Lessons in Life - Lying is a Waste of Time!

One of those lessons you learn in life, I mean, that is, if you are the type of person who learns lessons in life - telling the truth, usually, is the more efficient and practical way to go. It's just simpler, and easier to keep your story straight. I mean, sure, you can lie, there are all the little lies and the big lies we tell; some lies you tell to yourself, and some you tell to the world, but more often than not, those lies have a sneaky way of coming back to haunt you.

If you are a frequent liar, you spend lots of your time trying to keep your lies straight, and this can get convoluted and confusing, and since some of the lies are tissue-thin, unsubstantial, made up on the spot, it's often difficult to be consistent, and to remember just exactly how, and to whom, you have lied. And you end up worrying about how to keep the lies going, and they multiply, and sometimes, collide with each other. You build an edifice of lies, each one, another brick in the wall, but that wall is not a solid construction. It is easily demolished, sometimes as easy as exposing the first or simplest and most unassuming lie of the bunch.

It is much simpler to stick with the truth, at least the truth as you understand it. It's better for your conscience, I mean, that is, if you have a conscience. A clean conscience. Might be one of those things good to have if you value sleeping soundly.

Of course, all of this is easier to see play out in other people's lives. You can see the lies, the liars and how they often end up squirming like a worm on a fish-hook, or turning themselves into pretzels trying to make all their calculated lies look like plain truths. Reconciling the lies is not an easy to do, even for the smartest, and least conscientious of us.

When you see the clearly corrupt, ignorant, morally and ethically challenged folks amongst us, those who are carrying a huge mountain of lies on their shoulders, suddenly trying to extricate themselves from the consequences of their consistent lying, by coming up with a better brand of lie, trying to unsuccessfully change the story in mid-stream, it's actually quite entertaining, and instructive. You think to yourself: "Better them, than me!"

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.

Light & Shadow!

Candle [512-1] by Gerhard Richter

I found this Ursula K. Le Guin quote in Liam Heneghan's book, "Beasts at Bedtime,"  a handy source for insight & wisdom.

The quote has been resonating with me for the last few days...

“When you light a candle, you also cast a shadow.”

― Ursula K. Le Guin

Yes. Light and shadow. Think balance: ecological, physical, psychological, spiritual. Equilibrium. Yin/Yang. The inability to do only one thing. Every action has a reaction. Everything we do has consequences; the intended, and the unintended. The complexity of our human condition.

Tolerating the Intolerant, it's Intolerable...

A good friend of mine posted this quote from "philosopher of Science," Karl Popper:

"Unlimited tolerance must lead to the disappearance of tolerance. If we extend unlimited tolerance even to those who are intolerant, if we are not prepared to defend a tolerant society against the onslaught of the intolerant, then the tolerant will be destroyed, and tolerance with them." --Karl Popper

I commented that it was a conundrum: "an intricate and difficult problem." This concept of tolerance: "sympathy or indulgence for beliefs or practices differing from or conflicting with one's own."

We have been taught that tolerance is a social good, that we should be sensitive to beliefs or practices of others, even if, and when, those beliefs and practices differ or conflict with our own.

But there are limits, right? Unlimited tolerance can destroy the foundations of a civil society. This social good can lead to deep social bad! Lately, we are seeing folks hype the hate, and that hyping leads to murder, domestic terrorism, fueled by deeply irrational and destructive anti-semitism, racism, anti-immigrant hysteria.

Of course, there are norms, there are laws. But when we start getting to specifics, things get a bit complicated. When does your tolerance lead to intolerable actions? When does your freedom to think and to speak, lead to the unthinkable, the unspeakable?

It all works better on a personal level. I don't tolerate racism, anti-semitism, anti-immigrant views in my personal life. If you are a racist, if you are an anti-semite, or an anti-immigrant, you are not a friend of mine. I have no problem cutting off these people in my life. I don't need friends like that, I don't need to hear from them, or hang with them. Life is too short to spend time with assholes.

But then, in the larger world, in our society, in our country, who decides what is tolerable and what is not? What views, what words, what thoughts are just not acceptable? Quoting a line from a Woody Allen movie: "If you become too different, you become a subversive Mother." When is it acceptable, when is it necessary to be a "subversive Mother," when is it not?

I guess I'd say we should not tolerate the intolerant, we must be become intolerant of the intolerant, anyone who intentionally will hurt another human being. That is just not acceptable in any way, shape or form. We are all human beings first. In that way, we are all the same.

