Citizen Kane wins five primaries

Donald Trump swept the Republican primaries last night... and all I could think of was Hedley Lamarr, and the evillll for which he stands.

Yes, the Trump campaign makes me think of BLAZING SADDLES. Lots and lots of similarities.

Links:

Donald Trump Declares Himself 'Presumptive Nominee' After Tuesday Wins (NBC)

Trump sweeps GOP races (CNN)

Donald Trump completes sweep of five northeast states (USA Today)



~*~

I didn't post on this blog for quite a long time, and in the meantime, stored up a few stray links to discuss later.

And you probably know what happened, right?

About half of these are gone already, especially the tweets. Must have been some hard-hitting, gotcha tweets, for me to make a quick footnote of them. And now they are gone.

Dear Radicals, as I said two days ago, GET A GRIP! Citizen Kane and the Twilight Days of Empire await us. Stop feverishly erasing whatever it was that desperately needed to be said. STOP BEING AFRAID! Charles Foster Kane is who you need to be afraid of right now, not some damnable tweet that might have been heavy-handed, might have hurt some liberal's feelings. (Or worse, brought out the attack dogs.)

To sum up: Whoever deleted that tweet is not someone I want in my radical cell. If you are afraid of the consequences of a tweet, you are not going to be there when they start rounding people up, you will be out hiding in your shed or under your SUV. Count on it.

This is serious, people. THIS IS SERIOUS.

[Aside: See how it is? I eventually devolve into a hysterical splay of capital letters and explanation points because... what else can you say? How do we get the suburban white kids to panic? Take away all the phones?]

~*~

Other links of note:

[] Written during the 2012 election campaign, this post is now more pertinent than ever: Rethinking how we think about voting. THIS MEANS YOU!

[] Suzanne Vega found her old letter from Prince. (sigh)

[] Ted Cruz, John Kasich join forces to stop Trump. A day late and a dollar short, guys.

Speaking of old letters, I wish I had saved the nasty note I once received from Kasich, back when he was in congress and I was a born-and-bred citizen of the great state of which he is now governor. I wrote to him first and I was nasty, he replied and he was nasty right back, and we understood each other just fine.

I never dreamed he would be governor, let alone run for president.

My advice: Save those nasty letters from even the low-level politicians, kids! They could be worth something someday!

[] The diversity rally I tried to avoid, but in this town, I am spotted everywhere I go. Really.

Sometimes I wonder what life might be like in a really BIG town.

[] What you need to say to the smug atheist liberals who assure us religion is on the skids and down for the count: Not so fast.

Please understand, when they dwindle to "the remnant" -- that is exactly when they will fight like hell. And perhaps that is exactly what is happening right now.

Who among you, like me, grew up on the Christian term REMNANT? It was considered a compliment; the diehards who stay loyal until the Second Coming... and do you get it? They WANT to be The Remnant!! Looking around and deciding they are the legendary REMNANT will crank them up like nothing else you can imagine. They will REMNANTIZE the entire discourse, with Armageddon, the Rapture and the Tribulation right around the corner.

And see, here's the thing: they will MAKE Armageddon if they have to.

They will PUT US ALL through the Tribulation, my friends. (Does the term SELF-FULFILLING PROPHECY mean anything to you?)

Fight them from within (as I once tried to do) or fight from without, but fight. Armageddon is an evil concept, and we must fight it that way. Accuse them of wanting to start it themselves, which I've learned, DOES make them blink and hesitate for a second.

Because I am sorry to tell you, its true. They can't wait for the endtimes war. Its behind everything they do.

~*~

Postscript/Obit

I lost a treasured friend right before Thanksgiving... in fact, right as I was getting ready to pick up this blog again, she passed away. Her death hit me hard and I once again dealt with acute writer's block.

I wrote a few words on tumblr, with photos. I always tell everyone that one of the worst aspects of aging is losing your friends, your teenage idols, your neighborhood, etc. Even though inevitable, it deeply hurts; what Buddha called "the suffering of change" (vipariṇāma-dukkha).

Tricia Earle always encouraged me and thought I was creative; she gave a generous speech/introduction for me once, and presented me with my 10-year AA chip. I realized, in reading the Facebook pages about her: not everyone knew she was in AA. After all, its supposed to be anonymous, and everybody isn't like ME, broadcasting all their innermost secrets to the world. I therefore didn't know if I should mention our friendship or not. Finally I decided, yes, I would. "Anonymity is the spiritual foundation of all our traditions," but it does not extend beyond death.

And what I needed to say about Tricia was also about Alcoholics Anonymous itself.

Tricia, whose last name I didn't know for years, came from an elite old-South family. And I didn't know it. ME, the ultra-class-conscious socialist who can ferret out Harvard posts online... I did NOT KNOW she came from THE EARLES (there is a street here named after her family). She did not in ANY WAY act like she was elite, and this was the power of AA. We were "all in it together"-- and just as the homeless and poor are part of that deep, blood-brotherhood fellowship, so are the rich, so are the famous. When AA works correctly, when people are working the program correctly, you shouldn't be able to tell who the rich people are.... and I couldn't tell.

This means she did it right.

This is the greatest thing I can say about her, the highest compliment I could give her.

And you know what? She would hands-down agree with me. :)

Rest in peace, dearest one.

Three Feet

... and I wouldn't be here.

I can't stop thinking about that fact. It seems so... arbitrary.

Suddenly, life seems quite tenuous and so very precious.

On Friday, a 15-year-old driving an enormous Dodge Ram pickup and sporting a Ferris Bueller t-shirt (you can't make this stuff up), ran a red light and totally sheared the front end off my car. KABOOM - it sounded like a fucking locomotive. And there I was, turned at an angle in the intersection during perilous rush-hour traffic (I did manage to hit my brakes) and all these people loooooooking at me like, is she alive? I managed to chug my smashed-up little car into a nearby parking lot. Somebody dragged my flimsy Saturn-bumper out of the road and brought it over to me. Automobile-detritus and various pieces of metal and glass were all over Haywood Road, and people kept running over them, crunchcrunch... eventually both Mr Daisy and my radio producer/Carolina consigliere came to my aid, so that was good. (Needless to say, I missed Friday's radio show.)

After local police pronounced him the officially-guilty party, Ferris drove away, his bad-ass redneck vehicle unharmed and ready to shear off more bumpers. Mine is a total shambles, one of those words you hardly ever hear anymore, but was popular in 60s comic books. Let's bring back the word: SHAMBLES. (One of those great words that sounds like exactly what it is.) However, the engine sounds okay, and I think it could well be salvaged, so we shall see. The car has already been totaled once. (In fact, that was the subject of my second-ever blog post.)

If I had not hit my brakes. If I had accelerated a few seconds faster into the intersection. Just a few seconds. He sheared the front end of my car clean off... and if *I* had been sitting in the exact spot where he sheared off my car?

Three feet. Just three.

As I said, I can't stop thinking about it.

THREE FEET has become a very intense thing for me, the subject of major meditations throughout the weekend. Our life can end at any time. We know this intellectually, but somehow, coming so close, brings the fact home in a very real way.

And you know, some things just don't seem as important as they did a few days ago. They just aren't. And other things are somehow, suddenly, far more important.

My vision has been sharpened, and I hope to keep this new, acute vision as long as I can. I want to see clearly. And I don't want to waste time. I don't want to spend the time I have on nonsense, on arguing, on unhappiness.

