Yes, that ridiculous, toxic, noxious Circus Clown Con Man Did a Very, Very Bad Thing.

A flurry of news yesterday....

Some of us have known the broad outlines of this story for quite a long time. You don't need to be a conspiracy-minded lunatic to see the crazy truth that is dancing right before your eyes.

"The plea includes evidence, for the first time, that could show how Trump was compromised by Russia while Russian President Vladimir Putin was waging a direct attack on the 2016 election."

Yeah. Read the Steele Dossier in Buzzfeed. Crazy Spy Stuff for sure. But you know sometimes the truth sounds sort of crazy, but the crazy nature of the info doesn't make it any less true.

Read Luke Harding's book "Collusion:" Secret Meetings, Dirty Money and How Russia Helped Donald Trump Win.  The grand saga in a nutshell. 

Also check out Luke Harding's articles for the Guardian.  And be sure to read Adam Davison in the New Yorker, for instance, start with "Michael Cohen and the End Stage of the Trump Presidency."

And check back in with Buzzfeed for "The Crazy True Story of Trump Moscow." Fantastic reporting from Anthony Cormier and Jason Leopold.

There is lots of great reporting from journalists all over the land, be sure to check in frequently with Juliette Kayyem, Natasha Bertrand, Marcy Wheeler, Josh Gerstein, Zoe Tillman, Erica Orden, and the great Washington Post. Don't forget the Atlantic, Buzzfeed, Mother Jones. Be sure to tune into the Rachel Maddow Show, Rachel is giving us a history on Nixon's Watergate, and delving deep into the weeds on this unfolding scandal. She is a great story-teller. Compelling, enlightening.

The story of our lifetime. Yes, it's crazy, improbable, ridiculous, but true: there is a Russian Dupe/Asset in the White House. Yes, that ridiculous, toxic, noxious Circus Clown Con Man did a very, very bad thing. The chickens are coming home to roost... "Look out Mama there's a white boat coming up the river..."

Particles of Condensed Vapor Suspended in the Atmosphere!

Clouds: "a visible mass of particles of condensed vapor (such as water or ice) suspended in the atmosphere of a planet (such as the earth) or moon."

Yeah. Clouds this morning. No sunshine. Sort of sets the tone for the day. That "visible mass" is sort of like a veil over the prospects of the day. How is it possible that those particles of condensed vapor could have such a profound effect on mood and temperament? We are just so damn sensitive.

Mojo is low this morning. Coffee isn't working. Clouds hover over everything. A little doubt creeps in. A darkness looms. Uncertainty creeps into the frame. Atmosphere = Suspended! Wonder what happens next?

The Blagojevich Phase...

Robert Mueller's Endgame May Be In Sight...

I do think we have entered the Blagojevich phase of our national nightmare, our slow-motion, car-crashing, constitutional crisis. You know, we have reached that point in the saga where we have a really corrupt and supremely dumb, hair-challenged person committing crimes, while under investigation for being really corrupt, supremely dumb and hair-challenged, and committing crimes! The blatant, audacious, over the top, in-real-time, stupidity is pretty ridiculous, awe-inspiring and mind-numbing. Amazing shit.

I do think whatever our supremely stupid and corrupt hair-challenged President does going forward only sinks him deeper in a slimy pit of crime and stupidity. He can't help himself. He knows no other way. And he's such a big, dolt, a complete & total fool, that he thinks he can bluff and huff and puff his way out of it all.  So funny. Really. To witness Karma in action, it is an amazing, awe-inspiring thing to behold. Lots more action to come. Stay tuned Folks!

The Confidence Man is Fucked!