Massive Blue Wave Next Tuesday! Please!

My friend and I voted early this weekend. It felt good. We are in the bluest of blue districts in America.  Two votes for Democrats up and down the ticket. Two tiny drops, almost infinitesimal. Seems like such a little thing. But it felt good. It felt necessary, it felt essential. The essence of democracy. I highly recommend it.

Here's hoping for a massive Blue Wave next Tuesday...

The Main Event.

I first wrote about my "Shaman Experience," here. That was the practice session. Last night was the main event, it was called "The Wild Hunt." It was performed in a church basement. A plain, friendly room. Filled with Shamans from many places, Illinois, Missouri, Virginia.

There was a cairn in the middle of the floor, a cairn built with trinkets, amulets, talismans, written prayers, various odd & ends, rocks and bones.

I was one of the musicians, there were four of us, I was a drummer, but because of my long experience meditating and conjuring images in my mind, I felt sort of like a bridge between the musicians and the Shamans. There were at least 25 Shamans. The room vibrated with expectancy and intelligence. It was extraordinary just to be in a room with these folks.

Once the hunt began I drummed and visioned. It was intense, indelible, powerful, unexplainable. I easily fell into a trance state. Yes, I went on a little journey, propelled by the drumming, everyone in the room was either drumming or shaking shakers, or spinning, or moving in some ritualistic way. We were all propelled by the music - drums, double-bass, ethereal washes of electric guitar.

Did everything go the way it was supposed to go? I suppose so. I can only speak for myself, I went deep inside, my whole body seemed to vibrate, every nerve in my body seemed to be re-lit with life and energy. I conjured up some striking, improbable, indelible images in my mind. That was pretty amazing, satisfying and intriguing.

Words Have Consequences.

Words have consequences...

Ask a poet. Or a Magus. Those folks who pray, who chant, who cast spells. If you paint the air with Hate, Hate will materialize. If you paint the air with Love, Love will materialize. I know it's sounds like Magic. It is.

Words. They are a conjuring. A prophecy. A spell. I believe in the power of words. We should all choose our words, speak our words, carefully. Always. They carry meaning, the have gravity, they create and convey energy.

"You will know what it is to have been wild, and you will know what it is to have been free." - Liam Heneghan

I am reading Liam Heneghan's extraordinary and brilliant book, "Beasts at Bedtime: Revealing the Environmental Wisdom in Children's Literature." The title is evocative, but doesn't really capture this multi-hued, multi-layered, multi-headed, many-feathered, multi-clawed & fanged, mind-expanding, beast of a book. Captivating. Enthralling.

I am only on page 128, and I am sure I will have more to say about it when I finish reading it, but so far, every page is illuminated by a charismatic, enchanting intelligence; suffused with humor & wisdom. I would have never guessed how much I would love spending time buried in this book.

Yes, children's lit, fairy tales, myths, bed-time stories, anthropological insights, philosophical star-bursts, a bit of magic and conjuring in these pages. It puts me in mind of Joseph Campbell's "The Hero with a Thousand Faces," no, not it's subject matter, just in the unexpected brilliance, the way connections and leaps are made to include everything it means to be Human. It's the kind of book that makes you think you are smarter, just by reading; every page illuminates. Reading it deepens your spirit, your heart, your head.

Anyway, I just came across this passage on page 118, the chapter about Maurice Sendak's "Where the Wild Things Are," a chapter entitled: "Where the Wild Things Always Were." This paragraph literally took my breath away in it's beauty, sadness, breadth and scope. I leave it here for you dear reader...

"Yes, you, too, must leave the fireside, as humans have always done; you too must make your way in the world like the Puss in Boots that you are; you must overcome obstacles, encounter fresh wonders, fail, pick yourself up, and maybe even fall again. But you will be rewarded by the beauty of the world as you encounter it, by the love you find along your way, and, yes, by the baubles of success, fleeting though those trinkets may be. Though nature will claim you in the end, and your atoms will be scattered beneath the soil and into the winds, if you've attended well to life's necessary tasks, you will know what it is to have been wild, and you will know what it is to have been free, if only for a few moments." - Liam Heneghan - "Beasts at Bedtime"

The Calculus of Hatred.

Yes, Hyping the Hate, has it's consequences. Some crazy person/domestic terrorist is sending pipe bombs in the mail to the press and to prominent Democrats? Horrifying, but not totally surprising. There are folks who have been stoking the fires, trying hard to divide us, hyping the hate every day. I can think of one person who has been hyping the hate one tweet, one press conference, one campaign rally at a time. Words do have consequences. Speak hatred and hatred becomes a real, tangible thing. There is an inevitability in this calculus of hatred.

