Friday, 31 May 2013

It's Reset Time

A couple of young gals in particular at the beach this late afternoon really caught my eye.  One, with longish dark hair (nicely styled), had on a bright yellow total (no hedging; the Full Monty, so to speak) bikini, that showed off her impeccable crayon-brown tan swimmingly;1 with the capital V being affixed onto (this) one's mind's eye like a stamp of approval; or an ensign, to be run up the mast and flapping freely in the breeze in proud pronouncement of Victory.  ("Okay, old like-dipping-into-a barrel-of-honey Ensign Pulver: We got the message, loud and clear.')2   The other - to my right; so that I had a bit of a secretly swiveling head, when not looking at the page directly in front of my ever-wandering eyes - who paraded, complete with small dog on a leash, down to a nearby site on the sand after I had arrived, proved, upon stripping off her covering clothes, to have on a less striking, though no less revealing, bikini; the exact color of which I don't recall at this post-beachgoing, and memory-triggering, moment.  Ahoy there, sailor! Navy blue, I think it was; whatever, it was nicely fitting to her long blonde hair, and flawless white skin, yet to be kissed much by the early-season sun.3

At least her skin looked flawless, to my somewhat distant eyes.  As she strolled down to the water's edge.  Very erection-fetching.  Even in an old codger like me...4 

Questions, questions...         

One: Should I have gone over and said to her, 'Excuse me, Miss.  I don't think dogs are allowed on this beach'??

Which could have given her the opening to reply,  'Get away from me, you dirty old man.  And stop bothering me, you creep, or I'll call the cops.'

'And you'll do what with your doggie?  Stuff him down your bikini bottom and pretend he's your, er, little gift from heaven??'  And I'd saunter away, real cool like, like…Woody Allen, blowing it yet once again in a real-life version of his fantasy/parallel life.  Failing the Cool test, by in reality tripping himself as he turned to slink away, from the ignominy, and disappointment, of it all.  Every guy's nightmare.  

Girls.  Can't live with 'em; can't live without 'em…

At my age: I should be caring???  But it brings up a point.  As to where we're at.  In the drama of humanoid life on Planet Earth.     

(Betcher thinking, 'Oh oh - what a sucker I am.  I should have seen something like this coming, from this guy's blog site…'  Well, hang in there.  There might be something of value to you in this reminiscence.)

What it - this time on the beach, and my mind - brought up for me is twofold.  One; picking up on the idea of Woody Allen 'in reality' being a dufus, but having an active imagination: What is reality; really?  There is evidence that there are such things as multiple timelines, and we are living our lives - our lower, our actor lives - in multiverses, all at the same time.  For there is no 'time' outside of a matrix that holds that particular illusion all together.  Illusions; in order to give us a crack at experiences.  'Us': Sparks, fractals, of a Great Being having vicarious experience of separation - of what has been called 'points of view' - through us.  In order to/for - what.  

In order for us to grow.  Having been given free will, and concomitant choice, to develop our consciousness, our awareness.  But perhaps also for that Great Being to grow as well.  

And why not.  Since the scientific sense is that we - 'we' - are parts of (what is in 'reality') a hologram.  The parts, therefore, affect the whole.  And vice versa.  

So, there is the 'matrix' thing about this all.  That we are just playing, and exchanging, parts; over and over, in an ongoing drama, apparently of our making.  

I don't know that latter point; I just surmise it.  The other part of the picture - the play-acting part - is patently obvious, from all the evidence in of the 'reality' of reincarnation.  

That we are not our bodies.  Or our emotions.  

But something larger.

Much larger.

Part of a larger reality, that is about to confront itself, in the second of my points:

that it's time, to draw an end to the play.  

To take off our parts, in our minds.  And confront that larger reality.  

And make the most of the experience, in an individual, and collective, Life Review (which can include 'previous' lives that have in particular bled into this current one). 

And draw this current experience, of being an actor in the drama, to a close.

For a larger act to follow.

A much larger act.

On a 'larger' - higher (vibrationally speaking) - stage.

Some call it the 5th Dimension.

I call it spinach.

Sorry; couldn't resist, in keeping some balance in all of this cosmic thinking.

My comment being in reference to a New Yorker cartoon, where the young lad in the obviously very wealthy family is saying to his parents, at the dinner table: "It's not broccoli.  I  say it's spinach, and I say to hell with it."

And to end this little homily, about the insubstantiality of what we call, and have considered, reality, for eons of time - for long enough, now - and are about to enter a new one, wherein there is no time; an observation, about the likes of lovely young females in the eyes of a man, young or old:

At least in this new stage of our development, a woman's assets, when she's young, won't go 'the way of all flesh,' and their dried-up dugs won't be hanging down to their indeterminate waists, and their breath redolent of Ex-Lax, in their old age. 

And that reminds me: I wonder whatever happened to The Girl From Ipanema???…



1 Or else she was a Mexican to start with.  Though I don't think so.  The other girls in that semi-group (she was with a male; they were a gaggle) were clearly Caucasian.  But then, multiculturalism is all the rage these days; innit.  And also, while I'm being somewhat politically incorrect,* I will note that Mexican girls of that age are almost all, er, rounder.  Just making an observation.  An astute observation.  The observation of a somewhat girl watcher.  Even at my advanced age.  
     You can take the young male out of the old man's body, but you can't take…er……how does that sort of thing go again, George Dubya?            

     * as to make a bit of fun of 'multiculturalism'.  Which is, actually, nothing to laugh at.  Those hard leftists who have their beady eyes on overthrowing the American constitutional Republic and turning it into a mere part of a region of their socialist version of a New World Order, are hard at their totalitarian work, in breaking down the unity of the Republic as it is, and has been.  Wanting a cacophony of languages in the former nation; and a welfare-class, state-dependency mentality, and so forth, and so on, in the collapsing of the Established Order, and the construction on its ruins of their vaunted New Order of the Ages, in a misunderstanding of all that sort of U.S. dollar-bill prophecy-signaling thing of the Illuminati (whereby they have mistaken their antithesis stage of human development for the Synthesis stage, waiting just beyond their machinations, in the drama taking place, and about to conclude).     
     The hard right, of course, have their own, fascist version of said totalitarianism, that they would be doing a slowly slowly act to bring about themselves if they were in power.  As they started in earnest in the Bush Junior years, and opportunity.
     The land of opportunity.  Even for nation wreckers What a tragic paradox… in the meantime, we are being set up for the 'fundamental transformation of the United States' that Obama telegraphed in his first run for the presidency.  His first ineligible run.  Before he got away with the scam, and went for it again.  And in large part due to the collusion of the Republicans; who have their own ineligible characters for the presidency that they would want to put forward, and so did a quid pro quo with the Democrat Party bigwigs in looking the other way regarding Obama's ineligibililty to run for the office.  That particular office, that the Founding Fathers singled out for special treatment in the Constitution; to make as sure as they could that no candidate who had dual loyalties or allegiances would ever ascend to such power as being the Commander in Chief of the nation's military forces.
     How we in this generation of citizens of the almost late, great Republic of America have failed them.  But then, that's another story……in part.

