Thursday, November 30, 2006

WHITE BUFFALO CALF KILLED BY LIGHTNING...

I have just learned of the death of Miracle's Second Chance, the white buffalo calf born recently in Janesville, WI. My gut feeling is that this tragic death is somehow related to the beginnings of the purifications mentioned in my previous post.

The calf was born during a severe lightning storm and has gone out the same way. Lightning denotes purification in the Native American tradition. It is more an uprighting of the upside down than anything. Correcting, yet disorienting.

Listen with your hearts and all will be well.

All blessings to you on this harrowing, yet fascinating journey,
Vimala

LINK to the story: http://www.gazetteextra.com/whitebuffalo112706.asp

THE FIFTH DAY OF THE GALACTIC UNDERWORLD BEGINS...

I am a little late posting this but the period of the Mayan calendar referred to here will last for 360 days, so it is still relative. Though the external world may fall apart, we will finally get our inner sh*t together which is no small thing. Congratulations ahead of time! Ride the wind, Vimala

"The 5th Day is a period of “Light.” In fact the brightest period of “light in the entire cycle. In a plants life this is when new chemicals are produced that carry the message to form buds. In human history, it was this section when Art was invented, the message of Jesus moved over the earth, Mr. Einstein discovered the theory of relativity and America with the victory of WWI rose to world power." --Ian Xel Lungold

-------
ARTICLE:
We are currently approaching the beginning of the Fifth day of the Galactic Underworld, November 24, 2006 and most people have experienced how things have heated up since the midpoint of the current night, May 27, 2006. In fact, the evolution of consciousness is fundamentally driven by the Light of future Heavens and Underworlds and so we are already now being influenced by it both in the form of world events and personal experiences.

In each of the Underworlds the Fifth day is the era of the breakthrough of the phenomena of that particular Underworld and from this we may have certain expectations of what is to come. The overall purpose of the current Galactic Underworld is to bring a balance between East and West as well as between the left rational and the right intuitive brain hemispheres.

In short, as it will mean a significant downfall of western dominance in the world it will allow for the coming together of the cultures of the East and the West. Very likely, it will generate a downfall of the American dollar and ensuing altered economic relationships in the world.

It also seems as if the days are the periods that bring the most earth changes and natural catastrophes and this will very likely also mark the coming day, November 24, 2006 – November 19, 2007. It simply seems as if when human beings are regaining their inner wholeness their control of the external world as a consequence is lost and the Fifth day is exactly such a period, which will create the conditions for such inner unity and wholeness.

Part of the development of this inner wholeness will come from a major step forward in the development of our intuition which essentially is mediated by the right brain half that is now about to be strengthened. In fact, without the development of this intuition we will not be able to use the increasingly shorter windows of opportunity that in different ways will be presented to us.

What there is to do is to fully accept and embrace the very significant energy shift that is now brought by the beginning of the Fifth day and I recommend people everywhere to celebrate on November 23-24 the arrival of the energy of Quetzalcoatl as part of the Breakthrough Celebration (www.breakthroughcelebration.com).

The Fifth day energy of the Galactic Underworld means that its manifestations will truly break through into the world and after this it will become apparent to everyone that we will never again return to the stable materialist mind set of the lower Planetary Underworld. We must welcome the shift that is now taking place in the global energy field and the opportunity it gives us to create balance between East and West, rationality and intuition and man and woman.

For most people the Breakthrough Energy of the Fifth day will be the most powerful transformative energy that they experienced as part of the divine plan. Let us celebrate and prepare together and above all be conscious of the changes that we may now expect based on the Mayan calendar.

Carl Johan Calleman, 11 Chicchan, 7.16.5 of the Galactic Underworld (October 19, 2006) Lelystad, Netherlands cjcalleman@swipnet.se

Thursday, November 02, 2006

FACING OUR FEARS...

This post is in response to the No-Eyes Prophecies published by Mary Summer Rain [see excerpt below].
It is basically a list of events that are occurring in the world, mostly political upheaval and earth changes.
The list concludes with an abrupt resolution of the turbulent conditions we see around us.
I wonder about it's cause...

-------

The thing I wonder about it the LEAP that must occur between the last two stages listed.
What happens to shift everything.
I know that the Controllers/Masters of the present system... their power rests squarely on the backs of the people.
And that our ignorance and oppression keeps us in our place.

Something must happen within the psyche's of the people for this leap to take place.
I think it may have something to do with Fear and our rising above Fear.

Much of what we do and accept, we do and accept out of fear of consequences.
Some of the bravest people I know are ones who have gotten to the point where they say "what more can they do to me?" or "I've got nothing to lose..." people who no longer resist the fates but go at it full bore...people who look their fears in the face and then move past them.

This is happening.
In our daily lives and in the greater world.
Things are being unmasked.
We are more Knowing about in the workings of the inner and outer worlds.
Our heart rates are slowing down and we are more sure of ourselves.

There is a Native tribe that teaches its children that when they are having a nightmare... like being pursued in a dream... if they will turn around and go INTO the thing that is pursing them, the thing will disappear and where it was, they would find a treasure.

The treasure of that last stage... Phoenix flying free... may hinge on just that sort of process.
If we will look at the whole thing, our fears within and the fears without... if we will stop and face them with all openness and perhaps even innocence, then just perhaps, we will find the peace on earth that so many of us anticipate.

Just some thoughts,
Vim


“Crouching/Massive Revolts & Government Turnaround -- Taxation refusals, war resistance, policy disagreements within government body, major upheavals within governments.

“Flying Free/Rise of the Age of Peace --- Total equality among people, discontinuance of all meat ingestion, construction reforms, cessation of most severe natural disasters, pollution-free energy innovations by way of the Earth’s magnetic field, rise of the Indian nation through widespread adaptation of its Ways of natural living and deep human philosophy.”

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

LOST BY SEARCHING

I have spent the past year and a half chasing the wind, looking for my life, and hitting the proverbial brick wall at every turn... sort of. And I have come to the conclusion that whatever it is that we are all looking for, no matter the form, perhaps it just plain doesn't exist. And that MAY be because what we are looking for isn't lost at all, but only appears to be lost BECAUSE we perceive it to be OUT there somewhere, when actually it is right here in our own back yards, under our noses and in our own selves. What if it is the very ACT of searching that creates the loss of the searched-for thing?
I submitted myself to a soul-retrieval session this past week. One of those bizarre things people do, going out and fetching up lost parts of our souls that got stuck in the netherworlds during the miriad of life traumas we humans seem so hell-bent on enduring. We found four of these pieces. All associated with traumatic deaths and losses of loved ones as well as disappointments. I am now a sewn up Frankenstein of person, stitched together, trying to re-member how to be whole again.

Monday, September 18, 2006

R.I.P. Jimi Hendrix

The following tribute to fallen rock icon Jimi Hendrix, was written Al Aronowitz, the Blacklisted Journalist on the 26th anniversary of Jimi's death. It remains a poignant tribute to one of the greatest rock guitarists and spiritual transmitters of our time. It is posted here in it's entirety ten years later on this memorable day. To see the original click here...

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REMEMBERING JIMI: FADED FLOWERS

[In my opinion, Jimi Hendrix was the greatest guitar innovator the world has ever known. Too bad he pushed himself with drugs too far too soon. Jimi Hendrix was a friend of mine and I first wrote FADED FLOWERS in the mournful months following Jimi's funeral. I offer FADED FLOWERS here once again to memorialize Jimi on the occasion of the 26th anniversary of Jimi's death on September 18, 1970.]


I had to talk Miles into going to Jimi's funeral with me. What the hell, I told him, it was only a few days before he had to be out on the Coast anyway and besides, there'd be a lot of press there and the exposure would be good for him.

"I don't like funerals," he rasped. "Sheet! I didn't even go to my mother's funeral."

In the end, he made the plane, Miles, with his hairdresser, Vinnie, and Jacki, a beautiful fox he had picked up out of the crowd at LaGuardia Airport one day.

"She had just come off a plane getting into the city," he explained when he introduced her to me, "and I was catching a plane to fly out on a gig. I saw her on the other side of the lobby and I called her over and told her to get on the plane with me, and she did."

* * *

They buried Jimi Hendrix in the bright afternoon in a hilltop cemetery amid the sobs of people who hadn't really known him for years or who had never known him. It was a cloudless day. Several hundred kids watched from behind the ropes. Seattle had never understood Jimi, and now it had to open its earth for him...


* * *

Miles and Jimi hadn't known each other too long, but in the short time they did they had gotten pretty tight. Jimi was one of those kids who had grown up worshipping Miles as Miles kept getting younger. Which black kid who loved music had never heard of Miles Davis? For as long as Jimi could remember, Miles had been a legend to him, and it was only when he felt secure enough as a legend himself that he came to sit at Miles' feet and ask Miles to record an album with him. Miles said shit, he'd be happy to do the album but he wanted $50,000 for it. For that much of his soul, he wanted that much money. Like when Sidney Poitier tried to hype Miles into doing the sound track for some movie, he told Miles not to worry about the money because the movie would make Miles famous.

"Man," Miles answered, "I'm already famous!