"Some folks are born, silver spoon in hand..." - J. Fogarty

I found this little video quite thrilling and energizing. Kind of embodies a bit of the enthusiasm, the commitment and the vision for Democrats running for office across the land. VOTE.

It's important...

Excellent song too...

"Fortunate Son"

Some folks are born made to wave the flag

Ooh, they're red, white and blue

And when the band plays "Hail to the chief"

Ooh, they point the cannon at you, Lord

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no senator's son, son

It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no

Some folks are born silver spoon in hand

Lord, don't they help themselves, oh

But when the taxman comes to the door

Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale, yes

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no millionaire's son, no

It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, no

Yeah!

Some folks inherit star spangled eyes

Ooh, they send you down to war, Lord

And when you ask them, "How much should we give?"

Ooh, they only answer More! more! more! Yo

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no military son, son

It ain't me, it ain't me; I ain't no fortunate one, one

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate one, no no no

It ain't me, it ain't me, I ain't no fortunate son, no no no

Hyping the Hate!

We have to tune out the noise. Listening to music helps. Lately, I've been listening to lots of instrumental music. No lyrics. No words. Or if there are lyrics and/or words they are in a language I don't understand. Give my brain cells a bit of space and breathing room.

We are hurtling to the midterm elections and the noise level is just getting unbearable. Especially from the "political opposition." Yes, it's really the GOP, the Trump lick-spittles & boot-lickers that are getting hysterical, trying to whip us up by playing on racism, and any other irrational fears they can conjure up. They want to hype the hate, flood us with lies, disinformation, propaganda. Confuse and inflame their followers.

It works. Right? Emotion. It overrides intelligence.

At some point you can't engage folks riled up by unjustified, irrational fear. You have to tune those crazies out. And just go vote! It doesn't seem like enough, right?! Voting. Seems sort of like a paltry, mundane thing to do, but in our Democracy (remember, it's still a Democracy, at least in theory), voting is key, essential, the one sure way the folk can have their voices heard. Like I said, "at least in theory." Let's test the theory.  Things look grim and a bit crazy, and the loud fat man in the White House is just playing on all of our worst instincts. We can tune that ridiculous, toxic, noise out. And be smart, sensible, rational. Come on folks! We can do it!

We Need Better Lies, Better Liars!

I suppose if the people in positions of authority, in all walks of life, are going to lie to us, we should at least ask them to do a better job of lying. Lately the lies are so bald-faced, so lame, so tissue-thin, so implausible, so transparent, so insulting to our collective intelligence, that it makes one think that the people in authority no longer have any respect for the rest of us. Could it be they just don't care, and they are just rubbing our faces in it? They know, that we know, that they know, that they are lying. And they are almost daring us to do something about it. Sheesh. Come on you bald-faced liars. It's impossible to take your lies seriously. Do better?! Are you daring us to "storm the Bastille?" To vote you suckers out? To turn the tables? To knock the game board to the ground? To tilt the pinball machine? What's up, Liars?!

The Official Lies, Paper-Thin, Unbelievable.

I didn't expect the leadership of my country to support murderers. I didn't expect them to help in the coverup of a murder of a journalist. I didn't expect them to be more worried about arms sales and "business as usual," than the extinguishing of a journalist's life, (Although now that I think about it, it was almost predictable and inevitable wasn't it?), I didn't expect them to go out of their way to further blatant, easily disproven lies.

The raw brutality. It's hard to digest. The official lies, paper-thin, unbelievable. We are asked to believe the unbelievable and just move on. It is hard to do. Doesn't feel right. Doesn't seem like the kind of country I imagined I lived in. I guess I am in for a re-think. We need to be hopeful, idealistic, but pragmatic too.  This is just mind-boggling... disappointing, maddening...

From Vanity Fair... 

Kushner, Mr. Trump’s son-in-law and Middle East adviser, has been urging the president to stand by Prince Mohammed, according to a person close to the White House and a former official with knowledge of the discussions.

Mr. Kushner has argued that the outrage over Mr. Khashoggi’s disappearance and possible killing will pass, just as it did after other Saudi errors like the kidnapping of the prime minister of Lebanon and the killing of a busload of children in Yemen by a Saudi airstrike.

Chocolate Cake.