2 For those of a more recent vintage: this is a reference to the book, and play, and film, 'Mr. Roberts'.  And later a TV series; and even later a TV film...Geez; do we old-timers have to spell everything of substance out for you lot?   Like, too, say, the value of essential liberty over state-mandated 'equality'??  Which the Second World War was fought over???  And a lot of good men, and some women, lost their lives in preserving your right to choose your life's circumstances - and you're blowing their sacrifice, in not paying attention to what's going on right in front of you????...
     Which reminds me to get back to the subject at hand.
     But shaking my head all the way, over the present generation's seeming laid-back indifference to such matters as freedom...
     It must be the water.
     And the effing Mainstream Media, in the tank for the Usurper in chief. And as I referred to above, the Republican Party, as part of 'the deal'...
     The CIA must have taken over the scene.  Recall the words of William Casey, taking over as CIA Director; saying, at a staff meeting, in 1981: "We will know our dislnformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false."
     Anyway.  Back to my current scene, of the drama that we are all in; to varying degrees...and varying degrees of awareness, as to the drama and play aspect of it.  

3 And so perhaps the first girl was, indeed, Mexican: how else could she have had such an impeccable tan this early in the season??  Or, having been out of life's mainstream the way I have been for many a year (living in a spiritual community as I have for some thirty years, and being of a certain age, and all), perhaps I just don't know the abilities of tan salons these days. 
     But the contour just didn't fit…   
     …just didn't fit my stereotype; I know, I know…
     ...but how often has it proved to be true?  It's a genotype.  And I am reminded of the comment of a white man who had lived among the Native Americans for many years, and reported that in all that time, he had seen only one beautiful young Indian woman, in our cultural eyes, among them.
     So much for Hollywood's version of reality.  With Jean Peters, e.g., it was a lot easier on our eyes than a real representation of the reality of the matter.  (With Burt Lancaster in 'Apache', for you younguns.)

4 Here I am reminded of a scene in a film script that I wrote many years ago.  An upper middle-aged couple are on a crowded, height-of-season beach, propped up in their beach chairs, reading.  He is a brash, good-natured, deceptively-smart successful film producer-director; she is his wife, who we know is quietly going mad; suicidal, not 'mental' per se.  An attractive young woman, extremely well-endowed, almost overflowing her bikini top, walks by in front of them, almost as though she knows who he is and is strutting her stuff on purpose; and on by she goes, turning some other heads.  The wife, without looking either up or over to her husband, says to him, ostensibly reading a script behind his dark glasses: "What's the first thing you notice when you look at a woman."
     "Her tits," he blurts out before thinking; then adds, totally distracted now from his business at hand, "Actually, usually, her face first.  The word is 'photogenic'.  Then her tits.  Then ass.  Then legs.  Working down the meat counter...What's the first thing you notice about a man?"
     "His wallet," she says laconically, and goes back to reading her heavy-duty novel.  (For she is an intelligent woman.  As her response indicates.)
     But I digress.  Sort of...
     Here, now - in this scene from a movie - I had not noticed, from my short distance, if Miss Doggy Owner was well-stacked or not; but she was very pleasing to the eye nevertheless, and obviously brimming with self-confidence.
     Which was obvious even to an old codger like me.
     Feeling - what.  An urge, of some  sort...  


And a P.S.  A relevant email today (Friday/early Saturday) to my federal senators, Dianne 'Assault-Weapons Ban' Feinstein and Barbara 'Me Too' Boxer.  Both Democrats, and liberal Democrats at that.  But hope - for rational thinking - springs eternal:

'Dear Senator Feinstein/Boxer,

l urge you to vote NO on S. 744.  The president of the AFL-CIO has disagreed publicly with the idea that we don't have the American workers to fill high-tech jobs.  We do NOT need foreign workers to fill those jobs.

That is the working-out of a political agenda, not the conclusion of a legitimate position.

Please check this matter out carefully.  And help put Americans to work, and off the dole, and its intentionally-created mentality of dependency on the (high-spending, people-controlling) state.

Thank you.


'Stan' Stanfield

P.S.  And note that its "political agenda" also includes a) the desire of U.S. employers to pay lower wages than those demanded for union, or US. standard-of-living, workers; thus this is a union-busting/standard-of-living-busting move on their part; which leads to b) the desire to merge the U.S. work force with the Mexican and Canadian ones, in a 'harmonization' of employment between the three countries, as part of a strategic plan to turn them all into a single region (the mooted North American Union) of a New World Order.  Just as soon as the Cabal behind all this concentration-camp stuff can get that pesky U.S. Constitution out of the way...'

No, I didn't add that P.S. to the email to my senators.  It is for more discerning types to consider.  Or shall I say, a more honest readership...


And a further P.S., to the general subject of Reset Time:

from Rupert Sheldrake: 'The Science Delusion' - Banned TED Talk (18.20 min.)
TED decided to censor this talk and remove it from their YouTube channel.  Apparently not scientific enough for them…not good for - somebody……
posted on Michael Lindfield's FB page, on May 13.  My comment(s) (May 31/early June 1):

  • Stan Stanfield Such a good, and brave, man, Sheldrake; willing to endure such ridicule as he has had to, to call'em as he sees'em.
    7 minutes ago ·
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  • (I meant just to start a new paragraph for the addition below)

  • Stan Stanfield It is so stupid, and hubristic, of us that we are still living within the kind of materialistic mindset that Rupert describes. How long, O Lord, how long...Our reality is malleable, Sir Scientist; phenomenological. Deal with it as it is; not as you would wish it to be. And tempus fugit.   Thanks for posting this, Michael.
    a few seconds ago ·

1) The true mark of a scientist: Follow the information that is uncovered.  Not the attitude towards things that has occluded around them.

2) Read Colin Wilson's 'Supernatural: Your Guide Through The Unexplained, The Unearthly, And The Unknown'  e.g., for an eyeful about this sort of 'malleable' thing.

Wednesday, 29 May 2013

And On The Other Hand...

...from 2012: What's the 'Real' Truth?: 'Banker Saves s Dozen Ducklings From a Ledge - ABC News…in case you haven't seen this :) - J'
Jean Hedges reposts here a video story from Apr. 27, 2012.  I recall seeing this before.  And, I recall something else, from the scrapbook of Life on The Planet… 

(You will note that she reverses the 'normal' chronological order of her posters, to most recent first.)

4 Responses to Banker Saves a Dozen Ducklings From a Ledge—ABC News . . . in case you haven’t seen this :) ~J
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  • Clara says:
    May 29, 2013 at 7:18 pm
    This was heart warming to watch and it didn’t hurt hearing a few notes of Nat King Cole’s “What a wonderful world” My daughters choice for her father daughter dance at her wedding. Got two feel good moments from this one. icon_smile.gif

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    • kibitzer3 says:
      Your comment is awaiting moderation. 
    • May 30, 2013 at 12:22 am 

    • That was Satchmo, Clara. I trust that you’re of a vintage to know who that was…

    • And to rain on everybody else’s parade just a little bit; but for accuracy’s sake: There has to be some question as to whether the mother would raise them, with the human scent on them. Nature is, well, funny sometimes; and not as in ha-ha. An example that comes directly to mind, from watching this admittedly heart-warming story: A nature documentary showing a mother duck leading her obviously newly-hatched brood, of ab. 8 ducklings, in a line in a stream, and the last one is having a hard time keeping up. The mother went back and gave him a peck; but it didn’t do the job. There was obviously something wrong with the little tyke. Mom wasn’t going to have anything to do with it: She went back again and gave the duckling a few more pecks, and harder this time. I think this went on for another crack at the problem, before she really gave it to the unfortunate little being; letting Li’l Straddler know that he wasn’t welcome in her care. She swam back to the front of the train, and took off, with the others in tow; leaving Li’l Straddler dead in the water. Not literally. Yet…

    • My heart broke for the little tyke when I watched it. But that’s Nature. She knew what she could do, and what she couldn’t do. And trying to include Li’l Straddler wasn’t in her picture.

