a new year

it's a secret...

don't tell anyone...

might think you're crazy...

it's what they want you to think...

that you're crazy...

you're not

may good befall all

lapidation

Sakineh Mohammadi Ashtiani (Persian: سکینه محمدی آشتیانی, born ca. 1967) is an Iranian woman convicted of adultery and murder, and since 2006 has been under a sentence of death under in Iran. An international campaign to overturn her sentence was started by her daughter and son, Farideh and Sajjad Mohamamadi e Ashtiani, and it brought widespread attention to her case in 2010, when prominent media sources claimed that she was sentenced to be executed by stoning. Iranian authorities denied that this method of execution would be used, and gave her a stay of execution in September 2010.

Mrs. Ashtiani had allegedly committed adultery with the man who murdered her husband, Isa Taheri. Taheri was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death. Taheri was sentenced to 10 years imprisonment.

In 2006, Mrs. Ashtiani was brought on her first trial, charged with the murder of her husband. She was found guilty of murdering her husband, and sentenced to death by hanging. Her sentence was commuted to 10 years imprisonment, like Taheri's, in 2007.

In September 2006, her case was again brought up in a different court, this time tried for adultery. She pleaded guilty but later recanted her confession. She was convicted of adultery while still married, and sentenced to death by stoning, and an additional sentence of 99 lashes.

The international publicity generated by Mrs. Ashtiani's plight led to numerous diplomatic conflicts between Iran's government and the heads of certain western governments. Due to the reaction of the international community, the execution had been stayed indefinitely.
(read more) (freesakineh.org) (Du'a Khalil Aswad video)

Alone in the Wilderness

Richard Louis "Dick" Proenneke (May 4, 1916–April 28, 2003) was a naturalist who lived alone in the high mountains of Alaska at a place called Twin Lakes. Living in a log cabin he constructed by hand, Proenneke made valuable recordings of both meteorological and natural data.

On May 21, 1968, Proenneke arrived at his new place of retirement at Twin Lakes. Before arriving at the lakes, he made arrangements to use a cabin on the upper lake of Twin Lakes owned by a retired Navy captain, Spike Carrithers, and his wife Hope from Kodiak. This cabin was well situated on the lake and close to the site which Proenneke chose for the construction of his own cabin. Proenneke's bush pilot friend, Babe Alsworth, returned occasionally to bring food and orders that Proenneke placed through him to Sears.

Proenneke remained at Twin Lakes for the next 16 months, when he left to go home for a spell to visit relatives and secure more supplies. He returned to the lakes in the following spring and remained there for most of the next 30 years, coming to the lower 48 only occasionally to be with his family.

In 1999, at age 82, Proenneke returned to civilization and lived the remainder of his life with his brother in California. He died of a stroke April 28, 2003 at the age of 86. He left his cabin to the National Park Service and it remains today as a popular visitor attraction in the still-remote Twin Lakes region.

In 1973, Sam Keith wrote the book One Man's Wilderness: An Alaskan Odyssey, based on Proenneke's journals and photography. After years in print and a re-edition, the book won the 1999 National Outdoor Book Award. In 2005, some of Proenneke's film, Alone in the Wilderness, began appearing on U.S. Public Television. Primarily, the film consists of shots of Proenneke performing tasks around his cabin, canoeing and walking, and views of wildlife, along with narration. (read more)

all life is precious

An Offering of Hope

In the human world so
desperately out of balance,
where so much suffering is
needless and avoidable.

In the human world where
war and conflict based on
past injustice and needless prejudice
wrecks havoc on the present and
endagers the future.

In the human world where
the poor are so often abandoned,
mindless abuse is common and
greed holds sway.

In this world crafted by human hands,
may peace and the love of justice
that lies in the hearts of all humanity
finally lead us out of the darkness.

dark of the moon

(on the moon)

Comedian or Journalist?

I was with my son watching the News in Comedy Central!

How did it get this way? Journalists refused to help first responders that saved their lives close to ten years ago. I believe the media was threatened by Mayor Giuliani and his thugs who advised these workers that the air was good for their health, when it wasn't. Now they don't want to pay.

Good work Jon, you are a courageous man.

(read more)

excitations

all about sex

" When you're hot...

you're hot...

when you're not...

you're not "

so this is christmas

Happy Xmas

"democracy is dead, happy holidays"

legacy

The Sacred Hoop Of Healing

In a Dream of Vision 

 In a Place where Hearts  reside  and are 

Consumed in Grief   

I saw not Anger nor Retribution  

Not the Face of Hatred  nor of Despair  

But the Clear and All Encompassing  

Heart Of All That Is   

I saw Each One Stand  

Mother Father Brother each 

Child of the Seventh Generation  

In Peace and Understanding   

And Facing His Brother  His Sister  

Each Child of Their Children's Children  

Wrapped his Heart around....   

