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.
Showing posts with label life is art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life is art. Show all posts
Saturday, November 08, 2014
Friday, December 30, 2011
as we go on
By now, I'm sure you're hip to Survival Acres. I've always been fond of John's way with words, perhaps its that weird, inexplicable ministry background infrequently referred to in his work. John's opinion on the evolutionary phenomena of information sharing is right on the money and insightful in that my enchantment with the web diminishes in parallel with the exponential rise of social networks, tech toys, apps and everything that is nothing less than sheep's ear tags for the identification of which herd belongs to which plantation and are they stupid enough yet, i.e.; finished fully, for the slaughterhouse? I do hope authors don't mind my brevity, I've done this before in comment links, when I nutshell a sort of boost for their labor by saying John doesn't mince words or overlook a particular iconic angle in the current zeitgeist even when others will perceive it as just another part of the background noise, its like white noise now, hypnotic, where it is what-it-is and it has no impact on anything happening out there and a worsening impact on what is happening inside. On a lengthy sabbatical in the Nevada desert, I lived not far from the drone nativity colony during which not a day passed I wasn't awakened by drones in training. They whine. Imagine a nightmarish Ellen Ripley-style drooling Alien, whining. All these recent stories in the media about the sudden use of drones on American soil are paychecks being collected for clicking on the press releases in their email. I was told by the locals in 2006, very nearly six years ago, in no uncertain terms, drones honed-in on a prison escapee inside an aqueduct which showed on the thermal sensor as a bright red line around the prisoner's seemingly hidden body.
Lying is ubiquitous from birth. We exit the womb into feeling-censored expression. Take a typical day and see if you can intermingle with a varied mix of personalities, including yourself, and see how many lies you hear and how many you tell. There is courtesy ... and then there is compassion. Both are on the wane with compassion actually being the real basis for love and for friendship, as the two are one. Then there is the disappointment one leaves themselves open to in showing the real self and finding whomever it is that you are interacting with won't go there and no matter how you try, there is no reciprocation. Of course we know there is a way, but few dare to tread that path for long, however heroic. The only saving grace I've ever found that works every time is Struggle On, life is about learning and if its truth you seek and truth you discover, it is a blessing regardless of the occasion. Even then, you cannot fix another person, you can only understand. With someone you are close to, understanding knows no limits unless you are being endangered which sounds a lot like the situation we are living through at this very moment in time, taking place up there under the stage lights of the main arena, the lame new world. We read, we interpret, we read more, we see the illusion come to life, we actually see the catch pens under construction, there can be no doubt and yet, it just goes on, it drones and whines and eats itself only to come out the other end as worse than it went in. Somehow, just when it appears the worst is upon us still we are able to reach for some rosy part of the day to lift us above the rabble into that sweet change where the air is fit to breathe and the soul is stirred. Bholanath's Wildlife Center and 'hood pics of the animals and avian families do it for me. So does Jimi Hendrix with Red House (over yonder).
It is extraordinarily rare to come across a person who is completely straight all the way regardless of circumstance, situation, dialogue in any and all relationships. We strive for this and too frequently fall short. This is a facet of the human condition, but being of the human species doesn't require that we cannot learn from our animal teachers.
Today I found a fallen Hawk, as magnificent a creature in death as in life, and carried him by his legs to a picturesque soft spot away from the road where his soul would enter the Animal Kingdom in natural peace. His lower backside was black charred, otherwise he was perfectly intact leading me to think perhaps he had some accident atop the phone pole, a favored place to hang while hunting. I'm hearing this kind of electrical equipment has to be grounded, so I can't explain the nasty burn. All that can be said about it is whatever happened, this true feathered monarch came in contact with something unnatural. In other words, he bumped up against the anthropogenic system and it cost him as it always costs all who meet with bumps. What is unusual and wildly prevalent are those who choose to participate in the entertainments, the circuses such as boxing, rodeos, Nascar, casinos and porn. These things are different worlds of territorial testosterone gone to extremes enabled by the highest bidder. This too is all another avenue of spectacular riches and occupies the fascinations of a huge part of the worshiping public with whom we interact making all that shared information gathered over the years absolutely worthless in changing the ways we are impacted in order to proceed through this journey.
The Internet has only pointed out in starker terms what has always been happening. Before the web, sometimes we heard it might be happening, now we read it happens regularly as if each event, crime, scam, rip, enslavement, hustle is brand new, but it has always been the vicious writhing mass of tortured secrets and inhumanity compounded with greater heights of inhumanity that you see unfolding before you now. It has no repair. Beauty and contentment are where you find them. You must take the steps to your own freedom. As I have said, compassion is the magic key. But like all keys, sometimes it is lost and you have to figure out where you left it and how you could possibly find it again in these times. Recently, I lost mine and got a case of serious trepidations racing back to the spot where I last remembered having it. A woman I'd never met drove up behind me, shouting "I've got your keys!" Sure enough, she'd even left a note at the spot. Keys, cards and ID were safe and as I took note of the excited children in her SUV (and obvious lookalike family members visiting for Christmas) the warm glow of gratitude enveloped me enough to hug her and leave the scene spiritually intact. I felt like I could post again. Breathe again. Kiss the dogs and hug the Oaks, fall on my knees in prayer for the Hawk that his body rest in peace and his soul fly on. That my friends I've never met are unknown multitudes of the ones already visiting, feeling just like us and deserving of whatever, small comfort we bring each other in these times of terror, joy, lies, loss of dignity and respect, humiliation, confusion, ecstasy, despair, etc., stepping away from extremes into our own personal freedom to speak what is on our mind and share what is in our hearts or simply dwell.
In truth, we can step out of the noise anytime, it isn't us, it holds not a scintilla of reality, so why be in it at all? It is not important to puff up ourselves with the Dangerous Life being offered through technology, the mob, sensationalistic media and titillating headlines and the people who believe it all and seemingly know no better, as if there is only one way to live, one way to love, one way to gain, if they know what it is to gain, seeing only the gain that morphs itself into loss, fully blank when it comes to deep wells of purity available everywhere yet invisible, but the life-giving source from which all must drink if it means anything to experience the years full of changes spent on Planet Earth. Everything we learn about each other reinforces the observation that no one is immune without inflicting great damage to themselves.