We all watched the Confidence Man (he promised that he would make everything better, that he alone could do it, that the past would be the now, and that all the old hatreds would be the new and eternal hatreds), float above us. We were all amazed. We all asked ourselves: "How does he do it? No one saw it coming." We were all surprised. Very surprised. We all began to think that even though we all lived in a world of gravity, this Confidence Man defied the rules. Gravity wasn't for him. He tore up the rule book. He knew secrets no one else knew, he lived under a lucky star. Yes, of course, it was obvious, this Confidence Man lived a life of absolute dissolution, he was corrupt to the bone, his empire was built on lies, bluster, bad faith, bad blood, bankruptcy and illicit money, but hell, he was good at keeping one step ahead of the law, the bankers, the lawyers, the common folk. He seemed to have some kind of weird superpower, he never had to face the consequences of his actions, there was always someone else ready to clean up after him. He didn't have to live in the world of gravity, facts, truth, reality like the rest of us. And then, well, what do you know, the worm woke up, the worm turns... It looks like a new day is dawning across the land, it looks like those days of stupefied gravity-defying are over! The tsunami of consequence is coming to our lovely shores and heading right into the wheelhouse of that bilious, overstuffed, Confidence Man. Think: gravity rules, facts matter, truth will out, reality always bites you in your fat ass. One day, it's obvious, everyone can see it, it is awe-inspiring, amazing, beautiful... the Confidence Man is sinking, he is totally, totally fucked!

I Use Tarot Cards!

I use Tarot cards. I often start the day shuffling the cards and laying them out on the living room carpet, Oriental, don't you know? It's a habit, a thing I do. I love the imagery. I sometimes use the cards in my meditations. I use the Crowley deck. I love his interpretation of the Tarot. I love how he kind of re-framed the Devil card as the "happy, three-eyed, Goat."

My "life-time symbol" is the Emperor.  I have always had a problem with authority. I have always kind of grappled and fumbled with how to deal with the reality of my own authority. I think that's one of the things I've been working on this time around.

My favorite card is The Hermit. I have often found myself trying to walk the "mystical path on practical feet." That's kind of a mantra for me, a worthy mission, for sure.

This morning it's all Swords & Wands. Fire & Air. Typical day! Advice: "Listen to the inner wisdom offered by the wise elder that dwells inside of you." Got it!

"Comfort Food for the Soul!"

Our band, whitewolfsonicprincess has had a string of excellent shows. Good music rooms. Exuberant audiences. The band has tightened and loosened. There are seven of us now, when we are in full force. The musicians all really listen to each other, there is an extraordinary conversation going on. A tale told consisting of vibes, invisible waves. Each show is different: the music, the room, the energy, it's always morphing, growing. Pretty thrilling for all of us. We seem to be connecting with new folks at every show. We can't ask for more than that, or, of course, we can and do, we feel we are just at the beginning of something pretty amazing. It's a great feeling. Still, at the same time, we can't take anything for granted. Every show really is a new start.

Anyway, last night, one of our good friends, an extraordinary musician and past collaborator came out to see us play. After the show he said to me that our band was "Comfort Food for the Soul."
Comfort Food: "food that gives emotional comfort to the one eating it, these tend to be favorite foods of childhood, or linked to a person, place or time with which the food has a positive association."

At first I was a bit taken aback, I thought, "Is that good?" Upon reflection, I'd say, yes, I hope it's true. That would be a great and humbling mission: feeding souls with our music, one soul at a time.

Surrender to "God!"

Yes, you find wisdom where you can, sometimes in the unlikeliest of places. Waiting for a couple new books to arrive in the mail, I found myself re-reading Richard Hell's "I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp." I do think it's a beautifully written "autobiography." An uncommon, compelling life for sure. This rang true...

"People don't really have the right to take credit for themselves at all. Ultimately, not only are we all the same, but what happens is out of our control. I suppose that's what religions are about - coming to terms with the way that behind the veil, nobody is different from anyone else, much less better, and no one even has any control over phenomena, including themselves - and is the sense in which religions are true, recommending, under the circumstances, surrender to "God," (which is to say, acceptance of "what happens"). All there is are the entertainments, pastimes, of love and work, the hope of keeping interested." - Richard Hell

The Silent Witness

Thanksgiving 2018. Time to laze around a bit.