It wasn't mine. It was sitting on the counter. A half of a chocolate cake. Sitting in it's container, looking fresh, delicious, luxurious, a dark chocolate ganache, mini sheet cake. The label said: "moist, flavorful cake with a smooth ganache cream cheese frosting." Really? Decadent. I kept looking at that cake. It really, really looked good.

Of course, I "watch what I eat." I don't just sit down and wolf down a half of a chocolate cake. Dead Souls are calling me (see previous post), and that chocolate cake was calling me too.

"Maybe have just a little slice?"

I have incredible will-power, I really do. Until it crumbles, and then when it crumbles no will-power at all. That's kind of the addict's way, right?!

Oh man. I grabbed a knife and fork. Delicately, precisely cut out a little slice and devoured that in an instant. Pure pleasure. Right? Can't describe how perfectly that went down. Tantalizing my tastebuds, flooding my body with sweetness and goodness.

Oh hell. I cut another slice, and another, and another.  Devoured the whole thing. That whole half a cake disappeared. It was satisfying. The container fully empty. A void. Void of cake.

That's how you do it. You eat that chocolate cake. Yes, you do. Damn the torpedos.

Dead Souls - They Keep Calling Me.

The longer you live the more you are surrounded by the dead. You are alive in the midst of Dead Souls. Maybe that is really what it means to be older. You know and think about people who are dead. Some long dead. Some newly dead. The dead accumulate every day. I guess it seems a bit morbid, but on the other hand it's just the truth. You lose so many people along the way. Some you know personally, some you know from afar.

You read their books. You listen to their records. You remember their exploits. You imagine conversations with them. You have dreams where you converse with them. You are influenced by their lives, their thoughts and philosophies. The Land of the Dead is a real place, it's a land that we can visit at any time, and we do it all the time.

You don't want to become one of those human beings who only look and listen to the dead. You want to live with the living, but you can't help also living with the dead. That just the truth.

Joy Division – Dead Souls 

Someone take these dreams away,

That point me to another day,

A duel of personalities,

That stretch all true realities.

That keep calling me,

They keep calling me,

Keep on calling me,

They keep calling me.

Where figures from the past stand tall,

And mocking voices ring the halls.

Imperialistic house of prayer,

Conquistadors who took their share.

That keep calling me,

They keep calling me,

Keep on calling me,

They keep calling me.

Calling me, calling me, calling me, calling me.

They keep calling me,

Keep on calling me,

They keep calling me,

They keep calling me.

Songwriters: BERNARD SUMNER, IAN KEVIN CURTIS, 

PETER HOOK, STEPHEN PAUL DAVID MORRIS

"... the Tension Between the Angel and the Beast..." - Wayne Kramer

I just finished reading Wayne Kramer's book "The Hard Stuff." Words to describe it? Harrowing. Unflinching. Brutal. Confounding. Frustrating. Honest. It's a conjuring and a cleansing. Wayne was one of the founders of the MC5, a seminal r&r band, a politically-conscious band, a powerful r&r outfit that came to life in one of the most politically contentious times in contemporary America. Yes, they were the only band that actually played a set at the Democratic convention in 1968 Chicago. Before the police riot in Grant Park.

The Guardian describes Kramer as a "self-saboteur." That's good. Kind of captures much of the tone and explains the long cascade of missteps in his r&r life. How does a young guitar-slinger end up working full-time as a drug addict, a small-time criminal and a long-time prisoner? It's another r&r saga where a talented musician basically surrenders his life to substance abuse and deep addiction. A talented, intelligent, idealistic human being renders himself a total slave to drugs. Not much of a revolution or utopia.

Seems that credo: sex, drugs & rock and roll is a great rallying cry, but not a very good way to live an ordered, fulfilling life. The book is a record, a chronicle of a life as a series of train-wrecks; a sustained, out of control, wreck of a life. If you were looking for further proof that drugs can derail your life, well, be sure to check out Wayne's compelling testimony. Somehow, inexplicably, after decades, Kramer emerges on the other side, and decides to atone. And yes, he finds a new ethic, a road of redemption, a life of clear-eyed sobriety, a determination to live a principled life. I guess, you can say it's never too late. Wayne survives to tell the tale. That's the payoff.

No sense trying to review the book, it's a vivid story of a life, really. It's worth reading. Worth experiencing. It's the life-story of a fiercely intelligent and complicated human being.