Whatever 2012 has in store for our planet, since we have survived so much already only to arrive here at this time of witnessing, there is not much that could take it away. And if there was something, some disaster, something tragic, have we not weathered these storms before and before that? I have watched the sun rise dawn over the mast discovering my low little sloop sailing in a school of sharks off the southern coast of the Dominican Republic, I have lost power on a windless day over knife-craggy reefs breaking the sea surface and figured out how to bleed a diesel while rocking back and forth as the water slapped the beam. I have held on for 6 hours to a T-Bar in a blizzard looking down at snowy treetops singing Calypso, Sparrow tunes actually, and walked on single train tracks above the surly canyons of British Columbia, stared down the barrel of a gun held by a hostile dealer and wrecked motorcycles on Riverside Drive at rush hour, leading me to think 2012 will be interesting if anything... May the New Year be the best ever for each person reading here.
If wishes grew on trees...
One Love
Lying is ubiquitous from birth. We exit the womb into feeling-censored expression. Take a typical day and see if you can intermingle with a varied mix of personalities, including yourself, and see how many lies you hear and how many you tell. There is courtesy ... and then there is compassion. Both are on the wane with compassion actually being the real basis for love and for friendship, as the two are one. Then there is the disappointment one leaves themselves open to in showing the real self and finding whomever it is that you are interacting with won't go there and no matter how you try, there is no reciprocation. Of course we know there is a way, but few dare to tread that path for long, however heroic. The only saving grace I've ever found that works every time is Struggle On, life is about learning and if its truth you seek and truth you discover, it is a blessing regardless of the occasion. Even then, you cannot fix another person, you can only understand. With someone you are close to, understanding knows no limits unless you are being endangered which sounds a lot like the situation we are living through at this very moment in time, taking place up there under the stage lights of the main arena, the lame new world. We read, we interpret, we read more, we see the illusion come to life, we actually see the catch pens under construction, there can be no doubt and yet, it just goes on, it drones and whines and eats itself only to come out the other end as worse than it went in. Somehow, just when it appears the worst is upon us still we are able to reach for some rosy part of the day to lift us above the rabble into that sweet change where the air is fit to breathe and the soul is stirred. Bholanath's Wildlife Center and 'hood pics of the animals and avian families do it for me. So does Jimi Hendrix with Red House (over yonder).
It is extraordinarily rare to come across a person who is completely straight all the way regardless of circumstance, situation, dialogue in any and all relationships. We strive for this and too frequently fall short. This is a facet of the human condition, but being of the human species doesn't require that we cannot learn from our animal teachers.
Today I found a fallen Hawk, as magnificent a creature in death as in life, and carried him by his legs to a picturesque soft spot away from the road where his soul would enter the Animal Kingdom in natural peace. His lower backside was black charred, otherwise he was perfectly intact leading me to think perhaps he had some accident atop the phone pole, a favored place to hang while hunting. I'm hearing this kind of electrical equipment has to be grounded, so I can't explain the nasty burn. All that can be said about it is whatever happened, this true feathered monarch came in contact with something unnatural. In other words, he bumped up against the anthropogenic system and it cost him as it always costs all who meet with bumps. What is unusual and wildly prevalent are those who choose to participate in the entertainments, the circuses such as boxing, rodeos, Nascar, casinos and porn. These things are different worlds of territorial testosterone gone to extremes enabled by the highest bidder. This too is all another avenue of spectacular riches and occupies the fascinations of a huge part of the worshiping public with whom we interact making all that shared information gathered over the years absolutely worthless in changing the ways we are impacted in order to proceed through this journey.
The Internet has only pointed out in starker terms what has always been happening. Before the web, sometimes we heard it might be happening, now we read it happens regularly as if each event, crime, scam, rip, enslavement, hustle is brand new, but it has always been the vicious writhing mass of tortured secrets and inhumanity compounded with greater heights of inhumanity that you see unfolding before you now. It has no repair. Beauty and contentment are where you find them. You must take the steps to your own freedom. As I have said, compassion is the magic key. But like all keys, sometimes it is lost and you have to figure out where you left it and how you could possibly find it again in these times. Recently, I lost mine and got a case of serious trepidations racing back to the spot where I last remembered having it. A woman I'd never met drove up behind me, shouting "I've got your keys!" Sure enough, she'd even left a note at the spot. Keys, cards and ID were safe and as I took note of the excited children in her SUV (and obvious lookalike family members visiting for Christmas) the warm glow of gratitude enveloped me enough to hug her and leave the scene spiritually intact. I felt like I could post again. Breathe again. Kiss the dogs and hug the Oaks, fall on my knees in prayer for the Hawk that his body rest in peace and his soul fly on. That my friends I've never met are unknown multitudes of the ones already visiting, feeling just like us and deserving of whatever, small comfort we bring each other in these times of terror, joy, lies, loss of dignity and respect, humiliation, confusion, ecstasy, despair, etc., stepping away from extremes into our own personal freedom to speak what is on our mind and share what is in our hearts or simply dwell.
In truth, we can step out of the noise anytime, it isn't us, it holds not a scintilla of reality, so why be in it at all? It is not important to puff up ourselves with the Dangerous Life being offered through technology, the mob, sensationalistic media and titillating headlines and the people who believe it all and seemingly know no better, as if there is only one way to live, one way to love, one way to gain, if they know what it is to gain, seeing only the gain that morphs itself into loss, fully blank when it comes to deep wells of purity available everywhere yet invisible, but the life-giving source from which all must drink if it means anything to experience the years full of changes spent on Planet Earth. Everything we learn about each other reinforces the observation that no one is immune without inflicting great damage to themselves.
