Comprehensive Compassion

I gotta leave this here for now.  There's so much STUFF I have in drafts I'm daunted by my own daunt.

The Universal Citizen is the Cosmic Ideal.  I will identify the Primary Component of this Human by stealing from Buddhism's Bodhisattva Essence, that of Compassion. 

I find it savagely brutal that Compassion must be Taught.  Compassion "goes against" all Human Pre-History.  We are Animals after all, it is only Compassion that elevates us to Human Status.

Consider........


Rock Steady........Steady as We go....

Conned Text

The Problems with the American Democratic Party are multifarious and manifold.  They are, however, NOT Complex.  Since America is DIVERSE in Ethnicities you might think that it's only NATURAL for Modern Americans to be condemned to a perpetual Identity Crisis.  I aint buyin' it.  I have repeatedly and sometimes vehemently argued that We are "of One Blood", indeed, that Mother Earth is the Great Mother of ALL of Us.  Every Earth Planetarian bleeds RED.  Our Human Form IZ our "Shared Commonality".  The Problem should NOT be one of Identity but rather One of Eternity.  What SHOULD our COSMIC Goals entail ?   How do our Cosmic Idealizations reach the Streets and Gutters of Kitchen Table Venues ?  How does the Cosmic become manifested as Earth Material ? 

EVERY Human Being wants to Live in Peace and awaken in Prosperity.  THIS is the Shit that is NAURAL to Planetary Existence. 

ALL of US want Food, Water, Shelter, Electricity and most recently, Medical Considerations.  We OWE this Shit to OURSELVES.  We can't live NOW without THEM.

All the Other Shit, the Wars, the Unemployment, the Hatred, Bigotry, Corruption and Elitism, to identify but a few, are OBSTRUCTIONS to Peace and Viable Prosperity.

ANY "Path Forward" MUST confront these Obstructions with the EXPRESSED INTENT to REMOVE them.

THIS Shit is what the Americans MUST scrutinize. 

Some One has gotta "Go First" and "Lead the Way".  THIS is where America USE-TA be GREAT.

...2 tents...

My greatest adversity is locating Context, a Context that can support an investigatory scaffolding or frame-work.  Writing shit that can get from Mind to Screen aint as EZ as tapping these keys.  Political Context SHOULD lend itself for Social Scrutiny but since I am a Volcano, RAGE and FURY dominate my Sublimations, so much so, that even I think that my "Stuff" is challengingly grotesque.  Magma has ONE Essence, you know what it is.

Still, I'm driven by Ambition and Desire ~~~ not good for a Zen Swordsman.  I have a Bodhisattva Idealism that fills me with "Less than" Emotionality.  Problem with that is I am also a Zen Swordsman who is possessed by Samurai Intellectual Fidelity.  Arrogance begets Contempt, of This I suffer, and I suffer GREATLY.

I have confessed of losing my Primary Point ---that's the One that keeps you CENTERED on Self.   Every morning my Meditations unleash and set free Demon Stephens who permeate THROUGH the shields and walls of Other Dimension Strata.
I WISH I could condemn them as mere "Personas", "Masks" of Ego --but I can't.  These "Stephens" get control of my Psyche and further their agenda by writing shit that is well beyond my pathetic control.  THIS is why I take NO Responsibility for my "work".  It aint "me" and IS "me" at the exact same time.

A guy complained to his "Shrink"
"Doc" he wearied, "Some times I feel like a wig-wam, sometimes I feel like a teepee"

The Doc nodded convincingly,
"THAT'S your problem---you're two tents".

Steve DeSilva ~~ A-Bility-Goat

I promised the Universal Intelligence I would conduit Its Information when the Weather issued "Lock Down" MANDATORY Conformity.  ALL of Us KNOW about Promises, how you can make them KNOWING that their NON-Fulfillment is just a Cosmic Excuse away.  It's like the Promise you make in BLISTERING HEAT, I'm gonna make certain I get out the Chains, Jacks and Hoist to Move Rock this Winter.  Well, it's This Winter and the Chains, Jacks and Hoist are SECURELY lodged in NO-FUCKING-WAY.  "Promises Made" ~~ Promises Waylaid.

I've been experiencing some Near Death Anxiety.  It seems as if My Time In This Life has been shortened to way beyond Abbreviated.  It's Geriatric Senility gone Irrational, technically, "it" can't get any better.  Thing is, when I got BLUDGEONED by the Universe I also got HIT with the Exigency of URGENCY ~~  but where I figured to undergo a "Grand-Ma Moses" Creative Inundation, I experienced, in its stead, a particular HORROR of In-ability, the one where I question my own "talent", the One where Suspicion finds rancorous paralysis as ITS Homeo-Stasis.  I can't get anything OUT so not only do I have IN-Ability I don't even have OUT-Ability. 

I'm a hillbilly of A-Bility.  I'm a bility goat.

...the craven misbegotten...

Aint gonna be no Street Gang named The Craven Misbegotten.  Those of me who ARE a member may as well don a Message Tee that has printed on its Front,  "Make Love Not War" and on its Back "Kick Me".  I'm just sayin'.

The Final Thing, the one where I deposited the Lyric, "It's been a long time comin' / Gonna be a long time gone", refers to the "Pax Romana" the TW O HUNDRED Years of PEACE, that is now evaporative whiff from the Anus of Recorded Misery. 