Miles was a big influence on Jimi. Miles is a teacher, but Miles learned something from Jimi, too. Miles learned something about rhythms and something about phrasing and something about the rock and roll lifestyle. It was Jimi who became the final inspiration to move Miles to renounce the classical forms of jazz, many of them created by Miles himself, and to start playing the rock halls. Miles knew how to stay as young as any kid. What Miles wanted to find out was how come a kid like Jimi could make fifty thousand dollars in one night when Miles still couldn't make ten thousand.

* * *

It had been nine years since Jimi left the vast green valleys that had sent him off in search of a home he could not find and now his remains were back amid the airplane factories, the strip mine quarries, the salmon canneries, the steel mills and the breweries that had tried to trap him and keep him...


* * *

Steve Paul was on the plane, Steve, the underground entrepreneur who had once run the Scene at 46th Street and Eighth Avenue, New York's most outrageous cellar rock club. Steve, host to the stars, had become a friend and confidant of Jimi's through the long, hangout nights at the club, where Jimi used to get so drunk and drugged, he couldn't stand up any more, and still he'd get onstage and jam till dawn. Steve was on the plane with guitar star Johnny Winter, the Albino Whisper, a tender, quiet, bashful sweetheart until he starts picking those Texas roadhouse blues. Steve and Johnny were married in the music business sense. Steve was Johnny's manager, guiding him to the big-time, Mr. Yokel and Mr. Brash.

And then there was John Hammond Jr., who had hired Jimi to play in his band in the Village way back when. It was while Jimi was playing with Johnny Hammond in the Cafe Au Go Go, that Chas Chandler and Michael Jeffrey first laid eyes on the spectacle of Jimi wasting a guitar. Chas was a big star then, one of the Animals. Mike was the Animals' manager. It was from Johnny Hammond's band that they lured Jimi away to England to become the Worlds' Next Superact.

* * *

Jimi had become one of the greatest stars ever to make music, one of the sweetest poets ever to make the language dance. But back in Seattle all they could bury was the memory of a little black kid who used to play on his father's two-stringed ukulele...


* * *

On the plane it was like a party. It was a party. We were all Jimi's invited guests, flying First Class according to his wishes as expressed by Mike Jeffrey, Jimi's manager, in collaboration with Mike Goldstein, Jimi's press agent. We seat-hopped all the way to Seattle, with the two Johnnies getting off on getting to know about each other and me tap-dancing between Steve and Miles, the Black Prince, who was holding court at the table past the airliner's galley. I guess the real reason I talked Miles into coming was because I loved him, too. I wanted his companionship. When we got to Seattle, Steve, the two Johnnies and I went to the Hilton Inn at the airport, a motel, where Jimi was paying for our rooms. Miles grabbed a limo to the Washington Plaza, the brand new glass, steel and granite showpiece in the center of town, where he checked Vinnie, Jacki and himself into a luxury suite. He said he'd pay for his own rooms.

* * *

At the Dunlap Baptist Church on broad Rainier Avenue in south Seattle, Mrs. Freddie Mae Gautier, a woman Jimi knew well enough to call Mom, presided at the services. She read from Jimi's liner notes on the Buddy Miles album, "Expressway to Your Skull":

"The express had made the bend, he is coming on down the tracks, shaking steady, shaking funk, shaking feelings, shaking life...the conductor says as they climb aboard, small we are going to the electric church, the express took them away and they lived and heard happily and funkily ever after and---uh---excuse me but I think I hear my train coming." ...


* * *

At the motel, our party from the New York plane was amalgamated into a bigger party. There had been other planes from L.A. and London and even Barry Fay, Jimi's promoter in Denver, had jetted in for the mourning. All of Jimi's sidemen were there, all the roadies and managers who had ridden his express, all the little people along the way, like myself, who had given Jimi whatever breaks they could, the flagmen of his career. Even Nancy, Mike Jeffrey's ex old lady, who loved to draw. Jimi hadn't passed her by either. In the end, he wrote her letters. His first album after he died had her drawing of him on the cover.

* * *

In the pews were rock stars Johnny Winter, John Hammond Jr. There were also Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding, both of whom had played with Jimi in the Jimi Hendrix Experience. Drummer Buddy Miles, who also had played with Jimi, collapsed at the coffin when it was opened for the invited guests to pay their last respects. Inside the coffin, Jimi looked waxen and unreal...

* * *

Jimi wouldn't have loved the party so much as the idea of it, hosting a bacchanal on is own grave. I mean there was plenty of feasting, drinking, smoking, rapping, snorting and picking, with most of the musicians sitting in with the local rock group in the night club downstairs. But none of the girls took off any clothes in public and even the craziest of the English contingent kept their manners zipped up. Steve Paul and I had a good time day-dreaming about Miles and Johnny Winter touring together. Otherwise, we were less than the pirates we would have been if Jimi had been there, Jimi, the eternal swashbuckling buccaneer, with his plumed hats and ferocious presence, and I sometimes could even imagine a sword hanging from his wide leather belt. Not that the party was lame; but what was missing was Jimi. The biggest excitement came out of a rumor spread by Press Agent Goldstein to the effect that Paul McCartney was going to show up, due any second. The rumor turned out to be so effectively planted that the next day one of the wire service reporters sent a story out to the world saying that Beatle Paul did indeed attend the funeral.

* * *

Outside the church there was a crowd of 200, including reporters, photographers, and TV crews. A half dozen police cars were parked across the street. A dozen police motorcycles were waiting around the corner. Twenty-four limousines lined the curb...


* * *

In Jimi's absence, Mike Jeffrey played host. For Mike, this consisted mainly of sitting in a booth in the coffee shop so people who recognized his power could come over and pay their respects. Of course, aside from his power there was very little to recognize in Mike. I mean he certainly didn't stand out in a crowd, and, unless he was trying to hustle you, you'd have trouble detecting any personal dynamism from his direction. People who talk about him say geniality did not come easily to Mike except for profit. Me, I found Mike easy enough. His problem was that he suffered from an occupational hazard among music business managers known as eclipse. When you're managing a star, the bigger your star grows, the bigger the shadow he casts over you. The Mike I knew constantly seemed surprised by his success, except when he was safely within his own small circle of hand-picked friends. Mike learned early that when you're a star, nothing you say is wrong. Mike, on the other hand, would rather say nothing than say something wrong. If this made him a cold fish, it also made him a better shark. Being invisible helped Mike become a hit manager. But what he wanted most was to be recognized. At the Hilton coffee shop, everybody took a turn coming over to his booth. The party was for Jimi but it was Mike's party. Still suffering from eclipse, he presided over the festivities without ever getting in the way of them. Even beaming, he dimmed his light with the cloak in which he was most comfortable: anonymity. To turn Jimi's funeral into a circus was to Mike's advantage because he had a legend to maintain for profit. Jimi still had an album or two in the can and maybe a movie. Jimi was dead but he was still product. I never doubted Mike knew what he was doing. For him the party at the Hilton may have been his finest moment. A year or so later he went down in an airliner that fell into the sea off the coast of Spain.

* * *

Alongside the coffin were a dozen floral sprays, including one six-foot white and lavender guitar made up with velvet strings. The family had chosen Dunlap Baptist Church because Jimi's nine-year old stepsister, Janie, was a parishioner there. Janie, in fact, was the only member of Jimi's family who went to church...


* * *

In the morning I took a cab into the center of the city to meet Miles in his suite at the Washington Plaza. Miles always travels First Class. He had sent Vinnie on ahead to the Hendrix house in south Seattle to fix up the family's hair-dos for the funeral. Miles will give you his last buck, too, if he cares for you. We sat and had breakfast and then Miles dawdled as he dressed. He was almost ready by the time the chauffeur got back from taking Vinnie to the Hendrix house. On the ride there, we talked about how Seattle runs at a pace 20 years behind New York; it felt as if we were back in the '50s, maybe even the '40s. It was a comfortable town, but you could see where it could get boring. At Jimi's father's house, a small, gray, one-family home in a mixed residential district, I couldn't keep track of all the members of the family I was introduced to. Jimi's father looked just like Jimi. And Devon was there. Devon, one of the most gorgeous women I had ever seen. Devon was one of Jimi's girl friends. dressed in black with a black veil over her face.

"Are you playing the merry widow already?" Miles asked her.

* * *

James Marshall Hendrix was born in Seattle on November 27, 1942, to James Allen and Lucille Jetter Hendrix. Mrs. Gautier read from the church podium: "His mother preceded him in death...Jimi, as he later became known to all his fans, felt that his hometown did not afford him the outlet to express himself with his musical ability....


* * *

Devon was the closest thing Jimi had to an old lady. He left her a widow's pension in his will. She was one of the most beautiful and sensuous of the groupies and one of the most successful, too. I first met her in the '60s when she was hanging out with I forget which superstar, but whenever a rock hero came to New York, the chances were you'd find Devon in his hotel room. They used to recommend her to one another. Her sex was overwhelming. Somebody once told me she was a teacher and I used to wonder of what. In all the times Devon and I talked to each other, we never really got to know what either one of us was all about. We would just gossip. It got to be amazing how her relationship with Jimi survived. She could never totally belong to anybody, just as Jimi couldn't, but somehow they came to depend on each other. I saw her a few times after Jimi died. She had so spectacular a face and body that she could have charged money just for people to look at her. She was hard not to notice and not to love. I was writing my POP SCENE column for the New York Post in those days and she kept asking me, "When are you going to write a column about me?" And I kept saying to her, "When are you going to do something?" I think it was in March of 1972 that she took an OD and died.

