Orwell's Garden

Orwell envisioned a time when all rooms would have

T.V.’s in them, mandatory, so that people were subject

to propaganda all the time. The truth, in 2012, is much

worse than that In the USA, drones will fly and spy all

over the country. The media is, in fact, a brainwashing

propaganda, fear inducing machine that has manipulated

the populace into a herd of sheepish morons. Internment

camps have been constructed to handle any stampedes.

Rights have been stripped away. All this in the country

where the greatest attempt at Democracy has failed.

“In the spring of 1968, when Martin King was marching

(and Robert Kennedy was campaigning), King was

determined that massive, nonviolent civil disobedience

would end the dominance of democracy by corporate

and military power. The powers that be took Martin

Luther King seriously. They dealt with him in Memphis.”

Jim Douglas. http://www.ratical.com/ratville/JFK/MLKactOstate.html

This is still what we need now in the USA…massive,

country wide demonstrations, boycotts, the arrest of anyone

involved in the plundering of the economy, civil disobedience

in a big way.

It won’t happen because, from sea to shining sea, the USA

is turning into a penal colony for most of it’s willing citizens,

through mind manipulation, through stress and the drugs to

treat the stress. The evil beings have done a fantastic job.

Each human has the potential for a free mind. The task now

is to not be overcome by the pressures of the Overlords. The

task now is to remain human in the face of world deception.

This is the brave man and woman's path of warriorship at

this time.

She’s Not Ashamed Of Herself

She lost forty pounds and got a

make over. High on yoga and

wheat grass juice now, she’s

shifted her priories, listened

to Tom Robbins, Depak Chopra,

Andrew Cohen and Eckhart Tolle….

some of the things she’s learned

seemed to have helped her….but

when she looks in the mirror she’s

not sure she believes what she sees.

Change

The afternoon my dad died, I was walking along a dirt road

to a building at Shambhala Mountain Center, in Red Feather

Lakes, Colorado. It was near the end of a program. As I was

walking, I looked up in the dead tree in front of me, and there,

on a branch, was an owl facing me.

I had seen the movie, “Thunderheart”. In that movie, about the

A.I.M. struggle in the 70’s in North Dakota, is an image. The

image is that if you see an owl, that means that someone has died.

Owls don’t usually come out in the day, sit in a tree and look at

you. And, yes, shortly after that, I heard that my dad had died.

It was a sign of not just death, but change. Over the next

couple of years, my relationship to the organization that I

had been involved with for thirty years would end, and I would

move to Mexico, as my teacher had predicted thirty years before.

Little Feat

One of the great rock and roll bands. I saw them in Denver,

late 80’s. My friend, D’s brother was visiting from California.

D. said to me: “We’ll take mushrooms and see a concert with

Hot Tuna and Little Feat. “ I said : ”Sure!” Also, D’s sister

was coming and bringing two of her friends as blind dates

for D’s brother and me…..”Sure!”

We took the ‘shrooms at D’s house and picked up the ladies

in Denver. The moment we were walking into the concert

venue, Fiddler's Green, al fresco under awning structures, the active

ingredient became active. The ladies that D’s sister brought

seemed to have an agenda. The petite one immediately latched

on to D’s brother. The other, lanky, not unattractive, was left

to see what she wanted to do with me.

When Little Feat came on, the drug really kicked in. I was

having trouble handling the waves of hallucinations, my

perceptions were melting. The music was a fantastic reverence

point…”I’d Hate To Loose Your Love.” Yes…I was talking to

my own mind at that point.

D’s brother got up and left to the bathroom. At that point, the

audience was on it’s feet…everyone was dancing…except my

date. I couldn’t care about anything except surfing the ocean

of my mind. After several songs, D’s brother hadn’t returned

from the bathroom. My date said “What happened to D’s

brother?” I said; “Well, he’s high as a kite on mushrooms and

it might take him a while to find his way back here.” She says:

“And he’s driving us home?” I shrugged my shoulders and

kept dancing. After a while longer, D’s brother returned. As

soon as he sat down in his chair, the petite brunette jumped

into his lap and started making out with him.

I started talking to a woman sitting next to me….not my date.

I knew she was a Buddhist, but I had never spoken with her

before. I poured my heart out to her about my relationship

with my daughter, and cried and cried. She took it all in

quite well.

After the concert, we all gathered outside. It was obvious the

brunette was taking D’s brother home. I was told I was

welcome to take my date home, but I declined.

My Career

I realized that I had to make a living…that my interest in

Buddhism was not going to mean money. I was staying in

Boston when I had the brainstorm to become a plumber. There

were too many carpenters, and I didn’t want to work with

electricity because you couldn’t see it and it could kill you.

Not many people want to be plumbers. And I figured I could

help build meditation centers. I figured my teacher’s students

would all want to become teachers and be important. I thought

he probably wouldn’t have many plumbers as students. I was

right.

