Erin and Esteban asked me to include some words for our late poet, neil's book, currently in process. I believe, but do not know for a fact, it is an anthology of his poetry gathered over several years from the many jewels he scattered widely across the blogs. A number of readers of this blog were equally as fond of him as I was and very likely have something to say as well. If you would like to add your own expression to mine, we can send it together to Erin and Est. My email address is in my profile, just scroll down on the right sidebar.
Bags of Love par avion
neil sent them to me
they arrived by Fedex
at my doorstep
like foil wrapped bon bons
and long stemmed roses
from half a world away
from neil's world of struggle
and loneliness
and rejection, frustration,
local women were a problem
none could be relied upon
to say what they really felt
until it was over
He longed for honesty
because he could never be anything but.
so we gave him honesty in turn
although it was known to be displayed
across the globe
anyway, that wasn't even an afterthought
his honesty
so golden, blush and bird's egg blue
speckled with starlight and moonbeams
an honesty that could save mankind
they say such purity doesn't exist
It existed/exists
we were there, in the right place at the right time
to witness and participate
and take it to our heart of hearts
neil is/was my heartbroken
little boy of Dickens come to life
navigating narrow cobblestone streets
thick with Prufrock sawdust and
yellow fog
in a cap and tattered knickers facing
life out of his chippy's tattered van
homeless it was almost as if
there was nowhere to just be
sometimes his chips were down
And then, a gathering renaissance
rainbows beamed Monet gardens spilt over
into lapis lazuli rivers reflecting moonbeams
his vision clear, his darkness spent
his pastures' promise in the air
everywhere I looked
his writings on the wall
here, here and there and there
positive acknowledgements
arranging the love gathering towards
an indefinite purpose
some sweet finite destination
lay close at hand
And now of course we know
***
In reflection of the spirit
living inside my Dickens Goodheart
in this mortal world of mortal adversaries
in this bleeding, unnatural, world of universal mayhem
and deceit
neil chose a better place
his soul so clean uncompromising
unblemished
rerouted to the higher plane
all karma paid.
peace...
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2013. Show all posts
Saturday, January 11, 2014
Friday, April 19, 2013
the demonstration of a test
It was easily three weeks ago I was doing my usual, walking the Hound. It was an extended period of multiple tests, one after another, coinciding with each other, piling on one another, you might be experiencing the same thing, my mind stretched grid-like in the demonstrations arising, working out the balancing act required to meet each one, confidently, making the most of each as they were presented and recognized for what they were. The Hound snatched something nasty from the bushes at night and whomped it down before I could inspect. He became ill, of course. In the course of getting him to the vet, the rockbuggy would have to be charged and a new starter meant getting to the car guy. These are classic everyday tests we experience in overpopulation, nothing is as it would be today if only ... You may have noticed these tests come in bunches. Certainly someone, or one key element, along the chain of multiple tasks required would flake and more, each test required it be done correctly in order to proceed to the next. As soon as it came to me the combination of dog, vet and auto mechanic was a test and the scenery and cast were all part of the demonstration, all doubt vanished. And still, I barely know my way around in this place. Driving around is always a sort of hunt and peck affair, but its small here in my quadrant and with enough time, you can reach whatever destination you want. I was up to the challenge. As a person who has lived jungle and rural for half of their life, to find my way around a complicated maze of ramps and overpasses in that special searching style explains my lack of interest in knowing where anything else is located, with the exception of what it is I want to find within every sector of post NWO structures, or would that be Neo-NWO, whale-gulping our Mother's resources in every skinflint shape and flavor. I refused the GPS app for a similar reason, why do we need this shit? GPS addicts tell me how fabulous and convenient are these talking beltway devices, but they should know better by now. I would take offense, if such a thing were possible, except I can't be offended by not being interested in mass consumer hypnotics to quiet the methane-belching cattle.