Started the morning with a great pot of coffee and a 5 disc (Please, Please Me, Let it Be Naked, Rubber Soul,  Revolver, and Past Masters Vol. 2), Beatles mix. Sorry. You cannot do better than the Beatles. I agree with Chuck Klosterman: Best song-writers, best vocalists, all the best songs. Perfect marriage of creativity and commerce. Of course, their range is greater than your's, so there are a handful of songs you tend to skip, usually one on nearly every album (think: Maxwell's Silver Hammer, Mr. Moonlight, Honey Pie, Taste of Honey, Yellow Submarine),  mainly the schmaltzy, goofy, music-hall type songs, but still, if you want to put a smile on your face in the a.m. Do a Beatles mix! Exuberant!

Turned on the TV, with sound off, and watched big rubber characters floating down the streets of New York in the frigid temps. That's entertainment!

Lots of conversations yesterday. Lots of worrying about getting into conversations. It turns out all was fine. The most important thing: The Hugs. The Hand-holding.  Yes, forget words, forget the worries, forget the long and winding history, and the deeply, profoundly uncertain future. No use talking.

Everything was contained in the hugs... the holding of hands... the deep, physical, silent witness...

Tend to Your Garden.

Yes. We live with Chaos (see previous post). That's life. Things go wrong all the time. The world is shit. It's also wonderful. Life is hard. Life is beautiful. There is pain. There is joy. Do these things cancel each other out? No. There are no guarantees that we will have more joy than pain in our lives. We take our chances.

Best to live humbly, with grace and compassion. Take care of the simple things. Tie your shoes. Eat well. Sleep. Meditate. Fill your life with music, art, great literature. Diversions. Fill your life with diversions. Be busy. Active. Walk. Talk. Find the things you love to do, and do them.

You are a garden. You live in a garden. Tend to your garden. Pray the pieces don't fall on you.

A Shady Bit of Chaos!

Hurtling towards a major crisis. 

Yes, indeed. You can feel it in the air. Political. Financial. Social. Cultural. Environmental. Forces are converging. Bills are coming due. We must all pay the Piper. The Piper is calling the tune, and just what is the tune? "A Shady Bit of Chaos." It's in the air. Walls crumbling. Boundaries breached. Minds blown. Worlds crashing. I can't exactly see how all this rolls out, but it's coming. I can feel it!

A Reckoning, or maybe better a "Wreck-Oning!" A major cataclysm, a Grand Fuckup. Sort of like a planet-wide car crash. Justice? Lots of folks will get what they deserve, but it will be hard to discern if Justice has been served. Too many casualties, too much collateral damage. There will be many innocents swept up in this maelstrom.  Of course, none of us are really, existentially, innocent, even the innocents possess the human stain. We are all to be held to account. Holy, Holy, Fuck!

Without Losing Our Heads!

It might be fun once in awhile, but you don't want to be hallucinating through your life. Altering your perceptions can be head & eye-opening, but you can't be enlightened by your altered perceptions unless you actually, in the clear light, emerge from the altering intact. You might want to dip your toe in the Pond of Hallucinations, but it's no way to live. Just ask those famous LSD casualties, or the local wandering Schizos in the neighborhood.

How about Illusions? Do we want to Illusion ourselves? To actively and intentionally live a Life of Illusion? Do we want to deceive ourselves? Actively misperceive? What of Hope? What of Dreams? What of Poetry?

Do we want to Disillusion ourselves? "The condition of being disenchanted : the condition of being dissatisfied or defeated in expectation or hope."  That doesn't seem like a promising way to live. Do we free ourselves from Illusion and gladly enter into a State of Disenchantment? Seems like a way to diminish ourselves, to impoverish our lives.

Truth. Reality. Clear-seeing. Enchantment. Illusioning. Dreaming. Hoping. How do we balance all these things without losing our heads?

Are You True?

Do you get what you want? Do you want what you get? How do you define success? How do you define failure? Do you measure your life, or do you just live it? Do you think anyone is watching you? Do you really even care? Are you kind? Thoughtful? Determined? How do you sleep at night? Do you see dead people in your dreams? Do you have faith in any thing or any one? Do you believe in anything? How do you occupy your time? How do you explain yourself to yourself? Are you true?

Life. Choosing Things!

Life. You try things. Lots of things. Much of your life you are making choices, choosing. Choosing things to do, and/or things not to do. Those things reveal themselves. You do whatever you do, and then you say to yourself, "That was good, let's do that again." Or, "Never again! I mean it!"

