Anything can happen

So much trouble in the world
So much trouble in the world

Bless my eyes this morning
Jah sun is on the rise once again
The way earthly thin's are goin'
Anything can happen.

You see men sailing on their ego trip,
Blast off on their spaceship,
Million miles from reality:
No care for you, no care for me.

So much trouble in the world;
So much trouble in the world...

Yes I.  Indeed.  Anything can happen ... and will and does.  As you know well, by now, at this time in this form in this particular go around on this spectacular Earthly plane.

Imagine, for example, what the next leaders of the multitudes of lives and lifestyles within our geography will be doing at their polished desks among all the rare antiquities surrounded by their special chosen Cabinet. Think about how they think of you - and then think about the generations to come.

Are we in agreement that it is absurd that the legal personhoods continue to flood coastal cities with waterfront development?  We wonder if the Blonde vs. Blonde voting populations also find it absurd.  I think not.  With one, we get to be subjects of the Roman Empire on Steroids, with the other, slave gladiators.  As in anything can happen perhaps nothing like what I've just described will happen. Judging by the American experience since WW2, a good bet would be no positive change, but an exponential growth of what we already have and see now - which will, naturally, unfold rapidly since this is how they already do it, momentum is increased at every opportunity and the opportunities are unlimited.  My friends, we are in uncharted territory. 

UNLESS

You see it for what you always saw it, lodged in buildings built by slaves housing the slickest of the slick, where they do what they think are slick things.  These things are rarely in and nowhere near our favor because people who make rules always make rules in their favor whether they know it or not.  Their favor means anything further separating them from those who are disfavored, be it status, power, visibility or loyalties favoring all whom they perceive to be just like themselves.

To live a happy life, forget about them and enjoy JAH suns and moons. Teach the children love and compassion.  Stay with your own creativity, it never fails to keep you high and away, above the BS and free.  Keep your mind open and learning.  Stay away from judgements, instead look for the overview. 

Surely there are many who sacrifice enjoying a happy life out of sheer gluttony for status, power and visibility.  They made their choices long ago and we should not expect them to change now, therefore, it is up to us to live our happy lives as best we can.  By using the term "happy life", I mean living a life in which you respect your own existence and everyone else's also.  If you have love for yourself, it radiates into everything you do, everyone you see, all species you come across, not just those with whom you are already close, but the "strangers" you frequently meet in your journey. More often than not, I am a little shocked and pleased to find new like minds where I never thought I would.  For Izzy who commented on our last post he wished it was easier to find like minds off line as it is for him online, I would think the more time you can spend offline, the more you give of yourself, you come across like minds.  Another thing that must be stated about happy lives isn't exactly Izzy's issue as he stated it, rather it is a common trait among human beings to create a pattern in the unconscious mind of just how a stranger must appear and sound in order to communicate with them.  It is extraordinarily beneficial to recognize that trait is a survival throwback to the dawn of Humankind and has virtually no basis in your mission on Earth within the Heavens.  All uncharted territory is opportunity.





Verse: So Much Trouble In The World
Bob Marley & The Wailers, from Songs of Freedom

Things are not what they appear regardless of what you are told.

Attention: Love Tribe

Don't miss this rant.


I've been offline for a week, not by choice.  One of those times when the device was a few years past due for replacement and was ignored.  A wonderful world suddenly opened as the full moon came upon us, so much life to be experienced, so much to digest, contemplate and meditate upon, I highly recommend getting away from the web at least one week out of every month if not more often.
Meanwhile, A new system shockingly came into my hands, running WIN8.  Yes, I am extremely grateful, but it will take weeks to get it down. I never used an iphone so this touch screen concept is kinda weird.  When you turn it off, the screen is smeared with fingerprints.  Makes interesting wall paper.  ... not

There will be mini-posts here in the interim.  Hearts and hugs to all.

we can do this now

The Trout Clan's Murph and Freeacre, have had a disastrous fire wiping out their formerly exquisite property made by holding hands with Nature.  I don't know the details of how it began, but they are in the midst of starting over which has been held back as usual by the ARGHHHH insurance industry.  Please see their new post and offer what you can by way of assistance in any and all areas to speed healing.  We know them to be an incredibly hard working and resilient couple and I have no doubt they will, at some point in the future, discover this disaster as a blessing in disguise. 

Let's help them however we can, even if it is only through your good words, I am sure it will help.  Thank you.

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! 

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.

a select destiny

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

seeking Yin in a Yang existence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nina, some images upstairs, downstairs tent, pond on walk to sea with lotus's and crocs. Etc.

Night coming, walk 20 mins to camp.

One Love

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

independence camp

off the grid

the road home

Lotus Lagoon in Tureyslandia

stairs to enlightenment

Jah Pups

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

Interruptions During a Cage Match

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

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

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

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

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

From Vivek:
Hey America ...

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

From Paul Craig Roberts:
An Economy Destroyed

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

Let's get down to business

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

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

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

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

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

Two worlds ... One love

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

this wire fencing

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

Buffalo in wool

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

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

postcard from Planet Backwards

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

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

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

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

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

the Kids are alright

Amos keeps an eye on his family from the big house

Mother Scarlett watches too

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

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

Listening to the wind

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

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

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

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

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

Bella's little girls, 15 minutes into the world

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

Stella working on a treat

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