It's so goddamn fucking INTERESTING that trump ALREADY HAS HIS FUCKING "WALL".  It divides America like the BERLIN WALL, but here I can vision NO Demolition, no Sledge-Hammer of Universal DECENCY, no VICTORY over POLITICAL INSANITY. 

THIS is why I train myself to Battered and Broken EVERY Work-Out Period, WHY I don't sleep beyond 5 hours every night except when I'm sick. 

We can't Give Up. 

We can't Tap Out.

Even if it takes a fucking THOUSAND years we MUST "Carry On" because "Love is Coming to us all."

Bro Philip use to exhort, "Don't let the bastids get you down."

Consider....


Rock steady........steady as we go....

"R.E.D."

I suppose I wanna get to a point where I DON'T hafta be Armed, where I DON'T hafta carry and sleep with Steel on or at my person.  I WANNA be able to "let my guard down" but it seems that when I DO, when I allow myself the lewd indecency of Vulnerability, I get HAMMERED with the Truth of Planetary Existence, the One of the First Noble Truth, "All Existence entails Suffering". 

We are at a Point of Earth Existence where we CANNOT allow our Selves to put down our Weapons of Self Protection.  THAT is my morose Melancholy, the one that Phil Collins identifies in his Ballad of Forlorn, "Missed Again". 

And here let me identify the Psychological Truth of Pallet Reclamation, the One where I use a hammer and pry bar to knock off and leverage what is valuable and useful.  I am LITERALLY "hammering out" my Understanding of Retired Life.  Isn't that the Phrase we use ?  "Let's hammer this out"  ?    THAT'S what I am doing.  Now "it" makes perfect sense.

Venez Wail Ya

That's where I was when I got inside to audit Nicole Wallace's "Dateline White House" (or some-such) 4 O'clock Class.  I was all HIGH from being HIGH and what the fuck could possibly go 'worng' ?  She delivered the usual Blither and Blather Intro but among the Political Dissonance was a rather SHARP Note on State Sec Pompeo's Clip Board.  Written on a yellow legal pad page was "5,000 troops to Columbia".  My High Heart got sucked out into the Void.  I sat stunned.  I thought ~~
 It just won't fucking END.

There is this morbid obesity of Depression :  "morbid" because of the Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's "Helpless", and "obesity" because of the MASS of "Impossibility", the One that figures "It can't POSSIBLY get any WORSE".  Piss-Poor thinking that fuels my, already, degenerative Bi-Polarity, the BAD "Pole", the One of Superior Negativity, the One that discharges Cruelty as Grotesque BEAUTY, the THAT One.

One word =  Venezuela Nam.

Columbia was the Subterfuge.

Transcendental Nothing-Ness

I loaded the sections onto the ply-wood covered frame, picked up the scraps, slivers and chunks of useless, raked the area clean and then got my Sword.  My hammer hand, wrist and shoulder were already mangled, no reason NOT to "do some Sword" and enjoy the Motion Meditation that enhances an already Rich and Flagrant Samadhi. 

In THIS particular Divinity the Sword Forms "do" YOU.  You are just along for a ride into The Paradise of Before Thinking, the Pure Land of Emptiness, and the Full of Transcendental Nothing-Ness.  In this Vacuum there is NO Breathing.  This, is an experience of EVERYTHINGALLATONCE and a Molecularization of Infinity that increases your Vision so you can Witness The Miracle of Just BEING.  Here life is Just One and I will label it    IMPACT.

In one of my college Journals there's a Description.  It was REALLY Early March and we were playing a pick-up game in the FAMOUS Out-Door But Covered Rink.  It was late in the afternoon but definitely before supper.  A goal had just been scored against me and as I was recovering I found my self staring out the West End at the Most Beautiful Sunset I Had Ever Seen On That Campus.  But then "Steve, STEVE", it was Dave Jocitas,  "We're READY let's GO".  It was like that....just like that....I was high---
so HIGH.

Pond Hockey Cocky

I got in from knockin' the shit out of a couple of pallets, recovering BRAND-NEW 2 X 4 assorted lengths.  This kind of afternoon activity FILLS me with an almost Divine Euphoria.  The weather conditions were "Pond Hockey" Perfect, meaning, 30 degrees and NO Wind, "Ideal" cuts it to its marrow :  and so there I was, Old Guy With Hammers, Crow and Pry Bars, "Doing his Thing".  The Work Site was beside the Bird Feeders and my Sparrows were feeding, (also contentedly) and the World was in this Robert Frost and E.E. Cummings PEACE.  And here it is where I MUST be so very CAREFUL that I don't get out my pen and record this..................Divinity, and by thus engaging, PREVENT myself from executing The (so-called) Demands of the Time.
I've done that.....   I get lost in a Reverie that defines me as Emily Dickenson when in MAN REALIY I much prefer the Rugged and Bull of E.E.   It's THAT and even when the Poems enter "of their own accord", there's even a TOLL levied on me for THEM.  All that Intensity beats on me the way I beat on the pallets. 

..."they got ear-phone heads"...

My Beloved Foreign Nationals must grant an old man a bit of latitude as I tag the beginning of this post with American Pop-Culture's Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's Ballad to Alliteration.  They do a song in which the lyrics emphasizes "helplessly" and "Helpless" and THAT lament was in my head when I awoke at 4:30.  ["Helplessly hoping..."]   It wasn't long and another significant surfaced, "It's been a long time coming   /  Gonna be a long time gone."  I wondered about that as I ignited the Remington Micro-Furnace and barged into the 47 degree Cave.  These morning songs that have entered and "play" in my Stereo Head MEAN that in the Over-night of Sleep, shit  has been "fermenting", (wow, maybe NOT the best word) and my Unconscious has been at work reconciling Pain and Suffering. 