I am reminded of a quote by Thomas Carlyle that Harlan Ellison once taped onto a mirror in his home:

Produce! Produce! Were it but the pitifullest infinitesimal fraction of a Product, produce it in God's name! 'Tis the utmost thou hast in thee; out with it then. Up, up! Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy whole might. Work while it is called To-day, for the Night cometh wherein no man can work.

(The last part of that quote is from the Gospel of John.)

Yes. That is exactly how I feel.

Nelson Mandela 1918-2013

The media mourning for Nelson Mandela has been shocking to me. Revisionism in my lifetime always rearranges my senses, and here we are again. (Note: Our radio show honoring Mandela was yesterday; our show honoring martyr Fred Hampton was Wednesday.)

It seems that only a short while ago, Mandela was regarded as a dangerous terrorist. Republicans spoke his name with audible contempt. It is dizzying and disorienting to see Fox News being all polite and respectful. I feel as if I have fallen through the proverbial Looking Glass.


As Mark Quincy Adams accurately writes (at Alan Colmes' blog titled Liberaland):

Their failed attempt to co-op the memory of Rosa Parks have not stopped our friends on the Right from trying the same with the late Nelson Mandela. Whether their hope is widespread ignorance of history or an attempt to disguise their true feelings, we must remember that Conservatives have always despised Nelson Mandela.

Dick Cheney, in particular, should be singled out as a leader in the ‘COWSHIT* Coalition’ (*Conservatives On the Wrong Side of HIstorys Tide). He was a vocal opponent of even setting the man free from prison! Sure, he said years later that Mandela had “mellowed out” but that’s hardly a recant of his indefensible position. Clearly, those who populate the Conservative Movement today are equally as hateful toward the man as Cheney and his ilk were in the 1980′s as we see from comments on Ted Cruz’s Facebook post attempting the gentlest of praise of Mandela.

While on some level we should welcome those on the Right who now want to praise Mandela, their sincerity should be met with great skepticism. The good news is there is something Conservatives really have to be genuinely thankful to him for. They should never forget that when Mandela was elected President of South Africa after 27 years in prison, he called for “Truth and Reconciliation” NOT “Truth and Retribution”. That’s a precedent Conservatives across the world should celebrate and hope that others in the future will find the Mandela-like strength to be so forgiving. Given their history, they will certainly need it.

And as Nelson Mandela himself said:

I was called a terrorist yesterday, but when I came out of jail, many people embraced me, including my enemies, and that is what I normally tell other people who say those who are struggling for liberation in their country are terrorists. I tell them that I was also a terrorist yesterday, but today, I am admired by the very people who said I was one.

~*~

As I get older, I am more and more curious about how history will judge us. The longer I live and the more I witness this kind of revisionism, the more I realize we will be judged in ways we can not even anticipate right now.

A couple of months ago, I mentioned that as I stood reading the words on the Confederate memorial downtown, I was struck by the total moral certainty of the poem engraved on the side of that memorial. It never once occurred to the folks erecting the monument, that mores might change; that there would come a time that their moral certitude would be shameful and even regarded as patently evil.

And that will happen to us, too. About the drones, maybe... or the way we have refused to take responsibility for changing the climate. What are we doing right now, that we will be held ethically accountable for in the future? What horrors do we tolerate so we can hold on to our standard of living?

If I contemplate this too long (and I have made the whole "history's judgment" concept a repeated subject of my anicca meditation), I become afraid that I am not doing enough. I can become nearly frantic. It's a scary concept for me, which of course means that I must deal with it, head on.

I am often overwhelmed by trying to do everything at once. I spread myself pretty thin as it is, and yet... I worry it simply is not enough. And I also worry that no matter what we do, it will make no difference.

At least we can look at a life like Mandela's and say, HERE is a life that truly mattered, that made a difference in ways that counted, in ways that endured.

And at such times, when I have doubts that what we do makes any difference, I hold on to one truth:

"For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business." -- TS Eliot.

Rest in peace, Nelson Mandela.

Enjoy the silence... and other updates

From Pendleton Street Arts District here in Greenville. Not sure what the wheel is about, or the sun nuts, but its art, so its okay.


More on my Flickr page.


~*~




As I sit here worrying over whether the entire upstate is being slowly poisoned with radioactivity, I've decided to post some links I've been mulling over.






The adoptive parents of Baby Veronica, not satisfied that they WON their big case, are now suing the Cherokee Nation for court fees. (Do you BELIEVE these people?) They are seeking a cool one million dollars:

NOWATA, Okla. — Attorneys for the adoptive parents of a 4-year-old girl caught up in a custody dispute are seeking $1 million in legal fees from the Cherokee Nation and the girl’s biological father, who is a member of the tribe.

Attorneys representing Matt and Melanie Capobianco have filed paperwork seeking the legal fees incurred while fighting the lengthy custody battle over 4-year-old Veronica.

In September, Dusten Brown handed Veronica over to the Capobiancos after the Oklahoma Supreme Court lifted an emergency stay keeping the girl in Oklahoma.

The Tulsa World reports attorneys for the Capobiancos are seeking $1 million to be split among four law firms. The newspaper reports none of the money would go to the Capobiancos.

Attorneys for Brown and the Cherokee Nation declined to comment on the filing.

~*~

Google has been ordered to block images in a privacy case. This may set a precedent, since as you know, ordinary people do not have the right to make Google do squat... but rich people (specifically Max Mosley) sure do! (Biographical note: Max is the son of Oswald Mosley, whom non-British rock fans mostly recognize as the subject of "Less Than Zero" by Elvis Costello.) According to the New York Times:

LONDON — A French court ruled Wednesday that Google must remove from its Internet search results all images of a former Formula One car racing chief at an orgy. The ruling in the privacy case could have ramifications for the tech giant’s operations across Europe.

Max Mosley, the former president of the International Automobile Federation, had filed the lawsuit in September to force Google to automatically filter from its search engine links to images from a British newspaper report in 2008 that included photos and a video of Mr. Mosley participating in a sadomasochistic sex party.

The former Formula One head successfully sued the News of the World in a London court for breach of privacy and was awarded £60,000, or about $96,000, in damages.

On Wednesday, the Tribunal de Grande Instance in Paris backed Mr. Mosley’s attempts to force Google to block references to the images from appearing in Google’s search results worldwide. The company said it would appeal the decision.

Mr. Mosley argued that French law makes it illegal to take and distribute images of an individual in a private space without that person’s permission. But Google said that would limit freedom of speech, forcing the company to block search results without any person or court overseeing the context in which the images appeared.

Analysts said the ruling against Google could lead to greater restrictions on what was accessible through search results and could prompt more people to demand that the United States technology company remove references to their private activities.

“At this point in time, the pendulum is swinging toward individuals’ privacy and away from freedom of speech,” said Carsten Casper, a privacy and security analyst at the consulting firm Gartner in Berlin.

...

As part of the settlement ordered by the French court on Wednesday, Google will have to filter out nine images of Mr. Mosley from its worldwide search results. The company must pay him 1 euro in compensation and it will be fined 1,000 euros every time that an image is found through its search engine, starting at the beginning of next year.

“It’s a fair decision,” said Clara Zerbib, a lawyer at the law firm Reed Smith in Paris who represented Mr. Mosley in the lawsuit. “This case isn’t about censoring information, but about complying with French law.”

...

The lawsuits relate to a 2008 report in The News of the World, a British newspaper owned by Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp., which was later closed because of its ties to a phone hacking scandal. The article described Mr. Mosley’s activities as a “sick Nazi orgy.” The allegations were particularly damaging, as Mr. Mosley is the son of Sir Oswald Mosley, a pre-World War II-era British fascist, and Mr. Mosley had sought to distance himself from his father’s activities.

