“There is a road, no simple highwayBetween the dawn and the dark of nightAnd if you go, no one may followThat path is for your steps alone”
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Music never stops
Ripple by the Grateful Dead
Little boxes
Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tacky. Little boxes, little boxes, little boxes all the same. There’s a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one. And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
Thoughts and impressions are arriving in packages that are way too small today. I need a bigger picture. I put on my Merrells and find the shortest path up to Franceschi. I start on residential streets because the canyon would be too tortuous today. I pass by stately homes and funky California cottages. I concentrate on loosening the suspension joints in my hips ..and experience a more cushiony ride. The street gives way to a woodsy trail bordered by pine, oak and eucalyptus. Feels spongy. I reach the top of Franceschi where I get a panoramic view of the coast ..from Rincon to Gaviota ..then out to sea where white clouds are beginning to roll over the tops of the islands. South of me the fog has already breached the coastline and filled Sycamore Canyon. I inhale .. like a wave crashing ..and exhale .. washing away the debris. No quarrels or nagging doubts here. Like water seeking it’s own level ..I listen to the narrative in my head expand to fill the space available ..both inside and out. Calm and undisturbed. I throw the packaging material over the edge and watch it sail away.
Little Boxes by losttimeblues
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Nascent Scream
There is
a nascent scream
forming
in my throat
its
origin runs deep
within
the labrynth of
my
psyche,
embedded
in the fabric of
my
persona,
beneath
the scaffolding that
supports
the beating of my heart
intermingled
with my breath.
I’ve endured
for far too long
the
pathetic nature of the
human
condition,
the
endless stream of senseless violence
that
circumnavigates the globe,
pointless
murders based on
an
infrastructure of crazed logic
embellished
with religious beliefs
that
tolerate no answer except the
ridiculous
ones purported to come out of
the mouth
of psychotic deities,
untimely
deaths of men, women children,
victims
of ludicrous struggles for power
wrought
by nations that seek nothing but plunder
disguised
as self-righterousness.
I’ve
lived through too many wars,
too
numerous to detail,
too
horrid to contemplate,
too
stupid to be believable,
wars that
have grinded bodies
to dust,
buried
alive thousands too
weak to
resist,
wars that
have wasted entire cities,
turned
civilization to rubble,
sent
mothers and their children
to
screaming deaths,
wars that
sacrificed reason and intellect
to the
desire for oblivion and ruin,
wars that
have murdered hope and
offered
free license to despair,
wars that
thwart human progress and
consign
many to an early grave,
wars that
unwind the clock of the future,
launching
history into the
darkness
of the dreaded past.
I’ve
grown weary of the
endless
streams of nonsense that
fill the
bandwidth of the present with
tidal
waves of petty thoughts and
nearly useless
information.
I’ve come
to tire of the
misuse of
language,
vocal
chords no longer the
gateways
to our minds,
words
strung together haphazardly in
nonsensical
arrays,
communication
no longer a tool for
exploration
of self and other,
all has
become insufferable vanity.
There is
this nascent scream
lodged
within the signature of my
innermost
self,
brief
sojourn of life so delicate and
wondrous,
turned
into a shadow play
filled
with circus and
steeped
in illusion.
Reality
has become sidelined,
the
trumpets sound,
the noise
deafening,
humanity
herded into
a vast
and perplexing hall of mirrors
where all
protest is muted and
within
the blazing lights of a
multitude
of artificial suns,
what is
essentially black and dismal
seems
somehow golden,
young and
agile children
armed
with baskets
filled
with a bounty of ornaments
disperse
wondrous arrays of color
without
substance,
fill the
domed enclosure
shrouded
from the incessant darkness
with idle
and cheerful songs.
Dread has
become enshrouded by apathy,
fear by
pitiful amusement,
architects
of the future
have
crafted a world
impossible
for humanity to endure.
This
nascent scream
nesting
within my belly
is an
incipient cry of anguish
over all
the needless suffering
carried
by so many for
no
acceptable reason,
for all
the mindless insanity.
