Tag Archive | theosophy

Deer Jesus Epistle: Thanksgiving Day

I thought it might be nice to write something for this week, and I tried – I really did – but Facebook locked up on me before I could finish it, trashing the whole bloody clipboard and all of my material just disappeared.  So unless you are Michael Nesmith and have some special deal worked out with Zuckerberg, I would compose any weighty tomes offline and then upload.  Kind of a, “no red wine with fish,” rule for frequent Facebookers.

Speaking of which, there will be no “loaves and fishes” type miracles between now and December 21.  I and the Staff went over this detail fairly early on in the planning process and we decided, based on what happened the first time, there would be no point to it.  So, yes, there was a loaf of bread and three fishes and we fed a crowd of about 2,000.  That part was true.  The problem was that there was a crowd of 6,000 starving Palestinians who had given up the previous night’s meal because they heard what we were going to do and got all excited and fasted.  That’s what people do in the Middle East when they get excited – they fast.  So, contrary to Catholic reports of this being a “successful” miracle, it actually pissed off about two-thirds of everybody who showed up.  Fasting makes people so cranky.

So my Staff said, “never again.”  And with all the kids and baby carriages nowadays, people are going to steal – and you know they will – so it doesn’t matter if you prepare a proper miracle, it’s just never going to be enough.  People are hungry.  Starving.  They think it’s for booze, or food, or sex, or drugs, but none of that is true.  Anyone who’s ever come off a long bender, lost a lot of weight, ended a polyamorous relationship with two or more bisexual nymphomaniacs, or fried on mushrooms in a crowded college dorm at night after rolling in a field of sticky weeds — they will tell you, “life is very hard to adjust to without adding challenges.”  As a person who knows a lot of people who at one time drank, drugged, ate and screwed their way into what they thought was heaven, I can tell you to save your money, keep your empty baby carriages at home, the whole event will be seen on cable.  Yes, we’re talking to HBO.  Unless Roy Jones, Jr. tries to make another comeback the night of the 21st, the End of the World, Part One, is coming.  The people at HBO warned me that the Jones fight could happen, so my Staff is working with Roy’s publicists to make sure it doesn’t – probably going to cost me a couple weddings or a half dozen annulments, but don’t worry.  We are going to make December 21st, 2012, happen for a lot of people.  Not everybody wants to leave home in December anyway – it’s too damn cold.

We’ll do our best to have a nice lineup, maybe some Dylan, Joan Baez for sure – if they’re still getting along – Crosby, Stills, Nash, Young – whoever’s left over by then – we’ll have them over for some coffee, maybe some nice Baklava, talk about what really happened in the 1960’s and where we screwed it up.  So, yeah, Judy Collins has already turned us down.

That’s always a nice way to start a confessional program – talking about the mistakes we’ve made.  Jerry Springer doesn’t do that, notice?  Some of my Staff talked to Jerry’s people so, unlike some HBO programs, this one won’t have any midgets, dwarves, little people, swords, naked women or fancy dresses.  Maybe we can give a little on the naked women, but it has to be tasteful – maybe the waist-up, or something – because HBO wants to make money.  I just worry that it will end up like backstage of a Jimi Hendrix concert.  I asked the man upstairs if we could raise the dead before the End of the World, Part One, because I wanted Jimi to play the Star Spangled Banner or Purple Haze or All Along the Watchtower, but He said, “no.”

When the man upstairs says, “no,” you really don’t have a lot of wiggle room to negotiate.  I tried once.  I still have the scars.  Take it from me.  Don’t improvise.  Do what makes you happy and don’t start talking about what’s wrong with other people’s neighborhoods or you could end up nailed to a tree or something.  I thought the white jackass was a nice touch, kind of cutesy, kind of a slam – and He warned me – but then, before you know it, some fasting Palestinians got a hold of me and they let a camel thief go rather than the first Jewish rabbi-comedian to ever mix religion, magic tricks and some juggling into the same act.   A lot of people don’t know that about me, but I juggled on the side at bar mitzvahs to make ends meet when the carpentry stuff got slow, usually in the Spring.  It’s come in handy on Sundays when all those prayers start backing up and we get short-handed.