Whatever 2012 has in store for our planet, since we have survived so much already only to arrive here at this time of witnessing, there is not much that could take it away. And if there was something, some disaster, something tragic, have we not weathered these storms before and before that? I have watched the sun rise dawn over the mast discovering my low little sloop sailing in a school of sharks off the southern coast of the Dominican Republic, I have lost power on a windless day over knife-craggy reefs breaking the sea surface and figured out how to bleed a diesel while rocking back and forth as the water slapped the beam. I have held on for 6 hours to a T-Bar in a blizzard looking down at snowy treetops singing Calypso, Sparrow tunes actually, and walked on single train tracks above the surly canyons of British Columbia, stared down the barrel of a gun held by a hostile dealer and wrecked motorcycles on Riverside Drive at rush hour, leading me to think 2012 will be interesting if anything... May the New Year be the best ever for each person reading here.
If wishes grew on trees...
One Love
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
World X sponsors revolution ap
... Here he comes, he's all dressed in black
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man ...
Lou Reed , lyric from I'm waiting for the man
We who have been so badly burned over and over our skins red and oozing from the lash, and not just us, but everyone all around us in their varying states of suffering, look up and see protestors on tv, on the net, in our hearts, wondering what slimey deceitful tortures await them? That is how we've come to think. We are not really Stockholm Syndromers, appreciative of any pause in the new, upgraded wheel of everything, the operating system under which slaves, wrists leashed to railroad ties overhead, power the wheel 24/7. No, nada, nunca mas, rather we are compassionate, seeking their safety, It IS becoming too big to fail, this is empowering them, every arrest empowers them more, and then when the you-know-whos make the TBTF connection, the real war, not the one that has become totally automatized and roboticized, begins. Those real wars will be the one-sided wars of exposure of the most mundane detail of a human life interpreted to mean something completely different by running it through the press release machines. Wars of ubiquitous commercialism and sponsored entertainment, great amounts of wealth will pass hands. It will be attacked as a rite of passage, the Aborigine child at last becomes a man, because no one can afford to backpack through Europe anymore, and the costs are not always financial.
When Tahrir Square's protests began, bleating pundits directed opinion in the weeks long media blitz, the one thing you knew straight on was how the Overseers viewed it. The violence was roundly "deplored". You knew they wanted to quell that thing a.s.a.p. because it was giving others in other locations in the Zombie Food Court ideas. You know what happened later and how lovely things are over there today. Why in fact, many of us will recall a bizarre photo candidly depicting the war cabinet hovered over questionably functioning laptops.
I am jaded. I see things from the inside out, not outside in. It is natural to ask about anything that appears to be one thing, if perhaps maybe its another? Life is all about learning and this just one of multitudes of ways that we learn. "What if ..." is usually a good way to present the case. It invites sharing the responsibility of a direct response. That particular method of inviting exchange can go to unusual places and you will learn what you needed to know, if you didn't already, at the least you will have confirmed your original observations.
Maybe if ... we had not already put aside false desires such as hope and belief, and lived so hard on the barren plain of the human condition, crushed by repeated falls into the stairwells of life's basement long enough to recognize the pattern and its mocking roots of Wetiko wet nurses and Wetiko religious dogma, maybe we would want to ask who started what and why. Oh, forget the "why." Moreover, forget the "who" also. Who cares? "What" is what we learn, "how" is the core. And running through the heart, pole to pole, is the arrow of evil, the Yang. In the early chapters of Arab Spring, I suggested sovereign leaders were being rotated in a manner more beneficial to Big Mo. I think all of our questions are being answered with each passing event. Especially the part about sovereign which in the language of the World X OS upgrade translates to colonial.
If we apply what we learn to another situation we might say "What if ... what if the design is inextricably in place, all that is left is more bloodletting and the good old highway robbery under the cover of darkness and freight trains, forever underwater at the company store? One of billions wet-faced in the rain racing for shelter, to the tents and migrant motels? What if ... we die and are exploited further in death by past-their-prime degenerates playing their last card last off your back? Addicts never change. They can clean up, briefly, but its always calling. You bet they are hustling again, they are in a pact from the grave. The candidates are competing with the false flags. Every time, throughout all of human existence, when they start up that shuck and jive, it is the sound of hellfire and fury heralding in another notch on the ancient Totem of history. In fact, there was another heated display of cravings just today as the Iran drumbeat drifted across the prairies with the Cartels as back-up chorus. Of course, its not doing well on the charts, its rather worthless until they can use it in conjunction with the Times Square dude and the panties on the plane mule.
What success are we seeking? We are seeking peace of mind and to be left alone to pursue our authentic interests, so many of which are denied for all the wrong reasons regardless of geography. We seek universal love and compassion, genuine peace on Earth and recognition of every living thing on the Living Planet as family. These few things are not universally sought, you know that much by now no matter what station you may be waiting in during this journey, but be comforted - you are not alone.
PR shoes and a big straw hat
He's never early, he's always late
first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait
I'm waiting for my man ...
Lou Reed , lyric from I'm waiting for the man
We who have been so badly burned over and over our skins red and oozing from the lash, and not just us, but everyone all around us in their varying states of suffering, look up and see protestors on tv, on the net, in our hearts, wondering what slimey deceitful tortures await them? That is how we've come to think. We are not really Stockholm Syndromers, appreciative of any pause in the new, upgraded wheel of everything, the operating system under which slaves, wrists leashed to railroad ties overhead, power the wheel 24/7. No, nada, nunca mas, rather we are compassionate, seeking their safety, It IS becoming too big to fail, this is empowering them, every arrest empowers them more, and then when the you-know-whos make the TBTF connection, the real war, not the one that has become totally automatized and roboticized, begins. Those real wars will be the one-sided wars of exposure of the most mundane detail of a human life interpreted to mean something completely different by running it through the press release machines. Wars of ubiquitous commercialism and sponsored entertainment, great amounts of wealth will pass hands. It will be attacked as a rite of passage, the Aborigine child at last becomes a man, because no one can afford to backpack through Europe anymore, and the costs are not always financial.