"I still live in the tension between the angel and the beast, that is my lot as human. This struggle will continue until the day I depart. Mine has been a painful and beautiful experience, and I wouldn't change any of it, even if I could." - Wayne Kramer

The Ones Who Get in the Way!

Not feeling the love from the 1%. You know, those folks at the top of the pyramid. Those who run things all around the world. The rich getting richer. Every day. Money loves money and money + money = money.

The rest of us look up at the top of the pyramid, some of us hope to be up there too, some of us hope those at the top will show a bit of kindness and mercy for the rest of us. But really, that seems foolish.

Yes, the 99% greatly out-number the 1%. You'd think that would be in our favor. If we all got together and decided to slice the economic pie in a more progressive and fairer manner, a little creative re-distribution, we could make sure that all of us could share in the bounty and the beauty of life, that we could all live better and more productive lives.

You wonder why some of us live in pain and squalor. Why do vast swaths of the world's population live in bleak and utter poverty? And why do the 1% just look for tax havens and more elaborate tax-avoiding schemes to park and hide their money?

Sure seems like a rigged game. The 1% buy their politicians, their armies, their police forces. They buy their way into the rule-making game. They make the rules for the rest of us. Surprisingly the rules always favor that 1%.

Money sticks with money. That's the way of the world. And no one wants to share their money or power. Really. We count on the kindness and intelligence of the 1%, we look up to them, hands extended, but really we are the invisible 99%. The ones who get in the way.

Paging Through the Newspaper.

Paging through the newspaper is a bit better than surfing the web. The stories are a bit more coherent, there's a beginning, middle and end. Easier to digest. At least the form of it. Not so much the content. The content is disturbing, troubling, confounding, maddening.

Do you love life? Do you love your life? Do you love humanity? Do you love mankind? Do you love?

Paging through the newspaper it's hard to find love. Instead the pages are filled with all the maladies of life. Is it better to tune in? To tune out? To embrace, or to reject the world? What's better for your head, your soul? Your conscience? How to live with all this chaos, this madness, this uncertainty, this collective pain and suffering?

Big questions. Maybe too big. It seems freedom is under attack. Facts too. Honesty too. There are so many competing forces, competing narratives, collisions all across the newspaper. How does anything work? How do we make it? Where the hell is this all going?

You think of yourself as on the side of enlightenment and light, but often you are confused and stumbling in the dark.

Broken!

I have a friend who tells me no matter what happens, there is always a Gilmore Girls episode that was there first. Everything goes thru Gilmore Girls. I don't know if it's true. Never saw the show.

For me, there is always a Dylan song for everything... all history is reflected and highlighted, referenced and illuminated in a Dylan song. His song book is one of our great human resources. Dylan has written a lot of songs...

Everything Is Broken

WRITTEN BY: BOB DYLAN

Broken lines, broken strings

Broken threads, broken springs

Broken idols, broken heads

People sleeping in broken beds

Ain’t no use jiving

Ain’t no use joking

Everything is broken

Broken bottles, broken plates 

Broken switches, broken gates

Broken dishes, broken parts

Streets are filled with broken hearts

Broken words never meant to be spoken

Everything is broken 

Seem like every time you stop and turn around

Something else just hit the ground 

Broken cutters, broken saws

Broken buckles, broken laws

Broken bodies, broken bones

Broken voices on broken phones

Take a deep breath, feel like you’re chokin'

Everything is broken 

Every time you leave and go off someplace

Things fall to pieces in my face 

Broken hands on broken ploughs

Broken treaties, broken vows

Broken pipes, broken tools

People bending broken rules

Hound dog howling, bullfrog croaking

Everything is broken

Copyright © 1989 by Special Rider Music

I Turn to Tom Joad.

I turn to Tom Joad in John Steinbeck's  & John Ford's "Grapes of Wrath" this morning...

Tom: Then it don’t matter. I’ll be all around in the dark – I’ll be everywhere. Wherever you can look – wherever there’s a fight, so hungry people can eat, I’ll be there. Wherever there’s a cop beatin’ up a guy, I’ll be there. I’ll be in the way guys yell when they’re mad. I’ll be in the way kids laugh when they’re hungry and they know supper’s ready, and when the people are eatin’ the stuff they raise and livin’ in the houses they build – I’ll be there, too.

Ma: I don’t understand it, Tom.

Tom: Me, neither, Ma, but – just somethin’ I been thinkin’ about.

Missing Washington Post Journalist

I do think this is a big story with huge implications and coming consequences... we shall see...