All of this to say, be grateful for your family and friends today.  The End of the World, Part One is coming, it is real – we’ve put down a deposit – so it’s just a matter of getting the people who want to be a part of it in the flow and usually – somewhere near the first or second run-through – a theme starts to come up like popcorn.  Someone in the group, or one of my Staff catches it, and before you know it, we have a show that everybody likes and wants to be a part of.  We can start with the Winter solstice, but that’s really kind of lame and this should be extra-ordinary.  With Andy Williams gone and Tony’s voice not what it used to be, it’s just not the same.  Somebody remembered Claudine Longet, but, with all that snow and skiing – the Penn State thing – I just didn’t want to go there.  But I’ve seen some of the storyboards and met with some of the lighting guys, I’ve got to say we’re in for a real treat this holiday season.  All the drama, all the excitement, all the butterflies, all the anticipation – and then, a pearl left with the crowd to ponder just in time for Christmas Eve.

I’ll try to come back online as time permits and the planning for a theme starts to reveal itself, but I’ve been kind of busy with ObamaCare and all the disappointment – and the tears…there have been a lot of tears.  On both sides.  It’s what happens when you let your criminals retire to live in Preston instead of Corcoran,  but I’ll leave you with that as a cliffhanger and get back to tie it off before we get too close to the final go-live date.

Happy Thanksgiving, God Bless you and your’s – have a lovely day.  If you’re reading this, you’ve earned it!


My Summer Vacation

Summer Vacation Among the Towers

I wish I had a good excuse for not writing much this past Summer.  I did notice a slight spike in trips to my blog for September 11, which I appreciate, but I am having trouble writing about much of anything anymore.  I find nausea to be my friend and constant companion.

When David Crosby, formerly of The Buffalo Springfield, burst onto the stage at Monterey Pop and announced that JFK had been assassinated as the result of a criminal conspiracy, the year was 1967, nearly four years and a million dreams after that dreadfully fateful day in November, 1963. 

It was Spring, 2007 before I was able to personally shake the hand of, and offer my heartfelt gratitude to, Professor Steven Jones in the Salt Lake City Airport for his service to our country, the former United States of America – roughly six and a half years after 9/11/2001.  It has been nine years and a million nightmares since 9/11/2001 and the only accountable parties presented for public consumption have been nineteen Arab Muslims with box cutters.

The bastards have beaten us down once again.

Frankly I have grown tired of writing and chit-chatting about social injustice and the wars that defile the very unsung heroes who have fought and died in them for all these years.  War is a racket, true, but the game is played on a court that is owned and operated by a global elite who dislike being held accountable or having a lot of attention paid to their activities.  The existence of these individuals has been a finger in the eye of social democracy from the beginning and until there is an appetite for what must be done to rid ourselves of this scourge I feel I am shouting down a bottomless pit.  A strange and peculiar combination of psychopathy and heart must exist in an individual with the stones to walk up to a Dick Cheney or a Karl Rove and simply dispense justice quickly and cleanly.  Not that these individuals are anything but stand-ins for the real culprits, the real monsters, behind this fascist takeover of planet Earth; my point is simply to suggest that peculiarity serves to tag any individual who might be thinking of acting along lines outside the recommended public agenda or proscribed discourse. 

Jon Stewart’s timely, and unwelcome, interjection of 9/11 Truth into a mix of Tea Partiers and other racist misanthropes reminds me of the hold corporations have over our media and the power inherent in the agenda setting function that media always serves.