As I sipped my yesterday's unheated coffee an image surfaced. I knew its Source and at that instant I decided to write.  Trust me here Kidz,  there AINT no Academic Nobility being unleashed here, nor ANY Altruistic-Ism-Ness (otherwise known as Altruism).  My body is beat up from training, swimming and wielding a mini-sledge to beat pallets into their components.  I'm not who I used to be, all this shit levies a HUGE toll.  So, rather than begin today's Regimen I'm HERE to relieve myself of Aggravation, the definition of which is BURDEN.

I'm nothing if not utterly selfish.

Pain-Gloss

I got WAYYYY too much sleep last night, despite awakening at 1:30 a.m. and getting up to check the bulk-head portal for surface rain-water entry.  Sleep and I are NOT friends.  Too much sleep imposes a form of lethargy and moronic contentment that begets a positive attitude toward The Potential In All Things, including Creative Thinking.  There's a Stephen that lives the Voltaire "Life of Pangloss", the One of Most Bitter Misery, the Happy One, where Misery is the Root and Source of All Things REAL.  Here it is where Misery and I are DEEPLY connected, I depend on Misery to "keep me going".  So it is that Moronic Contentment and Misery are at War with One Another, an incessant Conflict of Interests, an unremitting and Most VIOLENT Mortal Combat, a Combat in which there can't EVER be a "Victory", but a Combat that inflicts Self-Chastisement, Self-Loathing, and a Pure  and Utter HATRED for the Injustices of the World.

Planetarians of Earth -- UNITE !!!

I contend that the Planet is hemorrhaging Sorrow Stricken Migrants.  I contend that Democracy CANNOT be "applied" as adhesive compress or sterile bandage...it's a "Band Aid" on a bleeding artery.  We KNOW what must be done in this particular Metaphor, and that is to STOP THE BLEEDING.  Now exactly HOW that Stoppage is to be administered..."Aye -- THERE'S the rub". 

A Tourniquet MUST be applied, question is, by Whom ?

Next, Those that SEVER National Blood Lines, those Nations involved in Civil Wars, Wars that generate MASSIVE MIGRANT FLOW,  MUST be made subject to Economic and Arms TOURNIQUET.  No Money for Weapons and NO WEAPONS.

Blockades, Sanctions and the lot.  There must be NO Air Space Violations WHATSOEVER.

Machiavelli espoused that it is the Enlightened DESPOT that can Rule with Forgiveness, Grace  and Political Compassion.

Here it is where the U.N. MUST become such an One.

We have reached PLANETARY Dysfunction, why should we wait for Cataclysmal Devastation ?


Rock Steady........Steady as We go....

"...Emptiness is Form."

The Problem aint just Humpty Trumpty's Wall.   My Guy Fareed Zakaria made Special Note that Migration on the GLOBAL Scale has caused an IM-BALANCE to Planetary Status Quo, an Im-Balance that reinforces an Economic Instability that itself is ALREADY the Cause of Migration From Nothing to Something, from the Poverty of Rumania to the "Prosperity" of Italy --- from the War Ravages of Syria to the Safety and Security of Germany.  The rabid INFLUX, of the Sorrow Stricken, has caused Fear-as-HATRED to be volcanized on a Multi-National Level, the one where the Indigenous Populations FEEL as if THEY are being SACRIFICED, in an Effort, by the Political Elites to weaponize UNWANTED  and Unwarranted Compassion, the Weaponization of which, PRIORITIZES Migrants AT THE EXPENSE OF NATURAL BORN CITIZENS.   The FEAR is REAL, as is the HATRED.

Make no mistake here Kidz --- Trump's Wall is Manifestation of FEAR.  Trump's Wall is SYMBOLIC of the Neutralization of this FEAR. 

THAT'S the China Wall of It All. 

The Wall IZ Fear AND the Relief of Fear.  It's brutally Mahayana in Form and Emptiness.

Queen Rat

What is astonishingly bewildering is that trump shut down the American Government  because of a fucking FANTASY.  He deluded MILLIONS into BELIEVING that "Mexico would pay for the Wall".  Now, Payment for his Fantasy is way the fuck "PASSED DUE" and Mexico ain't gonna pay for no fucking FANTASY and America's Democ-Rats, lead by Queen Rat, Fancy Nancy, has backed king clown up against his "Wall" where They and She threaten him with whisk, wooden spatula and frying pan.  Humpty trumpty AIN'T gonna survive The Fall ~~~ (It's only a matter of Thyme.)

I NEED to Re-MIND you Gentle Readers that HATRED is FEAR.  Trumps Primal Declaration of  Incipient Cataclysm, that, "We are being INVADED", by Women and Children incites a Hatred of The Other whose Truth MUST be calibrated as FEAR.  The noxious Response, to build a Wall is, at its BEST, juvenile mental debauchery and at its Worst, adult hallucinatory debilitation. 

Trump's Hallucinatory Debilitation has manifested as HIS Shut-Down.  Indeed, the American Government is PARALYZED. 

A geriatric-fied Senilic has brought the American GIANT to its knees.

Holy Fucking WOW.

Bitch-icism

This morning I was ready, I thought, to forego my Twitter column and perjure myself with shit that I figured would pass the Bullshit Test.  I had HONEST Inclinations and I was way the fuck Over-Due with these Blogs. 