"Will you work for a murderer?"

Come for the Music, Stay for the Owls!

Our band whitewolfsonicprincess is running an Indiegogo crowd-funding campaign to help finish and promote our next release: The Alternate Boot Vols. 1&2.  We made a new music video to help promote the campaign and the album. Check it out. We need all the help, and support we can get! You can really make a difference with your $.

The video features our new song "Brown Eyes," and some live performance footage intercut with some cool imagery. Owls. Some really cool owls. We posted it on YouTube and Vimeo. Be sure to check it out. Come for the music, stay for the owls!

Not a Presidency, A Very Public Nervous Breakdown!

"A nervous breakdown." - Bob Woodward

That does explain it right? It's not really a Presidency. It's a long, drawn-out, 24/7 totally televised nervous breakdown.

Read Olivia Nuzzi's interview with Woodward and also her: "My Private Oval Office Press Conference with Donald Trump, Mike Pence, John Kelly, and Mike Pompeo."

What a freak-show. A country and an administration held hostage by a very unintelligent man in the midst of a very public nervous breakdown. And the people around him are helpless, complicit.

It's pretty ridiculous. Horrifying too. Of course.

Blood. On. Our. Hands.

A chilling headline: U.S. Knew of Saudi Plan to Seize Missing Journalist...

"U.S. intelligence services intercepted communications of Saudi officials discussing a plan to capture Saudi journalist and government critic Jamal Khashoggi, whose disappearance in Turkey last week threatens to damage the warm ties between the kingdom and Washington."

Journalists are being murdered all around the world. That is scary, anti-democratic, inhumane. That is the world we live in. We all should be horrified. The killing of journalists is an attack on truth, transparency, democracy, freedom. There are powerful people who are afraid of the truth, and they are willing to take extreme, unthinkable measures. This is unacceptable.

If it's true that the U.S. authorities knew that this Saudi Arabian Journalist was a marked man, and did nothing, our government too has blood on it's hands.  They say, "it can't happen here," how long before U.S. journalists are targeted? Who will stand up for them? This is Not Fake News, it is all too real.

"People have the Power." - Patti Smith

I have always voted since I could vote. I figured, since I'm always popping off about political things, I better vote, otherwise, I should probably shut up, so that voting thing is quite powerful, suddenly, I have lots of things to say about politics, and I have no problem speaking up about them.

I have always voted for the Democrat. Never voted for a Republican or an Independent. I have voted for a few slime-balls, probably the worst person I ever voted for was Rob Blagojevich who was Governor of Illinois, but who ended up going to jail for trying to sell an Illinois Senate seat. A corrupt slime-ball, with no ethics or smarts and a really bad, improbable hairdo. Sort of reminds me of another prominent political figure.

Anyway, I am on the Democrat/Progressive/Liberal team. Always have been. I do wonder about some of my fellow Progressives. They are an excitable lot. Lots of Chicken Littles on my side of the political divide. Lately they are almost hysterical, screaming that the sky is falling, fretting about pretty much everything. I know, I do lots of fretting too. We all have good reason to fret, but I don't know if publicly fretting is really all that helpful.

I say, take a deep breath. Don't worry. Don't fret. Don't just rage. Use that energy. Organize. Vote. March. Do something constructive. I am sorry, I have to quote the Coach, the great Vince Lombardi (I fear he was a Republican, but if he was, it was in an era when Republicans weren't as heinous, craven, and corrupt as they are today), "When the going gets tough, the tough get going."

We need to buck up people. The Supreme Court isn't gonna save our asses. Don't look to those robed figures to be the shining, progressive champions. And don't look to the House, or the Senate, or the President. The politicians are always last to jump on the bandwagon. It's us. The people. We the people who need to show the way.

It has always been "the folk" who lead the way. They do the marching. They do the protesting. They stand up to be counted. They demand equity and justice. They are the ones who will vote the bastards out. We can do it. We have done it. We always do it. There is power in a united and determined "We." It has always been us. Those who refuse to give up their seat on the bus because of their color, or those who marched with MLK in Bridgeport dodging bricks, or those marching to Washington D.C. to demand Civil Rights for all, or for Gay Rights, Women's Rights, Human Rights. Those who marched against the Vietnam War, and the Iraq war and those who shut down Lake Shore Drive in protest.

Equality, Justice, Freedom, Fraternity.