* * *

On the podium Mrs. Gautier read from a poem sent anonymously by a student at Garfield High School, where Jimi had been kicked out for sassing a teacher who had become annoyed because he was holding hands with a white girl. "So long, our Jimi," Mrs. Gautier recited. "You answered the questions we never dared to ask, painted them in colorful circles and threw them at the world...they never touched the ground but soared up to the clouds..."


* * *

After Jimi's funeral, I went to Monterey for the pop festival and then spent some time with Miles in San Francisco, where he was working in a club. I was backstage at Winterland with the Grateful Dead and the Jefferson Airplane when word came that Janis had been discovered dead in her motel room in L.A. I didn't know what it all meant then and I still don't know, but even as I write this there's a moth beating itself to death on the electric bulb of my lamp. And in a little plastic cup on my desk near my typewriter there are two dried out flowers, faded blue, from Jimi Hendrix's graveside. ##

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

MIRACLE's SECOND CHANCE: New White Buffalo Calf Born in Janesville, Wisconsin...

This is pretty cool.
Thought I'd share the joyous news!
We are blessed and not forgotten!
Vimala
FYI: GALLERY BLOG LINK TO LAST YEAR's JUNE 2005 BIRTH... LIGHTNING!

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MIRACLES's SECOND CHANCE: New White Buffalo Calf Born in Janesville, Wisconsin

By Stephanie M. Schwartz, Freelance Writer Member, Native American Journalists Association (NAJA) September 10, 2006 Brighton, Colorado Stephanie M. Schwartz

To see pictures, visit http://www.whitebuffalomiracle2.homestead.com

Miracle, the female Sacred White Buffalo Calf, was born on the small familyfarm of Dave, Valerie, and Corey Heider near Janesville, Wisconsin during the morning of August 20, 1994. Not an albino, she wasconsidered to be the first white buffalo calf born since 1933. An incredibly rare event.

See Miracle's Website: http://www.whitebuffalomiracle.homestead.com
Furthermore, she was perceived as an extremely sacred traditional symbol to many American Indian and Canadian First Nations tribes across the continent. The Lakota, Dakota, and Nakota Nations (known collectively as the Sioux) were considered Miracle's primary spiritual guardians and she played a pivotal role in the fulfillment of their most revered prophecies.

Tragically, and unexpectedly, Miracle died of natural causes on September 19, 2004.
However, on August 25, 2006, another extraordinary miracle occurred on the Heider family farm. During or shortly after a severe lightning storm, another white buffalo calf, this time a male, was born in the early morning hours to the Heider herd. Like Miracle, he is not an albino.

Named by Valerie Heider, "Miracle's Second Chance" is a lively, captivating, confident calf who seems to be fully aware of its special role. Mrs. Heider says she picked this name because the calf exhibits so many of the same behaviors that the original Miracle did as a calf and also because, "He looks a lot like her, too."

Even further, the herd clearly is aware of the calf's unique similarity. The Heiders relate that the herd treats Miracle's Second Chance exactly like it did Miracle by keeping him in the center of the herd, the most protected position. Additionally, the other mother buffalos step in and keep their own calves from being too rough with him.

Amazingly, Miracle's Second Chance is not from any genetic line connected to the original Miracle. He was born to a Grand Champion buffalo mother purchased in Missouri by the Heiders not long ago to strengthen and diversify their herd. The sire, an unruly and dangerous 10 month old bull, was sent to slaughter before the calf was born. There are two other buffalo on the Heider farm which are currently pregnant by this bull.

The original Miracle turned four colors by the time she was six months old (white, black, yellow, red) before finally settling into a red and brown coloration as an adult. She had begun to lighten again but her death interrupted any further color changes. No one will ever know if she would have gone back to her original white.
Will Miracle's Second Chance turn colors or stay white? No one knows. Only time will tell.

Surprisingly, since Miracle's birth in 1994, a number of white buffalo calves have been born across the country. Some were albino (not considered a true "white buffalo" per the traditional stories) and many of these did not survive. Others were not pure buffalo, reportedly a crossed-mix of buffalo and Charolais cattle or yak or other bovine. There still remain a few legitimate white buffalo calves alive today and now this new calf can be added to that list.

Although not American Indian, the Heider family came to view Miracle as a special gift which belonged to the hearts of all people. Furthermore, the land on which their farm sits has always been considered highly sacred by the region's Native American Nations, a fact respected by the Heider family.

Commercialization of Miracle was never allowed. At large financial and personal cost to themselves, the Heiders opened their Wisconsin farm to thousands of visitors, free of charge, seven days a week so that people could visit Miracle at the pasture fence. To a vast number of people of all races around the world, she came to symbolize hope and renewal for humanity and for harmony between all cultures. And while the number of visitors to the Heider farm had slowed drastically since her death, people still came to pay their respects at Miracle's grave, to honor her life and message.

Now, many will come to the Heider Farm again, to see this new white buffalo calf, Miracle's Second Chance. Even though being male means he doesn't literally fulfill the Lakota prophecies, his sex does not diminish his sacredness to the indigenous Nations. From all cultures, some people will come in reverence and prayer; others will come to do traditional ceremony while still others will come simply out of respectful curiosity. But whatever the motivation, it is quite certain they will come.

Visitors bring logistical difficulties for the Heider family. Since Miracle's death, they have plowed the parking area and turned it into a corn field. Additionally, with the passing of Mrs. Heider's parents and some of their volunteers moving away, no one may be available to open the littlemuseum/farm product shop or to accompany visitors to the pasture. Valerie spends most days at the local farmers' market selling their farm products and buffalo meat while her husband works for the Rock County Highway Department. All in all, this means the farm is no longer open all the time, at least right now.

Furthermore, after dedicating 10 years to Miracle and her visitors, the Heiders had hoped to resume some kind of normalcy to their lives and family. The shock of this birth has brought them understandably mixed emotions ranging from envisioning their lives evaporating again to a solid awe and respect at the incredible miracle and responsibility of it all.

As the difficulties sort themselves out, as they most certainly will with time, little Miracle's Second Chance remains a strong, healthy, obviously happy and rambunctious calf who delights in cavorting around the pasture and trying to play with the older calves. Oblivious to the issues surrounding him, he simply lives in the moment and brings smiles and memories to everyone who sees him. And awe. Miracle's Second Chance.

To see pictures of Miracle's Second Chance on the internet, visit http://www.whitebuffalomiracle2.homestead.com
To visit Miracle's Second Chance in Janesville Wisconsin, call Valerie and David Heider at (608) 752-2224
Stephanie M. Schwartz, Freelance Writer, may be reached at SilvrDrach@gmail.com

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

The Wisdom of Giving Up...

Life is absurd, when one truly thinks about it. I'm not sure on this, but maybe this is why people will often get WELL once they have given up and allowed themselves to die. When they realize they are dying and there is no choice and they resign themselves to it/accept it/allow it in, even welcome the inevitable, then the body sometimes spontaneously heals.

Death is the last enemy, they say. It is conquered, perhaps, by no longer being afraid of it. I like this. Maybe death is the symbolic representation of the opposites we experience all the time. Life and death. We are choosing always to live. All of survival is about staying alive. We are obsessed by it.

But what if we consider the alternative to life… or Death… and make friends with it. Admit to ourselves that death is sure to come and may come in an hour or so. Then we are truly free to live. Because rather than surviving and trying to survive, we are able to act in true harmony with ourselves. Our energies are freed up to put into other things. Let death be our companion. Our friend. MY friend. Merge with it and be fearless. Merge with it and be FREE.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

AUGUST BLUES

I wanted to post this yesterday but couldn't get online.
But here it is in honor of August and the blues she brings.
It was written by a New York POST writer who brought the sixties to life for the man on the street.
He is also author of the best-selling memoir of his life with "BOB DYLAN AND THE BEATLES."
His name was Al, and he was my friend...
Vim

ENJOY!

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AUGUST BLUES

by

Al Aronowitz
…who passed away on August 1, 2005
at 6:22 in the morning…
Ya made it Al!!!


* * *

August is the month when wars start. It is when the water dries up and the spirit begins to wither. Insomniacs pull down their shades and lock themselves in their rooms in August. Lifelong friends have fistfights. People feel like they're going to burst. Sometimes they do.

World War I started in August, or just about. The Austro-Hungarian Army began bombarding Belgrade on July 29, 1914, not quite August, but then August sometimes begins early. World War II didn't quite start in August either. A German pocket battleship anchored alongside the harbor fortifications while on a good will call to the Polish port of Gdynia let loose with a broadside at dawn of Sept.1, 1939, but then August sometimes lasts for weeks after you've ripped it off the calendar. It drags on and on like some kind of insanity that can only be snapped away by the first crisp shock of autumn.