When Tahrir Square's protests began, bleating pundits directed opinion in the weeks long media blitz, the one thing you knew straight on was how the Overseers viewed it. The violence was roundly "deplored". You knew they wanted to quell that thing a.s.a.p. because it was giving others in other locations in the Zombie Food Court ideas. You know what happened later and how lovely things are over there today. Why in fact, many of us will recall a bizarre photo candidly depicting the war cabinet hovered over questionably functioning laptops.
I am jaded. I see things from the inside out, not outside in. It is natural to ask about anything that appears to be one thing, if perhaps maybe its another? Life is all about learning and this just one of multitudes of ways that we learn. "What if ..." is usually a good way to present the case. It invites sharing the responsibility of a direct response. That particular method of inviting exchange can go to unusual places and you will learn what you needed to know, if you didn't already, at the least you will have confirmed your original observations.
Maybe if ... we had not already put aside false desires such as hope and belief, and lived so hard on the barren plain of the human condition, crushed by repeated falls into the stairwells of life's basement long enough to recognize the pattern and its mocking roots of Wetiko wet nurses and Wetiko religious dogma, maybe we would want to ask who started what and why. Oh, forget the "why." Moreover, forget the "who" also. Who cares? "What" is what we learn, "how" is the core. And running through the heart, pole to pole, is the arrow of evil, the Yang. In the early chapters of Arab Spring, I suggested sovereign leaders were being rotated in a manner more beneficial to Big Mo. I think all of our questions are being answered with each passing event. Especially the part about sovereign which in the language of the World X OS upgrade translates to colonial.
If we apply what we learn to another situation we might say "What if ... what if the design is inextricably in place, all that is left is more bloodletting and the good old highway robbery under the cover of darkness and freight trains, forever underwater at the company store? One of billions wet-faced in the rain racing for shelter, to the tents and migrant motels? What if ... we die and are exploited further in death by past-their-prime degenerates playing their last card last off your back? Addicts never change. They can clean up, briefly, but its always calling. You bet they are hustling again, they are in a pact from the grave. The candidates are competing with the false flags. Every time, throughout all of human existence, when they start up that shuck and jive, it is the sound of hellfire and fury heralding in another notch on the ancient Totem of history. In fact, there was another heated display of cravings just today as the Iran drumbeat drifted across the prairies with the Cartels as back-up chorus. Of course, its not doing well on the charts, its rather worthless until they can use it in conjunction with the Times Square dude and the panties on the plane mule.
What success are we seeking? We are seeking peace of mind and to be left alone to pursue our authentic interests, so many of which are denied for all the wrong reasons regardless of geography. We seek universal love and compassion, genuine peace on Earth and recognition of every living thing on the Living Planet as family. These few things are not universally sought, you know that much by now no matter what station you may be waiting in during this journey, but be comforted - you are not alone.
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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 |
But on a rogue planet, the balance can change as easily as the heartbeat of life.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.
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.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
the catalytic converter model of progress
There are no coincidences. Keep that in mind when nine eleven's ten year global observance ceremonies come round. We will be told the alerts are way up there, they will rub Breveik, Loughner and Ft. Hood in our faces while never mentioning Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Following the bomb's birth from Enola Gay's belly, right away the victorious occupiers began a study, now documented in the National Geographic Explorer series "The First 24 Hours After Hiroshima" as if it was an altruistic thing, a study concerning exactly what happens to detonation sites aka Ground Zeroes, for the good of the future. I'll say that again so you can interpret what that was supposed to mean in the year 1945 AD ... The-Good-of-the-Future. You would think, wouldn't you, having researched and tested and retested the incredible damage done to life and infrastructure from genocidal weapons of mass destruction that there would be no such thing as a Nuclear Lobby and nuclear power plants, anywhere. But the satanic treasure chests these things bring forth have a hold like none other. It ishard impossible for us to find anything altruistic and progressive about what was and is happening. It is my hunch, Fukushima is played down because not only will the truth crush already waning public opinion, but also the Japanese don't want us with our gifts that keep on giving, anywhere around. Certainly, plenty of people in Japan are reliving the hell on Earth they experienced as infants... all over again.
Regarding recent comments on "Simplicity" during our last posting here, Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Fukushima, and all the people purchasing and using dosimeters, losing their homes and livelihoods, their families and their faith and the many who are already ill and dying of radiation poisoning, and for the remainder of their lifetimes live in paranoia cancer will one day take them down, birth defects, contaminated food, NONE of it had to happen, even Somalia's famine did not have to happen IF we had been a loving, compassionate, spiritual people from the start. Now we have layer upon layer of unnecessary complexity (©John Michael Greer) jamming up the works so that nothing flows smoothly or efficiently. Its almost as if we grew catalytic converters out of the tops of our heads to survive the Twentieth Century and no one pointed out how absurd and unnecessary it was so we went further and built monolithic exploding catalytic converters in every vacancy the money was available to pay for it, and if the money wasn't there, the IMF was. This is insane because a catalytic converter does not make a vehicle's engine run. It is an unnecessary and expensive "part" that must be rigorously inspected every year or two depending on your state's DMV requirements in order to register a vehicle (again, that does not need it to "go") to be deemed legal, i.e.; free from impounding. (Mandate alert) This analogy is only one of billions cataloging unnecessary parts, actions, expenses, activities, employments and improvements in progress, growth and market opportunities that make life for everyone a Brillo scathing hell on Earth.
Not a day passes in our lives we are not somehow impacted by senseless tragedy. Every dead animal run over on our streets is another senseless tragedy. Make way, its Man! Run, run.
For the past two days there has been a curious discussion for the masses started by a NYT opinion columnist's piece concerning angry space aliens warring with Earthlings because we trashed this place and our trash threatens the balance of the galaxy. The MSM is having a diversionary heyday with the idea. Little do they realize how close to the truth they may well be. Unfortunately, it is just another PR trick to 1. divert public attention and 2. deny responsibility. Aliens have every right to be angry and you'd better believe if they were warring with us, you would not need the MSM to carry on in satire to tell you about it from their moral depths of sheer depravity and lush experiences rewriting history to suit the victors.