And kissing the Tears  on the 

Tear stained face  of the One he Held  

Released His Own Pain   

And when he had opened himself  

To Receive 

Unconditionally  the pain and 

unbearable sorrow  of his Brother   

Only then  When Each had Received  

The Healing  of each and every Heart   

Would raise their eyes  to Wanbli  

To All That Is  

In utter Acceptance and Resolve   

Making the Unimaginable 

Grief of each and every Heart  

His Own 

Would we Heal   

And as their hearts and hands reached out  

Would open their own Hearts  

To become that Hollow Bone  of 

Acceptance and Responsibility  of 

All That Is   

And in Unified Silence  

Take upon themselves  

The Duty and the Honour  

Which is Each Our Own   

Of allowing each hand  

And Every Heart  

To take up and to Receive  

and hold closer than Forever   

The River Of Tears  Of All Mankind   

The River Of Tears  Of Humankind  

As One Swift Uptaking  Breath  

Of All That Is  

Is made our Own.     

Crys The Tears/Dreamwalker~Lakota  

copyright 2001

Fairytale Of New York

It was christmas eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me: won't see another one
And then they sang a song
The rare old mountain dew
I turned my face away and dreamed about you
Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I´ve got a feeling
This year´s for me and you
So happy christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
Where all our dreams come true.

They got cars big as bars
They got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It´s no place for the old
When you first took my hand on a cold christmas eve
You promised me broadway was waiting for me
You were handsome you were pretty
Queen of new york city when the band finished

playing they yelled out for more
Sinatra was swinging all the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night.

And the boys from the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out for christmas day.

You´re a bum you´re a punk
You´re an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy christmas your arse I pray god it´s our last.

And the boys of the NYPD choir's still singing Galway Bay
And the bells were ringing out
For christmas day.

I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can´t make it out alone
I´ve built my dreams around you

And the boys of the NYPD choir's still singing Galway Bay
And the bells are ringing out
For christmas day.

eschew obfuscation

believe nothing...




of what you hear...




half of what you read.

get mad ...

There is no "America"

Jib Jab

JibJab

blog.jibjab.com

gone too long

Greg Mortenson

Greg Mortenson was a veteran mountain climber. It was a singular event on one of his climbing expeditions that completely changed the direction his life would take. He attempted to reach the summit of K2, the second tallest peak in the world, in Pakistan’s Karakoram, located in the Himalayas; this attempt failed. During his descent on the afternoon of September 2, 1993, he accidently was separated from his group and got lost. As a result of his missteps, he no longer was in possession of all of his vital equipment, for it was being carried by his porter, Mouzafer. Fortunately, he was ultimately rescued by Mouzafer who went on to become his close friend and ally.

On the seventh day of their descent, they finally came upon trees and arrived at the village of Korphe. He was greeted by a village elder, Haji Ali, who welcomed them with memorable hospitality. The village of Korphe was perched on a rocky shelf some eight hundred feet above the Braldu River. The stone houses of the village seemed to blend into the steep canyon walls. Something drew Mortenson to Korphe; he was impressed by the rugged perseverance and toughness of its people. Any romantic notion he held of these people was dispelled, however, when he learned that many of the children suffered from Kwashiorkor, an extreme form of malnutrition that often leads to death. Mortenson used his experience as a trauma nurse to lend his assistance.

The defining moment for Mortenson came when he asked to see Korphe’s school. What he saw shocked him – eighty-two children, consisting of seventy-eight boys and four girls, doing their lessons outside with no teacher in sight. They did not have a school. Mortenson reacted to this situation by stating, “I felt like my heart was being torn out. There was a fierceness in their desire to learn, despite how mightily everything was stacked against them. I knew I had to do something.” He finally told Haji Ali, “I’m going to build you a school.”

Mortenson had an uncanny ability to adapt to unusual situations. This quality can be readily explained by his unusual upbringing. Greg’s parents were adventuresome and his father convinced his wife to respond to an acute need for teachers in Africa. As a consequence, Mortenson grew up in Tanganyika (now called Tanzania). He was a student in an international school founded by his mother. He was surrounded by children from twenty-eight different nations. He grew up happily oblivious to race and ultimately mastered Swahili. He also had a sister, Christa, who was grievously ill and who ultimately died. His sister’s death had a devastating effect upon him. It was these experiences growing up that probably helped him have empathy for the suffering of others and contributed to his sense of being a citizen of the world.