As I pen this weighty tome, “My Trip to al Qaeda,” blasts my sensibilities in high definition along with Lawrence Wright’s passionate, if unilateral, acceptance of the storyline that Osama bin Laden and Khalid Sheikh Mohammed were behind the felling of the twin towers of the WTC on 9/11/2001.  With all due respect to Mr. Stewart, Mr. Wright and the respect I have for their showmanship, no Arab fundamentalist could have planted the explosive demolition charges necessary and evidently used to drop those towers at near free-fall speed.  Gentle reader, such a feat as felling those towers in less than 15 seconds is not physically possible without months of unfettered access to the superstructure of those towers, nor without the foreknowledge of a sizable cabal with a large economic stake in the outcome of such a catastrophe.  The problem with so much of the truth – the roundness of our very planet being an example of one such truth – is that it is so beyond our ability to believe or conceive of its possibility.  It can take centuries for human beings to swallow such truths as, “the world is not flat, but round,” and, in the meantime, a great deal of money can be made by those of us who are less delusional than our fellows.

None of this is to suggest that all is well in the realm of fundamentalist religions of any stripe.  To the contrary, the piety of Islam and the forgetfulness of the New Testament Christians of the importance of justice combine to form a combustible mixture that well-moneyed powers have been using for centuries to keep us at each other’s throats while selling armaments to both sides.  Power can never be trusted to act justly on anyone’s behalf, and absolute power cannot be permitted to represent any consortium anywhere on this planet.  The price of an apathetic response to absolute, or near-absolute, power is death.  The price of confrontation may also be death, but such a death could inspire further resistance to what every man, woman and child knows in their heart to be true: freedom rings, everything else feels like the resonance outside of a tin horn.

What we must do next is decide whether we will live or if we will die.  Death is easy and comes to pass regardless of what we demand our life be made of.  Life, on the other hand, is a choice to join with all the vitality of the universe and take all the steps necessary to preserve, protect and defend what we know represents the best of our humanity.  We must extinguish the Death Cult that has ruled this planet for far too long and we must replace it with a consortium of leaders who choose life and believe in the equality of our fellows under an umbrella of social justice once and for all time.

Barbershop Diaries, Volume I, Issue 14: Whose Death Panel?


Locate Your Fave Death Panel...Then Hike Your Leg

Locate Your Fave Death Panel...Then Hike Your Leg

People want to believe the Big Lie.  The haircut that looks great on someone else is what he or she wants for himself or herself.  What’s missing in their lives, they believe, is what someone else has, “just right over there.”  People will believe this lie right up to the point where they are hunted down like animals and shot in the street, with or without their children in tow. 

At first blush, the simple truth can be painful as hell to hear.  “No, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus,” is not a truth anyone wants to tell an innocent child whose only crime has been to wholeheartedly believe everything told them by the figures of authority in their world.  But where is the actual harm in informing adults that, as a result of their mistaken beliefs about themselves, they are cutting their hair too long, too short, or improperly, to compliment their appearance?  This seems like a trivial matter, indeed.

But multiply that seemingly trivial disappointment delivered to a few thousand human beings simultaneously and the consequences are no longer as trivial.  Some people will walk away and pretend the whole matter does not exist for them, but a charismatic few will organize and pursue the “bringer of the dawn” until they have found a way to defeat or humiliate him or her.  Depending on a variety of factors, they will indulge this instinct for revenge before they bother examining the information communicated for scattered signs of the simple truth.

My dog seems to defy this template of behavior and spends an inordinate amount of time sniffing and contemplating the lives of other dogs based on the information left behind in the droppings of other dogs.  I tolerated this bit of disgusting, pedestrian and mundane canid behavior for years until I became sensitized to the ways and means of communicating information from one entity to another.  Now that I have seen what passes for communication between human beings, particularly in the recent spate of “healthcare townhalls,” I am less likely to judge my pooch poorly for his preoccupation with simple, if disgusting, truth.


There can be no deceit or dishonesty in the world of simple truth inhabited by dogs.  Perhaps that is why they seem so contented and happy most of the time…the concept of dishonesty and deceit does not come easily to dogs because they are sensually flooded with indisputable matters of fact from the day they are born.  Not so with my fellow humans.  Most of us are taught almost from the day we are born to challenge the information provided by our senses and compare and contrast this information with the reality of our dependence on our elders as the givers and sustainers of our very lives.  And if our parents and caregivers always told us the truth of the matter, rather than what they’d rather we believe, this simple system of rearing children into adulthood would result in human beings who could always separate the true from the false in their interactions with other human beings.