How can anyone call themselves a victor anyway when to achieve that label, entire nations lose everything? Collateral damage is a nation. There is no such thing as blowing up a region without civilian deaths, even at testing sites, if the bomb doesn't kill them, cancer will. They have yet to design a selective bomb affecting solely combatants no matter how many joystick jockeys wearing cammies and jackboots guide the drones. Does it make the Victors feel good to kill and mutilate, is that feeling good the feeling of victory, pride, honor and glory? Let's get real here my friends, those are not feelings descriptive of anything remotely simple, humble or compassionate. Those feelings are only more of the full-on twenty first-century advancement in the catalytic converter model of progress.
For an exercise in what you do not need in order to live a kind and decent life, look around you at this very minute and count the many things, elements, situations, behaviors in your very own location of the moment that you do not need for your survival. While I have said here many times we can boil the righting of most everything wrong down to Do No Harm, we should add to that: Do No Harm and Unburden Yourself of Excess. Be ready for anything, unconsciously, while everything you attempt becomes itself, doing it so perfection in action is achieved as you and "the attempting you" are integrated in the simplicity of one streamlined model of natural efficiency.
Has anyone read Eugen [sic] Herrigel's Zen and the Art of Archery? Highly recommended. You can find references to it, but good luck locating the work. Just as wonderful is Gilbert Highet's The Mystery of Zen describing Herrigel's journey into archery under the tutelage of a Zen Master. Again, that work appears to be only available in the Norton Anthologies, compilations of brilliant stories and essays, most of which are not available online. If you should come across either work, you will discover a beautiful way to think about not thinking unnecessary thoughts and integration of your actions into the activity itself.
Here is a very simple thing: The Wildlife Center in New Mexico needs our help. As a wildlife lover, I have an insatiable desire to give over to the cause and ask you to join me. This summer's horrific fires created a deluge of wildlife in need and we must help however, wherever possible. While you are downsizing your lifestyles, please consider sending your extras to the location where they will be most useful.
The following is a quote from Cheryl at the Wildlife Center:
· Dark leafy greens (no iceberg or cabbage)
· Celery
· Carrots
· Grapes
· Bananas
· Apples, other fruit
· Honey
· Gerber Rice Cereal Boxes
· Apple sauce
· Frozen mixed veggies (NO LIMA BEANS!)
· Wild Dove Food (PetSmart)
· Finch and Canary Seed (PetSmart)
· Wild Bird Seed (limited amounts)
· Bleach
· Powdered Laundry Detergent
· Paper Towels
· Ziploc Bags – Freezer, Quart and Gallon
· Copy paper
My note: If you can get produce shipped with a one day delivery it might work, otherwise, I'd go for the less perishable items on the list. Injured bears are the heavy users of dry dog food. Our Animals and Avian bredren are gravely suffering and we must make it up to them or we will lose them forever. Address, email, etc. at the website.
Following the bomb's birth from Enola Gay's belly, right away the victorious occupiers began a study, now documented in the National Geographic Explorer series "The First 24 Hours After Hiroshima" as if it was an altruistic thing, a study concerning exactly what happens to detonation sites aka Ground Zeroes, for the good of the future. I'll say that again so you can interpret what that was supposed to mean in the year 1945 AD ... The-Good-of-the-Future. You would think, wouldn't you, having researched and tested and retested the incredible damage done to life and infrastructure from genocidal weapons of mass destruction that there would be no such thing as a Nuclear Lobby and nuclear power plants, anywhere. But the satanic treasure chests these things bring forth have a hold like none other. It is
Regarding recent comments on "Simplicity" during our last posting here, Hiroshima, Nagasaki and Fukushima, and all the people purchasing and using dosimeters, losing their homes and livelihoods, their families and their faith and the many who are already ill and dying of radiation poisoning, and for the remainder of their lifetimes live in paranoia cancer will one day take them down, birth defects, contaminated food, NONE of it had to happen, even Somalia's famine did not have to happen IF we had been a loving, compassionate, spiritual people from the start. Now we have layer upon layer of unnecessary complexity (©John Michael Greer) jamming up the works so that nothing flows smoothly or efficiently. Its almost as if we grew catalytic converters out of the tops of our heads to survive the Twentieth Century and no one pointed out how absurd and unnecessary it was so we went further and built monolithic exploding catalytic converters in every vacancy the money was available to pay for it, and if the money wasn't there, the IMF was. This is insane because a catalytic converter does not make a vehicle's engine run. It is an unnecessary and expensive "part" that must be rigorously inspected every year or two depending on your state's DMV requirements in order to register a vehicle (again, that does not need it to "go") to be deemed legal, i.e.; free from impounding. (Mandate alert) This analogy is only one of billions cataloging unnecessary parts, actions, expenses, activities, employments and improvements in progress, growth and market opportunities that make life for everyone a Brillo scathing hell on Earth.
Not a day passes in our lives we are not somehow impacted by senseless tragedy. Every dead animal run over on our streets is another senseless tragedy. Make way, its Man! Run, run.
For the past two days there has been a curious discussion for the masses started by a NYT opinion columnist's piece concerning angry space aliens warring with Earthlings because we trashed this place and our trash threatens the balance of the galaxy. The MSM is having a diversionary heyday with the idea. Little do they realize how close to the truth they may well be. Unfortunately, it is just another PR trick to 1. divert public attention and 2. deny responsibility. Aliens have every right to be angry and you'd better believe if they were warring with us, you would not need the MSM to carry on in satire to tell you about it from their moral depths of sheer depravity and lush experiences rewriting history to suit the victors.
How can anyone call themselves a victor anyway when to achieve that label, entire nations lose everything? Collateral damage is a nation. There is no such thing as blowing up a region without civilian deaths, even at testing sites, if the bomb doesn't kill them, cancer will. They have yet to design a selective bomb affecting solely combatants no matter how many joystick jockeys wearing cammies and jackboots guide the drones. Does it make the Victors feel good to kill and mutilate, is that feeling good the feeling of victory, pride, honor and glory? Let's get real here my friends, those are not feelings descriptive of anything remotely simple, humble or compassionate. Those feelings are only more of the full-on twenty first-century advancement in the catalytic converter model of progress.