By pursuing legal action in France and Germany, Mr. Mosley was taking advantage of more stringent data privacy legislation in those countries compared with either the United States or Britain, according to privacy analysts. In France, for example, it is a criminal offense to record someone else without his or her consent in a private space.

Google is facing a number of privacy lawsuits in Europe.

~*~

How would the world's coastlines look if all the ice melted?

Well, for starters, Florida would be history. Here is the interactive map.

Charleston, Hilton Head and Myrtle Beach would also be gone, meaning that the South Carolina coast would start somewhere around Columbia, by my reckoning.

~*~

I am opposed to assisted suicide. I thought I might have said this before on this blog... but then again, when I do a search, find that I have hedged and have not stated my opposition outright, so here it is: No.

And I recently remembered the reasons for my opposition, whilst reading Bad Cripple's eloquent blog. He is far more poetic and personal on the topic than I could ever be:

I think we people with a disability are feared. We are the one and only minority that can be joined via illness or accident. Our atypical bodies also symbolically represent the limits of medical science. Please do not talk to me about joint decision making strategies between physician and patients. Do not talk to me about informed consent. Do not talk to me about patient centered care. These buzz words are cultural ideals we aspire to reach. I am not suggesting we do away with these concepts. They should be valued. But my reality, my experiences when I try to access health care is radically different. [UK-Guardian writer Stella] Young quotes Marilyn Golden, a long time opponent of assisted suicide who perceptively observed: "we are asking the wrong questions when it comes to assisted death: We have to ask, do people with disabilities have true choice and self determination, in terms of living outside of nursing homes? In terms of housing that is truly affordable and accessible? In terms of the kind of services that really allow them to lead meaningful lives? In many cases, no."

These are the sort of questions we should be discussing. Why do people, all people, want to die? What drives a person to think death is preferable to living? Pain is not the primary variable. People choose to die because they fear losing their independence and autonomy. And here the link between end of life issues and disability is glaringly obvious to me. When I see a person with a disability I think of all the things a person can do. The same can be said for any person approaching the end of life. I think what can this person do? How can their life even with death impending be enhanced? This is not typically how others with no exposure to disability or end of life issues think. Instead we isolate the disabled and elderly--a historic pattern we have yet to break.

~*~

Nico Lang writes at Salon: America still can't accept Lady Gaga's bisexuality, or anybody else's. The title says it all.

The comments are also very interesting and instructive.

~*~

Camille Lewis shared with me this article about icky local Tea Party busybody Harry Kibler:

Kibler’s approach to political activism doesn’t rely on subtlety and consensus-building. He prefers open and direct confrontation, and his energy is inexhaustible. I recently spoke with him about his latest project, an effort to stop the Greenville County Council from imposing a one percent sale tax for the purpose of road maintenance.

“I’ve had so dad gum much fun doing this,” he tells me, “it ought to be against the law.”

Would that it were so.

Read it and weep.

~*~

MORE:

:: Today on our radio show, the redoubtable Occupy the Microphone, we discussed the case of George Stinney, a 14-year-old who was executed by the state of South Carolina in 1944. Currently, there is a renewed effort to clear his name and get his conviction overturned.

:: What happened to the Middle Class? Ask Alice. (Minneapolis Star Tribune)

:: I love this! ----> The Myth of Re-enchantment (thinkBuddha.org)

:: The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer (GoodMenProject)

:: Hope your Veterans Day has been good; don't forget my post last year on this holiday. It is even more accurate now than it was then. Take heed and beware.

:: And finally, here is your CUTE QUOTIENT CONTENT for this month... and possibly for the whole year. I have bookmarked this, and I go to it when I need to feel calm, centered and happy. TOO CUTE FOR WORDS: Baby Goats and Friends. SQUEEEEEEEE! Gonna die. Gonna. Just. Die. (And they upload more all the time, from everywhere.)

~*~

Due to Daylight Savings Time, its dark when we leave the radio station now.

There is nothing quite as magical as driving through the crisp, autumnal dark, peering at all the headlights... and then Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode pops up on your radio dial. Otherworldly, perfect.

All I ever wanted, all I ever needed... is for special moments like this to go on forever. :)

Enjoy the Silence - Depeche Mode

Day of the Dead links

At left: I celebrated Samhain with the pagan community at Greenville Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship (known as GUUF). It was wonderful!



I always loved the Christian rituals at this time of year, so its nice to know I can find working alternatives.

Hope your Halloween was fun. (PS: here are my adorable grandbabies in costume!)

~*~








Occupy the Microphone:

Our Wednesday radio show was probably the best one this week, featuring Mary Olsen of Nuclear Information Resource Service. Have a listen!

Thursday's show: Senator Lindsey Graham's stock takes a nose dive in polls

Friday's show: Did the US government know before or after the Israelis attacked Syria?

Remember, you can listen to us on livestream every weekday, LIVE AT FIVE! (And if you'd like to donate your spare change to us, please go HERE.)

~*~

Random Links:

:: 11 signs you might be an MRA (Men's Rights Advocate). Although this was posted earlier this year, I just came across it... and this certainly rings true for all of my online brawling.

:: How the religious right won: Birth of the fundamentalists, in our modern times (Salon) is excerpted from Molly Worthen's upcoming book, titled Apostles of Reason: The Crisis of Authority in American Evangelicalism. Excellent history and analysis, highly recommended, and I am hoping to read the entire book soon.

From the piece:

The decisive battles over the meaning and role of the Bible in modern society [in the 70s and 80s] did not, primarily, unfold in the form of dueling proof texts or Sunday pulpit ripostes, but in skirmishes for control of the machinery of intellectual authority: seminaries, missions boards, denominational presses, and authorized church history. The personal magnetism of gurus was not sufficient to stanch the secularist tide. Just as thousands of volunteers at Billy Graham’s crusades worked to settle new converts into local churches before their enthusiasm could evaporate, conservative activists knew that the fervor wandering sages left in their wake would fizzle unless channeled into institutions and sustained by an infrastructure built to teach and train future generations.

Worthen provides an in-depth account of exactly how the fundies took over the various Protestant denominations from within. And it's some fascinating history:

Historically, Southern Baptists have opposed the idea of creeds: formal statements of doctrine to which all members of a church must subscribe. Every Baptist is expected to articulate his beliefs for himself. The principle of “soul liberty” or “soul competency” means that each believer is accountable to no one but God. Few principles, however, are absolute in reality. Early Baptists approved confessions that reflected consensus and set boundaries for acceptable beliefs, although they did not recite them in worship. Southern Baptists, alarmed by Darwinism’s challenge to traditional interpretations of the Bible, adopted a “Faith and Message” in 1925 declaring their belief that God created man “as recorded in Genesis.” The convention elaborated on this statement in 1963 after seminary professor Ralph Elliott roiled Southern Baptists by advocating a nonliteral reading of the creation story in his book The Message of Genesis. The [Southern Baptist Convention] emphasized the “proper balance between academic freedom and academic responsibility” in Christian education, but reiterated the fallible nature of any doctrinal statement, the possibility for future revision, and the importance of soul competency.

Conservatives began to suspect that the historic Baptist resistance to creeds provided cover for heterodox interpretation of essential doctrines. They pushed for traditionalist revisions and more rigorous enforcement of statements of faith at the denomination’s seminaries and colleges, and even agitated for emendation of the Baptist Faith and Message. Creeds, far from threatening the Baptist way, were the only way to preserve it.

If you are interested in the history of Christianity (and specifically, how the biblical-literalists took over everything), this is a great read.

And it explains so much.