    • Not nice. Not furry little ball cute. But that’s life.

    • And I’m not one to wait for every one of us li’l human tykes to ‘get it’, and move up with the rest of us. We’ve got work to do; our contracts with ourselves to fulfill, and the whole galaxy to shed its downy stage. If you’re not ready to move up, you have another place to go to. Your choice. 

    • That’s life.

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  • Gayle says:
    May 29, 2013 at 5:50 pm
    At last a banker with a good heart! Great Job! I love it.

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  • js says:
    May 29, 2013 at 2:54 pm
    Thanks Jean icon_smile.gif
    Good Man, Good Heart !!

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  • maziemiles says:
    May 29, 2013 at 1:58 pm
    Bravo Duck Man!

  • ---
'Root, little hog, or die.'  I remember my eighth grade General Science teacher saying that, as a lesson in life, that it was obvious that she took very much to heart.  She was not a Pretty Woman, was rather frumpy, in fact; short and fat; and it was, as I say, obvious that she had learned what she was going to have to do to survive in this life.  And good on her - she had become a good teacher, of science.  She certainly helped to inspire me to take seriously the learning that we could get from 'science' - from the world around us.  

I have forgotten your name, Ma'am (except the 'Miss' part).  I think it was Miss Hines; as best as I can recall.  But little matter: the salient point is that as a seeker of Truth, I salute you.

(Why does the liquid come up the straw when you suck on it.  Because that is not the action that causes it.  The air pressure pushes the liquid up the straw when you create a vacuum in your mouth.  'Very good, Duane.'...)

A footnote here, just recalled.  One of my friends was always trying to match, or even outdo, me in class grades.  I was the classic fair-haired boy - complete with golden blond mane (which bleached even further out in the summer sun*) - and studied hard, to get good grades, and 'prove' myself somehow, that way; though I don't think it was out of ego.  I just wanted to perform to my best.  Anyway, in Miss Missed classes we kept work journals of our daily lessons, which I meticulously indented the way that she showed us how to: an index finger's breadth for the first indentation, marking the point with a period, and then another, and so on, up to about 4 indentations, as I recall.  I mention this, because I think it was my neat little lined-up rows of periods on the pages - rather than simply guessing at the indentations,  which perhaps some of the other kids did - that caught her attention, besides my correct responses to the sentences with their missing words or figures that we had to fill in.  My point is that the day came when my little friend - who was in one of her other classes - came up to me on the playground and proudly announced that he had gotten an A+ from Miss What's-her-name on his journal; and what had I gotten?  I remember the look on his face when I replied, honestly, and simply, that I had gotten an A++.  
     Sometimes you just can't win.
     But life's like that.  
     You - one - might as well get used to it.
     And make the most of what you've got.
     (Right, Miss Rooting Little Hog??  Did I get that one correct, too???)

* There was a montage film taken around this time of some of us Boy Scouts, preparing for summer camp, and in a small group shot I was startled about this about myself.  The Golden Boy indeed.
     This may have been why I was given, a number of times, some deference in my youth.  But all that is perhaps for another time.

Yes, Minister

A funny thing happened to me today shortly after starting my day.  But to back up a bit first.  

Shortly after arriving back in my old home town, after having been way from it for well over fifty years - ever since leaving my home base in life1 to go into the Army for my two-year obligatory 'tour of duty,' of military service in the Draft of the day,2  and then moving on from there into other pastures - and taking up residence in the close-to-the-beach apartment that I have been living in to this day, just over a year now, I happened to be engaged in a short conversation by a fellow who lives a few doors down from me.  I say 'to be engaged in,' rather than 'to engage in,' because I didn't initiate it.  I am being rather reclusive in my life now; with intent.  Not to be 'standoffish'.  Just - private.  With my thoughts.  And wonder, as to what to do next.  On my mission, in life.  To further my reason for being here at this time.  This propitious - this Grand Round-climaxing - time.  

And further to the brief conversation I had with my neighbor:3 I didn't realize that it would be prologue to my being hit up for a fiver, 'until (his) retirement check pay day'.  And then a tenner.  And then it got up to about twenty dollars, before I began to balk.  I found myself having to tell him straight out that I didn't want anybody being dependent on me, in their lives.  That it was against my 'religion', so to speak.  I couched it in socio-political terms - that I was very much a conservative, in that sort of regard; definitely not a 'liberal', with other people's money.  And he got the message; and promised to pay me the twenty dollars when he got his Disability check.4  And in the event, paid me back only half of what he owed me.  

Which should have been the end of my career as a short-term, interest-free loan agent.  But he gave me such a sob story - about overdraft surcharges, and so forth - that I relented; and he has gone into hock with me again, periodically, though with firm, and communicated, awareness on his part that I will brook no more 'halfsies' in the repayments, come his government-check day.

(Geez.  How did I ever get involved in all this sort of thing?  I am so against the welfare state mentality.  Don't want to encourage it, don't want to have anything to do with it.  It is downright immoral...etc. etc.)

I am saying, and sharing, all this for two reasons.  One is that I have become aware that in (somewhat) overlooking 'what is right in front of' me, in order to concentrate on my 'spirituality', I am acting out an old mystery-school lesson, that I should have learned by now.  It came to us at the 'New Age spiritual community'  where, just before returning to my old hometown, I had spent nearly half of my adult life,5 in the form of a lecture by one Paul Solomon, an American ordained minister (Baptist) who had a 'mental' experience - somewhat like Edgar Cayce - that caused him to take a different tack in his life, and do such things as give lectures on interesting spiritual, rather than religious, subjects.  One was this one: the story of a young mystery-school acolyte who was on his way one day to the daily lecture by the spiritual abbot of the school when he noticed a mop and bucket that had been left in the hallway through which he was making his way to his lecture, and spiritual message.  He clucked to himself about the messiness, and the poor quality of the hired help, and went on his way.  Only to see, the next day, the same mop and bucket, left out in the same place…you get the picture, as to what it took the mystery-school acolyte to hear directly from his teacher to get: that our lessons are right in front of us, in our daily lives. 

Mop up the mess that is right in front of you.  Time enough for 'the details' to be ironed out later.6  

The other reason is because of something that he said today when he knocked on my (mid-day) door.7  He had come to clarify that he would be paying me back the nineteen dollars that he owes me on Saturday at 1pm - since he will be getting his monthly bleed from 'the government'  by then - and could he borrow another fiver, just until then, when he will pay me back twenty-five dollars??  "If you will," I said; to which he assented.  But it was what he said then that caught my attention.  (Not so much the interest that he had unilaterally tacked on to his repayment figure.)  "By the way, Stan," he said, as I was handing over the object of his visit; "I understand from (our landlady) that you are a minister." 

No, I  replied; curious.  