As my "ASUS" warmed this surface as the potential First Sentence, which Writers refer to as "the hook".   I must warn you Kidz, what follows is hideous.

I thought, (and please forgive the quotation marks), "You gotta wonder if there isn't some kinda Cosmic Vindictive Bitch-icism that accounts for all the Misery in the World."  This THIS scared the FUCK out of me.  I sat stunned.  I wondered if I'd gotten Everything ALL WORNG.  Did Mother Earth and her Twin, Mother Nature, have Psycho Sisters, Misery and Suffering ?,  and if so, where does the Goddess Sorrow "come in" ?   We are said to be Sorrow STRICKEN, that is, Stricken by Sorrow.  How can that be ?  How can Sorrow Strike Us, and FOR WHAT REASON ?
Isn't Misery enough ?

I can see HOW  Misery can be Anthropomorphized as a Raging BITCH, hence, Bitchicism, but The Goddess Sorrow can't POSSIBLY "know" Misery's "Infliction".
Misery can cast Cruelty as Righteous Karmic Justice, or so I could be wont to Believe.

It's just that Here, in America, it's as if Misery AIN'T Enough, Cruelty AIN'T Enough.
Somehow when the Earth's Politics are devoid of Compassion, Sorrow Herself enters. 

I ask again, How can this be ?

The Shut-Down in Clown Town

I HATE writing in the middle of the day.  It brings me back, back, Back, BAck  BACK to my Junior Year in Storrs, Connecticut, the time when I managed to get myself on Academic Probation and when Dean Lougee's Head Sec. phoned to ask, "Stephen, what's going on ?"

I recall being in Wilbur Cross Library trying to get the FIRST SENTENCE down so I could at least POTENTIAL the Rest.  I remember the Frustration, getting so freaked out that, instead of sitting and TRYING, I just gave up and waylaid to the Student Union for a 20 cents coffee and sitting THERE waiting for Inspiration to surface from the dirty detergent water they sold as "joe".  I loved every drop, toxic purgative that it was.  Inspiration did not flush out my Writer's Constipation.  Hope you can appreciate The English Major Who Couldn't Write --- ~~~~ _ _ _ ... go figure on THAT.

I feel as if I OWE my Foreign Readers, not only an Apology For American Criminal Insanity, but An Explanation of Present Criminal Political Cruelty aka The Trump Presidency. 

Understand, I was already "ON" the History Honor Society due to Dr. Ward and his "Ancient Greece" and "Ancient Rome" Classes.  But, as you Kidz know, Shit Happens.
Literally, I faced Expulsion.  I told you kidz, I'm Trump.

I was my own clown in Shut Down Town.

Ellusive Eleusis

I NEED to impress upon you Gize that it's gonna take a Some-One who can REFLECT trump AT himself.  This means a Someone who "KNOWS" what's it's like to experience VAST Nothingness, the Void - - where Love is absent and where Cruelty is the ONLY Force of Will.  Trump's "Achilles Heal" IZ his Mom.  As Fortin daggered my heart so must Someone dagger trump's. 

Understand that Marc was DEFENDING my Mom against my drunken delusions.  In this he was CHAMPION of Familial Dignity and Maternal Largess. 

Both Marc and David had LOVING Mothers.  I, on the other hand.....

It's gonna take Some-One with Street Cred and Gutter Savagery to "stop" trump.  Here it is that Purity of SPIRIT can withstand Pure EVIL.

It's gonna take Some-One with Demons, to HARNESS those Demons, and set THEM against Trump.

This aint gonna be for the feint of heart.


Rock steady........steady as she goes....

The Eleusinian Mysteries.

It MAY "be" that trump's Mom was so devastated by the death of her son that she never recovered --- or that even if she DID "recover",  it WASN'T "Enough" to offset her husband's "birth" of HIS son.  In either event, for all intents and purposes, trump did NOT receive "Female ", that of Maternal Love, Kindness, Compassion, Generosity and Commiseration, nor did he make ANY Effort to secure the Eleusinian Mysteries in the way that SOME of Us did.

It is Psychological CONCRETE that us guys treat Women in the EXACT Same Way as our Dad's "treated" our Mom's.  Hello Zeus ~ ~ ~ Goodbye Stormy.

Dave and Ginny

David and I were sittin' at the Gallogly Kitchen Table.  "Ginny" ambled in and rainbowed a "Hi Steve".  I had NEVER heard my name with such GENUINE Maternal Lovingness.  To this day, I can BASK in Gin's Rainbow Sunshine.

Listen Kidz, you may or may not know that Trump's brother, a Liberal and DRUNKEN Hippie Freak, attracted ONLY bitter condemnation from his Nazi-Conservative Dad.  When his brother died, Trump figured to replace him with AN EXACT OPPOSITE.  Here it is where trump's DAD birthed the trump that WE know as King Clown. 

You GOTTA understand that trump can't Love because IT IS FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE. 

Trump can know ONLY Paternal CRUELTY.

"Like Father, Like Son".

Believe it.

Liz and Larry

Liz and I were sittin' at the Gallogly Kitchen Table.  Larry, the Gallogly Patriarch, ambled in, spat out a "Hi Steve"- -  hawked up a loogie and spat IT out into the kitchen sink, and then added faucet water to drain it.  I looked at Liz who merely smiled and telepathy-ed "THAT'S My Dad."  I WAS INSTANTLY EUPHORIC.  "Larry" WAS MY KIND OF GUY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fortin and I were on the Pig Farm, at Battle, AGAIN, for Whatever Reason. - - -  Marc had Reason Enough to dagger my Heart.  In the Fury of Battle he Wise-ended, "Your Mother taught you how to Love."  I WAS INSTANTLY FURIOUS.  My fucking Mother did NOT "Know how to Love".  She couldn't, she never did, it was NOT in her.