:: Check out Paul Krugman's New York Times column titled, A War on the Poor:

John Kasich, the Republican governor of Ohio, has done some surprising things lately. First, he did an end run around his state’s Legislature — controlled by his own party — to proceed with the federally funded expansion of Medicaid that is an important piece of Obamacare. Then, defending his action, he let loose on his political allies, declaring, “I’m concerned about the fact there seems to be a war on the poor. That, if you’re poor, somehow you’re shiftless and lazy.”

Obviously Mr. Kasich isn’t the first to make this observation. But the fact that it’s coming from a Republican in good standing (although maybe not anymore), indeed someone who used to be known as a conservative firebrand, is telling. Republican hostility toward the poor and unfortunate has now reached such a fever pitch that the party doesn’t really stand for anything else — and only willfully blind observers can fail to see that reality.

Read it all.

:: Jonathan Chait explains Why Letting Everyone Keep Their Health-Care Plan Is a Terrible Idea. (New York magazine)

:: Your Day of the Dead dose of cute comes from sweet Harley, all dressed up in a Hello Kitty costume. Adorable!

:: Your spiritual-reading assignment: A Journey from Humiliation to Humility, by Corrado Pensa:

Humiliation is not auto­­matically present; it gets fabri­cated by the ego. We have a choice. We can get into the old habit of fab­ri­cating suffering, or we can stop and watch. Can we lit­erally sit still in the tiny con­traction that we ex­perience, in face of that person who never smiles back at us? ‘Never’ means ‘every time’. ‘Every time’ means ‘a number of opportunities’. Are we going to use those opportunities? Or are we going to consider them irrelevant, minor?

Maybe it is the end of a long day. We are tired and our feet hurt. Can we focus on this fact instead of drifting into wanting and aversion? Can we be gently aware of the range of physical sensations as well as the range of reactions? This is such a wise use of time. But it can just slip through our fingers. We can con­stantly think that we have something more important to do.

~*~

I took some artsy photos in a car wash and I also updated my Flickr page, so yall come over and see my purty pics.

Have a great Day of the Dead/All Souls Day.

Owl mythology

At left: On Sunday, I saw this owl on the Swamp Rabbit Trail, maybe 90 minutes before dusk.




He flew from tree to tree about 100 yards in front of me, which is when I first noticed him. He had an enormous wing span. I was walking in his direction, so when I arrived below the tree where he was, I spoke to him. He looked right at me and seemed to be listening. I suddenly understood all the stories about owls being "wise"--they do seem to be smart and attentive, with their immense, intense eyes.

Watching him for a few minutes, I realized he was carefully watching me too, looking me up and down. Very large black eyes; a creepy feeling, as if sizing me up to determine if I could be eaten.

I stood there awhile, sort of communing with the owl. I asked him a couple of spiritually-oriented questions that I won't repeat here. As I said, he seemed to be listening, so why not? The swamp is so, so hushed and quiet. It seemed appropriate to break the silence and say hello.

I then pointed him out to the next couple of cyclists as they whizzed by; these two expensively-sports-attired young fellows ignored me as if I was a crazy old woman (uh-oh). But the next two middle-aged women cyclists stopped and cooed appreciatively at him, taking photos also. A nice Baptist-looking family of cyclists also stopped, their teenage son especially impressed, exclaiming he had never been so close to an owl that was not caged.

On my way home, I idly considered the Lakota legend concerning the sighting of owls in the daytime (portent of death) and wondered if Lakota legends 1) applied to non-Lakota, and 2) applied in Carolina. (Wouldn't Cherokee or Catawba legends apply here instead?) And then I promptly forgot about the owl... until I dreamed about him.

He was answering my questions. He answered them very clearly, but not in "language." They were answers that formed in my mind, and when I woke up, I knew what I should do and what was going to happen.

So, I realize now that the owls are magic.

I posted the owl's photo on Facebook and received a couple of warnings about bad luck. And so I looked up some of the mythology and omens connected with owls. I discovered that throughout the world, they are regarded as signs of both good and bad luck. Also, I learned that the concept of owls being "sisters" originally comes from the indigenous people of Australia (see list below), which I hadn't known. There is a national women's organization called OWL (Older Women's League), which (as far as I know) has mostly regrouped into smaller, local chapters. I always wondered why they chose that particular name; I assumed it was a reference to the wisdom of age. I realize now that the connection of owls/women is part of the world's mythology.

The Owl Pages offers everything you ever wanted to know about owls. I discovered his species: Barred Owl, although many southerners call them Rain Owls, which is certainly an interesting (and appropriate!) name, since we have had so much rain lately.

From the Owl Pages, I found a list of fascinating world-legends and mythology about owls.

Here are some of my favorites:

Africa, Central: the Owl is the familiar of wizards to the Bantu.

Africa, Southern: Zulus know the Owl as the sorcerers' bird.

Africa, West: the messenger of wizards and witches, the Owl's cry presages evil.

Algeria: place the right eye of an Eagle Owl in the hand of a sleeping woman and she will tell all.

Arabia: the Owl is a bird of ill omen, the embodiment of evil spirits that carries off children at night. According to an ancient Arabic treatise, from each female Owl supposedly came two eggs, one held the power to cause hair to fall out and one held the power to restore it. Arabs once believed that the spirit of a murdered man continues to wail and weep until his death is avenged. They believed that a bird that they called "al Sada" (or the death-owl) would continue to hoot over the grave of a slain man whose death had not been avenged. The bird would continue to hoot endlessly until the slain man's death was avenged.

Arctic Circle: a little girl was turned into a bird with a long beak by magic, but was so frightened she flapped about madly and flew into a wall, flattening her face and beak. So the Owl was created.

Australia: Aborigines believe bats represent the souls of men and Owls the souls of women. Owls are therefore sacred, because your sister is an Owl - and the Owl is your sister.

Borneo: the Supreme Being turned his wife into an Owl after she told secrets to mortals.

Brittany: an Owl seen on the way to the harvest is the sign of a good yield.

Burma: during a quarrel among the birds, the Owl was jumped upon and so his face was flattened.

Cameroon: too evil to name, the Owl is known only as "the bird that makes you afraid".

Carthage: the city was captured by Agathocles of Syracuse (Southern Italy) in 310 BC. Afterward, he released Owls over his troops and they settled on their shields and helmets, signifying victory in battle.

Celtic: the Owl was a sign of the underworld.

China: the Owl is associated with lightning (because it brightens the night) and with the drum (because it breaks the silence). Placing Owl effigies in each corner of the home protect it against lightning. The Owl is regarded as a symbol of too much Yang (positive, masculine, bright, active energy).

France: when a pregnant woman hears an Owl it is an omen that her child will be a girl.

Germany: if an Owl hoots as a child is born, the infant will have an unhappy life.

India: The Barn owl is the "vahana" (transport/vehicle/mount) of the Hindu goddess of wisdom, Lakshmi. As such, the owl is held as a symbol of wisdom and learning. The eagle owls, especially the rock eagle owl [Bubo bengalensis] and the brown fish owl [Bubo zeylonensis] are called " ullu" in Hindi and the word is also used as a synonym for "idiot" or "imbecile". The most chilling sound during the quiet and cold winter nights in the plains of Bengal is perhaps the call of the " kaal penchaa", the Brown Hawk Owl. The rhythmic "kuk - kuk - kuk" is believed to be a foreboding of impending death.

Indonesia: Around Manado, on the isle of Sulawesi, People consider Owls very wise. They call them Burung Manguni. Every time someone wants to travel, they listen to the owls. The owls make two different sounds; the first means it is safe to go, and the second means it's better to stay at home. The Minahasa, people around Manado, take those warnings very seriously.