The sailing ships used to get becalmed in August. August is when dogs go mad. American Nazi Party leader George Lincoln Rockwell was assassinated by one of his own subordinates in August. This is the month when the sale of tranquilizers goes up. Corporate executives get their heads chopped off. Groups break up. Organizations fizzle out. August is when you start seeing things. The stars fall in August. You wake to days with the feeling you've already lived through them. People pass out in the street and on airplanes. The moon talks to you. August is the month of visions.

My father died in August. It was years ago. We were all standing around him when he gasped his last breath, emaciated on a bed of cancer. My three sisters and I each kissed him on the face and cried. I do not mean to say that August has cornered the market on tragedy. You can have fun in August; people die all year around. Shall I tell you about the other night in Central Park, the sky lit by a sliver of moon, the weather air-conditioned by the first cool, abortive breath of the fall? August may end early this year.

On the park drive, bikers stood around in knots, talking about good times, holding onto their handlebars like nannies gossiping while little kids tugged at their hands. It was a better place to meet than at some bar. Outside the Schaefer Music Festival at the Wolfman Rink, couples were stretched out on the grass, some on blankets. Others walked hand-in-hand. Bootleggers hawked albums like dealers selling drugs at some pop festival. There were pretzel pushcarts and ices pushcarts and a quiet carnival feeling of the kind of romance you see in pictures of some park in Paris on a gay, colorful night.

Inside the rink, the dusk darkened slowly while Carly Simon sang her hits in her skyscraper voice, as big and strong as her New York City. Backstage, promoter Don Delsener was all dressed up for a Friar's Club meeting. Ron had been hit early by August. The last week in July, one of his security men had been stabbed to death at Ron's Who concert at Forest Hills. A day or so later, one of the backstage crew at Madison Square Garden had fallen to his death while hanging rigging for Ron's Steve Stills show. Ron himself had fallen sick the night of the show, put to bed by an inner ear infection. August is when unexplainable fevers come. Nagging aches and mysterious pains visit your body. August has to be suffered.

The night was gentle. There was no strain. I laughed out loud when David Steinberg told about how God put a fly in Jezebel's head to buzz as a punishment every time she lusted after a man. Jezebel liked the buzzing. The first girl I ever made it with was born in August. We used to break up just in time for her birthday every year. August is when the ocean dizzies you. August is when you find yourself drowning in your own head.

I went broke and lost my house in August some five years ago. It was almost August when Charles Whitman climbed to the top of the University of Texas tower and shot down forty-nine people, killing seventeen, sniping at random through the ramparts. August is when Mount Vesuvius buried Pompeii. The first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima in August. August is when Congress passed the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution. Women turn into witches in August. I remember once I refused to buy a flower from an old lady selling them in the Nite Owl on Third Street. I was managing a group called The Myddle Class then, and they were on stage. The old lady gave me dirty look and our sound system immediately went dead.

I suppose it has to do with the sun and the heat and the planets and the stars. Brian Epstein died in August. So did Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin, although their August stretched through an Indian summer. It's no accident the Jewish new year begins then. August sometimes lasts until the sound of the ram's horn. People move in September. School starts. Somehow the pulse revives. People begin to think about lighting the fires for winter. Finally, August lets go like the leaves from the trees.
And the weirdness ends.

END

-AL ARONOWITZ*

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Krishnamurti on WAR:

War is the spectacular and bloody projection of our everyday life, is it not? War is merely an outward expression of our inward state, an enlargement of our daily action. It is more spectacular, more bloody, more destructive, but it is the collective result of our individual activities. Therefore, you and I are responsible for war and what can we do to stop it?

Obviously the ever-impending war cannot be stopped by you and me, because it is already in movement; it is already taking place, though at present chiefly on the psychological level. As it is already in movement, it cannot be stopped - the issues are too many, too great, and are already committed.

But you and I, seeing that the house is on fire, can understand the causes of that fire, can go away from it and build in a new place with different materials that are not combustible, that will not produce other wars. That is all that we can do. You and I can see what creates wars, and if we are interested in stopping wars, then we can begin to transform ourselves, who are the causes of war.

An American lady came to see me a couple of years ago, during the war. She said she had lost her son in Italy and that she had another son aged sixteen whom she wanted to save; so we talked the thing over. I suggested to her that to save her son she had to cease to be an American; she had to cease to be greedy, cease piling up wealth, seeking power, domination, and be morally simple - not merely simple in clothes, in outward things, but simple in her thoughts and feelings, in her relationships.

She said, "That is too much. You are asking far too much. I cannot do it, because circumstances are too powerful for me to alter". Therefore she was responsible for the destruction of her son.

Circumstances can be controlled by us, because we have created the circumstances. Society is the product of relationship, of yours and mine together. If we change in our relationship, society changes; merely to rely on legislation, on compulsion, for the transformation of outward society, while remaining inwardly corrupt, while continuing inwardly to seek power, position, domination, is to destroy the outward, however carefully and scientifically built.

That which is inward is always overcoming the outward. What causes war - religious, political or economic? Obviously belief, either in nationalism, in an ideology, or in a particular dogma. If we had no belief but goodwill, love and consideration between us, then there would be no wars.

But we are fed on beliefs, ideas and dogmas and therefore we breed discontent. The present crisis is of an exceptional nature and we as human beings must either pursue the path of constant conflict and continuous wars, which are the result of our everyday action, or else see the causes of war and turn our back upon them.

Obviously what causes war is the desire for power, position, prestige, money; also the disease called nationalism, the worship of a flag; and the disease of organized religion, the worship of a dogma. All these are the causes of war; if you as an individual belong to any of the organized religions, if you are greedy for power, if you are envious, you are bound to produce a society which will result in destruction.

So again it depends upon you and not on the leaders - not on so-called statesmen and all the rest of them. It depends upon you and me but we do not seem to realize that. If once we really felt the responsibility of our own actions, how quickly we could bring to an end all these wars, this appalling misery!

But you see, we are indifferent. We have three meals a day, we have our jobs, we have our bank accounts, big or little, and we say, "For God's sake, don't disturb us, leave us alone". The higher up we are, the more we want security, permanency, tranquillity, the more we want to be left alone, to maintain things fixed as they are; but they cannot be maintained as they are, because there is nothing to maintain. Everything is disintegrating. We do not want to face these things, we do not want to face the fact that you and I are responsible for wars.

You and I may talk about peace, have conferences, sit round a table and discuss, but inwardly, psychologically, we want power, posit1on, we are motivated by greed. We intrigue, we are nationalistic, we are bound by beliefs, by dogmas, for which we are willing to die and destroy each other. Do you think such men, you and I, can have peace in the world?

To have peace, we must be peaceful; to live peacefully means not to create antagonism. Peace is not an ideal. To me, an ideal is merely an escape, an avoidance of what is, a contradiction of what is. An ideal prevents direct action upon what is.

To have peace, we will have to love, we will have to begin not to live an ideal life but to see things as they are and act upon them, transform them. As long as each one of us is seeking psychological security, the physiological security we need - food, clothing and shelter - is destroyed. We are seeking psychological security, which does not exist; and we seek it, if we can, through power, through position, through titles, names - all of which is destroying physical security. This is an obvious fact, if you look at it.

To bring about peace in the world, to stop all wars, there must be a revolution in the individual, in you and me. Economic revolution without this inward revolution is meaningless, for hunger is the result of the maladjustment of economic conditions produced by our psychological states - greed, envy, ill will and possessiveness.

To put an end to sorrow, to hunger, to war, there must be a psychological revolution and few of us are willing to face that. We will discuss peace, plan legislation, create new leagues, the United Nations and so on and on; but we will not win peace because we will not give up our position, our authority, our money, our properties, our stupid lives.

To rely on others is utterly futile; others cannot bring us peace. No leader is going to give us peace, no government, no army, no country. What will bring peace is inward transformation which will lead to outward action. Inward transformation is not isolation, is not a withdrawal from outward action. On the contrary, there can be right action only when there is right thinking and there is no right thinking when there is no self-knowledge. Without knowing yourself, there is no peace.

To put an end to outward war, you must begin to put an end to war in yourself. Some of you will nod your heads and say, "I agree", and go outside and do exactly the same as you have been doing for the last ten or twenty years. Your agreement is merely verbal and has no significance, for the world's miseries and wars are not going to be stopped by your casual assent.

They will be stopped only when you realize the danger, when you realize your responsibility, when you do not leave it to somebody else. If you realize the suffering, if you see the urgency of immediate action and do not postpone, then you will transform yourself; peace will come only when you yourself are peaceful, when you yourself are at peace with your neighbour.

Taken from:
THE FIRST AND LAST FREEDOM
by Jiddu Krishnamurti

Friday, July 07, 2006

Discussing / Debating / Arguing Ourselves to Extinction?

Something to "think" about [or should I say, something to make all the gardening go easier!]...
Happy Summer!
Vim

-------
"There is too much discussion in modern society.
Discussion is not solving our problems – discussion itself has become a problem – a gigantic problem.