For an exercise in what you do not need in order to live a kind and decent life, look around you at this very minute and count the many things, elements, situations, behaviors in your very own location of the moment that you do not need for your survival. While I have said here many times we can boil the righting of most everything wrong down to Do No Harm, we should add to that: Do No Harm and Unburden Yourself of Excess. Be ready for anything, unconsciously, while everything you attempt becomes itself, doing it so perfection in action is achieved as you and "the attempting you" are integrated in the simplicity of one streamlined model of natural efficiency.
Has anyone read Eugen [sic] Herrigel's Zen and the Art of Archery? Highly recommended. You can find references to it, but good luck locating the work. Just as wonderful is Gilbert Highet's The Mystery of Zen describing Herrigel's journey into archery under the tutelage of a Zen Master. Again, that work appears to be only available in the Norton Anthologies, compilations of brilliant stories and essays, most of which are not available online. If you should come across either work, you will discover a beautiful way to think about not thinking unnecessary thoughts and integration of your actions into the activity itself.
Here is a very simple thing: The Wildlife Center in New Mexico needs our help. As a wildlife lover, I have an insatiable desire to give over to the cause and ask you to join me. This summer's horrific fires created a deluge of wildlife in need and we must help however, wherever possible. While you are downsizing your lifestyles, please consider sending your extras to the location where they will be most useful.
The following is a quote from Cheryl at the Wildlife Center:
... For those interested in monetary donations, checks can be mailed to The Wildlife Center ... or donations can be made via PayPal on our website ... For those who wish to donate food and other supplies, here is a current list of needs. If somebody wants to donate produce, please have them check with us prior to purchase to ensure we don’t have too much of one thing on any given day, as some items cannot be frozen ...Dry kibble dog food – puppy and adult
· Dark leafy greens (no iceberg or cabbage)
· Celery
· Carrots
· Grapes
· Bananas
· Apples, other fruit
· Honey
· Gerber Rice Cereal Boxes
· Apple sauce
· Frozen mixed veggies (NO LIMA BEANS!)
· Wild Dove Food (PetSmart)
· Finch and Canary Seed (PetSmart)
· Wild Bird Seed (limited amounts)
· Bleach
· Powdered Laundry Detergent
· Paper Towels
· Ziploc Bags – Freezer, Quart and Gallon
· Copy paper
My note: If you can get produce shipped with a one day delivery it might work, otherwise, I'd go for the less perishable items on the list. Injured bears are the heavy users of dry dog food. Our Animals and Avian bredren are gravely suffering and we must make it up to them or we will lose them forever. Address, email, etc. at the website.
Friday, May 20, 2011
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.
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.
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.
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 |
 |
| Buffalo in wool |
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.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
food wagon at the Sphinx
Please go to the Gallery.
If you are on dial-up and have to wait for the images to download, here's something to digest in the interum.
If you are on dial-up and have to wait for the images to download, here's something to digest in the interum.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
an evening in the Revealing
It is disturbing to see what is happening with the elections coming up on my geographic horizon. The subscription TV which the fireteacher pays good money for out of his hard-earned chipster cheque is showing Arnie Terminator/Twins flicks through the night, every night. Hey dudes, where's my Battle of Algiers, my Wild Pacific, my Spike Lee post-Katrina documentary? No question over which side the satellite hovers. How much did THAT cost?
And just where was Arnold while Georgio Armani Angelo Mozilo displaced the citizenry of our nation, quickly bleeding across the oceans destroying the peace of mind of westernized peoples worldwide? (Think on that name: country-wide for a minute, ah such grandiose fantasies of pre-Elizabethan professional executioners have nothing on what heights are reached in our new millennium. (In fact, the Elizabethan age was one followed by many years of peace and prosperity, it is well known the Virgin Queen loved her people more than herself.) It wasn't so long ago we had Gray Davis as governor who apparently bombed with the populace despite Enron's miserable meatless ending. The press ran Gray through the shredder under pressure from the you-know-whos. The press runs everybody through the shredder now since its their job to shred regardless of pressure. You see, they learned their lessons well. For shame. The truth is nobody can run this place, or any place, definitely not Meg Whitman, heh, just wait till she meets up with the local fruits & nuts overpopulating the west coast or worse, has to balance the state budget, the classic gubernatorial demise. As soon as budget time rolls around, the shredder starts humming and it hums along through years and years of tears. And, yes, Whitman's already denying her personal nannygate, exposed by none other than her X'd illegal immigrant housekeeper, but what really got me was something she said quite a while ago which was "I believe marriage is between a man and a woman." She really said it. Everything that came after that might as well have fallen on deaf ears, the blow was struck, the character naked for all to see and mind you, do we really want more X or "on leave to serve at the pleasure" CEOs in government? No thanks, Meg, I won't be voting. I will be among the millions all of you and yours lost with your expensive press-released, personhooded campaigns blessed by our highest court. We have been burned so many times in state and national elections why ask for it outright? Hey, gimme more idyllic penury huh? And a little less room to just be, why don't ya? Fruits and nuts don't eat. Yes, I know, voting is my Constitutional right to exercise so I exercise my right to protest by withholding. The question is: Do we prefer a candidate who lies all through the campaign or one who lies all though his/her tenure in office? That's like saying we have a choice, isn't it, paper or plastic...
Oh well, nina, you could vote for Brown, right? No. His aide (um hmm) called Meg a whore. I guess its the dirty politicking, the displays of concealed corruption and vast amounts of money spent on self promotion all the while attempting to hide one's true character. All that money could be put to SUCH good use on improvement of the state and country and our species' survival. For shame, again. Are these people human beings or holograms or socio-hybrid aliens? You tell me.