Iran: In Farsi the Little Owl (Athene Noctua) is called "Joghde-kochek". It is said that this bird brings bad luck. In Islam, it's forbidden (Haram) to eat.

Ireland: An Owl that enters the house must be killed at once, for if it flies away it will take the luck of the house with it.

Israel: in Hebrew lore the Owl represents blindness and desolation and is unclean.

At left: the swamp itself, which is much more ominous after heavy rains. I love love love it, except for the mosquitoes, which are humongous and always-starving. It is also home to the largest snake I have EVER seen that wasn't under glass in a zoo.

~*~





Japan: Among the Ainu people the Eagle Owl is revered as a messenger of the gods or a divine ancestor. They would drink a toast to the Eagle Owl before a hunting expedition. The Screech Owl warns against danger, although they believe the Barn Owl and Horned Owl are demonic. They would nail wooden images of owls to their houses in times of famine or pestilence.

Latvia: when Christian soldiers entered his temple, the local pagan god flew away as an Owl.

Lorraine: spinsters go to the woods and call to the Owl to help them find a husband.

Madagascar: Owls join witches to dance on the graves of the dead.

Malawi: the Owl carries messages for witches.

Mexico: the Owl makes the cold North wind (the gentle South wind is made by the butterfly). The Little Owl was called "messenger of the lord of the land of the dead", and flew between the land of the living and the dead.

Newfoundland: the hoot of the Horned Owl signals the approach of bad weather.

Poland: Polish folklore links Owls with death. Girls who die unmarried turn into doves; girls who are married when they die turn into Owls. An owl cry heard in or near a home usually meant impending death, sickness, or other misfortune. An old story tells how the Owl does not come out at during the day because it is too beautiful, and would be mobbed by other, jealous birds.

Puerto Rico: The Owl is called "Mucaro". Back in the 1800s, the people from the mountain coffee plantations used to blame the little mucaro for the loss of coffee grains. The belief was that the coffee was part of the owls' diet, and many owls were killed. There are old folklore songs on the subject, one goes like this:

Poor Mucaro, you're a gentleman
you just want to eat a rat
then the rat
set up a trap
he eats the coffee grains
and people blame you.

Romania: the souls of repentant sinners flew to heaven in the guise of a Snowy Owl.

Russia: hunters carry Owl claws so that, if they are killed, their souls can use them to climb up to Heaven. It is said that Tartar shaman of Central Russia could assume Owl shapes. Kalmyks hold the Owl to be sacred because one once saved the life of Genghis Khan.

Samoa: the people are descended from an Owl.

Siberia: the Owl is a helpful spirit.

Spain: legend has it that the Owl was once the sweetest of singers, until it saw Jesus crucified. Ever since it has shunned daylight and only repeats the words 'cruz, cruz' ('cross, cross').

Sri Lanka: the Owl is married to the bat.

Sumeria: The goddess of death, Lilith, was attended by Owls.

Sweden: the Owl is associated with witches.

~*~

And so we see, Owls are often connected with women, and with spirituality... or both.

Since my dream, I choose to see my owl as a good omen. But I also realize that life IS impermanence, and what is regarded as "good" right now, may well be considered "bad" in the future.

Perhaps that is the lesson of the owl. Live completely in the present.

Eyes of the World

Eyes of the World - Grateful Dead (studio version)



According to the invaluable ANNOTATED GRATEFUL DEAD (linked above), by way of Deadhead Scott Robertson:

"You are the eyes of the world" is a translation of the noted Buddhist practitioner Longchenpa's practical guide to the tantra (The Jewel Ship: A Guide to the Meaning of Pure and Total Presence, the Creative Energy of the Universe, byang chub kyi sems kun byed rgyal po'i don khrid din chen sgru bo). It was translated by Kennard Lipman and Merrill Peterson and published by Lotsawa of Novato, CA. I believe the change in name occurred after the last publication date of 1987. The song itself obviously held importance for the folks involved in its production for part of [Robert] Hunter's lyrics are printed opposite the title page. After reading the text the relationship becomes very clear since it instructs the reader how to experience pure presence. How many times at a show did I feel that...

I chose the studio version for the multiple sweet, sublime guitar solos. Just like a mountain breeze.

The sparkle of your china

Just returned from the local March Against Monsanto meeting. This event will be nationwide on May 25th.




Next meeting before the event will be at the Swamp Rabbit Cafe and Grocery, next Thursday at 6pm, yall come. In the meantime, please support Vernon Hugh Bowman in his fight against Monsanto's legal abuse.

~*~

As promised on the air today, here is the link to today's show. I started out a little jumbled, since we had some technical issues (we weren't in our usual studio and the acoustics were somewhat off), but I changed microphones, finally got going and tried to make some sense. Our first subject was the confrontation between trans activists and an anarchist group called Deep Green Resistance, while they were selling feminist books at the Law and Disorder Conference at Portland State University this past weekend. I react pretty strongly to defacing books or otherwise rudely rousting politicos at a table because it has happened to me many times; harassed by bikers at outdoor festivals for lefty literature, jeered at by fundamentalists at Occupy, and so forth and so on (in fact, I wrote about one such incident HERE). So, I asked, what IS hate speech and how should we handle it? One's person's hate speech is another person's Gospel (literally!), so what should we do in a pluralistic society that values the First Amendment?

Aside: I used to warn radical feminists that their eagerness to call everything (such as porn) 'hate speech' would some day come back to bite them in the ass, and here we are.

Increasingly, I am puzzled by trans activists' fixation on radical feminists (whom they call 'radscum'). Why not focus on fundamentalist right wingers who are far more numerous and say the same things? More to the point, the radscum do not seek to deny GLBT equal rights or try to keep folks from transitioning; they just argue (endlessly, relentlessly) about the physiological and social meaning(s) of "woman" and "female". The Christian fundamentalist Republicans think trans people should be forced to use their birth names on their drivers licenses and if they don't, locked up in mental institutions and/or arrested for fraud. Who is worse? And who has more power to enforce their prejudices?

Why not go after the REAL scum?

I'm ready when you are.

~*~

Today's blog post title comes from Steely Dan's excellent album, COUNTDOWN TO ECSTASY (1973).

As I continuously plow through Shantideva's The Way of the Bodhisattva, I just keep thinking of the lyrics.

Bodhisattva
Would you take me by the hand
Bodhisattva
Would you take me by the hand
Can you show me
The shine of your Japan
The sparkle of your china
Can you show me
Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva
I'm gonna sell my house in town
Bodhisattva
I'm gonna sell my house in town
And I'll be there
To shine in your Japan
To sparkle in your China
Yes I'll be there
Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva...

Bodhisattva - Steely Dan

Atheism and (lack of) morality

Are atheists more moral than those of us who do not classify ourselves that way? I often think they are. Perhaps this is why they aren't unnerved about the long-term effects of atheism; they are doing fine, and they assume everyone else will, too.

The 'new atheists' are basically moral and well-behaved, so they don't realize that some of us are moral and well-behaved simply to keep from burning in hell for all eternity.

If there was no God or no law or no karma, we would SETTLE SOME SCORES.

I started thinking about this after participating on an atheist blog some years ago, when I was still identifying as Christian. I was struck by the fact that one of my serious questions was thought to be a joke, or at the least, a sarcastic rejoinder. It wasn't. I was dead serious. But the atheists didn't think I was serious, and that is what I found alarming: this means they do not understand what a serious matter it is.

Once again, I felt we were trying to communicate across a huge abyss.