The Mountain of Lies is Crumbling!

The  Lies. 

The Facade, the Mountain of Lies that we have built across the Globe is crumbling, falling away. Our eyes are open wide. We are Clear-seeing. We see the Lies that come from every quarter, every direction, every Center of Power. We have built great Temples on great Lies. Corporations. Governments. Institutions of every kind. The Lies are being exposed, revealed every single day. The Lies can't stand the Light of Day, and a New Dawn awaits.

This Morning in this Fake Empire...

I usually, I mean, I always, if I can, start the day early, turn the radio on, brew up a pot of coffee, take the dishes out of the dishwasher. It's a routine, a ritual, an orderly way to start the day.

So yes, every morning this little box on the counter starts spewing out the news of the day. This morning is typical. Mostly bad news. Disturbing, troubling stuff.

My coffee pot is percolating and I hear: The Mad King is Mad and Raging. (Of course, while the Mad King is certainly Mad, he isn't really a King, even if in his own pathetic, toxic brain-pan he thinks he has Kingly powers. He is a public servant. He is supposed to serve the people. That is his job.) Anyway, the Mad King is in full meltdown mode. Wonder what happens with that? Also fires are raging on the West Coast. Homes and towns completely burned down. Folks homeless, folks missing. Sad, tragic. The world is burning.

They are still counting votes in Florida. How come elections in America are so messy? Can't we make it easier for folks to vote? Why is one political party desperately trying to prevent folks from voting, and then once they do vote, prevent the counting of their votes? I suppose the question answers itself. Can't we just count the votes? Every. Last. Vote. And then, once they are all counted, the person with the most votes wins? Isn't that how Democracy is supposed to work?

Oh yeah, there's also more news of Cops killing unarmed folks. That's a thing. A terrible, unconscionable thing. How do we all live with it? Plus, a bonus story this morning, a prisoner was beaten to death by prison guards, they did it in an area of the prison, of course, where there were no cameras. The guards have been put on "paid administrative leave." What the Fuck?

The coffee is ready. Why do I turn this little box on anyway? A weird desire to know "what's happening." I decide it's time to put on some music... this morning it's The National's "The Boxer", first track, "Fake Empire," 

Stay out super late tonight picking apples, making pies

Put a little something in our lemonade and take it with us

We're half awake in a fake empire

We're half awake in a fake empire

Tiptoe through our shiny city with our diamond slippers on

Do our gay ballet on ice, bluebirds on our shoulders

We're half awake in a fake empire

We're half awake in a fake empire

Turn the light out say goodnight, no thinking for a little while

Let's not try to figure out everything at once

It's hard to keep track of you falling through the sky

We're half awake in a fake empire

We're half awake in a fake empire

Character Counts.

Character counts. You know character, in the sense of "the complex of mental and ethical traits marking and often individualizing a person, group, or nation."

Events test one's character. One's character is revealed in times of stress, trauma, and drama. What do we do when times are tough, when the chips are down, when everything goes to hell?

Do we keep our heads? Do we panic? Do we retreat? Do we lie and shift blame? Do we own up? Do we face the music? Do we face the truth, take it in, incorporate it, meet reality half-way, and try to work thru?

Hard times, pain & suffering, they are like corrosive substances that open us, cut us to the core, reveal our basic and true character. How is character made? Nurture, nature, DNA, luck & pluck? Who knows? Another mystery that we live with.

I Love the Latest Narrative!

Yes, "allying with a vicious bigot," might fire up the lunatic fringe, but it's good to see that that despicable strategy has backfired. Lots of new Democrats in the House! Blue Wave!

I love the latest narrative. The vicious bigots are licking their wounds, and, are now, out of work! And this was so predictable and frankly, quite enjoyable: "Trump has retreated into a cocoon of bitterness and resentment..."  

Oh, poor baby. The big blowhard bully is taking his lumps and he's stewing in his own vicious bigot juices!  Funny!

"Risk More."

"Risk more."