"Oh.  She said you were a minister."

I replied - having quickly thought about the matter - that I must have told her that I had been living in a spiritual community in Scotland before I came back here "to retire in my old hometown", and perhaps had even added that I had led workshops there.  Satisfied - with everything to do with having knocked on my door8 -  he left.  But it set me to thinking.  

Am I a minister??

Interesting question.  At one stage I was going to become a minister; after my 'spiritual experience' at university - that set me on the 'alternative' path in life that I have taken - and come back to school for the last year of my undergraduate scholarship and study original source materials in earnest, to get to the bedrock truth of matters.  But something told me to leave formal education and go out and seek answers elsewhere.  So I did.  So, back to the question:

Am I a minister???    

Well; of sorts.  For example.  I don't smoke or drink;9 so I set 'an example' of 'clean living' there.  Oh, and I bless my food.  Yes; even as a scientifically-minded, well-educated10 adult. 

I remember 'it' well.  I was living in northern California at the time.  Well; the Bay Area.  (But 'northern'  to us if-not-born-at-least-bred Southern Californians.  A subject that I have already touched on herein.)  And I had just had it with living in the secular world, and decided to explore the world of renunciation; figuring that that would be closer to my soul's call, for - whatever.  Peace of mind.  Actually: Change; dammit…and I arranged to spend a Retreat weekend at a former Trappist monastery, further north.  It  was still nominally Trappist, but under the general liberalizing influence that the Catholic Church had been going through, since its Vatican Two Council, or whatever the name, the monastic order had dropped its vow of silence.  Anyway, it spoke to me, at the time; and off I went.  And while there, I started contemplating on bringing more awareness into my daily life; more consciousness, of my daily undertakings.  And the first thing that came to me was to acknowledge, and appreciate more, my 'daily bread'.  And it was there that I came up with a prayer blessing of my food - with my hands cupped over my meal; long story - that has stayed with me ever since.  Every meal, I acknowledge, and invoke:

'May the strength that I will derive from this food be used in serving Thee; and may I proceed in health and happiness and holiness.'11  And here I pause a bit - to let that invocation land - and then I continue (because it didn't/doesn't feel like 'enough' with which to engage the energy of the food): 'Now let the vibratory rate of this food be such as to draw me closer to Thee; and in all things, let not my will but Thine be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.  Even so.  Amen.'  Sometimes I vary the closure and, instead, invoke: 'So be it';  having discovered that 'Amen' relates to an Egyptian god; which gets into the whole messy research thing about the real roots of Christianity.  But, for whatever reason, I usually round my invocation off with the classic version of such things.

The point is: 

So yes, maybe I could be considered a sort of minister.  

Not ordained.

Except directly.  



1 Not 'born and bred' here.  We moved here - my mom, her newish husband, my (older) brother and I - the summer I had finished second grade.  Pearl Harbor had just happened the previous December, and - it turned out; I didn't know the reason at the time - our mother, who had lived in the area for a short while (just after having me, as it so happened to be), had talked her small-Idaho-town half-owner of a Ford-franchise husband to move where there would be really good money in the shipyards of Long Beach harbor.  But here is what I call home.  Having lived here in two different houses; pre-divorce and post-mistress, and with my brother being kicked out to go live with our father in northern California when he hit his teenage stride as a hotshot with 'the girls' and became too much for our mother to handle.  
     But that's all another story.  Just, here, to clarify that a lot of us Southern Californians didn't start out our lives here, rather, assumed the identity on the way.  And it is a real identity.  Hence the capitalizing of the 's'. 

2 most of which I spent, in South Korea, not exercising my training as a Medic, but exercising my interest in writing; in this case, writing Soldier Shows, and operating a desk as the Special Services Guy in the Seventh Division, organizing, for the troops in my (far-flung) area of responsibility, the touring entertainment acts from back home in the States (read the likes of Red Skelton and Bob Hope, and lesser mortals) and the homegrown shows put on by the Koreans themselves, to make some money off of the UN, mostly U.S., troops occupying their country in a friendly way.  My Medic training was due to my classification as a c.o., i.e., a conscientious objector; another, though related, story to this one.  

3 I also haven't had much to do with any of the other of my neighbors, in this 'one-street' complex; we all keep pretty much to ourselves.  Such is life, to a considerable extent, in post-nuclear-family America

4  For what, I haven't asked.  He has shared that he is on some sort of medication, so it is a mental thing.  Which fits, with his overall appearance.          

5 and another chunk of my adult life - nearly eight years - was spent overseas, in a relationship, living Down Under, on the ancient continent of what we Homo sapiens sapiens now call Australia.  But that's all another story.  Or two.  

6 I have a little more sympathy for my neighbor, in recalling this 'lesson' from my many adult years in my latter-day mystery school; only to find the lessons 'arranged' in said school - of life itself - ongoing.

7 He has learned my life rhythm: that I don't answer my door until mid-day.  I stay up late, monitoring, and contributing to, the Internet - like this blog - and get up late.

8 He knew when became that he wasn't guaranteed a 'soft touch,' because once before he had come to my door and I had to tell him - leaving him looking terribly crestfallen, as though his last chance in life had fallen down on him - that I didn't have any money (I had first to go to the hole in the wall that magically produces twenty-dollar bills), but that I would give him a can of beans and a can of mackeral - my 'prep food' - if he was totally out of food.  He didn't take them; but he took away with him the hint, that I couldn't always be counted on.  
     Which is what I hoped he would get, through all our interactions.  And what I had in fact shared with him once, about my philosophy in life, as to why this business of him relying on me went against my grain: that I needed, for myself, to be self-reliant, and didn't want to be involved in seducing anybody else from maintaining that standard for themselves.  
     And thus he could well have thought - from my little homily for that day - that I was a minister.   And thus ended the lesson, on my front door stoop… 

9 I used to smoke.  Years ago.  As a habit that I had picked up whilst in the 'Service'.  More out of restlessness, and nervousness - over not doing what I was supposed to be doing in life, dammit; whatever that was precisely -  than anything else.  No real satisfaction in it.  And which addiction I had been able to kick overnight, when some entrepreneur came out on the market - with much full-page-ad fanfare - with little water-filled filters ('like the Turkish water filters'), which made my cigarettes taste so bad that it took only a couple of the filters for me to break my habit - and permanently.
     As for being 'a drinker', I was not much of one.  Again, I had had a little to drink in the Service - and a couple of blackout experiences had put a halt to that.  (I didn't like not being 'in charge' of myself.)  At my spiritual community, I would have the occasional glass of wine (red; for health purposes, doncha know) with the special Friday night dinner.  But even with being in the 'homeland' of whisky - Scotland; and 'the spirits' spelled their way - I never imbibed.  Perhaps my having been born in and grown up in the Mormon Church had a fair bit to do with it all; whose members don't even drink tea, as I recall.  But I was never a 'full-blown' Mormon - having difficulties with some of its teachings - and grew up in a household where my mom (my parents had divorced when I was still in diapers) had liquor in a kitchen cabinet, for entertaining purposes, and drank to some extent.  She even tried to get me interested in coffee, and I couldn't stand the taste of the stuff, and didn't even become a drinker of that.  Coming back to my old hometown (and I am aware of how many times I have used that expression.  I think not accidentally), in its hot spring and summer, I started having a beer with my evening meal.  But then health matters intervened.  Not so much over the alcohol factor (beer isn't all that terrible in that area).  But because I realized that, though I didn't drink the tap water, mostly because of the fluoride (don't get me started'), and even went to the trouble of finding - filially - a toothpaste that didn't have that poison in it, I was drinking beer that I didn't know whereof they sourced their water, and it was most probably fluoridated.  So I stopped even that limited version of being a drinker.
     I have toyed with the idea that perhaps drinking Heinekens would avoid the fluoride factor; with most of Europe being non-fluoridated.  But I haven't gotten around yet this summer to checking that matter out.  Perhaps because I don't really crave the stuff.  Am happy with my o.j., and my newly-discovered Naked veggie and fruit drinks, and the recent addition to my imbiber's repertoire, of V8 cocktail.  M-m good.  M-m good.  That's what V8 Juice is: M-m good.  (With apologies to Campbell's Soups.)