I asked, "What about the fact that believing there is a God, keeps lots of people from killing each other?"

HAHAHA, they all responded, virtually as one unit. Well, they sneered back, one can learn not to kill someone without God. They acted like it was a simple decision, not a seductive thought that one consciously wrestles with (as in Woody Allen's great movie Crimes and Misdemeanors); an act that you eventually logically decide is... not nice. And so, you don't do it.

But why not, in that case? I asked what would be the deterrent, if there is no hell-fire? No bad karma and/or no punishment? Again, they sneered and thought I was joking or being a wise-ass. (It is also notable that they apparently assumed I was talking about someone else, i.e. The Bad People, rather than myself and other regular people like me.)

I wasn't. I was being rational. Belief systems (various kinds) have kept a lot of us from going off on people and committing violence. If there is no divine retribution, no holy justice, no guarantee the evil will be punished... do you understand how dangerous such an idea is?

Let me be very clear: Do the privileged understand that if the poor stop believing in God, they will no longer be safe? Are they ready for that world? Because I don't mind telling you, I'm not.

"Are you saying God is the only reason people act morally? What does that say about you and your view of humanity?"

My view of humanity is utterly realistic: humans have enslaved each other, pillaged, raped, and committed mass genocide. There have been Final Solutions, prison camps and Gulags. People have killed each other for insurance policies, parking places, brand-name shoes and having the wrong tattoos. And this has been possible even though the perpetrators DID believe in divine retribution and everlasting hell-fire. What if they stopped? What if all that matters is only what we see right in front of us: what you can get away with?

Will that be a better world? Doesn't it frighten you?

I don't think it frightens the atheists, because they are intrinsically moral people. This is why they can do without Gods, while the rest of us have floundered, made serious moral errors, became addicted or went to jail ... we have messed up again and again. We have had to pray late into the night, to be delivered from soul-devouring anger, envy or desires for revenge. We have suddenly left crowded parties because if we didn't, we were going to grab someone by the hair and throw them into the wall, before they even knew what hit them. We can taste the blood; we want to HURT people. We want to make them PAY.

And then, we tell ourselves, wait, that isn't up to me: Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. (This phrase has the effect of deflating my anger immediately.) Karma, we assure ourselves, will deal with that individual. It isn't up to me. "What goes around comes around"--we remind ourselves and everyone around us. The overriding concept, of course, is that there WILL be justice. Therefore, I do not have to be the one to administer it.

But you atheists are telling me--it IS something I should administer myself, or it won't get done? You tell me justice will not inevitably happen?

This is something I wrote about in an old post, first quoting bell hooks:

[Quote from bell hooks]: my grandfather [was a black] sharecropper, and definitely the white man was on his back, but what I remember about that, when this man would walk through his fields and see his vegetables that he grew, he’d say, “See these vegetables. White men cannot make the sun shine. They cannot control..”

I mean here’s a black man who did not go to school, who did not have an education. But he found a sense of self that transcended the idea of him as a victim. Because he could say “yes white men have power over my life. They exploit and terrorize me, but at the end of the day, there’s a power higher than white men that I can lend my imagination to.”

[my comment]: And I would add, this is one reason why belief in god(s) has such a hold on people. To some, it is a synonym for a higher justice, a higher truth, a higher law--above and beyond unjust earthly authorities that dominate us on a daily basis.

When the atheists sneer at that, it can be experienced by non-privileged believers as endorsing the material world as it is (with oppressive powers intact) and negating the self-preservationist experiences of the oppressed.

What do the atheists intend for us losers who use religion and sky-fairies to feel better? (If religion is indeed the opiate of the masses, do atheists think believers will happily greet the people who propose to take away our opiates?) What do they have to put in its place? Will it serve the same purpose(s) and properly spur us to leave the party when we see the person we want to throw headlong into the wall? Or will we think, hey, fuck it, NO GOD, NO MASTERS, and follow them into the restroom where there are no surveillance cameras and dunk their head into the toilet repeatedly, as in LA Confidential?

Why not?

~*~

For some of us, morality has not been easy. We have had to work at it, think about it, study it and dedicate our lives to it. We study theology and religion, because we are obsessed with morals. If you rip the rug of theology/religion/rules/myth out from under us, it would leave us empty, since this is where we initially got our morality from (in a way that we could understand) and how we learned to integrate it into our being. Some of us really do need the rules... because if there aren't any, we will go hog-wild. We know this, since we already have. We have to engage in continuous remedial education about the rules, and the reasons for them, to keep us from breaking them again and again.

I think the 'new atheists' underestimate the importance of God/belief systems in keeping us moral. Is it possible that the atheists are more moral than the rest of us, and do not need rules to govern their behavior? How can we impress upon them, that for some of us, it is in the interests of society that we adhere to these beliefs, or there could be unbridled chaos, Lord of the Flies?

And why have so few believers made this argument? Probably because believers like to think they are moral. This is likely because we think about morality a good deal; I think this is because WE HAVE TO, TO STAY MORAL.

The reason so many religious adherents believe atheists could not be moral, is because WE cannot imagine ourselves moral in the same existential circumstances.

~*~

At the end of Flannery O'Connor's short story, Good Country People, the simple country man posing as an innocent Bible salesman is suddenly uncovered as a freaky, abusive sociopath. The educated, atheist PhD in the story, has accepted him at face value ... right up to the end of the story, when he unexpectedly and cruelly humiliates her. "You ain't so smart," he schools her, "I been believing in nothing ever since I was born!"

The end of this story, and those words, have always chilled me to the bone. Because whenever I read all the highly-educated atheist discussions on the net; whenever I read ultra-smart authors like Steven Pinker; whenever I admire the smart, self-sufficient, rational atheists who know where they are going and how to get there... I suddenly remember the sociopathic Bible salesman. And I worry that the 'new atheism' may be more successful than it should be. It might branch out from the moral, rational, educated people like Steven Pinker and Dan Fincke... to sociopaths-in-training, like O'Connor's Bible salesman... and to morally-struggling (and/or morally-confused) people like me. I think I am a fairly average person in many ways, and I know that the overall message we take away from the New Atheism, may not be the fresh-faced utopian vision of ideological and intellectual freedom, that the new atheists obviously wish for us. The atheists believe that their cleansing experience of rationality would also be ours, but our experience might not be anything remotely like that.

It may be the experience of finally doing those things that we have always held back... because... well, why not?

...


And I wish they would start taking that idea seriously.

Yearly round-up: books, movies, etc

At left, DVD cover, George Harrison: Living in the Material World





I just loooooved Martin Scorsese's documentary about George Harrison, my favorite Beatle, incredible talent and just plain awesome individual. George introduced that old-time religion to the West, and for that, he got more karma points than you and I put together. The mind boggles.

I appreciated the film's emphasis on George's spiritual journey, which was given all proper and due respect; possibly for the first time I can recall. In most accounts, it's always been some variation of "ohhhhh there's goes dreamy George off with his Indian gurus again..."

What does it mean when someone has more money, fame, attention, sex, etc than most of us can contemplate in our wildest fantasies... and yet, still feels that something is missing? George's life is an enduring testament to spirituality-as-direct-experience, that I have always found very moving and intense.

"GEORGE!!!!!!!" -- screams, squeals; Daisy momentarily reverts to childhood.

~*~

After viewing the somewhat-interesting Another Earth, I watched the second movie from screenwriter-actress Brit Marling, titled The Sound of My Voice. Great premise, as with Another Earth... but my grandmother's phrase, too clever by half, comes to mind. The movie tries to have its cake and eat it too... the ending is something of a cheat, in my humble opinion... although very clever (too clever by half). Describing the movie further, is to jeopardize the story and the ending, although lots of people have.