There are some days or nights or both that run by us magically in their perfection. Its as if you were looking at a tapestry of the hours woven as it happens, where the yarns, blending colors and weave explain it all in seamless mesh, as one activity naturally leads to another, each demonstration sweetly paves the way into the middle of the next. The Pup is cool now thanks to his vet who did what I wanted her to do and relinquished her own plan for dog te$ting and just handed over the goodies. I'd done my homework online. The rockbuggy took us there because 1) I got an unexpectedly easy charge for the battery, and 2) the car guy did his replacement at the speed of, heh, light.
There's more, two beat up strays were hanging around the 'hood during this same period. You could see they'd had it rough and for a long time. Various neighbors were leaving out food and water, but not taking them in. It was pretty cold too. I worried about their nights, under bushes, escaping the MAN, but the way they were roaming around the houses after dark said they were hungry, tired of exposure to the elements and in need of family. My own pup was worried too. For him, the message was loud and clear. I called a friend who has adoption connections and was told if I could bring them to her, she would get them medical attention. Ah ... the test took a sudden turn. I'll save some space here and just mention they now live permanently in a nice big heavily-fenced house with dog door, huge backyard and pool and are brushed, bathed and putting on weight, best of all, they are cherished. You might think I denied them their freedom, but the city kill shelter is reportedly worse than Abu Graib. The same people who would call the dogcatcher, and there are multitudes of them, are the same patriotic Roundup Ready racist fringe who are devoted to their version of cleanliness is Godliness.
The list of tests goes on, those I mentioned were important, but apparently not final. The tests are actually life, why we are here. Sometimes, a test will appear as minor, the reason for that is to gauge your ability to acknowledge they are tests. To use a TAO-like balancing example, without awareness of what it is that is taking place on a higher level, there is no understanding at all, i.e.; ignorance. Further, failing a challenge that you arranged, attaches itself to your core, negatively, from negativity into certain defeat and self pity.
An interesting test is giving small sums, if it is done compassionately, without expectation of reward such as currying favor or calculating return, there is no element of debt which changes everything that the recipient was preparing himself to feel badly about in advance of asking for what it was he needed. There is a beautiful Universe that exists where expectation and anticipation, rewards and dishonor are erased from the activity. There is no hypocrisy, no building of pre- and post-fabricated animosity. It can be for some a very difficult test especially in overpopulation, everyone you know running short of funds and thus quickly friendless, rampant corruption all around and the fear of being labeled with trash nicknames behind their backs. It works both ways when done wrong, the giver is a sucker and the taker is a deadbeat.
I well remember being so crazy hungry I actually called home collect, thousands of miles away, to beg, and looked down at the Lower East Side street beneath my bare feet before the call connected and staring back at me was a twenty lying on the pavement. In terms of demonstrations and tests, the message was clear and it was multipart on numerous levels, all of them corrections and lasting lessons. None of them forgotten to this day, especially the part about the futility of dwelling so intensely on fear of the future. Given awareness, all works out as it was designed.
Just because I am posting about beautiful things such as tests in no way negates the egregious, bloody happenings "out there". The time has arrived to make serious plans to secure a more survivable future. As a reminder, I am reposting Scrapwood's contribution of T'ao Ch'ien's After Liu Ch'ai-Sang's Poem ...
I'd long felt these mountains and lakes
beckoning, and wouldn't have thought twice,
but my family and friends couldn't bear
talk of living apart. Then one lucky day
a strange feeling came over me, and I left,
walking-stick in hand, for my western farm.
No one was going back home: on those outland
roads, farm after farm lay in empty ruins,
but our thatch hut's already good as ever,
and you'd think our new fields had been
tended for years. When valley winds turn
cold, spring wine eases hunger and work,
and though it isn't strong, just baby-girl
wine, it's better than nothing for worry.
Distant -- as months and years pass away here,
the bustling world's racket grows distant.
Plowing and weaving provide all we use.
Who needs anything more?
Away, ever away into this hundred-year life and
beyond, my story and I vanish together like this.