10 three years at Stanford University - 'the Harvard of the West', to which I had won a scholarship.  Pre-Med studies; studied hard - a B+ average for my first two years  - to make it into Medical School.  Until a funny thing happened to me on the way, in the middle of Junior year; and I ended up dropping out, of my formal education, to start a lifelong search for Truth.  Small 't' and capital 't'.
     Another story.  But part of this one, too.   

11 I tried for awhile varying that last word with 'wholeness'; trying to bring that concept into the equation.  But I found that, for some reason, my mind would prefer to kick up for me the word, and invocation, of 'holiness'.  And who am I to argue with these sorts of things.

Tuesday, 28 May 2013

More Of That Crazy Loon

from '"Fox News Vs. The Cult Of Obama' - Joel  B. Pollak - May 28

kibitzer3 a minute ago
A very perceptive article, Joel.  And it is that hubris that will bring them down; for they are making mistakes in their arrogance in wielding power.
By the way, don't discount "the Hegelian notion" as just a fantasy.  Hegel had his finger on how socio-political organisms evolve. The mistake in this case is the far Left thinking that they are the crowning, Synthesis stage of such development; whereas the truth is that they are just the antithesis of the Established Order.  Including the religious/atheist face-off. We are heading toward the true crowning stage of human history, which includes a move beyond competition vs. cooperation/individualism vs. collectivism, and religion vs. atheism, to 'the best of both': all contradictions resolved, in moving into an awareness of the spiritual dimension (beyond mere religions), including awareness of ourselves as parts, fractals, points of view - emanations, of One Holy Being.  And thus, the time to claim our place in the pantheon of galactic civilizations.

A Screwy Letter

(with apologies to C.S. Lewis)

a letter to my nephew on the occasion of Memorial Day (slightly abridged):

Dear Nephew

Thanks for the 'Happy' [Memorial Day].  I too put up a flag today.  I forget where I got it - I think it was from the Nat'l Organization for Gun Rights (NAGR), one of the many conservative organizations that I support financially (even on my limited Soc. Sec. budget.  What else should I spend it on???).  I had to go to WalMart to find some screw hooks to hook the two metal grommets of the flag on; it didn't come with a pole.  But it worked.  And thanks for the mention of Flag Day; I was wondering when I would have another occasion to put it up outside the door of my apt.   

Romney.  I thought he acquitted himself well in the couple of segments of the debates that I caught; very presidential.  But the Dems caught him on a legitimate question about his background.  That hedge fund that he founded apparently made its big-payoff money on the drug trade, out of Central America.  Apparently Romney got involved with the Bush Family in their illegal dealings, including that trade.  And extolling Cheney on the campaign trail the way he did, did him no good, except among those who would back him financially as not a boat rocker for their ill-gotten-gains.  Cheney helped get the U.S. into the Iraq War [not just for the oil but] for the money; Halliburton, etc. etc.  I know you are big on American military might, but please do some more research on the matter: the Cabal have used patriots like you to further their ignominious ends.  

As for further wars.  It's time for an end to all that sort of thing, Nephew; not a continuation of the play that humanity is involved in, and has been involved in for long enough.  Almost too long.  It's time for a Change, alright.  Real Change, this time.  Not the Obama slowly slowly move-to-the-Left Change that the current administration is involved in.

The Truth will out, in all these things.  For Justice will be served.  But it may startle some people, in some of its details.  Don't be among them.  Keep checking out who was really behind 9/11, and why; and so forth.

If people want to live under government of, by and for the people, they have to put in the hard yards to make it work.  Otherwise, the wolves take over.  Our Founders warned us about all this.  And deserve better than they are getting out of us their successors right now.  

Anyway, them's my thoughts right at the moment.

Oh - one more thing.  I forget where I came across the info, and what precisely it was, but there is some question about Reuters.  Don't trust them, just because they're 'French'.  The Cabal have long tentacles.    

As Reagan said: "Trust.  But verify."

And on that note - I bid you to

Be Well, Nephew

Uncle Duane [my real first name; since you ask]  


And I would now extend this bit of advice to the rest of you, my relations:

We really need to get beyond this stage of development, to our next stage, as a species, of full consciousness; into the understanding - to the extent that it lands deep in our hearts - that We Are All One.  That As you do unto others, so do do you do unto yourself - literally.  For - as I say; and reiterate; and will reiterate until I am Krishna-like blue in the face, and it breaks into mainstream consciousness:

We Are All One.  And All IS One.   

And with that, I rest my case.

For now.

You are not off the hook yet, Citizen.  Friend.  Relation.

Part of Me.

Part of We.

Part of the I, that is watching over Us, as We make Our way out of the matrix that We created.  To experience a degree of separation.  In order to come back to Unity with greater understanding.  And appreciation.

And gratitude.

And Love.

For all aspects of the One  



that We have allowed there to be given form to

and can do a much better job of

as Family.


Monday, 27 May 2013

The Golden Age of Gaia

from Golden Age of Gaia: 'DL Zeta: Eclipse Energies Amplify the Unified Field of the New Time'  - May 26.   Reposted from - May 25

"The energies of the May 24/25 full moon eclipse in Sagittarius coincide with the Festival of Goodwill to help anchor and amplify the new time on planet Earth. The Festival of Goodwill each year seeks to create a unified field of love, corporation [sic]and peace, and over the next few days, those energies will be amplified by the powerful lunar eclipse…

"Expansion is a central theme of this lunar eclipse in Sagittarius…

"During the May 24/25 eclipse, we are asked collectively and individually to examine if anything stands in the way of our spiritual expansion, visions and ability to receive the love and abundance that is our natural birthright. Sagittarius seeks the path of expansion, justice, generosity, abundance, prosperity and optimism. These are the ingredients needed at this time to help shift humanity to timelines aligned with the new time. It is time to jettison old beliefs and world views that limit and enslave us and prevent us from recognizing our true spiritual nature and identity…"

I don't know much about astrology.  But I do know that we - on this planet, and the Earth herself - are subject to cosmic influences.  And that the Earth/solar system is moving into alignment with the Galactic Center, in a completion of what is known as a Grand Round - an approx. 26,000-year cycle, involving 'the precession of the equinoxes'.  So: who knows.

Or about a previous article in this (May 26) edition of Golden Age of Gaia, titled 'Genii Townsend: City of Light Update - Instaneous [sic[ Happenings',1 where the lady in question passes on information channeled to her recently about a subject that I know something about.  