People have the power. Bad shit is going down, bad shit is always going down, but the sky isn't falling. We can fight the backward-lookers, the forces of reaction. We can handle this stuff. We really, really can. We must stay positive, we must not sink into a lethargic cynicism, we must not panic, we must not sit and whine.  We have to be tough. Tough-minded. If we all pull together, pull forward, we can make it a better world, day by day. We can do it progressively, inclusively, with a full, complete, compassionate humanity! As my Barack Obama used to say, "Yes, We Can!"

Not Quite Supreme!

In light of recent events, I think we need to rename the court.

How about...

The Not-Quite So Supreme Court.

The Not Even Close to Supreme Court.

The Are You Kidding Me Court.

The Majority Right-Wing Ayatollah Court.

The Frat Boy in Robes Plus RGB Court.
The WTF Not My Country Court.

Sometimes Not Knowing is the Best Knowing!

My first attempt at a post on my Shaman experience this morning was a lost cause. Computer problems interfered. Written on the wind. I am not going to try to recreate it. It was probably brilliant and insightful, but it is lost, gone, vanished down the rabbit hole.

So let me just cut to the chase...

I had a deep, and powerful Shamanistic experience yesterday afternoon. It was unexpected, totally suprising and unforeseen. I said "Yes" to something, and it led to something else. I sat intently beating a drum while 7 Shamans and 4 extraordinary musicians created this amazing vibration. I was totally transported, transformed. Believe it.

I forgot how much I love drumming. I don't do it often. It has been many years since I sat in a circle with other human beings, beating on a drum. And I forgot how quickly I can let everything go to the beat of a drum. Almost instant trance. We settled on the Shaman Rythmn, about 120 beats per minute. And this rag-tag collection of Shamans did their thing. Not exactly sure what they do, they conjure other realms and make connections, friends, and neutralize enemies.

 It's hard to explain exactly what was going on in that room. It's hard to explain the energy that encircled, and transformed that room. I can't really convey what the experience did to me either.

My head, my heart, my body vibrated, and... well... everything changed, in an instant. An incredible peace and calmness overcame me. And an expansive connection to unseen things. That's pretty incredible. The most strange, unique and powerful events can just come out of nowhere and lead you somewhere new. It's sometimes the common, easy, and natural things that have the most profound effects. Amazing. Sometimes it really pays to say "Yes," even if you have no clue where that "yes" will lead you. Maybe especially because you don't know where it will lead. Sometimes not knowing is the best knowing.

Everything is Tainted!

A good friend of mine: "I hate it. Everything is tainted!"

Me: "Yeah."

taint verb

\ ˈtānt \

tainted; tainting; taints

Definition of taint 

transitive verb

1: to contaminate morally : CORRUPT scholarship tainted by envy

2: to affect with putrefaction : SPOIL

3: to touch or affect slightly with something badpersons tainted with prejudice

People Just Don't See Eye to Eye.

I wonder what's gonna happen? 

Maybe that's the best response to the latest craziness. I feel like I'm watching a car crash in slow motion. I can see there is going to be a terrible crash. There will be injuries. People will be dazed, hurt and angry. People will dispute what actually happened. It will all depend on which side of the street you are on. Who saw what, when? Something happened. What happened? People will decide to see what they want to see. Everyone lines up on one side of the street or the other. We yell, and point, and make shit up to justify our own opinions. We wallop each other with our opinions. It's kind of ugly. Counter-productive. But maybe it's inevitable. People just don't see eye to eye. While I type these words, Amy Winehouse is on my music player, asking, "What kind of puffery is this?" Yes. Indeed. What kind of puffery?

I'm Sure He Will Be Measured, Honest, Fair - NOT!

Well, he admitted he "likes beer." It sounds like he was sort of an aggressive, mean drunk in High School and College. He definitely hung out with a hard drinking crowd. Toga! Is that disqualifying? Depends. I hope he doesn't drink Bud.

He cried and ranted in his speech to the Senate. Is that disqualifying? Pretty impressive. Crying.

He yelled at the Democrats and accused them of conspiring against him. Is that disqualifying? Sounds like just about every Republican we know. They think those mean old Liberals are always plotting and conspiring at every turn. Those Liberals want everyone to have Gay Sex, and to have Abortions (I know, those two things don't go together), be Multi-Cultural, and Believe Science, and Facts, and actually celebrate our melting-pot experiment. Oh yeah, Hilary! She's totally diabolical!

He wants a life-time appointment on the Supreme Court so he can show those Liberals what's what. Yeah, karma is a bitch.

