations democracy.  Then you wonder who the bad guys are anyway and where they came from since you don't recall hearing about them during your youth when life, beautiful, carefree life, was an open promise to unlimited prosperity and growth.  You were taught every one of us had the potential to become president.  You were expected to exceed your parents' standard of living ... which, as you have noticed,  neither fantasy is not even close to what is happening here.  Somewhere back in the eighties and nineties, I recall noticing my mailbox only contained bills.   My Father, farther up the coast, told me he often missed expected documents because they became lost between the leaves of junk mail, advertising flyers, come-ons costumed as personal invitations, costumed in fake legal urgency, costumed newspapers containing only ads and disclaimers...  It was about this time I became seriously concerned with the quality of our lives.  It seemed weird to give away my sweat labor to so many unknown entities piling on the backs of each other, just to exist in a high rise bookshelf writing checks and balancing the budget all day, everyday.  It seemed there should be something greater to the life experience, something enriching, something real and holy, but everybody else was doing the same thing and meekly accepting it as BAU.  Most of all it pained me to bring up a brilliant child just so she could find herself repeating the same story in adulthood. It is with our own children the line is drawn. 

This chart-map under discussion makes it clear just exactly who is in charge.  Of course, they  had to invent an enemy or no one would go for it.  Imagine some highup Wetiko suit with his cohorts during their full body waxings at the spa, yukking it up, riffing on names for their enemy because evil-doers by itself was immature and off the mark.  "Hey, how about the toilet?"  Ha ha ha ha, chortles. "Well, how about the base?  Don't they mean the same thing?"  Even when its not funny, they laugh.  They needed an enemy that morphs, an invisible enemy that could issue serious demands from anywhere at anytime, exactly as international holdings and offshore subsidiaries provide the Personhoods and thus it was modeled after their own hierarchical structure since, after all, they know best how it is done.

I took the thought and applied it to every media crisis I read, huge to insignificant, from the proposed bills weaving through the Senate to the pitiful lives effected and found a rather tidy fit.  Maybe its just me and maybe not, maybe the wax room's original haha creation and their timely communiques are a front for easy entry into regions that possess the exact ingredients needed for products which promote the lifestyles of the rich and famous by elimination of the underdogs and perhaps in each new region the consequence is predictable, a real enemy comes forth, people willing to fight and die rather than sit in bookshelf hi rises writing checks day in, day out while slowly dying from Poison Syndrome, poisoned food, poisoned air, poisoned culture, poisoned history, loss of meaning and lack of purpose, poisoned torturous imprisonment, incited riots, slashed sovereign systems, burned-out villages, imported mercenaries with no allegiance to anyone and so forth.

If this is what its all about, Jah help us.  Merely the passing of time and performance of activities placed next to the results of those activities tell you all you need to know in the same way you need not listen to someone's words to know them, it is their actions that reveal their truth.  We are face to face with the Master Houdinis of all time and weak in the overbearing force of ambient abuse, made to feel crazy, paranoid, deficient, always on the edge of some unknown trauma bearing down from somewhere else all the while knowing none of that really applies to us because we are not crazy, we are going by life-learned lessons of right and wrong.  We possess a moral code, we are compassionate, and never, ever intentionally take others for granted.  Yet, this is a new beast walking among us, having cast his hungry net over Earth and looking toward Space seeking immortality.  Ah, who is it that runs the Space Program now?  And the mortgage crisis settlements ... Ummm, not even a white collar cell!  Bernie Madoff should then walk.  Perhaps someday Patsy will get to collect tiny paper Polynesian umbrellas as the softly blending warm Ultramarine floats around his ankles in fine white bubbles and verdant palm fronds soften his features unrecognizable in bronze shadow and aviators and hand-screened beachwear, that timeworn notice to water cultures everywhere - Occupado.  "RESERVED".  Siperyè.

This situation could go on long after we exit this journey.  The Personhoods' comprehensive approach to its universal strategy, a strategy I'll refer to as, UNISTRAT, is just one of many phases building towards an ever-evolving future of imaginary paradise, includes heavy duty  pro-lifers because they are picky choosey with all sorts of rigorous requirements to be met if one is to enter into the program at all, a program which if successful, requires reproducing themselves insuring everlasting power from the grave.  Whatever they could want becomes legal through holographic mass media events extremely well-attended by a nervous global population on tiny screens held in trembling hands toiling the dirt of the Earth in farmers' fields and sandstorms, igloos and Midwestern tornadoes, graduating into advancements beyond Hollywood where judgements are formed and opinions molded in policy, a circus, again a circus, so that no one really knows What's Goin' On.  Mother, mother There's too many of you crying, Brother, brother, brother There's far too many of you dying ...

Whom will they look to when soylent green peaks?   That would be the great defining moment for the hybrid-Human species... unless, there's always an unless, the bunkers are made from the same lame imports as everything else while nuclear winter claws out what remains of the Ozone.

From Chapter 57, v. 1-7: The TAO

1. think of yourself as an empire to govern, explore, work and live in

2. a man stretched between heaven and earth governs the totality of the self with ritual action and intent

3. a man stretched between heaven and earth resolves conflicts within his border with surprise, creativity and the unusual

4. a man stretched between heaven and earth embraces the universe by not interfering with it at all

5. it is a matter of degree to see yourself as a ruler who governs according to a definite plan  reacting creatively to the unexpected while also allowing your kingdom to unfold naturally

6. the ancient child asks where is this kingdom

7. the kingdom is within me
within each of us