Her information is about a 'City of Light' purportedly manifesting in Sedona, Arizona (purportedly a vortex center of Light) - where she lives; and a subject that she has written books about - as well as one in Australia (somewhere) and one in the UK (again, somewhere unknown at this time; or at least, unreported to the public).  I would be curious to know if the one purportedly to manifest in the UK has anything to do with the sense of the founders of the spiritual community up in the north of Scotland where I spent many years of my life, until just recently, as to what they were involved in anchoring there.  But I am more intrigued by an experience with this subject of my own, many years ago (which in part led me to, and to live in, that spiritual community). 

Briefly: I had a 'spiritual experience' in my third year at university that occasioned me to leave my formal education and set out on my own, looking for answers to the Big Questions, of Who am I, and Why am I here, and What is life all about anyway - you know; the usual.  After a year of such seeking (during which time I came up with some answers, but most assuredly not all of them) I had to go into the military for two years of service, as part of the Draft system that was in place at the time (this was just after the 'cessation of hostilities' in Korea).  I want in as a c.o. - i.e., conscientious objector; which meant that I wouldn't bear arms, was in the Medics - and came out, after two years over in Korea,  determined to try to create the kind of world that I wanted to live in; which had nothing to do with such puerile things as wars, and all that low-consciousness garbage.2  I felt rather alone in my position;but then I had been a bit of a loner in my life, anyway.  

Anyway, time passed - during which I continued in my studies; both as to spiritual matters, and as to the political scene in the world, i.e., as to who was really running the world, and what was their Plan3 -  and a day came when I was given an opportunity to come up with an idea for a film.  I was living in Hollywood at the time, and was interested in using the medium of film to help change the world (knowing how moving they could be, having experienced that myself from them occasionally); so I became self-taught, with the help of a couple of books, in the writing of screenplays.  The potential director wanted to locate it in Mexico, for cost purposes; and I set about thinking how I could use that requirement to come up with something of value. 

What I hit on was the story of a youngish American male who was living down there, in a small coastal village, in an artist's colony, as a student assistant to the Hispanic woman who was running the colony.  (My image in mind was of the likes of Jack Lord - Hawaii 5-O?? Look it up - for my lead and Anna Magnani  - and look her up, too; how time flies - for the tough-as-leather colony director.)  I opened the film with shots of GIs leaving Korea while hostilities were still going on there, finished with their tour of duty; while others were rotating in. (Come and go; come and go.  And on and on it goes...)  Somewhere in the crowd of those leaving was, obviously, 'my man', though unintroduced at the time; just one of the many, caught up in the action of the times.  Now, in current time, there comes to this out-of-the-way village a young dark-haired American female, attractive, but a bit spoiled; uncomfortable with having to sit crammed in with the peasants on a rickety bus ride to this godforsaken place.  It turns out that she has come, not because of the artist colony, but because her father is there, holed up - on holiday as a cover - with a couple of other businessman types, doing something mysterious.  Motherless (mater; matter.  'Motherless' = still capable of being molded), she is seeing him before heading off to Europe, to study there for awhile.  I work with the subtle theme of her - standing for Innocent America - possibly being seduced by jaded Old World Europe if she 'went' that way/imbibed from that cup, and perhaps being 'saved' such an effete, corrupted outcome if she finds something in this simple, rustic, close-to-the-earth peasant village that could speak to her more deeply than that other world, and its forgotten dreams; 'alive' on and with the depleted sense of This is All there Is, so we might as well get used to it...  

But on the surface, what happens is that girl meets boy; girl is attracted to boy, who doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with her; girl persists, until he relents, and tells her that he would like to paint her.  He does so, through a series of paintings that get deeper into 'her', though we don't see them at the time.  All we get is a deepening sexual tension; which also involves a couple of the other male students, one of whom is very intrigued by 'the possibilities' unfolding here, in a hinted-at revolutionary way, and which also involves The Madame colony director, who is not sure that she likes the influence that her right-hand man and star pupil seems to have fallen under, with the advent of Miss Innocent America in his life here.  Cue various streams of intrigue; also involving the mysterious work that the Three business Wise Guys are engaged in (which has some appearances of a price-fixing conspiracy).

I could go on; but the essence is that Miss Innocence Abroad smokes Our Hero out of his safe sanctuary life, when she is killed via jealousy by one of the village young women, who has had her own eye on Our Hero (the best of Norte America), and resents La Gringa coming into her turf (read: Aztlan), thus wreaking revenge (read: La Raza.  With the 'issue' compounded by the growing in-certain-eyes 'affectation' of American Innocence in starting to wear the 'local color' of clothes and scarves; but which do indeed go well with her (relentlessly) turning browner under the local sun.  But to a true Razarian, it is seen as an insult).  With some regret evinced by Revolutionary Guy, who has, Iago-like, subtly schemed to bring the sexual tension to a head, for his own purposes; in a move calculated to bring about Our Americano Hero's downfall, since the villagers respected him too much to engage in what our two revolutionaries would prefer them to do.  (See a young Mexican Christopher Walken in this role; with a sinister background to his likeable appearance.)  And Father - Corrupt Modern America - seems genuinely bewildered by what he has caused, in having a role in the destruction of Innocent America, that has ended up affecting him personally.  And Madame Rojas?  (For that is her name.)  After enduring Our Hero's silent brooding for awhile over the death of Miss American Innocence - even as had tried to avoid any responsibility for anything, in a corrupt world, by dropping out and coming to live in this out-of-the-way place; simply minding his own business, and letting the world mind its; and carry the can accordingly - she calls him in and rebukes him, accusing him of hiding his artistic light under a bushel:  

"I know what you are up to, Raymundo," she says.  (For that is his name.)4  "I know why you came here.  You wanted to 'get away from it all'.  And when I happened to locate here, because of the sun and the sea, you saw an opportunity to develop your artistic talent, that you could then keep from the world, for its not living up to your expectations and desires.

"Well, let me tell you something, Expatriate.  You are not fooling anybody.  Least of all, yourself.  How do you expect the world to change, if you won't engage in the process?  You incarnated at this time.  Now live with it.  I don't want you using me to further your spiteful ends.  Get out there and be part of the solution.  Do you hear me?  Get out!"

As he leaves her presence, her true feelings well up, in tears, as she says, to herself, "Don't go…"  But she knows that that is what needs to happen, in the great drama of life.          

It all results in Our Hero leaving the colony and village, regretful of what his attempts to stay safe in life - and keep his light hidden under a bushel; as Madame Rojas perceived about him - have caused, and striking out into the unknown. Having to be on about his better business... He bequeaths all his artwork to The Madame, which, it turns out, is formidable, and includes the painting of the inner walls of his one-room adobe house with various nature scenes, including one wall of a seared desert with a solitary crucifix-like cactus 'below' and 'above', a sun about to leap out of the scene and fry the viewer; and one wall having been turned into the edge of a jungle, with the yellow eyes of a cat of prey staring malignantly at us from within its confines.  The sense is that he doesn't trust his own passions, if aroused; could become such a ferocious beast himself, if not kept in check, by - whatever.5  

He leaves, on foot; with Revolutionary Guy asking to join him: deeply moved by what has transpired, including inside himself, and seeing in Our Hero another way to help make change on the planet, than the traditional revolutionary way.  Which is brought into 'the light' when, at a rest stop in the mountains that they are passing through on their way, to wherever, Revolutionary Guy asks Our Hero - in a somewhat kidding way, but telegraphing his seriousness, willing to forsake his old path and follow this mystery man - where they are going. Our Hero pauses in thought, and then says, to his unbid acolyte:

"I'd like to be in on the building of a city…"

It is left there, at that point.  But what came to me - all those years ago, and before I had ever heard of any such a thing, or even of 'the New Age' - when I thought of what Our Hero would think of, was the idea of being in on the building of a City of Light.  