A society that does mental work will discuss itself to destruction [extinction]

A society that does mental work will argue itself to destruction [extinction]

A society that does mental work will debate itself to destruction [extinction]

A society that does mental work can never stop discussions / debates / arguments – it is impossible.
It will discuss / debate / argue till the last moment of it’s existence.

Discussions / Debates / Arguments – these are creations of a society that has switched-over from physical work to mental work.

Discussions / Debates / Arguments – these are diseases of a society that has switched-over from physical work to mental work.

Discussions / debates / arguments can end only in agriculture-based societies that do physical work.

We cannot do physical-work and mental-work simultaneously.

There is an inverse relationship between physical-work and mental-work.
If one is high [more] the other has got to be low [less]

If we want to do physical work we have to reduce mental activity by the same proportion.
If we want to do mental work we have to reduce physical activity by the same proportion.

There is very little discussion / debate / argument in societies that do physical work - ie, agriculture-based societies - And this is the reason why they are millions of times saner than industrial societies."

Monday, June 12, 2006

FYI: Leonard Peltier Freedom Walkway




"If you've come here to help me, you're wasting your time.
But if you've come because your liberation is bound up with mine,
then let us work together."

--Australian Aboriginal Elder Lilla Watson
to
Harvey Arden

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Life in the Holodeck...

I have observed that things only have meaning when I give them meaning. There is no inherent meaning in anything. There is no task. No duty. No goal. Everything just is. I play with it however I choose to play. I can play victim… or victimizer… or victim-free. Saved... lost... or salvation-free. It is a pathless land. No authorities except those I choose to create. No walls. No bars. No chains. Just movement. Freedom.

The dark things like murder exist because the awareness of that freedom is dimmed. People fight to get out of holes they think they are in but are not. Nothing is around us except what we focus on or choose to see. We can play our lives however we choose to. We can make ourselves miserable. We can surround ourselves with disappointments… with pain… with sufferings. We might even find a way to soar.

When we get overwhelmed it pays to step back and observe the whole circus that lies before us and within us. All the constructs and mental gymnastics we go through to manipulate the outcomes. All the situations we drawn to ourselves. All the patterns and cycles we run through and refuse to SEE, let alone release. We are master puppeteers. All of us. Our refusal to look and see this about ourselves is perhaps the greatest trick of all.

Make a list of all the little tricks we play. You will notice the absurdity of much of it, but stay free of judgment. This is life in the Holodeck. Nothing is real. Not even the games we play. It CAN be quite entertaining once the real reality sets in. It can free up a lot of our overly-serious energy and make life a whole lot easier… Thank-you, Gipetto.

Monday, May 01, 2006

May Day Gamma Ray Burst: Message from Cygnus...

SWIFT detected a Gamma Ray Burst this morning at 4:44a.m.EST.
Here is the link for the basic information:
Today's Gamma Ray Burst

The points of origin of these bursts always fascinates me, especially the mythic origins. Nothing happens randomly. We have many ways of getting our own attention. So I stop to ponder and here's what I see.

GRB060501A originated within the constellation Cygnus. Cygnus is the Swan. It is also referred to as the Northern Cross. Basic info on Cygnus is at this link among others:
Cygnus

The most fascinating connection I'm making regards lyrics of two songs/epics by the band Rush.

Here's a summary:

In the constellation of Cygnus lies a mysterious black hole that is simply titled "Cygnus X-1". An explorer aboard the ship "Rocinante" is curious about the black hole as it draws him in ("The x-ray is her siren song..."). Eventually, the pull of gravity is too great, and the explorer is sucked into a mysterious land.The traveler finds himself in a world caught up in the struggle between Heart and Mind. The logical thinkers are led by Apollo and the emotional people are ruled by Dionysus. Apollo has his people build cities and explore the depths of science and knowledge, but Dionysus lures many of them into the "forests" and provides love, which many felt that Apollo's society was missing.

Civil war breaks out as the two different ways of life clash. This leads up to the point where the Rocinante spins through the black hole of Cygnus X-1 and into this mysterious land. When the explorer (now referred to as a "God") enters the land, he notices the fighting and becomes upset. At this point, the explorer has become invisible with no physical mass at all. Troubled by all the fighting, the "spirit" of the lost hero lets out a silent scream, which is felt by the warriors. This causes the people to cease their struggle and unite together. The explorer is regarded as a hero, and is deemed "Cygnus, the God of Balance" for his arrival that brought the two sides together.

Although the storyline revolves around this science fiction world, it uses Greek mythology to explain the double meaning. Cygnus X-1 is primarily about the discovery of two conflicting ways of life, and two vastly different ways in which the human mind thinks (logic and emotion are separated into separate sides, or hemispheres, of the brain). The balance point (Cygnus) allows the mind to think with some logic and emotion at the same time, allowing people to be analytical, but not unemotional.
SOURCE

Here are the finale lyrics:

"I have memory and awareness,
But I have no shape or form.
As a disembodied spirit,
I am dead and yet unborn.
I have passed into Olympus
As was told in tales of old,
To the city of Immortals,
Marble white and purest gold.

I see the gods in battle rage on high,
Thunderbolts across the sky.
I cannot move, I cannot hide,
I feel a silent scream begin inside.
Then all at once the chaos ceased.
A stillness fell, of sound and peace.
The warriors felt my silent cry
And stayed their struggle, mystified.

Apollo was atonished;
Dionysus thought me mad.
But they heard my story further,
And they wondered, and were sad.
Looking down from Olympus
On a world of doubt and fear,
Its surface splintered
Into sorry Hemispheres.

They sat a while in silence,
Then they turned at last to me.
"We will call you Cygnus,
The god of Balance you shall be."
---RUSH

My conclusions are always morphing, but it seems that the "God of Balance" has sent a message of sorts. May Day is traditionally a day of conflict between established forces and the common man, kings and peasants, clergy and parishoner, newcomers and native populations...Mind and Heart. Today isn't much different. Perhaps the Swan's energy calls us to awake, to reconsider, to seek the balance. Even the time of the burst begs consideration... 4:44am. I don't really know... you will have to decide these things as we all do.

Just wanted to put this out as it came to me...Would also like to hear your thoughts...
Vim

Sunday, April 30, 2006

Forget Being An American... It'll Help...

"Through nationalism you can never come to human unity, to world unity. By your beliefs, ideals, prejudices, the unity of man is ever being broken up. There must be organized planning for the well being of man, and that can be brought about only when nationalism and class distinction, with their exploitation, no longer exist. If you really felt for the whole of mankind, you would then see the immense necessity for a complete human action, which can come about only when you cease to talk in terms of nationalities, of classes, of religions."
-Jiddu Krishnamurti

Friday, April 28, 2006

LEONARD PELTIER: LET HIS SPIRIT FLY FREE...

THE GRAND FORKS HERALD reports that Leonard Peltier has lost yet another appeal in his murder case of two Federal agents at Pine Ridge Reservation in 1975...

No surprises here. Would you set someone up and then let them off the hook? I know... all stories have many sides. Maybe he DID do it, but probably not... Do the facts matter? Somehow, I hope there is a parallel universe where people like Leonard Peltier are free and offering the gifts of wisdom their situations have given them. In that parallel universe, every sneaky history re-write from Pearl Harbor to Waco to 911 is out and obvious to all... and with the awareness of those stories, some sort of bizarre grace sets in, so that revenge never crosses anyone's mind. In that universe, folks UNDERSTAND TheDesperate and why they do what they do... they understand AND they say "enough". It is a place of the WideAwake... and everything's OK. Hey I can dream can't I...???
Vim

---QUOTE---

BISMARCK, N.D. - The government had the right to prosecute American Indian activist Leonard Peltier for crimes that occurred on a South Dakota reservation, a federal appeals court has ruled.

Peltier is serving two consecutive life sentences for the deaths of two FBI agents during a 1975 standoff near Oglala, S.D., on the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation. He has filed numerous appeals since he was convicted by a jury in Fargo in 1977.

In the latest appeal, Peltier and his lawyers argued that federal courts have no jurisdiction over Indian land.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

The Immigration Psy-Op... FWIW...

This is in response to the post by mailbag at RMN entitled: EMAIL FROM AMERICAN WHO LIVED & WORKED IN MEXICO-UNBELIEVABLE

Are you suggesting that you approve of this kind of scrutiny and the bribery and the jumping through hoops necessary just to make a living across an artificial "border?" Or is this sour grapes... I have to suffer, let "them" suffer too...

I am wondering if in the long run, all of this is pointless. If indeed this whole immigration "problem" is merely thrown out as a distraction from what is happening in Iran, etc., then every ounce of breath we give it contributes to "their" successful distraction attempts...

How much of what we THINK is important, actually IS important? How many of the thoughts we think are OUR thoughts, OUR concerns? Why didn't we fuss over immigration a year ago??? When did we get so hooked on it? How many of us are all of a sudden screaming "spic" at the TV news broadcasts... I know some are, for I have heard it...

This is all very sad...

Our "loyalties" may be our greatest addiction and the biggest hindrance to the solutions we claim to seek...

Perhaps we ARE our own worst enemies...

Some things I think I think,
Vim



Some Thoughts on the Immigration Thing...