There are some days or nights or both that run by us magically in their perfection. Its as if you were looking at a tapestry of the hours woven as it happens, where the yarns, blending colors and weave explain it all in seamless mesh, as one activity naturally leads to another, each demonstration sweetly paves the way into the middle of the next. The Pup is cool now thanks to his vet who did what I wanted her to do and relinquished her own plan for dog te$ting and just handed over the goodies. I'd done my homework online. The rockbuggy took us there because 1) I got an unexpectedly easy charge for the battery, and 2) the car guy did his replacement at the speed of, heh, light.
There's more, two beat up strays were hanging around the 'hood during this same period. You could see they'd had it rough and for a long time. Various neighbors were leaving out food and water, but not taking them in. It was pretty cold too. I worried about their nights, under bushes, escaping the MAN, but the way they were roaming around the houses after dark said they were hungry, tired of exposure to the elements and in need of family. My own pup was worried too. For him, the message was loud and clear. I called a friend who has adoption connections and was told if I could bring them to her, she would get them medical attention. Ah ... the test took a sudden turn. I'll save some space here and just mention they now live permanently in a nice big heavily-fenced house with dog door, huge backyard and pool and are brushed, bathed and putting on weight, best of all, they are cherished. You might think I denied them their freedom, but the city kill shelter is reportedly worse than Abu Graib. The same people who would call the dogcatcher, and there are multitudes of them, are the same patriotic Roundup Ready racist fringe who are devoted to their version of cleanliness is Godliness.
The list of tests goes on, those I mentioned were important, but apparently not final. The tests are actually life, why we are here. Sometimes, a test will appear as minor, the reason for that is to gauge your ability to acknowledge they are tests. To use a TAO-like balancing example, without awareness of what it is that is taking place on a higher level, there is no understanding at all, i.e.; ignorance. Further, failing a challenge that you arranged, attaches itself to your core, negatively, from negativity into certain defeat and self pity.
An interesting test is giving small sums, if it is done compassionately, without expectation of reward such as currying favor or calculating return, there is no element of debt which changes everything that the recipient was preparing himself to feel badly about in advance of asking for what it was he needed. There is a beautiful Universe that exists where expectation and anticipation, rewards and dishonor are erased from the activity. There is no hypocrisy, no building of pre- and post-fabricated animosity. It can be for some a very difficult test especially in overpopulation, everyone you know running short of funds and thus quickly friendless, rampant corruption all around and the fear of being labeled with trash nicknames behind their backs. It works both ways when done wrong, the giver is a sucker and the taker is a deadbeat.
I well remember being so crazy hungry I actually called home collect, thousands of miles away, to beg, and looked down at the Lower East Side street beneath my bare feet before the call connected and staring back at me was a twenty lying on the pavement. In terms of demonstrations and tests, the message was clear and it was multipart on numerous levels, all of them corrections and lasting lessons. None of them forgotten to this day, especially the part about the futility of dwelling so intensely on fear of the future. Given awareness, all works out as it was designed.
Just because I am posting about beautiful things such as tests in no way negates the egregious, bloody happenings "out there". The time has arrived to make serious plans to secure a more survivable future. As a reminder, I am reposting Scrapwood's contribution of T'ao Ch'ien's After Liu Ch'ai-Sang's Poem ...
I'd long felt these mountains and lakes
beckoning, and wouldn't have thought twice,
but my family and friends couldn't bear
talk of living apart. Then one lucky day
a strange feeling came over me, and I left,
walking-stick in hand, for my western farm.
No one was going back home: on those outland
roads, farm after farm lay in empty ruins,
but our thatch hut's already good as ever,
and you'd think our new fields had been
tended for years. When valley winds turn
cold, spring wine eases hunger and work,
and though it isn't strong, just baby-girl
wine, it's better than nothing for worry.
Distant -- as months and years pass away here,
the bustling world's racket grows distant.
Plowing and weaving provide all we use.
Who needs anything more?