Following his initial stay at Korphe he returned to the United States. He was so determined to fulfill his promise to build a school that he sent out 580 appeals for funds; all of his grant applications were rejected. He eventually received 12,000 dollars from Jean Hoerni, one of the co-founders of Intel. They would establish a friendship that would last until Hoerni’s death. With this money, he immediately returned to Pakistan to build the school that he promised.

As luck would have it, when he returned to Korphe with the building materials, he found, to his dismay that they were in desperate need of a bridge instead. Although he initially felt dismayed and defeated, he did end up building the bridge, especially when it became clear that construction of the bridge was an urgent matter of survival. It was Jean Hoerni who financed the bridge that spanned the Upper Braldu River.

Eventually the school at Korphe was built. Mortenson received assistance from George McCown, a climbing buddy, who offered some 20,000 dollars for his own expenses while building the school and Edmund Hidlay also became involved in this project. Hidlay was involved in building schools and clinics in Nepal during the 1960s and 70’s.

Mortenson discovered that building the school was no easy matter, for he had to successfully navigate through the convoluted and complex politics of the region. He managed to develop the friendship and loyalty of influential locals to expedite the process. One of the central aspects of Mortenson’s goal was to open up education for females. This produced no end of difficulty for him, but he was passionate about his project, and was blessed with boundless determination.

Hoerni was so impressed with Mortenson’s resolve and success that he suggested that Mortenson establish a foundation, with Mortenson as its director. The goal of this foundation would be to build one school per year within the Muslim communities of Pakistan. With Hoerni’s help this foundation was, in fact, created – Central Asia Institute. The Institute exists to this day.

A recurrent theme in Mortenson’s descriptions of his challenging experiences attempting to oversee his school-building projects was the cultural divide he had to overcome, for he had a restless energy and impatience that are characteristics endemic to the West. In one particular instance, while noticeably discouraged about the progress of the construction of a school, Haji Ali reassured him in the following way, “I thank all-merciful Allah for all you have done. But the people of Korphe have been here without a school for six hundred years.” This was a very sobering lesson for Mortenson; it put his sense of frustration in proper perspective.
As stated earlier, much of his success can be attributed to his ability to adapt to changing surroundings. In his own words, Mortenson describes the following experience, “I was torn between trying quickly to learn to pray like a Shia and making the most of my opportunity to study the ancient Buddhist woodcarvings on the walls.” Mortenson concluded that he had learned enough about the people to conclude that they were probably sufficiently tolerant to accept an infidel, such as himself, praying in their midst.

The Central Asia Institute offered permanence and stability to Mortenson’s mission. He extended the reach of his organization to the Peshawar – the capital of Pakistan’s wild west. The students of Peshawar’s madrasses – Islamic theological schools – were the Taliban. On account of Mortenson’s emphasis on educating young girls, a fatwa, a religious ruling, was issued against him. This was an attempt to abort the construction of any more schools in Pakistan. In mountain villages, the local mullahs possessed more real power than the Pakistani government. In spite of this impediment, the building of schools accelerated. This was due in part to the fact that Mortenson had the support of Pakistan’s supreme Shia cleric.

On January 12, 1997 his dear friend and benefactor, Jean Hoerni died. This was a severe blow to Mortenson, for he had lost the one man who had given him unerring support and treated him like the son he never had.

The achievements to date of this one man with a vision are impressive. As of 2009, 8 and 1/2 million children attend school, girls representing 40% of the overall enrollment as a direct results of his efforts. Mortenson has founded 131 schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan with a population of 58,000 students. The underlying conviction that propels him forward is that true and lasting peace cannot be won by guns, but rather through books, notebooks and pencils. His ambition is to promote educational opportunities for women throughout Pakistan and Afghanistan. His stunning accomplishments are a testimonial to the impact an individual with a vision can have.