But, as Doctor Gregory House is always fond of saying, “people lie.”  They lie to passersby and they lie to their own children, sometimes without any perceptible provocation, generally without even realizing it.  Certainly to everyone’s detriment.


In such a world, the truth must feel like a toxic substance, an acid that we throw on one another as a means of winning an argument or of confusing an issue, even though it is because of the very existence of some kind of truth that any of us is alive and breathing at all.  Truth is the soil from which every single form of life grows, and yet we give it less import than a dog gives the droppings of another dog.


So dogs have ascended the evolutionary ladder in my book, just as a result of their inability to lie to one another.  What has passed for “truth-telling” from the fake “grass roots” organizers at all of these healthcare town halls this past week has been less meaningful than dogshit.


What does have some meaning in the midst of all the chimpanzee arm-waving has been our continued willingness to believe that “the Big Lie” tells no lies.  Meaning that as I continue to believe in the relevance of appearances, that appearances will never deceive me.  So I am free to Astroturf any issue as a leader of others, convincing my subordinates that “to win means everything,” yet even as I win, I will eventually lose.  Most importantly, I will lose my freedom to choose because I have used a lie to defend something that required no defense in the first place.


Eventually the Big Lie is a house of cards that must fall, but the supposed brilliance of the capitalist system is that the house always falls on the poor and middle classes.  But this is true only if the poor and middle classes do not see the fall coming.  As soon as the poor and middle classes see class warfare for what it is – an attack on their freedom – they will respond in kind.


The first realization will be that we have always had “death panels.”  Currently, those who sit on our “death panels” occupy the hallowed halls of corporate America and are compensated handsomely for coming up with excuses to let us die early and often.  No such compensation or incentive could ever exist in a free and democratic society that elects its leadership “early and often.”  The attack on the poor and middle classes is becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day, as are the lies required to sustain such an internecine attack.

Truth has no enemies…but it does have a lot of detractors.  Identify them, early and often, and do not stop until your fellows gather around you in droves.  

Barbershop Diaries, Volume I, Issue 13: Spiritual Bankruptcy and the End of the Big Lie

Stranger Than Kubrick

Stranger Than Kubrick

By way of introduction and in light of this week’s stunning revelations from Sibel Edmonds, John Doe#2 and former French President Jacques Chirac, I need to preface my comments for this week’s haircut by assuring the reader that I have never once found it necessary to suggest that I receive my “inspiration” for my sometimes violent, often insane behavior from an Almighty God, the Devil, the AntiChrist or any other foil designed to deflect my personal responsibility for my actions.  Not since 1991, anyway.   That would be the year I received my first “license” to offer coiffs to anyone in the general public who desired a trim above their ears.

Some readers, however, may deem it necessary to label me as one of the above because to those who inhabit a dishonest world, the truth-teller is pre-sage, sage and a god-damned liar all at once.  Call me the Antichrist if you must, labels matter not.  What matters most is that we begin to unwind our pre-programmed need and compulsion for a massive physical upheaval, and, instead, begin to focus on our rapidly approaching need for a spiritual one.  No requirement exists for a completely shaven head, especially when a trim will do; but a good trim can massively disassemble and reassemble the internal workings of a human being in desperate search for relief from insanity seemingly imposed from above or beyond their personal control.

Massive spiritual upheavals require, first and foremost, rigorous honesty of a kind which the reader may not be accustomed.  This statement is more obvious than it seems for if we were as honest as we needed to be in the first place, there would be no requirement, nor any desire, for any upheaval of any kind.  Truth being the simple, yet massive, artiface that it is, only requires that we look honestly at what we think we see and compare it to the sometimes massive dishonesties with which we have become far too comfortable living around, sometimes living with.  Enter, then, the basis of every good haircut – a confrontation and understanding of what makes for both poor clothing selections as well as bad haircuts.  Enter, the Big Lie.