Away, ever away into this hundred-year life and
beyond, my story and I vanish together like this.
Friday, April 05, 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 ...
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!
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 ...
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!
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Do No Harm
This past week's community slanderfest is probably not over, just in remission until someone else picks it up. Therefore, the following lesson is particularly appropriate when considering New World Thug Behavior and Carelessness. Much gratitude goes to Scrapwood for sending in the 59 Lojongs. It will go on the left sidebar in the Free NeverOverdue Library shortly so you will have immediate access to all 59 teachings and the preliminaries.
"... The Mind-Training Slogans, #31
Each Friday, Acharya Judy Lief, teacher in the Shambhala tradition of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, comments on one of Atisha's 59 mind-training (Tib. lojong) slogans, which serve as the basis for a complete practice.
Atisha (980-1052 CE) was an Indian adept who brought to Tibet a systematized approach to bodhicitta (the desire to awaken for the sake of all sentient beings) and loving-kindness, through working with these slogans. Judy edited Chogyam Trungpa's Training the Mind (Shambhala, 1993), which contains Trungpa Rinpoche's commentaries on the lojong ("mind-training") teachings.
#31. Don't malign others
When we malign someone, our intention is to cause harm. Our words are spiteful and ill-spirited. There is a saying that “sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” But in fact words do have power and they certainly can hurt.
In working with the slogans, we are working not only with our actions, but with what is behind them. For instance, when we say something, we should ask ourselves why we are saying it, and for what purpose. Will what we say help the situation or not? Are we trying to connect with someone or get rid of them? Are we trying to help them or to destroy them? Or maybe we are talking just to talk, to fill the space because we are uneasy with the silence.
If we need to malign others to make us feel good about ourselves by comparison, we will never feel all that great. And at the other extreme, when we encounter people who are exceptional, that approach will make us feel pathetic in comparison. According to this slogan we should stop that whole destructive approach.
Not maligning does not mean that we do not notice differences in people. It does not mean that we should not recognize people’s hateful or destructive attitudes and weaknesses when we encounter them or that we should not speak up. Everything does not just become a mush. But when we see other people’s problems without encumbering our perception by the need to prop up our own insecure ego, we can respond more directly and appropriately. By stopping the habit of maligning, not only will we do less harm to others, but we will also begin to free ourselves from the need for such props.
Today’s practice
Pay attention to your speech and to how you talk about and to other people. What is the difference between speaking critically and using speech to harm or to destroy? ..."
***
I would rather, any day, be thought naive rather than publicly slander another, especially when that person is already down, battling demons no one can dispel but themselves. I wish I were naive sometimes, ignorant of the viciousness that can arise when expectation and motive are shredded in the bright light of reality. Naive to the increasing overtone of violence rocking our world off its axis every single day, every hour, somewhere, blind to the immediate flare of tempers feeling wronged by whomever, wanting whatever. If you look at these situations closely, you would find there are always two elements at the root of conflict, one is of course, money, the other, credibility. The belief systems accompanying our existence in western culture encourages the value of those two elements exponentially to the point that all most people are exposed to is violent in its nature and always disastrous in result. It does not have to be this way, it never did. As Ran Prieur quoted on the idiocy of property ownership and John of Survival Acres presented in his essay on food production being at the root of all civilizations, both break down the walls of perception of why vicious conflict, bloodletting, enslavement, abject penury, injustice and arsenals of weaponry never had to be the roadmap to food security, peace, satisfaction and freedom. In fact, we should be aware by now, our quickly depleting world seems to be composed of frivolous thug-appeal, violent "advancements" against humanity at large principally for the expansion of wealth among the already wealthy, i.e.; more food and property than can possibly be consumed by offspring of offspring. In the present, it is trusted more than ever, violence is the only means to continue the atrocious, hideous charade. As it stands now, this ongoing tragedy ends only when we die. There has always been a better way for mankind to survive. The reason Thug World thrives is violence is expedient, lacking clarity of thought and convenient, whereas exercising intelligence and compassion for all beings requires love, that inconvenient marvel that always gets in the way of false desire.