That was the advice I received last night from a person I respect, a person who no longer walks on the planet. Sleeping. In the dark. Those words floated over me, sort of hung over me like a little cloud. Not outrageous advice by any means. In some ways, it's obvious. Obvious advice. Which is probably the best kind. I woke up with a start. Still dark out. And it all tumbled out in front of me, in my head, every step, every move, everything was clear. I know what I need to do. Everything came to me complete in one perfect insight.  Of course, risk more...

Monday Morning Pep Talk!

"It's Monday morning. Let's keep those positive vibes from the weekend going. We have lots to do today, we have to do all the things that we have to do, and we have do every one of them well. Why? Because we are those kinds of people. We do everything we have to do, and we do everything well, at least as well as we can. Why? We care. We are the people who care about things. What do we care about? Pretty much everything. Which is kind of ridiculous, and bananas, and pretty much futile, and yes, it can get overwhelming, there are way too many things to care about, but we do, and it drives us crazy when we realize that not everyone cares the way we do. Lots of folks around us don't seem to give a damn about anything, except maybe their own greedy selfishness. More power to them, I guess, but that's not us. That is not our way. Our way is to care about shit! Even, and especially, all  the shit that we have no control over. We take that on every day. So let's buckle up, put our big-boy pants on, tie-up our boot-laces, put smiles on our faces, get out there, face the day, and do what we have to do!  Come on... let's go! Maybe it will be fun?!"

"Pick a Channel, Sink In, Let Go!"

"Yes, if I have a Religion, it is Art:  broadly defined as any "creative activity."  Minus the Ego. The Ego is subsumed into The Good Work. And what is Good Work? Pretty much any flow activity, any creative activity that you focus on, any activity that you delve into deeply at the exclusion of everything else. You do the work, with the intention of getting to a point of no return, where you are totally consumed by the moment of creating. You are beyond conscious thought, you are alive in the moment. You lose yourself, you "drop the Ego." The work becomes the thing, the whole thing. Complete. There are many avenues for this creative activity: music, poetry, dance, performance, painting, sculpture, whatever. These are just channels. Pick a channel, sink in, let go."

"Love, Baby, that's the Thing!"

"No. We are not amateurs. Although we do it for the love. The love of it. The love of it all: the prepping, the schlepping, the practicing, the fretting, the thinking, the bickering, the back and forth, the debates, the decisions, the big shows, the fuckups, the breakdowns, the moments of light and transcendence, the late nights, the early mornings, the constant, unrelenting talking about it all, the ecstasy, the frustration, the uncertainty, the brilliance, the fun, the total fucking kick of it all. The Madness. The crazy-ass dreams. The sorrow. The pain. The tired-ness. The knowledge that we can't hold anything in our arms. We can't freeze the moment in place. No. We are not amateurs, although it's all about love, the total love of it all, we are Pros. Poorly-paid Pros. Total fucking Pros. Love Baby, Love, that's the thing!"

Protesting with Dogs!

Yeah, no freak-out, (see previous post), but I did find myself at a park with members of Indivisable yesterday afternoon for the big rally against the firing of AG Jeff Sessions. Funny. I got there early, folks were just setting up, slowly starting to gather, and then I left early too. I'm not the best protester. Not sure I wanted to hang out with folks who know as much about the Mueller Investigation as I do.

Here's my real-time text exchange with my good friend while I was there:

Me: Just got to the park with Buster! Off the Pigs! Oops, wrong decade! Trump is Treason! That's good!

Friend: Good job you two!

Me: They are playing Dylan. Are we happy that that racist shit Sessions got shit-canned or pissed? I'm confused.

Friend: Ha!

Me: Bring that racist shit Sessions back! Come on Buster say it with me!

Friend: Bark, bark!

Me: Go Mueller?! Fuck Trump?! Pizzah Party?! A Free Lunch?! Levitate the Pentagon?!

Friend: Now you are in the Spirit!

Me: Somethings happening here, what it is ain't exactly clear... good thing I'm wearing my Shaman Hat!

Friend: You can make a thing out of it, Protesting with Dogs!

Me: Poop in a bag! Come on everybody! It's fun!