Burnout Syndrome in Motion by Romain-Laurent

truth is coming

None Can Dream For You

cash is king

Cost of War

Social perception

I have a theory. An awful lot of what we find ‘attractive’ is determined by what we see our peers paying attention to while we’re growing up. I mean during the formative years of 13 to 29. Experts in human development call this a ‘cohort group’. So, to express my theory another way: Our social perception is determined by the cohort group we belong to. For example, the cohort group that came of age after World War II (during the fifties) had greater respect for people in authority and admired commanding-looking leaders. They elected a war hero for president. Larger-than-life actors like Sophia Loren and John Wayne captured their imagination. They also valued conformity. That’s why affluent-looking crooners like Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin sold millions of records. However, the cohort group that came of age during the Vietnam War (the sixties and seventies) had lost respect for heroes and people in authority. Their attention turned more toward realistic-looking actors like Mia Farrow and Jack Nicholson ..as well as less affluent-looking musicians like Bob Dylan and the Rolling Stones (although they’re certainly affluent now). I hear evidence of this almost everyday. People of my father’s generation tell me they don’t find present-day actresses as appealing as the bombshells of the fifties. They say things like: “Hollywood just doesn’t make ‘em the way they used to” and point to reasons like “Today actresses suffer from mediocrity and over-exposure.” However, from the perspective of someone in my cohort ..that’s exactly what makes them appealing. What they call over-exposure ..I call peer-attention. And what they interpret as mediocre ..I see as realistic. That’s why I find actresses today equally, if not more attractive than actresses of the past. But hey, don’t take my word for it ..the film industry banks on it. The target group for moviemakers used to be people between the ages of 13 and 25. Not anymore. It is now people in their forties. They are less likely to stay at home playing X-box ..and they prefer watching movies with actors from their own generation. That’s why now, more than ever .. the screen-life of an actress lasts well into their forties and fifties. Look at the successful careers of Meryl Streep and Julianne Moore. Which brings me back to my theory ..greater realism equals greater appeal to moviegoers of my generation. Either that or I could say: “Hey, Hollywood must not have built ‘em to last in the fifties.” Or some such bull shyte.

look away now

watch this then look away

Salvia divinorum

Salvia divinorum (also known as Diviner's Sage, Ska María Pastora, Seer's Sage, and by its genus name Salvia) is a psychoactive plant which can induce dissociative effects and is a potent producer of "visions" and other hallucinatory experiences.

Salvia divinorum has a long and continuous tradition of religious use by Mazatec shamans, who use it to facilitate visionary states of consciousness during spiritual healing sessions. Most of the plant's local common names allude to the Mazatec belief that the plant is an incarnation of the Virgin Mary, with its ritual use also invoking that relationship. Its active psychoactive constituent is a structurally unique diterpenoid called salvinorin A, a potent κ-opioid and D2 receptor agonist. Salvia divinorum is generally understood to be of low toxicity (high LD50) and low addictive potential; as a κ-opioid agonist.

The Salvia divinorum User's Guide says that while the effects of salvia are generally quite different from those of alcohol, like alcohol, it impairs coordination. It also emphasizes that salvia is not a 'party drug.'

Salvia is not 'fun' in the way that alcohol or cannabis can be. If you try to party with salvia you probably will not have a good experience. Salvia is a consciousness-changing herb that can be used in a vision quest, or in a healing ritual. In the right setting, salvia makes it possible to see visions. It is an herb with a long tradition of sacred use. It is useful for deep meditation. It is best taken in a quiet, nearly dark room; either alone, or with one or two good friends present.
—Salvia divinorum User's Guide
(read more)

935

Harry Shearer

A Not Terribly Flattering Look into the Future

The current state of the nation is not terribly propitious in regards to the future. In my estimation this is no time for stagnation, or moving backwards. The country seems to be in an advanced state of disrepair with the commons on which we all depend, crumbling and the middle class – once the bulwark of economic vitality – disintegrating. The apparent wish to pull back from reform as expressed by the voters in the mid-term elections is going on while the affluent class is being further enriched.

The underlying core of our difficulties lies in the extraordinary imbalance in the distribution of the nation’s wealth as eloquently expressed by Senator Bernie Sanders from Vermont during his filibuster in regards to the tax bill now on its ineluctable path towards passage and the President’s signature. The vanishingly few hold an enormous percentage of the nation’s wealth. As a result, these same individuals possess a degree of power and influence exceedingly disproportionate to their numbers.

It seems that any discussion of this underlying truth is being held hostage by those that liken reform in regards to the economic infrastructure as synonymous with un-American attitudes and, thereby, considered treasonous. This is unfortunate, for without addressing this essential aspect of the economy, democracy is enfeebled and the plight of the vast majority of Americans will only get worse.

If the general population does not awaken to this massive injustice, the nation will devolve into a state of ordinary existence where social services will be essentially unavailable; where the infrastructure will continue its inexorable decline; where advanced education will be available only to the well-to-do; where climate change will proceed unabated with its unavoidable consequences and where wealth will continue to accumulate in the hands of those who already possess nearly everything.

If we, as a people, choose stagnation, the future will be grim and the ability to correct this massive injustice without enormous social dislocation will be less and less likely.

Lean on me