Marc's ruthless attack IZ what I'm "getting at" today.  If One's Mom is the Source of Love, and if She Herself COULD NOT LOVE, what chance does any one of Us, who have had such a Mother, stand in a Hell of HER Creation ?

I told you Gize, Trump and I are NOT different, we just "ended-up" differently.

The Myth of the Birth of the Zero

Psychologists, Sociologists, Anthropologists and Political Scientists that need a Ph.D. to "get to" 7th Grader Awareness, stalwart that trump "Can't empathize with Common Human Suffering."  They never get to the WHY of it, as if his Origin of Seething is, somehow, insignificant, with regard to his ability to Cruel.  I have seasoned him as SUB-Human, admitting to the 7th Grade Axiom of Birth Perversion, "He wasn't born, he was HATCHED" ;  thereby driving him from Mammal to Reptile, cold-blooded, heartless, without a Human Brain, but instead a Ganglion Mass.  And THAT, my Fellow Earth Citizens, is me being grotesquely GENEROUS.

..."the cushioned, CRUSHING,, Silence"...

I usurp Poet Authority so that I an begin with today's Epilog.  Trump must be slain in the EXACT same "Way" as Perseus slew Medusa, indeed, as I Twittered this morning, trump is a fucking GORGON, a HIDEOUS MONSTER of HEINOUS INIMITABILITY.  Ugly CAN'T fucking "cover" it nor can Human ABOMINATION. 

I argued that trump has turned the Untied States of Amurdica into STONE "statues" of Immovable Atrocity.  Each Senator CAN'T seem to confront trump in fear of DEATH by his Twitter "Gaze".  Surely, if McMasters, Kelly and Mattis STEADFASTLY REFUSED "Battle" --- If these COMBAT-HARDENED Warriors can-NOT find the Patriotic COURAGE to engage "trumpusa", how is it that WE, "mere Mortals, can stand even a Snow-Flake's "chance" in trumpusa's Hell ?

The Gallitan Street Sequence

Listen Kidz, this Hole Shit about trump and his Inhuman Cruelty, it has Origin THROUGH his Mother.  When you see and hear Others speak out against trump its always ABOUT trump and NEVER about his Mom.  You Kidz in your Nations, if you haven't accessed my Twitter account for a Daily Mind Feed, you my not know that I haven't been myself as of Late.  I have presented the aspects of Various Selfs, "Personas" if you will, that can "cover" any explanation as Ego Adaptation.  Thing with THAT is, I can't get control of this keyboard as the same Person every day.  I have vomited Rage and Bitterness, the Worst Possible, because THAT particular Stephen is like a fucking Wounded Animal, bleeding all over EVERYTHING and HOWLING at the Moon in Scorn, Contempt,, Rage,,, and FURY.   THAT Stephen can't write for shit, rather that's ALL for which he can write.  When HE gets control of the keyboard he breaks open Hell and forces it OUT.  Don't get me started on Steve the Volcano.

...moving wheels...

I begin my swim at the U.R.I. Natatorium with a 200 I.M.   The first 50 is Butterfly and at 67 I'm sorta "happy" I can still manage that distance.  Fly ain't EZ  but as Fortin plunged, "It's the only way to leave the shore".  Just so you know, there's NO "joy" in doing one lousy 25 yard length.  Shit - - -ANYBODY can flounder a 25 Fly --- the 50 makes it REAL.  I gotta confess the last four strokes are CERTAINLY drown-worthy... so --- there's THAT.

My story has relative value.  I was sitting in the parking lot at R.I. Import looking at the "Want Ads" and I saw "Aquatic Director / Swimming Coach".  Could it be real ?
I swam AT Seekonk High School and then AT U.Conn. ;  but I swam FOR Coach Meyers and then FOR Coach McDevitt.  I knew the Pool.  I was also a Water Safety Instructor out of the American Red Cross, moving wheels was bullshit, shit, I had a College Degree ---  I mean why not ?

THAT'S the Point.  I had skills and experience that could be utilized to get OUT from Drudgery and INTO more hospitable climes.  THIS is what I want to impress upon you Kidz.

My Hero, Robert Pirsig, blazes, "You look at where you're going and where you are and it never makes any sense, but then you look back at where you've been and a pattern seems to emerge.  And if you project forward from that pattern, then sometimes, you can come up with something."

That's what I am trying to say.

"Bruce Almighty"

I had an elaborate "set-up" to impress on you Kidz the Nature of Past as Future,  that activities in which you excelled in your Early Life MAY lead you to a Specific Career in which your Mind and Body are in glorious Harmony with your "work" --- a Harmony that, be definition,, removes the drudgery from Necessity and affords a Welcome-of-Well-Being in Drudgery's Stead.  It's a Harmony that makes you WANT to get to "Work".  Here, Work becomes an expression of WHO YOU ARE, as an Individual in the Milky Way Galaxy, an Entity of the Universe, a Universe which is PROUD to have YOU as Its Example of Human Sanctity.  Bruce Joslin once gushed,
"I HATE the weekends, I can't WAIT to get to work on Mondays".  I must confess I wanted to shoot him DEAD on the spot.  No one should be capable of that kind of Mindless Joy-full-ness and Exigency Exuberance. 