This is in response to the post by mailbag at RMN entitled: EMAIL FROM AMERICAN WHO LIVED & WORKED IN MEXICO-UNBELIEVABLE
-------
Are you suggesting that you approve of this kind of scrutiny and the bribery and the jumping through hoops necessary just to make a living across an artificial "border?" Or is this sour grapes... I have to suffer, let "them" suffer too...

I am wondering if in the long run, all of this is pointless. If indeed this whole immigration "problem" is merely thrown out as a distraction from what is happening in Iran, etc., then every ounce of breath we give it contributes to "their" successful distraction attempts...

How much of what we THINK is important, actually IS important? How many of the thoughts we think are OUR thoughts, OUR concerns? Why didn't we fuss over immigration a year ago??? When did we get so hooked on it? How many of us are all of a sudden screaming "spic" at the TV news broadcasts... I know some are, for I have heard it...

This is all very sad...

Our "loyalties" may be our greatest addiction and the biggest hindrance to the solutions we claim to seek...

Perhaps we ARE our own worst enemies...

Some things I think I think,
Vim

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Ode to a TV News Anchor...

I'll apologize for this before I even get started. I wrote this awhile back after watching David Johnson anchor the evening news on a Pittsburgh TV station. It made me wonder how a person ends up reporting news. It also made me realize that all news IS bad news. Doesn't he get tired of all the blood and gore and the dark side of humanity? The underbelly of the city? Are news anchors born with a rush that must be maintained?

This is partly auto-biographical too, because my earliest memory ofthe 11 o'clock news show was on Friday nights that I stayed overnight with my grandmother. She's the one who gave me Johnny Carson, too. Three cheers for comic relief. I don't watch news shows anymore. There's enough fear and adrenaline for the predators without my contribution. Anyways, this is what it is. Take what you will from it... And remember... Good news DOES happen, even if ya have to look for it...
Vim

ODE TO A TV NEWS ANCHOR

Johnny was a baby
Not so long ago
Babblin’ and smilin’
Grabbin’ at his toes
In total isolation
Wallowing in bliss
Never realizing
The news he daily missed
No one thought to tell him who was
Killed and arrested
Killed and arrested
There ain't any good news anymore

Johnny’s world got bigger
At Grandma’s Friday nights
News show at 11
Faces big as life
His little heart a pounding
As sirens pierced the night
And Grandma’s snowy TV screen
Brought the world to life
Listen
And they’ll tell you who was
Killed and arrested
Killed and arrested
There ain’t any good news anymore

Now he’s off to college
Pencil on his ear
Tablet in his pocket
He’s got a new career
Suzie won the contest
Panthers won the game
None of that for Johnny
Borders on insane
Listen
And he’ll tell you who was
Killed and arrested
Killed and arrested
There ain’t any good news anymore

Now he’s hit the big time
Wears a suit and tie
Sitting oh so pretty makes me wanna cry
Shuffling his papers
Ever in the know
Cuz Johnny’s now the Anchor
On his own TV news show
Listen
And he’ll tell you who was
Killed and arrested
Killed and arrested
There ain’t any good news anymore

Monday, April 10, 2006

Our Two Most Important Investments...

I cannot remember who wrote this or said this. It has been many, many years since I heard it. But when asked what the most important investments are that a person can make in light of the coming changes and economic instability, the answer that was given was this:

The two most important investments a person can make are:

1.) KNOWLEDGE

2.) TOOLS

Learn how to DO things. And buy the tools you need to do them. Not everyone can buy silver. Not everyone has cash on hand for gold. But when plumbing goes bad, the man or woman who can fix a leak will be the millionaire. We will be bartering for services some day... probably sooner than later. But if we KNOW things, like how to grow medicine, bake bread from scratch or how to fix a car engine, then we will have something valuable to trade.

It isn't only about precious metals, although by all means, go that route if you can... But it is also about learning a new way of functioning in smaller networks. Make a list of everything you know how to do. Make a list of the tools you have to do it with. Buy what you need while you can. And then be willing and ready to offer what you have to the people around you.

And above all, don't panic. All the elements are present. They will rearrange a bit and then proceed. We are all important cogs in the new wheel... remember that!

Yours,
Vim

Friday, April 07, 2006

Read It Here! Gospel of Judas...

I grew up in a religious tradition that insisted the Bible to be totally inspired and complete. I often doubted it. And asked of those supposedly 'in the know,' "but what if more scriptures are discovered, and they say something different?" I was assured it would never happen... all that being said with the Nag Hammadi lying around being translated/published as we spoke. And now the Gospel of Judas surfaces. I'm delighted! I'm sure my professor is mortified... Oh well. Bring on the gospels.

For a full treatment of the Gospel of Judas with some great links, check out Michael St.Clair's post over at RumorMillNews... Here's the link...
SPIRITUAL THRILLER: TRUE JUDAS GOSPEL PUBLISHED
To read the text of the gospel, click the link below. Here's how it all begins...
Enjoy... or not.
You choose,
Vim

-------
THE GOSPEL OF JUDAS

Translated by Rodolphe Kasser, Marvin Meyer, and Gregor Wurst, in collaboration with François Gaudard

From The Gospel of Judas

Edited by Rodolphe Kasser, Marvin Meyer, and Gregor Wurst
Published in book form complete with commentary by The National Geographic Society.

Copyright (c) 2006 by The National Geographic Society.
All rights reserved. No part of this translation may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in writing from the National Geographic Society.


INTRODUCTION: INCIPIT

The secret account of the revelation that Jesus spoke in conversation with Judas Iscariot during a week three days before he celebrated Passover.

THE EARTHLY MINISTRY OF JESUS

When Jesus appeared on earth, he performed miracles and great wonders for the salvation of humanity. And since some [walked] in the way of righteousness while others walked in their transgressions, the twelve disciples were called.

He began to speak with them about the mysteries beyond the world and what would take place at the end. Often he did not appear to his disciples as himself, but he was found among them as a child.

SCENE 1: Jesus dialogues with his disciples: The prayer of thanksgiving or the eucharist

One day he was with his disciples in Judea, and he found them gathered together and seated in pious observance. When he [approached] his disciples, [34] gathered together and seated and offering a prayer of thanksgiving over the bread, [he] laughed.

The disciples said to [him], “Master, why are you laughing at [our] prayer of thanksgiving? We have done what is right.”

He answered and said to them, “I am not laughing at you. are not doing this because of your own will but because it is through this that your god [will be] praised.”

They said, “Master, you are […] the son of our god.”

Jesus said to them, “How do you know me? Truly [I] say to you, no generation of the people that are among you will know me.”

Thoughts on "The Enemy"...

The average Joe Citizen believes Arabs are the enemy…we are fighting for freedom.

The enlightened citizen believes Bush/Cheney are the enemy…we are fighting for oil.

The really enlightened believe the reptilian ETs are the enemy… we are fighting for star gates.

The liberated know that they themselves are the enemy… and are no longer fighting at all.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Some Things I Wanna Know...

When did God become a Republican?
When did the USA become the Kingdom of God?
When did a person's opinion of Bill Riley become the standard by which a person's love for God is measured?
When did God start hating Arabs?
When did they become "the devil?"
When did it become a just thing, to consider nuking Iraq and enslaving the Arab world.
When did Jesus's followers become so starved for blood?
How gallantly we "wave the banners of God while weilding the weapons of hell."
And WHY?
Why do we NEED to WIN?
Why are we so obsessed with exterior "purity?"
What do we hope to gain by obliterating our "enemies?"
Isn't the real enemy within? ...our own hatreds? ...our own fears? ...our own failures and insecurities?
We can kill off the entire population of the planet and still never come close to the truth of our pathetic selves...
We hold the key to peace in the palm of our hand...
...if we want it...

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God...

COUNTDOWN: Only Ten More Days...

Only ten more days til one of the surest things in life...at least for the moment. Times change.
Sing it George...

-------
TAXMAN
by
George Harrison

Let me tell you how it will be
There's one for you, nineteen for me
'Cause I'm the taxman, yeah, I'm the taxman

Should five per cent appear too small
Be thankful I don't take it all
'Cause I'm the taxman, yeah I'm the taxman

If you drive a car, I'll tax the street,
If you try to sit, I'll tax your seat.
If you get too cold I'll tax the heat,
If you take a walk, I'll tax your feet.

Don't ask me what I want it for (ha ha Mr. Wilson)
If you don't want to pay some more (ha ha Mr. Heath)
'Cause I'm the taxman, yeah, I'm the taxman

Now my advice for those who die
Declare the pennies on your eyes
'Cause I'm the taxman, yeah, I'm the taxman
And you're working for no one but me.

-------
Bits o' this 'n' that about Taxman:

--George Harrison wrote this. The music was inspired by the theme song for the popular 1960s TV series Batman. George loved the show. (thanks, Brett - Edmonton, Canada)

--This is a bitter song about how much money The Beatles were paying in taxes. People with high earnings pay exorbitant taxes in England. Many successful entertainers leave the country so they can keep more of their money. As a result, The Beatles - as well as The Who and The Rolling Stones - spent a lot of time in America and other parts of Europe as "tax exiles."