He promises he can be fair and independent, and honest. Really?! I don't think so!

"Disgusting, Vile & Soul-less!"

A loud, fat man stands in front of a boisterous, rabid crowd and mocks a woman who has accused a Judge of sexual assault.

The woman's lawyer responds to the fat man's performance & comments like so: "Disgusting, Vile & Soul-less!"

That is the Trifecta for sure. Seems pretty accurate. Disgusting. Vile. Soul-less.

Who could that loud, fat man possibly be? We all know him. Too many words have been devoted to him. Too many eyeballs have watched him. Too many brain cells have been wasted thinking about him.

Disgusting. Vile. Soul-less. That should be that man's epitaph. It should be tattooed on his fat ass.

Strangling Up Our Minds.

"Now the rainman gave me two cures

Then he said, “Jump right in”

The one was Texas medicine

The other was just railroad gin

An’ like a fool I mixed them

An’ it strangled up my mind

An’ now people just get uglier

An’ I have no sense of time"

B. Dylan

Yeah, strangling up our minds, has been a human thing since the dawn of consciousness. Some folks even think that consciousness itself came about when our ancestors started experimenting with psychedelic mushrooms.

And consciousness itself is a double-edged sword. We are alive and conscious to the world, and at the same time we are alive and conscious to the suffering, the pain, and reality of our own mortality. It's kind of a heavy bargain.

So as species we have always looked for ways to alter our consciousness. We ingest all kinds of substances to change our chemistry, to mess up our heads. Some of us like to dull things, some to sharpen, some of us are trying to slow down, mellow out, some of us are hyping ourselves, goosing the system.

There are those drugs that tend to mask and shut us down, there are those substances that open our heads, that expand our consciousness. Alcohol (see previous post), is one our favorite poisons, but there is a long list of substances we are happy to indulge in.

If you go thru the list, you will be lucky to avoid the wreckage, the carnage, the deep, and difficult addictions that await. In a post-substance world, in recovery, in that 12 step utopia, you hopefully awake to a cold and bracing reality, alive in the moment, in the glow of clarity. Think: meditation or prayer, or chanting.  It's a different strategy, an alternative road, almost like hypnosis. Yes, you can change your consciousness by delving deep into it and noticing what you find in the deep, calm center. It can be done.

Clarity is King!

You know, there is that whole "stupid drunk culture." It usually involves lots of alcohol, and watching sporting events. Go to any college town. Go to any big or small city. There are the endless meccas to excess drinking. Go to any neighborhood bar, or favorite upscale watering hole, or to any VFW or American Legion post in Anywhere Town USA. Oh yeah, go to Las Vegas. Drinking to excess there is a goddamned religion.

Blackouts. Vomiting. Acting aggressively. Doing stupid shit. That is all part of the alcohol culture. It is everywhere. It is in the air we breathe. Remember all those stupid comedies about drinking, and drunk people? Remember how we laughed when John Belushi crushed beer cans on his forehead? Remember when we were in awe and amazement when famous and not so famous people overindulged in public? Not drinking to excess is going against the stream of the culture. Not drinking at all, being a tea-totaler, being totally sober? That is a major radical divergence from the broader culture.

Drinking alcohol has been sold to us as a "social thing." How one relaxes, how one unwinds, how one "gets to know someone better." Hey Buddy, have another drink, loosen your collar, right? That message is everywhere, comes from every direction.

I have been on both sides of this cultural divide. As a young lad, I was deeply influenced by those two-fisted, hard-drinking writers, think heavyweights like Faulkner & Hemingway, but also, and, especially, Jack Kerouac, Hunter S. Thompson and Charles Bukowski. I kind of fell for the "romance" of the hard-drinking, balls to wall, over the top, gonzo writer. Of course, it was total b.s. Not romantic at all. Bad for your liver, bad for your head, bad for your soul. Not an aid in writing in the least. A certain bleary-eyed, dead-end. Serious hang-overs, broken relationships, nervous breakdowns. An endless stream of broken things and bad news.

Demon Alcohol, the great destroyer.

It's all so much clearer on the sober side of the divide, and once you are on that side, Clarity is King. Drinking to excess just seems like the most pointless, destructive, corrosive and addictive activity imaginable. A soul-killer. The deadliest of poisons. And it is insidious, because it is so accepted and acceptable in our broader culture. To choose not to drink marks you as someone outside the herd. How many lives have been ruined by Demon Alcohol? How many broken men and women? Generations. Uncountable generations.