Anti anxiety
The complaint I most frequently hear from former pot smokers of my generation (those who came-of-age during the 60’s and 70’s) ..is that smoking marijuana makes them feel nervous. Some describe it as so intense, it borders on paranoia. Consequently they quit and never came back. In the day, little was known about cultivating for the psychoactive effects of marijuana.
The times they are a’ changing. A new breed of cultivator has revolutionized the field. They can grow sophisticated varietals with a range of psychoactive properties. “The THC component is the same ..it is the mixture of other elements that play a vital role in changing the psychoactive effect.” Two decades ago, most marijuana smokers bought whatever their dealer had. It was illegal even for research purposes. Consequently nothing was known about marijuana other than its THC content.
One of these newly found elements is a compound called Cannabidoil or CBD. It’s responsible for the calming and pain relieving effects found in medicinal marijuana. Takes the buzz off THC so to speak. CBD is also helpful in treating a range of problems, including arthritis, the side effects of chemotherapy, asthma, sleep disorders and post-traumatic stress disorder [ link ]. CBD is measured in grams. Your local dispensary should carry varieties containing different amounts of CBD .. 0.35 grams being considered ‘good’.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
what's your message ?
This is the back of my Ford F-150 pickup...
and this is my message to the world...
What's your message?
Labels:
hope,
humility,
love,
peace,
perspective,
philosophy
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
the art of peace
The Art of Peace is medicine for a sick world. There is evil and disorder in the world because people have forgotten that all things emanate from one source. Return to that source and leave behind all self-centered thoughts, petty desires, and anger. Those who are possessed by nothing possess everything.
"The Way of the Warrior has been misunderstood. It is not a means to kill and destroy others. Those who seek to compete and better one another are making a terrible mistake. To smash, injure, or destroy is the worst thing a human being can do. The real Way of a Warrior is to prevent such slaughter - it is the Art of Peace, the power of love." Morihei Ueshiba.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Trayvon Martin
On his way from a convenience store with an ice tea and a bag of skittles, Trayvon Martin was headed to his fathers girlfriends apartment when George Zimmerman followed and questioned Trayvon, what happened next was an example of suspicion, fear and racism followed by the killing of Trayvon Martin, a 17 year old kid. (read more)
Friday, March 23, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
god and evil-lution
Dawn
Your face
In the morning
Lined by nothing but the sun
and that stubble that says "I worked for this
this life I have for you."
Your eyes
Glinting like a river in the fall
Golden and deep
Promising a rich tomorrow
full of giggles and magical fingertips
Your heartbeat
Beneath chest plated with iron and love
Makes mine swell
And my eyes
Become an ocean
and the moon
is our purpose.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
second class citizen
"The Female Eunuch"
Germaine Greer argues that scaring women is
"big business and hugely profitable."
It is fear, she wrote, that "makes women comply
with schemes and policies that work against their interest".
Sexism is indeed creating a second class citizen,
and fear works equally well on men,
don't be a slave to either.
(art by John Holmes)
Monday, March 12, 2012
Return Of Godzilla: Japan's Nuclear Meltdown
Godzilla (ゴジラ, Gojira?) is a daikaijū, a Japanese movie monster, first appearing in Ishirō Honda's 1954 film Godzilla. With the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki still fresh in the Japanese consciousness, Godzilla was conceived as a monster created by nuclear detonations and a metaphor for nuclear weapons in general.
Although his origins vary somewhat from film to film, he is always described as a prehistoric creature, who first appeared and attacked Japan at the beginning of the Atomic Age. In particular, mutation due to atomic radiation is presented as an explanation for his size and powers. The most notable of Godzilla's resulting abilities is his atomic breath: a powerful heat ray of fire from his mouth.
Godzilla is one of the most recognizable symbols of Japanese popular culture worldwide and remains an important facet of Japanese films, embodying the kaiju subset of the tokusatsu genre. He has been considered a filmographic metaphor for the United States, as well as an allegory of nuclear weapons in general. The earlier Godzilla films, especially the original, portrayed Godzilla as a frightening, nuclear monster. Godzilla represented the fears that many Japanese held about the nuclear attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the possibility of recurrence. (read more)
Sunday, March 11, 2012
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