Me: It's scary, a park filling up with people who know way too much about the Mueller Investigation, just like me, I gotta split!

No Freak-Out!

I have decided not to freak out. Yes, we may be in the midst of a Constitutional Crisis. Our Democracy may have been hijacked by a Russian Stooge and Operative, but I have decided not to listen to that loud fat man screaming at the podium. He is an idiot and a fool. Yes, he occupies a pretty important and powerful office, but I do believe he will implode, and we will pick up the pieces and carry on. Don't know how long this will all take, but the end will not be pretty for that man. This country is bigger and better than that despicably pathetic, hate-filled man. Weird times, for sure, but no freak-out!

One Step Forward.

It's a big country. A messy place. Democracy is this big amorphous beast, not exactly a precision machine. Not everyone agrees. Lots of disagreements about big and little things. There are bad actors, and idealistic heroes. Lots of fights. Winners and losers.

There's big money, and little dreams, and there's racism, and class, and "haves" and "have nots." Lots of people vote. Lots don't. It's amazing anything gets done. Yesterday lots of Democrats won, lots of Republicans won. Depends on where you live. New Democratic Governors in Illinois, Wisconsin and Michigan.

Here in the Midwest, there definitely was a "deep-dive," Blue Wave. Not massive, but very decisive. Sad to see that didn't carry over all across the country. But lots of lousy Republicans were tossed out of office. That's sweet! Happy the Democrats took back control of the House of Representatives! A major step in the right direction. One step. One step at a time. Nothing comes easy. Everything is a battle here in America. But a bit brighter today. For sure.

A First Step in Taking Back Our Dream of America!

I live in the Bluest of the Blue districts in America. A town of big, looming, beautiful trees, with a long winding lakefront with man-made beaches, and a big Midwestern University facing a massive, sparkling lake. We are perched on the shore of Lake Michigan in Illinois. Every day the lake is alive. Some days it's like glass, other times it's like a roiling, beast. I walk over there every day. It's a grand open body of water. Thrilling, soothing, inspiring.

I live in a town of really progressive, engaged, intelligent, kind & considerate folks. We are also close to some trouble areas; streets of high-crime, gangs, drug trafficking. We have homeless folks and folks struggling with mental illness. Old and young are out on the streets. You can walk our neighborhood, you can get around without a car. There are quality grocery stores, liquor stores, coffeeshops, galleries nearby. I know lots of folks in my neighborhood. I can walk outside and be greeted by folks who either know me by name or by sight.

It's a friendly place to live. Many of us have been traumatized since the last election. There is a pain, a visceral feeling of betrayal. Something has gone gravely wrong. We all have high hopes today. Hoping for a massive Blue Wave. A first step in taking back our dream of America. Americans from all walks of life, Americans hoping to live in the America of our dreams, of our imaginations.

Inclusive, diverse, welcoming.

Some of us are hurting deeply; wounded, baffled, confounded, angry, scared, cynical, beaten, beat-up.  That loud, fat, clueless, pernicious, toxic clown in the White House has traumatized us all. We are "woke," we are engaged. We want to reclaim our vision of America.

We take the first step today. Like I said, hoping, praying, expecting... a Massive Blue Wave... Please vote today. Of course, vote Blue. Let's do this, please.

To the Brim!

We humans have some important tools, for instance, logic, reason & rationality (rationality is one of our favorite masks), but they are just tools, sort of like the nuts & bolts, the hammer & the nails of a life. They are important, essential, but not the whole thing. Too much logic, too much reason, too much rationality, too much dead-eyed, clear-seeing can often lead to a bleak, bleary-eyed existence.

How to fight the gloom?

In order to "make it," we need some other things in our kit-bags. Things like: Hope. Magic. Love. Coffee. Music. Art. Poetry. Dreams. Compassion. Fantasy. Empathy. Humor. The Good Work.

We have to fill ourselves up, every day. Fill ourselves to the brim.  Every single day.

The Whole Love.

Could you bottle that? 

I always talk about catching lightening in a bottle, catching that magic, somehow, capturing the un-capture-able in a live performance, whether it's theater, dance, poetry, music, etc. Somehow holding the moment of lift-off, transcendence, ecstasy, and then, once you have mysteriously, improbably, bottled it, every once in awhile you could uncap it and take a whiff? Get high on the fumes of the eternal.