On my sojourns through God's Kingdom lately, the landscape is littered with peeling, weather-beaten campaign signs. I try to get away from it and go deeper, farther and leave it behind where the neighboring mountains appear grey-green at the base, a lighter green-grey behind it and a higher, pale lavender grey-green ridge in the far distance. Mist rises from the base of the far lavender ridge graduating to deeper grey at the top where it meets the clouds. The mist means fog is coming on which means summer is over, winter opened its window and frost lies on the ground at dawn. Its just a quick slide into wood gathering, stacking, hauling into the fireplace from there, although we never got started so early before. I keep my eye on it. First snow is always on Thanksgiving, but this year it could happen any day. The Elk began bugling at the end of August. That never happened so early before either. Actually, this is a wonderful thing because the cold, wet night air (humidity) limits the probability of wildfires. Lastly, as was the case in 2009, the Juncos are late by many weeks. The weather conditions must be just right for them to make the journey south and apparently, it is not. I think in my mind its the air quality. The belching filth of big agra is easily mistaken for fog coming through the passes. Indeed, it is that surreal. It was not always that way. I remember. I made notes in my Smithsonian guides.
The housing, foreclosure, low - if any - new home sales crisis reminds me of the GOM crisis. The blowout preventer was broken as it was broken in the market crisis, or the credit crisis, or the ... etc.. Sort of like 911 too, each crisis militarily industrializes afterwards. We keep having 911 disasters with eternal effects upending the previous story. We know from reading stories there must be an ending somewhere, but there isn't. Most everyone is still living the old story whether they are an unrepentant shopaholic or a Nigerian child selling sodapop in the mud to the pipeline police. Even when attempts are made to reform corruption, the corrupt make the new story instantly throwing everyone and everything into deeper, darker, more terrifying and uncertain futures and still the story goes on. The ever-changing, ever-enlarging story is a way of life now, as if the anomalies of the present are all that ever was or will be.
The courts are already backlogged, imagine what sheaths of complaint are hitting the desks today from all those who were foreclosed and evicted or threatened with the process, and all those who bought those foreclosed dwellings, ahem, illegally? What a scene: the angry millions forcing their ways through the McMansion doors demanding their homes back from alarmed young couples feeding baby number one in the breakfast nook? What are they gonna do in this economy, double up? Oh why not, they'll learn to get along just like we do, but they won't be happy about it until they win their lawsuits. As we watch an entire new industry is being born, the graduation of Robo Signers to Paper Seekers tasked with unwrapping all the CDOs and sifting through xeroxes of xeroxes to find something that is probably lying under the mattress in Polanski's chalet if it actually exists, legitimate titles of home ownership and legitimate titles to commercial properties that is, not the mattress. We only know one thing for sure at this point and that is: Everyone has again stepped on yet another rung of the Apocalypse ladder where nothing is what it seemed and all hell is breaking loose from the shylocks to the cowboys on bar stools looking for love in all the wrong places. There's a big range in between consisting of the colorful variety of Planetary Citizens.
There are many things I can handle as weird and strange as some things are, because I am not in that world. It does not concern me or the immediate members of this existence. The man, me, the Guinea Pig, the Dogs, these are the beings whose interests are my interests. The relatives and our children are the collective ribbons that complete the package.
Have you ever thought about being a survivor from a shipwreck, floating on a very small section of what is left of the lifeboat's hull, whom out of all those faces treading water would you reach for?
On the other hand, when it comes to causing deliberate pain to our people in the larger sense, it burns, it scathes, it maims for life and kills as it does all victims whether they know what is happening or not and this is not acceptable. One day its a feeling, then its a blurb at a news site, by evening the blurbs have their own wiki page. And then, like the dark season, suddenly its upon us full steam ahead and we rearrange our existence again. Suffering can be very good when you can, if you can, compare it to other states yet that also is being denied wherever possible.
Cufflinks photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images N.A.: Angelo Mozilo, founder and former CEO, Countrywide Financial Corporation, testifying during a House Oversight and Government Reform hearing ... examining the compensation and retirement packages granted to the CEOs of corporations deeply involved in the current mortgage crisis.
And just where was Arnold while Oh well, nina, you could vote for Brown, right? No. His aide (um hmm) called Meg a whore. I guess its the dirty politicking, the displays of concealed corruption and vast amounts of money spent on self promotion all the while attempting to hide one's true character. All that money could be put to SUCH good use on improvement of the state and country and our species' survival. For shame, again. Are these people human beings or holograms or socio-hybrid aliens? You tell me.
The housing, foreclosure, low - if any - new home sales crisis reminds me of the GOM crisis. The blowout preventer was broken as it was broken in the market crisis, or the credit crisis, or the ... etc.. Sort of like 911 too, each crisis militarily industrializes afterwards. We keep having 911 disasters with eternal effects upending the previous story. We know from reading stories there must be an ending somewhere, but there isn't. Most everyone is still living the old story whether they are an unrepentant shopaholic or a Nigerian child selling sodapop in the mud to the pipeline police. Even when attempts are made to reform corruption, the corrupt make the new story instantly throwing everyone and everything into deeper, darker, more terrifying and uncertain futures and still the story goes on. The ever-changing, ever-enlarging story is a way of life now, as if the anomalies of the present are all that ever was or will be.
The courts are already backlogged, imagine what sheaths of complaint are hitting the desks today from all those who were foreclosed and evicted or threatened with the process, and all those who bought those foreclosed dwellings, ahem, illegally? What a scene: the angry millions forcing their ways through the McMansion doors demanding their homes back from alarmed young couples feeding baby number one in the breakfast nook? What are they gonna do in this economy, double up? Oh why not, they'll learn to get along just like we do, but they won't be happy about it until they win their lawsuits. As we watch an entire new industry is being born, the graduation of Robo Signers to Paper Seekers tasked with unwrapping all the CDOs and sifting through xeroxes of xeroxes to find something that is probably lying under the mattress in Polanski's chalet if it actually exists, legitimate titles of home ownership and legitimate titles to commercial properties that is, not the mattress. We only know one thing for sure at this point and that is: Everyone has again stepped on yet another rung of the Apocalypse ladder where nothing is what it seemed and all hell is breaking loose from the shylocks to the cowboys on bar stools looking for love in all the wrong places. There's a big range in between consisting of the colorful variety of Planetary Citizens.