We who seek awareness are on the right track for the most part, but it is evident the violence all around us is a highly contagious disease which is immunized against and blown away entirely with LOVE.
"... The Mind-Training Slogans, #31
Each Friday, Acharya Judy Lief, teacher in the Shambhala tradition of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, comments on one of Atisha's 59 mind-training (Tib. lojong) slogans, which serve as the basis for a complete practice.
Atisha (980-1052 CE) was an Indian adept who brought to Tibet a systematized approach to bodhicitta (the desire to awaken for the sake of all sentient beings) and loving-kindness, through working with these slogans. Judy edited Chogyam Trungpa's Training the Mind (Shambhala, 1993), which contains Trungpa Rinpoche's commentaries on the lojong ("mind-training") teachings.
#31. Don't malign others
When we malign someone, our intention is to cause harm. Our words are spiteful and ill-spirited. There is a saying that “sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” But in fact words do have power and they certainly can hurt.
In working with the slogans, we are working not only with our actions, but with what is behind them. For instance, when we say something, we should ask ourselves why we are saying it, and for what purpose. Will what we say help the situation or not? Are we trying to connect with someone or get rid of them? Are we trying to help them or to destroy them? Or maybe we are talking just to talk, to fill the space because we are uneasy with the silence.
If we need to malign others to make us feel good about ourselves by comparison, we will never feel all that great. And at the other extreme, when we encounter people who are exceptional, that approach will make us feel pathetic in comparison. According to this slogan we should stop that whole destructive approach.
Not maligning does not mean that we do not notice differences in people. It does not mean that we should not recognize people’s hateful or destructive attitudes and weaknesses when we encounter them or that we should not speak up. Everything does not just become a mush. But when we see other people’s problems without encumbering our perception by the need to prop up our own insecure ego, we can respond more directly and appropriately. By stopping the habit of maligning, not only will we do less harm to others, but we will also begin to free ourselves from the need for such props.
Today’s practice
Pay attention to your speech and to how you talk about and to other people. What is the difference between speaking critically and using speech to harm or to destroy? ..."
***
I would rather, any day, be thought naive rather than publicly slander another, especially when that person is already down, battling demons no one can dispel but themselves. I wish I were naive sometimes, ignorant of the viciousness that can arise when expectation and motive are shredded in the bright light of reality. Naive to the increasing overtone of violence rocking our world off its axis every single day, every hour, somewhere, blind to the immediate flare of tempers feeling wronged by whomever, wanting whatever. If you look at these situations closely, you would find there are always two elements at the root of conflict, one is of course, money, the other, credibility. The belief systems accompanying our existence in western culture encourages the value of those two elements exponentially to the point that all most people are exposed to is violent in its nature and always disastrous in result. It does not have to be this way, it never did. As Ran Prieur quoted on the idiocy of property ownership and John of Survival Acres presented in his essay on food production being at the root of all civilizations, both break down the walls of perception of why vicious conflict, bloodletting, enslavement, abject penury, injustice and arsenals of weaponry never had to be the roadmap to food security, peace, satisfaction and freedom. In fact, we should be aware by now, our quickly depleting world seems to be composed of frivolous thug-appeal, violent "advancements" against humanity at large principally for the expansion of wealth among the already wealthy, i.e.; more food and property than can possibly be consumed by offspring of offspring. In the present, it is trusted more than ever, violence is the only means to continue the atrocious, hideous charade. As it stands now, this ongoing tragedy ends only when we die. There has always been a better way for mankind to survive. The reason Thug World thrives is violence is expedient, lacking clarity of thought and convenient, whereas exercising intelligence and compassion for all beings requires love, that inconvenient marvel that always gets in the way of false desire.
We who seek awareness are on the right track for the most part, but it is evident the violence all around us is a highly contagious disease which is immunized against and blown away entirely with LOVE.
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