Last night we played a little storefront place called Jarvis Square Pottery. It's a little treasure. First time we walked in we fell in love. And all the elements of the night came together. Our band whitewolfsonicprincess played a tight, powerful, rocking set, and the room just vibrated with positive vibes and energy. Sometimes the audience is just another member of the band. Band and audience are in conversation, a conversation of vibes, creating something else. What you are creating together is bigger than you can imagine, bigger than you can explain.

It was that kind of show. I can't imagine how it could have played out any better. Could you bottle that? Nope. You can't. You can only experience it. It's the whole thing. The whole love.

More Jesus...

Yeah, Jesus, (see previous post), why such a Gloomy Gus? I know he got in a little bit over his head, he had a bit of a Messianic Streak, but really was it all just pain, suffering, sweating blood, rabble-rousing, and ultimate sacrificing?

I like my Laughing, Fun-Loving, Progressive Democrat Jesus.

Funny, yesterday I was Googling things like: Who Got Mary Pregnant? - "OK, you play God and I will play the Goddess..."

"A hieros gamos ritual is a sexual ritual (not that uncommon a practice in the ancient world, and often practiced by royalty) that plays out a marriage between a “god” and “goddess”, usually while an important astrological configuration is occurring in the heavens above, where human participants represent the deities."

And Was Jesus Illiterate? - He didn't write anything down! Not even a grocery list!

Jesus - Progressive Democrat!

(Note: I first came across this image in the Sixties, illicitly paging thru my Father's Playboy Magazine. It kind of blew my mind. First time I ever saw Jesus laughing. It made me think that maybe the Nuns weren't giving me the full picture. I began to wonder if there was more to Jesus than the Catholic Church was telling me.)

Yesterday, I almost got into it with a young woman Trumper who is also a Jesus-loving Evangelical. Trump/Jesus. Yikes! Such an unlikely, freaking-un-holy-combo. I stopped myself, cut off the conversation, I thought it would be better to insert a rail-spike in my frontal lobe than to debate this woman. My last comment to her: "I will pray for you too!"

But this got me thinking. I'd like to reclaim Jesus. Not as my personal Savior, but as another Cool Guy (like Buddha, Gandhi, MLK, Lennon, Dylan, Nick Cave). Think about this "Demographic Profile:"

1. Child of Refugees (Poor, Homeless, Lives in Mangers)
2. Person of Color (Think Brown!)
3. A Rabble-Rousing, Long-haired, Rebel Jew (Problems with Authority!)
4. Mother Impregnated by a Being Not her Husband (The Angel Gabriel, The Holy Spirit, A Boy Named Sue?)
5. Step-Dad a Tradesman (Union or Non-Union Carpenter?)
6. Lives in a Commune with Other Men (Fishermen!)
7. Feeds the Poor ("Fishes and loaves for everyone!")
8. Enjoys a good party & a good wine ("Beaujolais for everyone!")
9. Hangs out with Prostitutes (Washes their feet!)
10. Performance Artist - (Cheap Tricks: Walks on Water, Raises the Dead, Turns Water into Wine!)
11. Hates Capitalism (Kicked the Money-Changers out of the Temple, preached that the "Love of money is the root of all Evil!)
12.  Great 1st Album ("Jesus Christ Superstar!")

If I were to make an educated guess, I'd say this Jesus guy was surely a Progressive Democrat with deep socialistic tendencies! That's my Jesus! Fun-loving Guy!

"That's Death."

I swear this really happened...

We went to sleep early last night, Halloween night. I woke up in the darkness, hours into a fitful sleep, got up for a drink of water, stumbled back to bed, looked out the window (Why? I never look out the window...), and noticed a large sort of imposing figure on the sidewalk across the street, sort of gliding down the sidewalk. A tall, shadowy figure, dressed all in black, I'd guess it was a male. I said to myself, under my breath: "That's Death." A shiver went down my spine. And then I crawled back into bed and fell into a deep sleep.