Adolf Hitler could not have made his rise to power a success without the use of the Big Lie.  Nor could the Federal Reserve.  Nor could capitalism, communism, socialism, Catholicism, Protestantism, consumerism, atheism, agnosticism, materialism or many other “isms”.  All of these concepts, and more, require the deft implementation of the Big Lie in order for the ideas represented by each of these concepts to embed themselves into our conscious, waking lives.

The Big Lie is as much a lifestyle as it is a technique since, in order for the Big Lie to work its blackest black magic, one has to truly believe that they understand how the Big Lie works and that they, and only their truest, most loyal friends, understand how it can be applied to advantage them in their lives.  The Big Lie may lie to you and me – that is the evidence of its success – but its patrons believe that the Big Lie never lies to them.  The Big Lie demands loyalty among friends, so if anyone in the inner clique were to begin to see the Big Lie for what it has never said that it is, that individual must be immediately expelled from the clique.  Only the Keepers of the Big Lie can be trusted.


Which, of course, is also a Big Lie.

What is the Big Lie at its core but the belief that anything other than the truth of the matter has any relevant existence at all.  Nothing matters, very literally, in the lifestyle of the Big Lie because “nothing” is the very substance of which the Big Lie is composed.  The Big Lie is, and yet in every relevant sense, it is not.

The essence of the Big Lie is not its power because it can have none.  Rather, all the power the Big Lie has comes from you and me and our conjoint willingness to believe that nothing, absolutely nothing at all, can be worth more than everything we already have, and have had, since the beginning of time.  And I need to suggest, right Now, that time has no real existence because of one very important clue that is common among all the child-concepts of the Big Lie: we never seem to have enough of it.  Some of us seem to have none of it.  Others seem to be running out of it like sand slipping between their fingers.  But no one, absolutely no one, can have too much time – so we do what we can to hoard the Big Lie that is time.  More on time.  Later.  It will astonish you, the nature of all our twisted thinking caused by the Big Lie lifestyle.

And what is money but the clever attempt to steal and hoard time from one’s fellows that we might use it at some later date?  All Big Lies are related in some way to each other because each shares the same form, but each has no real existence outside of our willingness to believe that each Big Lie is real and, therefore, true, relevant and substantial.

Our willingness to believe in ANY Big Lie is an open invitation for any one of us to believe in any other Big Lie, hence the development of a way of living – a lifestyle – of the Big Lie.  Anyone over the age of forty-five can remember a time when the Sunday morning talkshows placed men and women of substance on television or radio who actually tried to resist putting on display their secret worship at the altar of the Big Lie.  Now we can see, over a period of time, that those put on display for all to see on Sunday morning television have lost all pretense concerning their embrace of the Big Lie.  Most are quite open about it, many actually revel in it.  Becoming aware of this observation, one begins to see personalities like Glenn Beck as infants who, after smearing their face with their own fecal matter, look at their parents and cry, “look at me, look at me!”

The Big Lie keeps us separated from each other because while we all share a willingness to believe in the Big Lie, all of us want to believe that our personal set of Big Lie beliefs is what makes us special – just like everybody else.  You might laugh at me because I am different, but I laugh at us because we are all the same.  It is at the level of our sameness and similarity where the kernels of truth begin to pop up and challenge the hegemony we have all given to our own set of  Big Lies. 

Of course, the end result of investing in the Big Lie is the same as if we had taken all of our time and poured it down a very cold, very dark, very deep hole.  And therein lies another clue common to all Big Lies: the more time we invest with a Big Lie, the colder, darker and deeper our personal “holes” become.  Some folks describe their personal holes as actual, “holes in the center of my chest where the wind blows through.”  And why would they not?  Being alive and thoughtful means we are, in some sense, children of some modicum of truth and relevance.  Our worship of the opposite of truth and its many “altars” can mean only one thing: self hatred, or a fervent desire to be something or someone other than whom we must now, always and forever be.  A purer formula for heartache and pain I cannot imagine.  Heartache and devastating emotional pain are sure signs that “spiritual bankruptcy” has taken hold of us and shaken us to our knees.