Aren't we born to Suffer ?

How Now Frown Scowl ?

I don't think we have a grasp of "Futility".  Recently, as in every morning, I must fight my way passed Ridiculously Futile in order to position myself in front of the screen and keyboard.  This activity makes sense ONLY as a self-indulgence ---any "Result" is obscurely ancillary.  This "self-indulgence" becomes luxury and at THAT point, something to be avoided IFF I maintain an orientation of philosophical asceticism, to keep to myself and mind my OWN business.  In the end, who am I to impose MY opinion on the Un-Suspecting ? 

I wrote that paragraph yesterday.  I didn't think I would return today nut "Futility" is grating my nerves and corroding my bowels.

I'm no longer at "Failure and Frustration",  I've "gone over" to the Dark Side  Rage and Bitterness.   That SHOULD be a "Happy Place" for me, since one of my Olden Goals was to BE as cantankerous, irascible and acerbic as I could POSSIBLY be.  I longed for the freedom to be an Old Man so that I  could NOT be held to ANY Moral Standard - - - to be free to harass and harangue everybody, everything and every Human Condition.  I gotta confess, it AINT "workin'-out" the way I had lovingly anticipated.  My own Misery which has embraced and cradled me in the Past, is now so wrought with ambivalence I can no longer take ANY pleasure  in my own Misery.

I know how it happened and I HATE the Why.

"Something under the bed is drooling"

I had a Student who the Other Teachers fear-ed.  He was purported to be Autistic and therefore a Challenge.  I mean, he was certainly "exceptional" but his kind of Autism was MY kind of Autism and so I WANTED to be acknowledged by him.  Here's the Deal with that = = = ... .  His Classmates acknowledged his "Exceptionality",  they didn't fuck with him when he got up and moved about the room and looked over their shoulders which caught me "off guard".  His classmates were comfortable with his Presence even though he cocooned them in his Energy Vortex of WTF.  It was some sort of Inter-Dimensional Miracle. 

Listen Kids-- He had those "Far-Away Eyes" that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards lyric-ed.  He deflected Direction somehow,  he used his ENERGY not his Vision as Diffusion --- I didn't know anybody could DO that.  I wanted that, I wanted to be IN with him.

I decided to speak to him in Spanish.  You read that rite.  It WEIRDED-out his Classmates but I got him to SMILE. 

That was IT ---  I was IN.

One day as he passed me in the corridor -- I felt a something get placed into my hand.

It was "sticky note" on orange paper.

"Mr. Jones lives 50 miles away from you.  You both leave home at 5:00 and drive toward each other.  Mr Jones travels at 35 MPH and you travel at 40 MPH what time will you pass Mr. Jones on the road ?"

Beneath that was, underlined,    "Something under the bed is drooling".


Rock steady........steady as He goes....

Stand Clear

When I write The Bible of Life I may use "Shit Accumulates" as the FIRST Cosmic Observation.  I may follow that with "Don't 'get behind' on the EZ Shit."  I DON'T know which one "comes first".  I DO know that trivializing EZ shit leads to MONSTROUS Disasters, the ones where IMPOSSIBLE hits you with NOW-YOU'RE- FUCKED !!!  The Relief is found in [ALWAYS] "Stand Clear".  "Stand Clear" is my Work Motto.  My Dad helped me assemble a Minute Man Rocket.  I thought we were done when we were finished, nope--- there were Decals.  On this Minute Man Rocket, hear the bottom, near the exhaust ports, but still on the Fuselage, there was on a white background the black letters Stand Clear.  It made no sense to me.
It made sense ONLY if the Rocket were about to be launched. 

It makes sense to me NOW.

The VERY BEST Carpenters ALWAYS have a container for useless scraps nearby or at hand.  They ALWAYS want clear pathways to their work location.  There AINT gonna-be NO tripping, no falling no nail through hand Emergency Room Jet.

Same with Wood Cutters and Rock Movers. 
"Keep a Clear Mind" MEANS Keep a Clear Path---Stand CLEAR.

I cannot describe the IMPORTANCE of this "Decal".

Believe It   I do.

See Changes

Listen Kidz, there's even a Ritual for Ritualizing.  When I want to Move Rock I begin with KNOWING the Day is gonna be HEAVY, WHETHER, and WILD.  I begin with The Ritual of Site Preparation, the 1st "site" being my Mind, OBVIOUSLY.  This Ritual of Site Preparation is-gonna be found in the Gospel of Rock Moving under the Heading  Site Preparation is Sight Preparation.  It's weird that you gotta make certain you get yourself ready TO SEE.  The sight you have when you aren't carrying anything is   NOT  the Sight  you NEED when you are managing 20 pound jacks, a pail of 5/8ths chain and the 30 lbs Lug-All.  I've tripped and fallen because of Full-Sight Blindness.  It wasn't "Pretty" -- it WAS Pretty-Fucked-Up. 

ANY "Beginning" begins with a "Beginning" Ritual.  Folks invite, "Jump in, the water's fine."  DON'T DO IT.  Check to see if the water has depth.  Do THAT first.

The Ritual of Beginning SHOULD-BE soothing.  It you begin with Complete Acceptance of The Task At Hand, it bodes WELL for what-ever Action follows.  You gotta Prepare for Being Prepared.  THAT can get acidly involved.  There's NO escaping this "acid".  Things are insanely heavy because they are insanely HEAVY.  It ain't like you can afford to waste your time trying to devise Lightweight Lead or Plastic Steel.  THAT measure is its OWN Suffering, we can save IT for later when we are exhausted from some BULLSHIT AGGRAVATION.