And that is what happens at the end of a film.  Whereby Our Hero could come back to the world - through an act of Love and Sacrifice - and not worry about all of his pent-up anger at The Way Things Are spilling out in rage against Humanity, but could channel his energy creatively.  In a final, crowning work of art. 

Oh; and The Madame, and all of Our Hero's secret paintings (that even we haven't seen much of)?  We see her in an art gallery in Mexico City  at an exhibition of her students' work, airing their wares particularly to the wealthy benefactors who have backed her colony dream.  They graze through them, mostly making superficial comments ('Oh, I like that one.  The colors?  Wouldn't that go well in my living room, darling??').  When they come to a section that features Our Hero's work, they can't understand it; especially not a series, that starts with a simple portrait of a Mona Lisa-like, secret-smiling (pregnant with promise) young white woman, that then morphs into a painting of a darker-skinned young woman, who however is obviously the same person, though somewhat bronzed now, and now in native costume and more serious in demeanor; that then morphs - in the time that they had together - into, not a 'full-blooded' native-looking young woman, but a Rosy Cross: dark brown stubby-necked cross with black shading and a blood-red rose bound tightly at the crux of the matter. 

The essence of the Mystery Schools that have come onto the planet over the years.  And gone...6  

Our benefactor bunch just don't know what to make of it all; to the disgust of The Madame, who, however, doesn't say anything.  After all, they're paying the bills……talk about pearls before swine………

And just before we close out the scene, we overhear a couple of the ladies mentioning in passing a rumor that there are some people out in the desert, building a strange city; and what do you make of that?……and 'Oh, here's another one, that I like.  It could go in my - '



1 originally posted at on May 25

2 I have written previously about my turn-off from things military whilst a pre-med student at university, somewhat forced to take ROTC. 

3 I came across the Illuminati, aka the Cabal, a long time ago; and have kept an eye on them, and their shenanigans, ever since.

4 More 'properly, Raymond; or Ray for short.  But Madame Rojas always calls him Raymundo; as if to remind him of, and call him on - something...
     At the least, of what artistic (i.e., creative) ability there is in him, that it is her 'job', role, to help tease out, and into the light of our day and age.  Here.  On a world of such need: of individuals giving of their creative best.  In its hour of great need, of quality, and integrity.  Not kitsch, and falsity.
     Of absolute.  Not relative, to the times.  Like those who have sold out to the times.
     And a P.S. about names herein: Miss Innocent America's name is Joyce.  As in Ray-Joyce, if they happen to get 'married', and his spiritual integrity can keep America's youthful energy from going the way of the Old World, symbolized by her heading for Europe, and just 'happening' to stop off here - with the Third World energy of the Hispanics - on the way.  Which, unfortunately, is tarnished by issues of resentment, and revenge.  As Karma still has a ways to play out its scenario yet...         

5 Another wall is a scene of a wave with dolphins happily surfing it.  And the fourth wall is of a pyramid, in the middle of nowhere.
     It is as though he has 'walled' himself in here, in this separate world, apart from the one that he, er, has a problem with.  And the 'intruding' presence of Innocent America - at the time of Her greatest need (Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean) - has called him out of his Eden.  To get on with his real job.
     Forsaken, solitary cactus (prickly on the outside; soft on the inside) or not.
     That She will not have died in vain; but will have been instrumental in a new birth of freedom on the planet.  On a higher turn of the spiral, than the same old, same old.
     In the birth of an entirely New Age.

6 Note: Ray had been quietly chronicling Joyce 'going native'; not inspiring it, or coaxing it to happen.  When Joyce would appear for a sitting, it was her decision to wear what she did; not Ray's.  He is really trying to keep out of all of these sorts of things, in his little hands-washed Eden; in a sort of resigned acceptance that life will play out the way it will.  


P.S. The title of my film?  When Seasons Come.  As in
When Seasons Come/A man must go/And do what needs be done.
     Don't bother trying to look the quote up.  I made it up.
     And the film?
     It never got off the ground.  The potential director moved on to other projects, before mine was even submitted to him.
     Such is the nature of show business.

Sunday, 26 May 2013

Thoughts, Dreams, Reflections...

Further on the subject of 'usurpation' touched on/brought up in yesterday's blog, and including a 'pet peeve' of mine, to do with the irresponsible non-teaching of proper English in our American schools these days:

A nation of citizens who in the English language don't know the difference between its and it's, and your and you're, and their/there/they're, e.g., is a nation of citizens who are not paying attention to details.  Simple details.  Like how their nation is being taken over by ideologues; who know precisely what they are doing.

As to that takeover:

A 'domestic terrorist' has become, in part, anyone who blows the whistle on the corrupt practices of the current administration - and on its intention to fasten a statist form of government on the people of a formerly free country.

We are heading into a new stage, a new era, a new form of government, alright.  But it will not be one of Power Over many by some.  It will not even be one of 'Power Over'.  But rather, one of Power With.  And to be even clearer in the definition: of Power Within.  Coming, to say, from our hearts, over our heads.

And speaking of our hearts; to say, qualitatively, our feelings:

It has been said that 'the New Earth asks you to Feel'.  I would add to that observation, and admonition: 'with discrimination'.1

Case in point.

American taxpayers have been seduced into allowing some of their tax monies to be handed out to females to have babies on - not just to help families in momentary need of financial assistance, because of various life circumstances.  For some, it has become a way of life (in the intentional creation, by socialist ideologues, of a welfare class).2  That policy - and those attitudes; of both those behind the policy and those in receipt of the policy - must stop.

Someone might say, to my position on this matter, that "You are not a truly loving person".  My reply: 'If that's the way you call it, that's the way you see it.  I consider myself a loving being.  But I also consider myself truthful.  And in the current economic system, the truth is that giving taxpayers' money to females to have children on the taxpayers' dime is irresponsible; to the taxpayers, to the single moms,3 and to the children thus born into a poverty situation, dependent upon the taxpayers' income for their upbringing.'

And moving to a socialist system - what is called 'collectivism' (as opposed to 'individualism') - is even worse: because that makes it a systemic dependency climate, and consciousness; the state taking income from some to give to others in a systemic way.  It seduces individuals - females and males - into being indiscriminate in their actions.

And in saying all this, let me be crystal clear:4 None of this is to be taken as speaking for laissez-faire capitalism; whereby, e.g., commodities speculators create conditions for commodity prices to go up, thus leading to widespread starvation.  Or utilities managers being strictly out for making money, and the more - for them - the merrier.  I have no truck for the separate-mindedness, the separation consciousness, of classic capitalism, that thrives on the idea of competition, between 'us' and 'them'.  When in reality, We Are All One.