The knees have always been an important part of my spiritual or religious life.  While I no longer ascribe to the beliefs of any one organized religion, I do believe that every religion begins with powerful spiritual insight.  That one must be driven to their bent knees by life as we misunderstand it before we become actual students of a spiritual or religious path seems a personal, perhaps universal, truism.  The insights and revelations pick us up from our knees; our continued belief in the Big Lie drives us right back down.  Like a giant screw twisted into the Earth, we go around and around, seeing the same things over and over again.  Patience with ourselves and others will reveal that we are coming up and out of the ground over time, even though the monotony of our personal life patterns might cause us not to think so.

Up until the moment of complete befuddlement and willingness, we seem to be forever fixated by the notion that, somehow, our Big Lie will be proven true; as true as our presence as characters in this most profound appearance on Life’s disappearing stage.  Your Big Lie is a lie; my Big Lie is true.  If this sounds as moronic to you as it sounds to me, congratulations and welcome.  If my “personal” version of truth excludes you in any way from my relevant concern – forgetting that you are me and I am you – I am living the life of the Big Lie.  How and when your Big Lie unwinds is a personal matter, but the knowledge that it one day will is as certain as your present existence on this planet, right here, right now.

The Big Lie is the Anaconda in the jungle, or the Python that drops from the trees.  It’s goal is to strangle and then consume you while still warm.  That only a crazy and insane snake would try to consume its own tail reveals the one opening in the lifestyle of the Big Lie through which we can walk toward greater and greater levels of freedom and evolution.

While many of us see the path of virtue as the walk of the saints, it is actually the path of the utterly and completely exhausted.  No one wants to be forced to do what they would rather not; we become saints because we have debauched and defiled ourselves to the point where no other path seems viable.  At this most profound turning point, we either decide not to choose and end our experience of this life, or we put one foot in front of the other as our old delusions fall from our bodies like a layer of cloak.  I have often felt that this layer or that would be my final layer, even coming to the point where I feared for the end of my existence – the proverbial hole at the center of the donut.  Nothing could be farther from the truth.  Freedom to leave means freedom to stay.

Yes, many of us do love being members of a “team” and everyone on the competing “team” is somehow and in some way less than us, but aside from the “fun” of temporary competition, the belief that there is a possible “master race” or a “privileged class” is a child of the concept of the Big Lie.  There do exist other ways of having fun that do not involve separating ourselves out into “winners” and “losers.”  If any one of us loses, we all lose – perhaps not in the same “form,” but as should be getting clearer and clearer, “form” does not determine reality or relevance.  More evidence that our world is worm-eaten by the ravages of the Big Lie is the belief that form drives content, or, that a book can always be reliably judged by its cover.  Content will drive form, but it is just impossible to know, via human perception, what form will be the optimum expression for which content.  I have tried, I have believed and I have found my reliance on my personal judgments regarding form to be in error.  We all have our preferences and rather than coming up with categories and critiques, I would like to suggest that we would be better served by simply accepting and respecting everyone else’s preferences and apparent individual differences.  We are all at least a little insane – living with lies tends to do that to people – so passing judgment on another’s preferences is like criticizing a person in the process of healing.  Rejoice that everyone is healing rather than separating out the unfortunate few whose healing process disgusts, annoys or troubles us: there are pretty good odds that their healing process does the same to them, they just don’t realize that fact yet.

Let form go, early and often, in your interactions with those who share your same terminal fate.  Focus on content.  Not the silverware, not the sacraments…the core beliefs that drive the behavior and, probably, the thinking, of the people you meet and the chemistry we experience.  This is the essence of spirituality and the pursuit of truth.  This is the unwinding of the coils of the Big Lie.  This is the upheaval for which we shave off too much hair in too many places, put ink under our flesh in order to recall and pierce our bodies to remind ourselves where our weakness lies.