There are many things I can handle as weird and strange as some things are, because I am not in that world. It does not concern me or the immediate members of this existence. The man, me, the Guinea Pig, the Dogs, these are the beings whose interests are my interests. The relatives and our children are the collective ribbons that complete the package.
Have you ever thought about being a survivor from a shipwreck, floating on a very small section of what is left of the lifeboat's hull, whom out of all those faces treading water would you reach for?
On the other hand, when it comes to causing deliberate pain to our people in the larger sense, it burns, it scathes, it maims for life and kills as it does all victims whether they know what is happening or not and this is not acceptable. One day its a feeling, then its a blurb at a news site, by evening the blurbs have their own wiki page. And then, like the dark season, suddenly its upon us full steam ahead and we rearrange our existence again. Suffering can be very good when you can, if you can, compare it to other states yet that also is being denied wherever possible.
Cufflinks photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images N.A.: Angelo Mozilo, founder and former CEO, Countrywide Financial Corporation, testifying during a House Oversight and Government Reform hearing ... examining the compensation and retirement packages granted to the CEOs of corporations deeply involved in the current mortgage crisis.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Useful Tools
The Fireteacher assembled some of his impressive garage sale acquisitions for me to photograph (his photography, his "eye", is renowned among those familiar with his work) and post here today. So, I turned the lens over to him. I only know what a small few of these tools are named and what they do, I'm asking the chippies visiting here to identify them. (This includes Lurking Chippies.) It took a number of uploads because after The FT got going, he gleefully upped the level of rarely used, but important items which he convinced me should be a part of the Accomplished Chippy's Inventory. Heh, just as I thought he had to be finished, out would come another medieval looking device, Perhaps, I wondered, for the interrogation of heretics?Fortuitously, his years in collecting useful tools has value as currency in any economy or no economy and as such, further encourages him to wade through eBay for entire weekends as well as comb the countryside for garage sales. Mind you its not just any garage sale, its got to be a crumbling farm house front yard with rusting plows and scattered thresher parts. Its got to have items for sale spilling over the saggy front porch and must be crowded with lots of older men wearing overalls milling about as well as restored Studebaker trucks and Trail Boss trailers with haystraws sticking out between the slats just in case something big needs moving out.
He is curious if my chippies know their stuff. He is pretty sure he's in a class by himself so I caution you to research your answers before commenting. I'm sure he'll be around to check your work because this is a subject in which he has much interest. Although, it is up to you to decide if that interest concerns tools of the trade, your familiarity with them or making a superior comment or all of the above.There will be a test. Not.
I'd seen these "things" coming into the house and grabbed the digital which was how this blog quiz got started. It seems to me that the man who possesses these tools and uses them with an expert's confidence is going to be THE go-to guy in this small and local, goods for services, economy we are entering.
I once criticized my best friend for having too many cleaning gadgets flowing from her overflowing closets. Her response was, "I'm a believer in the right tool for the right job." Well, that about says it all, doesn't it.
Come to think of it, she and the Fireteacher have a lot in common. Must be why I've spent so much of my life in their lives over the years.
We're not going to have any newsy items today because I am sick of them. I am sick of these elections and sick of them concealing what we're doing to the Pakistanis and the Afghanis. And the Fallujans, yes, the Fallujans. I am sick of Monsanto and BP , sick of peak deniers, sick of morphing statistics and what the pundits have to say while nobody else can get a word in edgewise. I get embarrassed for the people interviewed. And annoyed (saddened, brought down, you know ... ) the bumpkins suck it up like pork gravy while unable to afford their own healthcare, dentists for their children or vets for their animals. Imagine not knowing why you are juggling when you are juggling?
Disclaimer Newsflash: its called Obamacare and the winning party plans on reforming the "reforms" just as soon as they move the clock back to the original Bu-ad years. Which side is the Laureate community organizer on anyway? Maybe it will come to you as you are identifying tools. You don't have to research that one too extensively to know which way the wind blows.
Worst of all I've lost faith that any change will ever take place. When there is no oil and no money, they will still keep it up because their values do not change in spite of their circumstances. Whatever they think they want to come from all the shenanigans will only serve to make them want more. There is no end to it. Even if everything they push for came to fruition (a complete fantasy, sheer folly), there are others just like them on the way pushing harder, recreating, it should be this way, or that way, whichever way that suits them for whatever cushions their high lives in the villa of the season where conscience is muffled in Peacock feathers and softly whispering servants. Each time the helijets touch down on an Agean roof pad, another Indian farmer-husband-father takes his own life.
- - - - them and the horse they rode in on. (from the Changeling)
Meanwhile, let's live up right and share, exchange, enjoy, do no harm, worship the animals , the birds and the creatures of the sea, be genuine with one another and feel as good and get as healthy as we can. Think through your depressions so you are not operating from a compromised position and give everyone the benefit of the doubt whenever possible. Make the first move towards friendship at least as often as we make the changes we need to survive this journey. Reach deep down and share your soul every day through "inside to outward awareness" vs. "outside, taken inside, materialism, i.e.; upside down and backwards". If you understand this, you can do it. Don't desire recognition, you can do that for yourself if you require it. It is the only worthy recognition anyway. It is very helpful to never think about it at all, it has no place in what ultimately must be, if there is to be anything. In my humble opinion and I know nothing, doing the right thing, which is love, is all that matters and that is where our focus for the future fundamentally lies.
There will always be a place for you on Earth, but we have to make that place individually, with our skills, our tools, our involvements and our attitudes. If the chippies cannot identify everything shown in the photos, fear not. Within the next decade you will be working with your hands using tools much like these and loving it - unless you plan to expire from misery, isolation and starvation. And unless somebody purchased the rights to start fracking the ground upon which you stand.
... end transmission ...
post photos: c. the Fireteacher 2010
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