Both of these indie movies are similar in that they are 1) weird, and 2) ponderous and thoughtful. But more than that, one gets the impression that everybody sat around brainstorming, figured out the boffo endings first and then WORKED BACKWARD. Both movies seem to work up to the 'surprise' endings, stacking the deck in ways that seem overly obvious in retrospect.

One of the strengths of truly surprising, beloved and inventive film-endings, is NOT stacking the deck, and hitting you upside the head all at once: BAM. Think: The Sixth Sense, Fight Club. You DID NOT see it coming, or only glimmers of it, and those delicious glimmers made you sufficiently curious to continue watching. In addition, these movies were not ALL ABOUT the endings, and in fact, people continue to talk about both movies without even referencing the endings. In short, you do not have to love the endings to enjoy both films, and plenty of people disliked the endings who nonetheless greatly enjoyed the movies as a whole.

I don't think that is possible for either Another Earth or The Sound of My Voice, in which one continues watching just to see their respective endings. The actual content of these movies tends to disappear into some kind of cinematic vortex, and the END is the whole thing. The tension is ratcheted up so high, one is watching just to get to the resolution of the grand puzzle; this viewer-disposition is likely due to the fact that they imagined the ending first, and worked backwards, filling in the blanks.

To briefly summarize, The Sound of My Voice is about a cult leader who claims to be from the future. Is she? Well? And you keep watching to find out. Do you actually find out? That is the pertinent question: I think it cheats and you don't, or do, or sorta-kinda both. Huh?

If this plot-line interests you, check it out. Apparently, this was originally planned as the first film in a trilogy, and I'd be lying to you if I said I wouldn't watch the sequels. In fact, the film makes sense as one of a trilogy, in the sense that it might not (in that case) be a total cheat, but I was still a little pissed. Excuse me, but that's 85 minutes I'd like to have back, if you are not going to answer the fucking question. Hmph! (And at this point, it is not clear that they will even be able to make the sequels.)

Hello, lovely Ms Marling and company, this is what SERIAL TELEVISION is for. Maybe you should go to HBO or somebody like that next time, instead of seeking all that attention at Sundance.

~*~

I was sufficiently blown away by Damien Echols' amazing prison memoir, "Life After Death", that I did most of a podcast about it. I certainly cannot do it justice. If I had to recommend one book for the year, this would be it.

How does one keep from losing one's mind and/or being eaten up with fury, while spending 18 years (half his life) on Arkansas's Death Row, for something you didn't do? Another deeply spiritual testimony. His repeated use of the word "magickal" (for those things that transcend everyday-life and take us elsewhere), is just perfect, and aptly conjures up that momentary experience for us. If not for the magickal, some of us would shrivel up and die... and Damien was forced to cultivate the magickal in small, seemingly-inconsequential things (correspondence and pencil-sketches) and almost-forgotten memories, such as old mud puddles and songs he hadn't heard in decades.

A lesser-soul would have been completely destroyed. Many men (and yes, they are men) are completely destroyed, and he tells us all about that, too.

An uncompromising, poetic, breathtaking account. Go read it. Now.

~*~

Ayn Rand and the World She Made was some great reading, providing us with a detailed year-by-year account of Rand's life. Biographer Anne Heller obviously admired Rand, and that gives us the kind of intensity an Objectivist would deliver. The sexual abuse of starry-eyed-young-acolyte turned self-esteem-theorist Nathaniel Branden, is offered here in bright primary colors, so all you fellow scandal-mongers take note. (PS: And who knew that the former Nathan Blumenthal changed his name to one that had Rand's name embedded within? The book is full of GREAT GOSSIPY DETAILS like that.)

I came away convinced that Rand was a lifelong amphetamine-addict, which explained many of the awful extremes in her personality, particularly her ongoing personal paranoia. The fact that she surrounded herself with idolizing sycophants means that nobody challenged this facet of her character; to challenge her was to be consigned to the outer darkness, and few of her Objectivist cult/crew dared to go there.

And therefore, like so many other famous people we can name, she just got worse.

The book succeeded in making me compassionate for Rand, both as an intelligent woman who was often not taken seriously and/or understood, and as a drug addict who did not realize what was happening to her.

This doesn't mean she wasn't a horrific and selfish person; she was. But now I understand why.

And speaking of karma, Rand has plenty to answer for. Her influence on our government and economy has been widespread and damaging, starting with her acolyte Alan Greenspan getting his bullshit ideas taken seriously (while Rand herself could not) and getting himself repeatedly hired and promoted as some kind of economic genius. You can easily clock the deep influence of Rand on the Republican Party, including the fact that one of her fanboys recently ran for Vice President.

If you are interested in a thoroughly fascinating individual, a cultural touchstone and influential life--check out the Heller biography. Of all the books I have read about Ayn Rand (several), this one is the most comprehensive, descriptive and fair.

~*~

Sybil Exposed: The Extraordinary Story Behind the Famous Multiple Personality Case by Debbie Nathan, is indeed extraordinary. If you are a baby-boomer who read the popular SYBIL by Flora Rheta Schreiber in the 70s (and it seems that everyone did) and/or watched the TV-movie starring Sally Field (ditto), THIS IS FOR YOU.

Nathan's investigative account is about the genesis of the book; the psychiatric fraud/fakery and therapeutic-abuse propagated for the sake of money (and goodness, it poured in like water!). One fascinating subplot includes the details of how various psychological 'syndromes' are popularized and then streak through the population like wildfire. (Remember how "multiple personality disorder" became all the rage, with respectable stories on "60 Minutes" and so on?) Hey, when there is big profit to be made, people always materialize to make it. When the student is ready, the teacher will appear... and we might add, when the disease is invented, the doctor/cure will likewise appear, right on cue. For a fee, of course.

I am often reticent to talk about my ongoing skepticism concerning various hip diagnoses going around: bipolar disorder, ADHD, ADD, Aspergers, and so forth and so on. Everybody is depressed all of a sudden. And I see commercials for drugs, drugs, drugs, and dollar-signs are all over them.

This book renewed my skepticism, and made me feel okay about it. Psychobabble and hip mental-states/Dx go through recognizable phases and turn into fads (especially if there is profit at stake)... and somehow (just like religion) psychology always manages to renew itself and stay above the fray it creates. These charlatans never have to answer for themselves, and thus, they never do.

This is one such amazing tale. Highly recommended.

~*~

Other good books I enjoyed this year--

[] We Are Anonymous: Inside the Hacker World of LulzSec, Anonymous, and the Global Cyber Insurgency by Parmy Olsen, was really wonderful. I picked it up and did not put it down; all deep-internet (as in DEEP SPACE) junkies will enjoy it immensely.

[] As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh: Diaries 1964-1980 by Susan Sontag (which I first mentioned here) has continued to shape my thoughts, months later.

One incisive quote concerning the change-in-consciousness wrought by television (and of course, even more accurate in the internet-era), which I scribbled down:

As the images multiply, the capacity to respond diminishes.

Yes.

[] Inside Scientology by Janet Reitman, is well worth your time. Short version: it's even worse than you think it is.

[] Millennium People, one of the last books by my favorite author, JG Ballard, which has only recently been published in the USA. WE MISS YOU, JAMES GRAHAM BALLARD!. Another excellent, related volume is JG Ballard: Conversations edited by V Vale, which has also been quoted here on DEAD AIR, at some length.

I return to it at regular intervals, to keep my sanity.