Sing A Song Of Sting String

It aint as if I can DE-Mystify Mystification either, nor do I WANT to - -  the exact OPPOSITE in fact.  The WHOLE Point of Mystifying Task-as-Meditative-RITUAL is to expose "The Teaching" as REAL and SEVERELY Simplistic. 

The WHOLE-POINT is to get you Kidz and you Folks to undertake the day's activity as a "Religious Endeavor" but as in "The Religion of Self"--- by definition it is the RELIGION of YOUR Devotion, the Devotion TO Your Self ---the One where Self- Worship IZ the Commitment to Peace Of Mind, the One where you can experience ALL of what Life "sends" you as Illumination of Universal Truths.  Understand that YOU are your own GOD.  Not only do you Create Your Place here on Earth, You Create your own Earth.  Since, "We act according to the way we see things" it's best to CONSTRUCT Those Things In YOUR Self-Image . 

Here, "Peace of Mind" MEANS a particular Satisfaction of Effort, an Effort whose Result is not only Human "Affirmation" but COSMIC Validation as well.  Basically we want a Stillness of Mind and Heart, the One where "Stillness is Bliss", according to Zen Quantum Mechanics.  Don't be mis-carried-away.  Stillness accords MOVEMENT.  But it's "more-like" Ocean Stillness, the Stillness of Unceasing Waves.
Here, the Ocean Stillness accords to Cosmic Vibration, as though Cosmic Forces VIBRATE the Ocean to generate Its Waves. 

In my Ocean, we exist as Vibration,, we are both Here and NOT Here,,, in the way that a guitar or bass string is both visible and invisible,,,, in one place and NOT in one place AT THE EXACT SAME TIME.  This is MY "String Theory".

Just hold on to That.

Zen Quantum Mechanics For The Complete Idiot

It aint like I'm eva-gonna author, Zen Quantum Mechanics For The Complete Idiot.  Back in The Day there were many several texts penned with the obtuse qualifier, "For The Complete Idiot" such as Computer Operation For The Complete Idiot, or Shakespeare's 'MacBeth' For The Complete Idiot :  there was even Idiot Shit for Mechanics, and Do-It-Yourself-ers,, although THEY were less popular to completely IGNORED.  I shy-ed away from such Texts, mainly because I was always an INCOMPLETE Idiot, where Incomplete should be spelled I-n-c-o-m-p-l-e-t  - -  can you dig it ?  Uh oh ---    Where was I ?

Idiot-hood is rampant.  To be an Idiot is to be Normal.  I cherish my role as Village Idiot.  It's NOT as if I CAN'T be Village Smot Ass,  It's just .....

I don't believe Any One is-gonna buy, Zen Quantum Mechanics for The Complete Idiot who pens his authorship with, "by, the Village Idiot".  That'd be idiotic.  TEMPTING like for sure. 

Maybe I'll author, The Red Badge of Idiocy...that'd be something.

Filthering and Laundrying

In the Gospel of Riggers there is this Necessity = "Keep things close to your body".  I had a mud-laden mini-Rock cradled by my hands and gut.  The caked soil was filthering [from the Transitive Verb, To Filther] a freshly laundered zippered hoody, my Fav Carhartt.  There would be no "second day" use - - - -  I got it to revoltingly disgusting so I doomed myself to MORE Laundrying.  Don't get me worng, I LOVE "doing" laundry.  So, I mean, there's THAT.

But here again, some COSMIC Some-things that, sure as shit,, SOUNDED important,, , that during Some-how,,,, this ergonomic SANCTITY was something of a Religious Order,,,,, the One where there is in deed and in FACT,,,,,, an Ergonomics of Emotionality,,,,,,, The One where you "Keep things close to your Heart".

BUT  There was a Cosmic "NESS" to it.  Keeping this Rock close to my gut MEANT that it was GONNA MAKE ME DIRTY.  We hear, "Dirty Little Secrets", that Secrets ARE Dirty, and/but they MUST be kept ANYWAY, because "holding them out for all to see" is UN wieldy at best, at worst ABOMINATION. 

So now I have devised the Ergonomics of Emotion.  It's gonna be in The Gospel of Riggers. 

"Sometimes, Bad is BAD"

From, The Gospel of Rock Movers there is the BIGGEST First Thing Ya Gotta Do and that First Ting is to REMOVE OBSTRUCTIONS.   When you want to move a ANYTHING over say 800 pounds, YOU GOTTA REMOVE even the tiny-est obstructions.  EVERY quarter inch MATTERS, since your crank-winch [Lug-All or come-along' turns in only half inch arcs. 

So you don't KNOW that his is a Cosmic Truth until you have a half-ton boulder chained up and you figure EZ-PZ....  Next thing you know the Crank ain't movin', you're stuck and bound up because you DIDN'T "Remove Obstructions". 

But ain't that The Deal In Life ?  You can't "get anywhere" unless and until you Remove Obstructions, those of Ignorance, Inability, Dis-Motivation and Sloth.  When I had my ROCK hung-up on a Root, I just sat there, as stupid as can be,, just "looking".  It "came" to me, [it "surfaced"], this is/was not only MY "Life" it was Every Body's Life, or so I was convinced.  That's the Deal, "Universality", COSMIC Universality--- the so-called "Shared Commonality" that BINDS Us-as-Humans TOGETHER. 