--Harrison: "Taxman was when I first realized that even though we had started earning money, we were actually giving most of it away in taxes."

--"Mr. Wilson" and "Mr. Heath" are mentioned in the lyrics. They are British Prime Ministers Harold Wilson and Edward Heath, who were being scorned in the song for contributing to English tax laws.

THOT: We feed the beast, we can starve it, eh?


TAXMAN

Monday, April 03, 2006

Bob Dylan & A Possible UFO Connection...

OK...take it or leave it... There are some who read here who know what this article is talking about first-hand, either by experience or observation. Dylan himself says he does not know how some of these tunes/lyrics came to him. This article mentions "The Band" too. I have spent some time with their drummer Levon Helm and he is otherworldly for sure. Read and see what you think... anything's possible:

There have been innumerable attempts to see past the artistic guise of Bob Dylan's lyrics and poetry to what underlies his genius-what the actual creative process is that results in Dylan's lyrical outpouring and what the bedrock of inspiration is that he seems to have drawn on so effortlessly for more than 30 years.

I am here to suggest an explanation that has, to my knowledge, never been previously offered-UFO contact. I base this on a fairly rigorous study of UFO interaction with humans and a listener's fascination with Bob Dylan that I began as a 12-year-old in 1970.

Let me first give some background...

---MORE AT LINK---


Thursday, March 30, 2006

For the Odd and the Thwarted: You May Be "Indigo"

There is light in this world. If you were born in the 60's - 80's [or slightly before or after], and feel like you've always been the oddball on the planet, you may be what is called "Indigo". Harships you have experienced may be part of a Dark Agenda to keep you de-activated. The website posted below offers a list of characteristics that you may be familiar with... I am posting this here as an exercise in empowerment. To know who and how we are, gives us focus and perhaps will serve to activate us into the best purpose/life we can offer in these changing times.
Vim

---EXCERPT---

These are some of the qualities and challenges that First Wave Indigos experience. Most Indigos can relate to at least 90% of this list:

~ Were born en masse between 1969 and 1987 (With stragglers before and after).

~ Highly intelligent in their "Own Way."

~ Are literally "wired differently" than other people.

~ Many have strong or unusual Psychic and Telekinetic abilities.

~ Have extraordinary levels of compassion.

~ Can relate well to children and or the elderly.

~ Many times get along better with animals and nature than people.

~ Have a bond/connection to the trees, and nature in general.

~ Creative, inventive, and very intuitive.

~ Involve themselves in human/animal rights efforts.

~ Have an innate sense of "oneness" and connectedness to all of creation. Get confused and disturbed when others don't share their reality of "at-one-ment."

~ High capacity for love, and therefore others may feel uncomfortable by their intensity.

~[LIST CONTINUES AT LINK]

~One trademark that a high % of First Wave Indigos have, is living through extreme hardships as children, teenagers, and young adults. Many were born into family situations that were physically, emotionally, spiritually and psychically abusive. These Indigos had to figure out how to balance and keep their inherent integrity levels, while being subjected to painful and life shattering experiences. A large % were inplanted in such horrendous situations as: organized crime, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and even ritual/cult abuse & mind control. It is also common for First Wave Indigos to have some kind of Alien encounters.

[There seems to be a Dark Agenda on this planet to keep Indigos from waking up and taking on the mantle of power they have inside. That is why so many Indigos have been sucked into such harsh and debilitating environments. The dichotomy is, that Indigos innately know that in order to transform the corruption, pollution, and dysfunction on this planet, you have to go inside to the core or mind of the system to know how it operates and thus how to change, alter and bust that system. Indigos came here to bring order and balance back to a planet in chaos…..and headed for distraction. I believe that Indigos are the 5th element that has come as part of "The Cosmic Clean-up Crew" to rid the planet of corrupted consciousness and physical/energetic diseases that are imprisoning, destroying and mutating all life forms here! ]

---MORE AT LINK---

Monday, March 27, 2006

Normal

how
can I write
about that
with which I have
no experience
elusive
fluctuating
I grasp
and you disappear
how I stare
with longing
at that box
into which
I will
never
fit

Death's Gate...

No wonder I am fascinated by Death
It is the portal, the vortex, the stargate
The nearer I am to it
The closer I am to me
I came from there
Will I see anyone from home?
Just one glimpse of the soup from which I sprang?
Death – gate – bridge
Death angel – knows
Knows me
Knows mine
Brings me sights and sounds of home
May I pass through?
Must I still wait?
How can anyone be afraid of you?

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

The War We Can Do Something About, But Will We?

Something to consider:

"All outward forms of change brought about by wars, revolutions, reformations, laws and ideologies have failed completely to change the basic nature of man and therefore of society.

"As human beings living in this monstrously ugly world, let us ask ourselves, can this society, based on competition, brutality and fear, come to an end? Not as an intellectual conception, not as a hope, but as an actual fact, so that the mind is made fresh, new and innocent and can bring about a different world altogether?

"It can only happen, I think, if each one of us recognizes the central fact that we, as individuals, as human beings, in whatever part of the world we happen to live or whatever culture we happen to belong to, are totally responsible for the whole state of the world.

"We are each one of us responsible for every war because of the aggressiveness of our own lives, because of our nationalism, our selfishness, our gods, our prejudices, our ideals, all of which divide us.

"And only when we realize, not intellectually but actually, as actually as we would recognize that we are hungry or in pain, that you and I are responsible for all this existing chaos, for all the misery throughout the entire world because we have contributed to it in our daily lives and are part of this monstrous society with its wars, divisions, its ugliness, brutality and greed - only then will we act."

--Juddu Krishnamurti, FREEDOM FROM THE KNOWN

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Iran and the Upcoming Solar Eclipse... March 29

I received this email from my friend Sparkfx regarding the energies of the upcoming solar eclipse on March 29. I am posting it for your consideration. Be informed and be NOT afraid. These things must come to pass, but pass they will. As without, so within. We can use these times to observe ourselves and our thoughts and our own inner conflict/s. To see is to be free.
Vim

Iran could get hot this week...a friend of mine is an accomplished astrologer (vedic) I mentioned to him today I thought the upcoming eclipse could involve iran based on some of my own analysis and this is what he just sent back...

"Regarding the upcoming eclipse, it's a nasty one...besides the fact it falls on the day of the Vedic new year (meaning it'll set the tone for the whole year) the nakshatra it falls under is uttara bhadrapada, symbolized by the funeral cot. Of course this portends continued losses of life through war, famine, and natural disasters, and the negative effects of rainfall and agriculture in various parts of the world--and it's one of a set of nakshatras called “the scorching pair,” so I expect to see fire involved, too.

"And this eclipse falls at 14 degrees Pisces, which puts it in an exact conjunction with the Moon of Iran. So this likely brings Iran to centerstage in terms of world politics...could very well be the way you see it!"


From my view I see the Pluto/Galactic Core/Hades aspect but the eclipse could be quite a trigger especially conjoining Iran's moon!!!!! Wow

Take care, Sparkfx

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

My Kind of Test...

Somebody play the theme from 'Twilight Zone' for me!
Just killin' time and dabbling in the mystical.
Check out their site...
if you DARE!;-)

take the psi-q psychic test yourself

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Thoughts at a Lunar Eclipse...

In this confusing world, perhaps the better question to ask is NOT 'what is the answer' or 'what is the solution' but rather, 'WHY do we NEED the answer/solution.' I say this because every once-in-awhile, I stop myself mid-search [take your pick on what it IS that a person could search for], and I look at myself in that searching process and it suddenly begins to look pure-silly!

Here I am, a goddess, a divine energy, royalty. And I'm here in the denser worlds rummaging around and trying things on for size and I get so engrossed [fascinating word] in this place that I momentarily FORGET who and what I am and actually believe myself to be 'lacking' in some thing or bit of information. And then I panic and go on the proverbial rampage, looking for this or that and just hoping something will fill in the gaps of whatever it is I think I've lost. I am momentarily consumed.

But then this little nudge happens and I stop for a moment and I LOOK at myself and the fog clears and I remember! The actual fact of the matter IS: We lack nothing, inCLUDing answers. Our questions are a diversion. Our research is a distraction. Our foray's into the jungle of problems and solutions and questions and information are all great things to keep us from the simplicity of who we really are.

To ask is to never know. To search is to never find. The answer comes in abandoning the search. For to SEARCH is to assume that something is lost. Right? I know it's a bit 'out there' but the whole idea is hitting me with the moon gone dark momentarily and all the energies gone to hiding at the same time. When she re-emerges, we'll see what comes to light with her.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Taking Matters Into Our Own Hands...

To the pseudo-governments of the world in any and all forms in which they appear:

You will never figure yourselves out.
You pull at us and prod and waste our time.
Always front and center.
You hog center stage with all of your wheelings and dealings and manipulations.
Nobody matters but you.
You are the big bad wolf huffing and puffing and blowing our houses down.
You count on us to watch you in horror and adoration.
You You YOU are all that matters.
But you're not.
I hope you don't mind if I walk out.
I got things to do.
All those things you "claim" concern about and power over.
All those things that never get done.
All those things you regulate and control and push us away from.
Well, that's where I'm heading.
That's what I'm gonna do.
Join me or stay outta my way.
We don't really need you.
Never did.
We can do it ourselves.
Always could.
The game is up
We’re taking matters into our own hands.
The private sector abounds.
And when you finally collapse in a heap and hopelessness, I'LL be here, I'LL care, WE'LL be helping YOU without the red tape and magic hoops to jump through.
Just stand back.
We’ll show you how it’s done.
Capiche?