The day of Last Judgment is the day when we read these words and recognize a deep part of ourselves within them.  It is the day when most all of us realize and recognize that we, alone, cannot successfully judge anything, nor are we truly capable of complete freedom of choice.  Every last one of us craves a pursuit of happiness and are driven by whom we really are to align ourselves with a happy pursuit on a path we deem most promising.  We have chosen the Big Lie, or one of its many children, and have come up short.  We must choose again, asking, instead, to be shown the nature of an honest, open-ended question that our deepest Self might be engaged to provide us with an honest answer. 

On a day of seeming fire and brimstone – of buzzing, snipping and razor-sharp knives, our Last Judgment will be made and our reliance on non-existent time will be loosed from its moorings.  For time is a device, sometimes helpful when properly applied, but the truth of the matter is that there is only One time and that time is right Now.  Always and forever. 

Amen.  Hotep.

Barbershop Diaries, Volume I, Issue 12: In Fitts About God

God and Gravity

God and Gravity

The theologization of our thinking in US society is fast becoming intolerable. Catherine Austin Fitts’ latest Youtube missive ends with a profound, “if we can’t face it, God can’t fix it.”
We’re going to wait for God to come fix us?
I appreciate the importance of communicating important information to all people and connecting with them where they live. A great many people do harbor some notion of a cloud being to whom they can surrender all worries, perhaps even all responsibilities, but we can no longer allow this circumstance to go unaddressed. Addressing our religious mania is a critical aspect of our present crises and a key component to the social inertia involved in getting people into the streets where they should have been two decades ago. If we are going to be relying in any way on a higher power to dictate our thinking and behavior to us, we need to become absolutely clear what it is we are talking about and how such a relationship serves a practical purpose.
Religion and spirituality are touchy subjects with people, and for good reason. Communities of shared values and rituals are how humans bridge the gap between throwing a bunch of ambiguous-sounding air at one another, and actually communicating shared meaning. Without the transfer of meaning from one person to another, human beings cannot relate to each other effectively, nor can we be expected to trust that the words leaving one person’s mouth can be taken at face, or generally accepted, value. I am reminded of the old 1950’s sci-fi B-movies that addressed this issue by positing that all aliens were assumed to be hostile. This assumption spoke more about the dominant social paradigm in place with respect to differences of opinion and values in 1950’s America than it did about an interaction with a genuinely extraterrestrial culture.
The dominant social paradigm in place in 2009 has swung even more radically towards complete mutual distrust and miscommunication than during the 1950’s. In the 1950’s, we witnessed the spectacle of a single US Senator, Joseph McCarthy, electrifying and galvanizing an entire country, filibustering it and holding it hostage, as the interpretative frame switched from concerns over Nazis and fascists in our midst, to complete paranoia over a growing monolithic communist threat. Today, in 2009, we are witness to all three branches of our once great nation being taken hostage by a monolithic threat from radical Muslim extremists who are characterized as magically able to use box cutters and prayers to bring down the security corridor of the entire northeastern United States. Not only must our limited human nervous systems accept this pabulum as fact, we also are expected to surrender, without question or critical investigation, to the notion that two modern 110-story buildings were able to fail and collapse into nearly their own footprints in less than 15 seconds without the use of prepositioned explosives. The lunacy that passes for acceptable fact in our mainstream media is mind numbing, crazy making and panic inducing. Not only can citizens no longer trust their elected officials and their government, they can no longer trust each other.
To suggest that all of this chaos and confusion occurred by accident strains credulity to the breaking point. The facts are that the United States is the only nation on the face of planet Earth that has ever exploded a nuclear device over a civilian population, the only nation to have both opposed and yet financed the Nazi war machine during WWII, the only nation responsible for the projection of the powerful financial tentacles of the Federal Reserve banking system into all but two autonomous States and the only nation left on the planet that relies on the threat of assassination to control the behavior of its key elected officials. To suggest that such a nation-state, through pure happenstance, fell into a condition of interpersonal panic and distrust without the approval and sanction of an overbearing, ruling cartel outside of public accountability is to believe in the reality of the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus and the possibility of the physical resurrection of dead human tissue.