You kidz know I've been searching for those SPIRITUAL Commonalities.  I found them rite where they SHOULDN'T be, in the MATERIAL DENSITY of Every Day Task-as-Ritual.  I know, I KNOW, not Each and Every One of us has the Opportunity to "Move Rock", that iz and AINT the Point at the exact Same Time. 

The Point is to Remove Obstructions BEFORE encountering Them.  This hole shit about "Don't worry, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it" is for LOSERS and Enlightened SAGES.  It AINT for Us.  THAT'S gonna be in that Particular Gospel.

By the time you get to that Bridge it may be too late to use it, to get across or over whatever Stream of Suffering is below. 

Here it is that "Plan Ahead" aint gonna be "Enough".  Nope, you gotta be prepared to dig, and pull and tug and grunt and shovel and hack and exasperate [from the v.t. To Exasperate]. 

Sometimes "It's all good" AINT "All Good" until it's All BAD --- THEN It's all Good.

Huey Lewis and His News prophet, "Sometimes, Bad is Bad".  Believe it -- I do,

I Believe In Nothing

It ain't like I could "just Sit", have shit "surface",, and record those "surfacings" as Valid and therefore "True" ,,, or True and therefore Valid.  "Just sitting" inevitably brings me to a Samadhi of Annihilation.  I MUST be EXTREMELY wary when this Territory is encountered.  A couple of days ago I Twittered that I was bogged-down in the Swamp of Futility.  Most Folks don't know that you can float in Quick-sand, since at its Essence,, quicksand is a fluid.  It was kinda-like that for me.  Futility is kwik-sand, a One that sucks you down if you flail.  I had to catch my breath and move        S--L--O--W--L--Y.  Some of You can appreciate my "Condition" since my First Impulse is to PANIC !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  In fact, I've ordained, "When in Doubt PANIC".

I have issues.

Panic for me is ALWAYS a Metaphysical CRISIS.  It ain't "Bad Enough" that I hear Voices, I hear a fucking SYMPHONY of Cries and Whispers.  I make certain to de-contain and Un-Leash ALL my Demons - - -  I LOVE Chaos, Confusion and Err-Rationality.  There is a radical Dis-Equilibrium that generates a Sensation of Fun.  I know that reads as Non-Sense-Ical THAT'S my Point. 

There is SUPREME Order in Chaos.  Believe it...  I do.

The Gospel according to ...

I have figured out HOW I want to "package" Common Sense, Knowledge and Wisdom while stabilizing those Three Pillars with a Fourth, that of Meaning.  Jung's Alchemical Essence, "Out of the Three comes the ONE in the Form of the Four" is what I want to "Standardize", where the Holy Three now has Whole-arity-- Wholarity.  If eve you have chanced upon a 3 -Legged Milking Stool, and sat upon it, you kwikly discover it has issues - - - given the rite force it "rocks" on 2 legs, and can cause slip-off.  On a Cosmic Level, the Universe for Some is the Father, His Son, and the Holy Spirit.  This Holy Triumvirate can gain Whole-arity if the Cosmic Female were added.  Actually She HAS-BEEN added, quite Some Time Ago, and Her name is Sophia, where Sophia is translated as "Wisdom".  Sophia is purported to be "The Great Mother" CO-Creator of the Universe.  It is "said" that in Before Ancient, She was worshipped as THE Supreme.  Those Ancients do NOT exist now, rather, they exist as "Intimations of Immortality", inside guys and dolls like me. 

Sophia is NOT the topic for today.  I wish to provide "orientation", the Orientation of  "Four" as a Symbol of Psychic Wholeness in order to justify the addition of Meaning.
Meaning itself is from the Ancient Chinese, [The Book of Changes].

It took awhile but now I'm content with the "HOW".

I'm gonna make, the "Bible of Life".  I'm gonna have "The 'Gospels' according to Rock Movers, Carpenters, Painters, Wood Cutters, and the Rest of Blah, Blah, Black Sheep have you any school?" 

We are leaving Earth

I awoke "writing" these blogs this morning  - - -it was around 2 a.m. Eastern Standard EARTH Time. - - - apparently I'm ready to unload what has been accumulating as deflection, whither, and slag.  Because I am who I am, the Universe must present an alignment of opportunities, opened windows and open doors through which I can see Literary Landscapes, smell the scent of Inspiration and marvel at the Nakedness of Muse Beauty.  In other words, I've finally "figured-out" a TON of shit, and now I'm lookin' to impart said shit to youse guiz in my effort to arm you for your Upcoming Adventures in Paradise. 

A Way Long Time Ago is received a Message from the Universe - -  it was this :  "Stephen, we are leaving Earth".  I paid no mind, I DIDN'T know nor understand WTF but I held it as True and even closer as Valid.  I WASN'T  being kidnapped, I was being removed from THIS World in order to get some Distance, another View of Totality in all Its extreme Mote.  Not only could I FEEL Totality, I could see "molecules" and even ATOMS of "Continuity".  Trust me here Kidz, this ain't nothin' Special. 

Technically all this shit "is" is the "Condition" of "ON" , in the EXACT same way a light switch is turned or flicked to "ON". 

So that gag on that is simple.  I was "operating in the "OFF" Position, EVERYTHING was "a little off", I was "OFF" my Game and now, to day at 2 a.m. the Universe "aligned" and so I'm Here, Now, typing these keys, full of Enough Energy for at least a couple of hours, an "Enough" so that I can relieve my Guilt, and DIS- Ease.