I am here to assist in the awakening process. Not in continuing, perpetuating the slumbering-consciousness process.

Let us no longer be labels; our roles.  Let us, now, be our true Selves. Creating a New World, based on Peace, Cooperation, and Love.

What is called 'unitive consciousness'.  

And therefore, let 'the government' be on All our shoulders.

For we are All, not only in this together.

But We Are All One.

Emanations of the One Light.  Which 'embodies', at and as Its essence:


And I would add:

with discrimination......



1 a word that has become a 'dirty' word; but which, in its essence, is an extremely important quality.
     Read on.

2 It is called the Cloward-Piven Strategy, after a couple of socialist academics who formulated the plan, in alignment with Marxist principles: in order to bankrupt the capitalist system, with such an overload of welfare 'entitlements' that it would collapse, and socialism could take over in the chaotic ruins.  And by eroding and weakening the fabric of society - the 'Established Order' - in general, through breaking down the family unit, promoting promiscuity and perversion, romanticizing the drug culture; etc.
     A very cynical strategy.  But it is of a piece with many of the positions of the Marxists; notably, the corrupt policies espoused by Saul Alinsky, and detailed in his two books, 'Reveille for Radicals' and his second one - which Barry Soetoro, aka Barack Hussein Obama, was very familiar with, and used, in his 'community organizer' work in Chicago - 'Rules for Radicals'.  Which detailed, and encouraged, in part, how the ends justify the means.
     By Whatever Means Necessary.
     Including deception.
     And outright lying.

3 And note how that expression has become a tool, to beat stingy conservatives - hate mongers - over the head with.  All classic Alinsky 'Rules' stuff.
     The same with the labeling of 'hate speech' anything that smacks of the counter-revolution beginning to get a head of steam.  But, to move on...

4 a play on the 'idea' that we are moving out of carbon-based bodies into crystalline-based ones; on our way to our pure Light bodies.  On our way, from their, to pure Light.
     But first things first.

Saturday, 25 May 2013

The Worm Turns - Or Does It

To Be, Or Not To Be...

from gulag 'Now Fact: All Aspects ObamaGov Completely Corrupt/Criminal' - Sher Zieve - May 24 - reposted on CDR Kerchner (Ret)'s Blog  - May 25
('Even today, many media outlets are still working fora Obama, in order to minimize hiss visible complicity in the assassinations of US citizens in Benghazi, his illegal spying on and record-seizing of news agencies and their reporters (to date the AP and Fox News), his illegal and Gestapo-like usage of one of the most powerful and suppressive agencies ever to exist…the IRS…to threaten and intimidate US citizens (aka conservatives) who do not agree with his Hitlerian and Stalinistic programs and policies with their own and their families' personal destruction; along with Obama's continuing active destruction of virtually every aspect of what was once the United States of America…')

  1. POA says:
    May 24, 2013, 9:21 pm at 9:21 pm

    When the media conned the Republicans into accepting Obama as a legitimate candidate even though he was not a natural born citizen then they sealed their fate. They are like the unwilling member of a gang that were present during a robbery and now have to keep their mouths shut else they land their own rear ends in trouble. The question is how far does law enforcement and congress and the courts let this charade go on? At some point tempers are going to flare and chaos is going to occur unless something drastic happens soon.

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    • Robert says:
      May 25, 2013, 6:46 pm at 6:46 pm

      Thank you POA.

    • You are absolutely correct.

    • Both parties were and are complicit in getting an ineligible, identity fraud con-artist on the ballot and elected. To do so was treason at the highest level so Congress now believes their only action can be to protect the usurper and pretend his is a “normal” presidency. Anything else would subject members of Congress to the penalties for treason.

    • Congress protects Obama to protect themselves and that makes Obama investigation and impeachment proof….and he knows it. 

    • To protect themselves Congress will watch the total destruction of America unfold in front of them.

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  3. American-American says:
    May 25, 2013, 7:38 pm at 7:38 pm

    I fear no action will be taken. It is stunning but real.

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  5. TeaPartyConservatism says:
    May 25, 2013, 9:19 pm at 9:19 pm

    Abandoning Article 2, Section 1, our Constitution has enabled a de facto president, devoid of ethics, who loathes our Constitution, to inflict death, damage and disgrace upon our nation as evidenced by numerous scandals.

  6. Our Constitution disqualifies from eligibility to serve as president, those not a “natural born citizen” born in the nation to citizen parents (plural), pursuant to Article 2, Section 1, “No person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible … .” Exempting a “citizen” from being a “natural born citizen” is self evident proof the terms aren’t equal, as crafted on the advice of John Jay, to exclude foreign allegiance.

  7. “Permit me to hint, whether it would not be wise & seasonable to provide a strong check to the admission of Foreigners into the administration of our national Government; and to declare expresly that the Command in chief of the american army shall not be given to, nor devolve on, any but a natural born Citizen.” — John Jay, (As written, but “born” was underlined), to George Washington presiding at Constitutional Convention, 7/25/1787.

  8. The usurper can only be prevented from further implementing his tyrannical intent, by “We the People” demanding Congress finally enforce the Constitution.

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    • Stan says:
      May 25, 2013, 10:35 pm at 10:35 pm

      …And since the Congress has failed in its constitutional responsibility to be a check against a rogue Executive, the military – who have sworn an oath to support and defend the Constitution, “against all enemies, foreign and domestic”; and have further sworn to “bear true faith and allegiance to the same” – need now to honor their oath, and swing into action, to save said constitutional Republic.

    • That would mean to put the Executive under house arrest; and the same with the members of the colluding Congress,* until such time as The People come up with an Officer OF the People, who will take over the reins of governance, and call for elections within a time certain; in the meantime, with the legitimate power to clean the Augean stables of the corrupt executive branch of government. 

    • The charges against the Usurper and his minions in the executive branch are legion; and to be left to a cleansed judicial branch, or brought before a military court of justice, whichever seems most fit in the event. And to clarify: the recent election has no bearing on the matter – as to the constitutional order of authority – because it was a tainted election, with an ineligible candidate winning the presidency; and so, therefore, was the 2008 election. Thus a crucial reason for new, untainted elections, as soon as possible. As well, of course to be noted: that all the legislation that this ineligible candidate for the presidential office signed into law is henceforth – from this setting to rights of the Republic – null and void. (And so of course are all his Executive Orders, and memoranda, and presidential letters, and signing statements – the entire panoply of power that he employed, in the pursuit of his illegal activity in the purloined office.)
      And may forgiveness play a role in the bringing to justice of all those involved in this outrageous state of affairs. And a lesson be learnt by all; especially The People, of a nation nominally ruled of, by, and for them, under the rule of law. Which in this instance has been the Constitution of the United States of America.

    • Sorely tested, and tattered. But still intact. As an ensign for the nation’s military to now salute, and defend, in earnest. 

    • * the members of the judicial branch of the federal government, in the form of the Supreme Court, are technically free from enforced inclusion in this matter, because the matter of Obama’s ineligibility for the office never fully arrived to their level of jurisdiction. That they were in part responsible for that fact is germane to the issues at hand; but their hands are technically clean in the matter, and they can simply be ignored as a working part of the equation, of getting the federal government back on legal track; as long as the military do not try for a takeover of the nation, in an overthrow of that which they are sworn to uphold.