Rant by Vim

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Sorrow...

“Everything is sorrow.” – the Buddha

I have tried my whole bag of tricks
Anything to make it not so
My highest joy and deepest grief
All experienced in this limitation
My joy is limited
By this body
By this life
This confinement
This sentence imposed upon my life
At the beginning of beginnings
And over and over again
Take thy God-ness
And wrap it up tight
Pretty packages
Dreadful packages
Evil and Good and Indifferent packages
And ne’er a ray of light be seen
Shining from within
Sealed off
Veiled over
Roped off am I
All is sorrow
Everything "trouble as the sparks fly upward"
Is the bag empty?
The few remaining tricks are tossed
I get it now
No need to continue
The experiment of limitation…
Designed to reveal limitation
Is a supreme success
NOW WHAT?

Saturday, February 25, 2006

A Word Portrait for 6.5 Billion...

The world's population is said to have surpassed the 6.5 billion mark today at 7:16pm EST [see article here]. Lest we get down on anyone, that's you and me that are part of that number. I heard that the planet has gotten crowded because everyone wants to be here for the big show. The transition. The end of time and life as we know it. Maybe so. If we all manage to hang on, there will be 7 billion of us by 2012. Will we get ourselves figured out by then. That remains to seen.

In honor of this great population milestone, I am posting this thoughtful poetic portrait of mankind, painted by one of my favorite writer-bloggers Gary J. Introne. Take the hand of your nearest fellow earthling and enjoy!

5. THAT SIMULACRUM OF LIVING I WITNESSED ANEW:

And just like that it was dark out and the cold winds were blowing and there was a white hoarfrost on everything and the entire scene was tinted by that white and the lame sun arose slowly like a too-heavy tomb of life encased in its own orb and the orange turned to yellow turned to white itself but a white too weak to prosper and the dead-seeming world lingered well past its prime as the depths of the day met the ice of the nights and soon enough everything was over and the entire length and breadth of creation had died and withered and rats scurried in early daylight seeking something anything new and the few birds left tried living as they’d done but found it hard and the shortness of days met the long lengths of night and the calendar itself - having drifted from joy - seemed staggered and sorry with its very own blight but along the reaches of the sour earth trailed mankind - tired and soiled and weary and done - and their souls as one all sought for the light and their souls as one tried reaching for that which they wanted (but had forgotten to ask for) and betrayed by emotions their tired heels wandered slowly amidst sorrow and danger and cold and deprivation and want - millions and hundreds of millions wandering between whatever seeking consort seeking comfort seeking all that once had made them glad but finding nothing instead but conflict and cant and the tiresome palaver of blemish and rant - FOR THESE ARE all mankind’s days and they are numbered and finished soon and as the death sinks into the earth so too do they themselves - like the shortness of days - wither and die before rebirthing again.

The Thanksgiving Story
blogged by
Gary J. Introne

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Billion-Year-Old Carbon...

There is something Mother Earth does that I didn't notice until today. She catches soldiers when they die. It isn't a bad thing. It's just that she is there. And when his life begins to end and his body sinks down, it is she who gathers him up. As if to say:
"There, now. I will hold you. I will take your blood into my Self and love it well. Lay on me and take your rest. I am not going anywhere. I will stay here 'til they come for you. I will release you only reluctantly, but when the ceremony is finished, I will hold you again in my arms. To them you were a soldier. To them you were enemy and hero. To me, you are flesh of ash and blood of dust, water and carbon, and that is all. That is enough for me. Whatever you have done, whatever has been done to you, it matters not at all. You are my child."
We walk on her day after day, and eat of her fruits. She gives us breath and protection regardless of our ideologies. We don't always notice her. But she - to the very end - notices us...

Vim

And What of the Tyranny Within...

To be considered -- another timely thought by Krishnamurti...
. . . It is a most extraordinary thing that although most of us are opposed to political tyranny and dictatorship, we inwardly accept the authority, the tyranny, of another to twist our minds and our way of life.

-- J. Krishnamurti, Freedom from the Known, p. 10

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

"Paedophile Panic: Alienation and Irrationality"

I have had this article on file for a couple of years. It points out less considered facets of the child porn issue and calls for a rational approach to dealing with offenders. It is always easier to point the finger, grab a rope, and hang people out to dry than it is to LOOK at what these issues are actually telling us about ourselves and the society we have created. I am posting quotes from this article for your consideration. As always, use your own discernment. There is more at the link provided at the end of the article. All sane and reasonable comments are more than welcome.
Vim

-------
“…Society’s irrational age-of-consent laws… are not aimed at protecting children from genuine sexual abuse, but rather at strengthening the power of adults, particularly parents, over children - thereby strengthening the flawed and often oppressive institution of the family…

“…The authoritarian, bourgeois agenda that stands behind the promoters - including of course Blair and his cronies - of the present hysteria about alleged child abusers is really directed at expunging remaining elements of youth rebellion from popular culture…

“…The reality is that child abuse, including sexual abuse, is fundamentally a phenomenon of a society where adults exercise untrammelled power over children, most often within the confines of the family, but also in some places that act as a substitute - the scandals of abuse in children’s homes are well known….

"...Indeed, what the internet is doing is bringing a painful social dysfunction out into the open, a dysfunction that has lain until now largely hidden by precisely the semi-mythical figure of the man in the dirty mac.

“…Blanket age-of-consent laws, that do not prevent actual abuse but rather criminalise consensual relationships that defy an authoritarian social norm.

"...No matter how much ruling class reactionaries howl with rage against ‘paedophiles’, this is a problem endemic to an oppressive, alienating society that deforms and stunts the lives, including the sex lives, of large numbers of people.

"...Alienated, stunted and regimented personal lives, along with perhaps previous experience of being abused, lead a certain number of people to seek easy gratification with children over whom they often have too much power.

"...Those who are unfortunate enough to be afflicted with a sexual orientation to children incapable of effective consent are suffering from a dysfunction. And of course that dysfunction has different levels of seriousness. Those whose sexuality leads them to compulsively and actively seek sex with children are no different in principle from any other kind of mentally ill person who is a danger to themselves and others: compulsory treatment in hospitals should be used when necessary.

"...It would be a damn sight more rational to treat people who merely view such material as milder sufferers from a psycho-sexual dysfunction - best treated, while respecting their confidentiality, with a view to rehabilitation - than to destroy their lives with prison, the ‘sex-offenders register’, naming and shaming, etc, in cases where no actual physical crime against another person is alleged.

“…As Rod Liddle courageously wrote in The Guardian, ‘No matter how vile we may consider the sexual predilections of paedophiles, we should not be in the business of putting people in prison for simply looking at things’ (January 14, 2003). Liddle concludes: ‘The law should be above the blind, howling, rage of Rebekah Wade’s moronic vigilantes. But there is the whiff of Salem about it all.’”

There certainly is.
Ian Donovan


Monday, February 20, 2006

For Mother Earth

Mother earth is safe
No one need rescue her
She is perfectly capable of her own release
From the fullness of who she is she moves, acts, sheds
From the integrity of her system, she purges herself
Fever, chills, sleep
Her body functioning perfectly in the circumstances that she finds herself.
Her lovers looking on
I am perfectly safe
I need no one to rescue me
I could save myself should the need arise
From the perfection of who I am I take my steps
I follow her lead
I shed what is no longer needed and cease useless functions
Sever and disconnect
I allow mother her down time
Resting and solitary
I accept my own discomfort
For her, anything
That which was upside down, rights itself
She can do no other
I right myself along with her
We don a new hat, a new role
Together, we become
I whisper my thanks to her and wish us both well

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Krishnamurti on The Violence of Obedience...

I guess the quiet ones are not off the hook. There is something in passivity that may be as deadly as a more aggressive approach to life. I like this piece by Krishnamurti. Actually, I do NOT like it, because it is just one more bright light glaring upon one of my hidden places. Oh well, this is life... to see... to learn... to know oneself well. Read this and see what you think. And if it rings true, let me salute you in your attempts to understand and bring your life back into order. Wish ME luck, too. --Vim

Have you thought about violence? There is physical violence and there is the violence of obedience--are you obeying and therefore being violent? Do you understand what I mean? When I obey you and suppress what I think, that suppression will burst out one day. So there is physical violence and violence brought about through obedience, the violence of competitiveness, of conformity. When I conform to a pattern I am violent--you see the connection?

When I live a life of fragmentation--that is, when I think one thing and say another--that is fragmentation and that also breeds violence. I may be very quiet, gentle, do all the work I am asked to do, but I flare up: which indicates there has been suppression in me. So violence is not just physical violence, it is a very complex question. And if you have not thought about it, when you are faced with violence you will react most unintelligently.


Krishnamurti
Beginnings of Learning
p. 185