In fact, it is has been precisely the work of organized religion to ensure that enough members of a nation’s citizenry believe in “magic” to allow for the control of key minorities of its population through intimidation and brute force. Intellectuals, the scientifically-minded, atheists, agnostics and geniuses are all held in check, politically and rhetorically, through the use of the belief in magic that organized religion provides, as well as the intimidation and brute force that the State provides through employing “true” religious believers within its law enforcement ranks.
So who is this “god” that organized religion claims to provide ordinary citizens access to, and is this god the same god Catherine Austin Fitts claims can’t fix what we choose to deny exists?
We can stop with the endless muttering and chanting about a God who is going to save us from ourselves right…about…now. To suggest that any God, or truth, of the ultimate variety cares whether we live or die is ridiculous. Truly, we are better off dead as far as ultimate reality is concerned since the existence of imperfection anywhere is a threat to the existence of a perfect God everywhere and at any time. Stop with the useless blathering on of “it’s a mystery” and “we can’t know what God is thinking,” and grow up. Are you hearing yourselves? Do you actually believe a God of ultimate reality would make Itself impossibly difficult to establish contact with? Only rocket scientists and priests could begin to grasp the immense holiness of the one true God? Have you completely lost your minds? Creation always knows Itself and could never be alien to Itself: no one puts an apple pie in the oven and expects a chicken to pop out in an hour … unless … they … are … completely … bonkers.
It is incredibly simple to know God. So simple, in fact, that we need not be concerned about it. If such a relationship with God was to exist, and I believe that it does, we couldn’t possibly put the nature of our relationship into words and successfully communicate it verbally because it is, by definition, non-conceptualizable. That means that if we could have created a method for communicating the knowledge of the existence of God, we would have done so by, say, twenty years ago. We’ve been at it for some time now, don’t you think? God is beyond words, in other words. No point in discussing it any further, in still more words. So shut up about it, already. Focus. At the bunny. This one is for keeps.
People of great wealth and power have systematically and cynically lied to us, as a civilization, for well over 2,000 years. Think that I am lying? Explain to me how an all too common story of the execution of a champion of the poor by champions of the rich and powerful was summarily distorted to become a tale of those dirty, nasty Jews? Who do you think could afford the printing presses and scribes necessary to spin these tales of so-called ultimate truth – do you think that in between dodging plagues, famines and bouts with undrinkable water, the poor were able to scrape together enough money to buy a publishing concern? Where in their King’s Keep would they have placed such a device?
The problem was not that the Jews killed Jesus, the problem was, is and always will be, that the rich kill the poor; the have’s murder the children of the have not’s; the powerful exploit the powerless. Insert the label for the ethnic identity of any group that challenges the authority of any other group and you have your answer. The “Jews” could have been the Egyptians. Or the Syrians. Or the Persians. All that was required to fill in that particular role was an ethnicity that was actually taking steps to improve its lot, not unlike what Black Americans are doing in the United States today. Notice how “friendly” and “receptive” white Americans have been to the rising star of Black America – now multiply this most recent slice of humanity times 2,000 years and you have your next designated scapegoat for the downfall of yet another empire. And add the queers at the end to keep the ancient storyline consistent.
I am so over laying the responsibility and accountability for the despotism and reptilian monophonic thought of human beings at the feet of the baby Jesus; either as an expression of “hopium” or as a request for clemency. Our biggest problem today is not justice – for it has become “just-us” in the blink of an eye – our problem, your’s and mine, is a problem of mercy.
How much longer are we going to pretend that the lives that these scoundrels are leaving us with will truly be worth living this time next year? Do you really want to live to see your grandchildren expire from hunger, disease and grinding poverty? Do ya’ really? What about your children? Do you like the idea of feeling them die in your arms while you’re standing in a bread line, dying of thirst? Do you like this worldview? I hope you do because it is coming to a city or town quite near to you every day you sit on your fat, corpulent ass and let the powers that be take from you what was once your birthrite.
Enough with the hopium! Enough with the God talk! The most powerful prayers available to us are our actions. Use them wisely. Organize yourselves, now, or be herded into cattle cars, subgroup by subgroup. Do not wait for a god on a white horse to come save your sorry behind; this is your clarion call.