~*~

I am currently reading Teachings from the Medicine Buddha Retreat by Kyabje Lama Zopa Rinpoche, which is some rather dense and heavy reading... the kind of density that makes you read and re-read the same few pages, until you are sure you get it. And even then, you probably won't get it.

This encyclical contains lots of what the Baptists would call vain repetitions. The litany-reading, rosary-reciting ex-Catholic in me grimaces at still more verbiage that I must repeat. (sigh) Seriously, is there NO END to it?

Then again, it got George Harrison through. He faced his death on his own terms, unafraid. And it got Damien Echols through 18 years in solitary confinement.

And who could ask for more?

And When the Sky was Opened

A very old woman ran into me at the market today, slammed me in the butt with her cart. She started to cry, and her daughter (about my age) swooped in to rescue her... and I realized that she was what we used to call 'senile'. I guess the acceptable term is now Alzheimer's, that catch-all diagnosis for when the mind goes. I patted her, assured her it was okay. But I was alarmed, because in her distress, I could see myself and what awaits us all.

Buddha told us to meditate on death, and I have.

I once realized the abject terror in the old Twilight Zone episode, "And When the Sky Was Opened" -- was based on the fact that it mirrored our own experience and terror of death. In the show (written by Rod Serling and adapted from a short story by fantasy-genius Richard Matheson), three men come back from a flight into space, and begin to disappear, one by one. The title of Matheson's original story was, fittingly, Disappearing Act.

On the day of their return, the newspaper headline reads "Three Spacemen Return from Crash: All Alive" and then, after a strange chain of events, there are only two. But... there have always been two. The newspaper headline has changed, and now announces: Two Spacemen have returned. It is as if the third astronaut never existed. The two astronauts remaining start to panic, as everyone around them insists, no, there were only two of them, not three. Never three.

At the end, it is James Hutton (father of Timothy) who is the last astronaut left, looking for his suddenly-missing friend, the second astronaut. He then sees the newspaper headline, which now says only ONE astronaut has returned. The expression on his face has remained with me all of my life, ever since seeing this particular Twilight Zone episode as a child. And when I Googled the image, there it was (see above). Obviously, I wasn't the only one.

He knows he is next.

And the show ends with an empty room. None of them have returned from the flight. The camera pans to where their aircraft was. It is gone, too.

My grandmother died in 2004 and my mother died in 2006; it was when my mother died that I realized, I was up next. Maybe not for awhile, one hopes, but up nonetheless. It was no longer a far-away thing that happened to the old people... I was now the old people.

And so it was today, when I saw the old woman in the store, crying and confused. I saw that it was not simply her confusion that made her cry, although it was that, too... it was that she was afraid. I saw James Hutton all over her face. And then, I saw myself.

As I comforted her, I hoped someone would do the same for me.

~*~

Speaking of which, a sweet voice of my childhood is gone. Let us take a moment to remember Scott McKenzie, who recorded John Phillips' folkie-pop hippie anthem, "San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)".

I remember being in San Francisco, hearing the song and feeling oddly displaced, because of course the San Francisco I had moved to was not the one in the song, although it had always inspired me. I had moved to Kool and The Gang era San Francisco, the end of the disco era. I remember falling asleep under an open window and starry sky in Oakland and hearing it there too, thinking how odd it was that the song had helped make San Francisco too expensive for people like me to live in. For this reason, it made me sad to hear it, one of the first feelings of aging that I ever remember experiencing.

I came home from the market, and my experience of the woman running into me and weeping, to hear that McKenzie had passed.

It was the perfect ending to a day I had started with an extended meditation on death.

~*~

San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair) - Scott McKenzie



In this video of McKenzie performing the song at the Monterey Pop Festival, you see Brian Jones, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Mama Cass... again, the perfect ending to my daily meditation...

Happy Bloggiversary to me!

At left: The Bottom Line Band entertained us a couple of weeks ago, and I apologize for not posting their photo until now. I am nothing if not prompt!




The heat index in upstate South Carolina is a whopping 105 degrees... which I knew even before they told me.

~*~

Announcement: As of this month, I have been blogging FIVE YEARS!

It is unbelievable. I never thought it would last this long. I remember wondering if I would even make it a whole year, and then, could I make it to the second? How on earth did that turn into FIVE years?

I am not the same person I was when I started.

We change and evolve constantly. I have a new understanding and appreciation for people who delete blogs and start new ones, as well as those who stop blogging altogether. It feels as if the old posts no longer represent us, and they can actually embarrass us. Our personal evolution, for good or ill, is there for everyone to see and judge. For example, all of my Christian posts are intact and continue to be linked by Christians, some of whom still contact me. All sorts of opinions and political views I no longer hold are presented here, and I have even made total reversals on some issues. (Is this proof I am indecisive and wishy-washy, or open-minded and continuing to learn?)

Changing our minds is something we all do, but I have a detailed record of my various mind-changes, and most people don't.

We always want our narrative to fit who we think we are at any given time. This is why Orwell's account of revisionist history in 1984 (i.e.: "Oceania has always been at war with Eastasia") makes such an emotional impact on us: We do exactly that type of reality-rewrite, often. If we decide someone or something is bad, we like to say we knew it all along. We search our pasts and come up with evidence that we should have paid attention to; we tell ourselves we never DID trust that person/cause/brand/job/car/town/public figure in the first place, and next time, we will follow our instincts. But this isn't true at all. We are trying to minimize the pain of disappointment, as well as our feelings of embarrassment for our faulty judgment. We try to cover up our gullible natures or our desire to think the best of people, all because we want them to like us too. When it all backfires, we feverishly look for the reasons, the various just-so stories that make us feel better.

But alas, blogging makes us tell the truth. The past is right here, in technicolor, and I can't lie about it.

In some ways, this can become unbearable... which is why I think so many people delete their blogs. It is as if you have no control over your own autobiography and how it will be interpreted. In other ways, it can be very freeing: here I am, no pretense and no phony baloney (as my grandmother, namesake of this blog, would say).

In 2010, I posted very sparingly and had a spiritual crisis. I didn't really know what I should say about that, so I haven't said too much. If I had to name the major difference between Christianity and Buddhism, I think it would be how Christianity exhorts us to share the "Good News" (Gospel), whereas Buddhism mostly counsels us to shut up.

But that would be the major transformation over the past few years. Although I defended Christianity vociferously when I first started blogging, I ended up jumping ship myself.

If you don't think that isn't embarrassing, think again.

But that's me, and that's how it happened. To start a new blog acting like I was always in possession of spiritual truths that I only recently discovered, would simply be false. That isn't who I am.

~*~

I have wondered if blogging is becoming extinct, and perhaps it is. I plow onward out of habit, and because there are facts posted here that haven't been posted anywhere else. I am a great believer in keeping careful records, and I am always amazed by how so much was left unrecorded back in the day. I look up various events from the past and can find no accounts of them, or maybe only one lone photo or abbreviated news account. My advice to all baby-boomers is to start posting your photos and history, especially pre-internet history.

The glut of camera-phones now is basically the OPPOSITE of what so many of us remember: no photos at ALL of so many important days in our lives. So much lost.

Our memories count, too, so tell your stories. Write them down. In reading over my own blog, I am so often struck by the passing details, as well as vivid ones. I remember the storm in this photo; I remember Social Distortion's version of "Ring of Fire"; I remember my granddaughter's week-long visit with me. My blog is like a mental photo album, an emotional and spiritual map of where I have been.

I would blog even if nobody read it. As small blogs dwindle in importance, it may likely come to that. But I would still post the updates.

After all, something really important might happen. :)