And it was great training. My mind, at the time, was spinning

like a top…and I lived in a constant state of paranoia. Working

at plumbing, being in my body, constantly coming back to the

work…which was totally non-conceptual….was very much

like practicing mindfulness meditation, (shamatha).

My dad would have put me through graduate school…first he

suggested law school….then he suggested grad. school in

theatre, but what he didn’t realize is that had I gone that route,

I probably would have blown my brains out in a few years.

Luckily, by that time, I realized I had to figure things out for

myself.

So, I never made very much money as a plumber, but it did

what I thought it would. It allowed me to participate in the

world of my teacher to an intimate degree. It allowed me to

make a living. And it was an important aspect of my Buddhist

practice.

There are plenty of stories. The second apprentice job I had

was with this company in Boston, a partnership where one

of the partners had died, and the one that was left behind was

watching his company slowly fail. So, to compensate, they sold

stolen goods and pornographic movies out of the basement. One

morning, one of the plumbers came to work soaking wet. He had

just climbed out of the Charles river….evidently, his car wasn’t

able to do so. For some reason, I was assigned to work with

him that day. We went to the big job he’d been working on….

a multi-story building renovation. He said: “I’m going into

this room and going to sleep. Let me know if anyone comes.”

I sat outside the room for hours. He finally came out. He’d

gotten a call for a stopped up toilet in the building. We went there.

The bathroom was all tile…walls too…luckily. He started working

on the toilet with the closet auger…a short snake with a crooked

end. Nothing. He took the toilet up from the floor and put the

auger in the outlet hole and snaked it. Nothing. He got a garden

hose, hooked it up and began to wrestle with that toilet like Huck

Finn’s Uncle Jim having hallucinations. Suddenly, the largest turd

I never hoped to see slithered out of the toilet like a snake that had

surrendered. We just looked at each other, agape, in the

brotherhood of amazement.

That was one day.

Watching A Video Of My Teacher

Watching a video of my teacher,

Vidyadhara the Venerable

Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche,

I realized that every gesture,

every movement, every word

that came out of his mouth

was not motivated by anyone

being there.

Bad Dog

I tell the truth

No one likes that…

I’m a bad dog.

Trained to the truth

Sniffing out deception

I’m a bad dog.

Don’t mess with me

I’m junkyard bad

Full of love.

Your ideas are wrong

That’s why I love you

And show my teeth.

Surreal Moment

The dogs are not barking….

Where does it hurt?

Conspiracies are lilacs….

Haven’t you been told?

Dinosaurs haunt the halls

Exposed like boils…..

Even Ghandi looked beautiful…

A time lapse that never was….

It’s like this forever, if you’re

Paying attention….oops…

Back to the drawing board.

One Word At A Time

Beveled

Reality

Time

Shapes

All

Things

Handle

Gone

Tomorrow

Next

Next

Next

Go

Figure

Revealed

Truth

See

See

See

Look

Look

See

Blue

Deep

Vast

Thoughtless

Now.

Wow.

Oblivion

Oblivious in sober self centered assessment

of the world, the marching morons walk five

abreast in the city streets, barely noticing

the others around them, entrenched in cast

iron ruts of direction assumed but not known,

brainwashed to utter perfection.

OPEN

Open out, open in,

nothing in between

open out open in

nothing in between

inner outer nothing

nothing in between

open to out and to in

nothing in between

Fastened To A Dying Animal

No longer sick with desire,

nonetheless, still alive, an

inconvenience, at best.

Each day a different part of

this machine behaves in a

disturbing way…hints of

Arthritis, gastric, palpitations,

Hydroplastic econdroplasia,

Yellow peril and acne…wow…

I don’t like this part.

No one does.

But the spirit still can dance.

Denial only delays the truth,

the most important thing,

an acquired taste, maybe…

but….once there…there are

no more problems….death

becomes moving to another

city.

Front Row At The Apocalypso

I get to be in the audience, since,

I’m not a player, though, probably

still will be a casualty.

Still, I’m ready with popcorn and

internet eye on the world…and I’m

just old enough and ripe enough

to enjoy the downward slide.

Transformation

That’s a big word today…

from the cosmetics, the regimes,

the surgery, the Super Heros,

the diets, the yogic enterprises,

the fasts, the sweat lodges….

all for what?

Not being comfortable in your

own skin, I would imagine.

Being too much a part of an

artificial world, I guess…

Not able or wanting to be open

and honest, it looks like….

Transformation is over

a lifetime…which seems a

long time until it’s almost over.

And, if you didn’t do it before,

it’s too late by then.

When I was young, I never

thought change was possible…

after forty years of meditation

I realized it’s not only possible,

but likely…eventually.

Sorry…no quick fix…you gotta

put in the time, do the work…

and….it hurts….the ego suffers….

…but ego is the only disease

work curing…a sight

for Thor eyes.

A List Of People That Think Higgs-Bosun Is Real

Steven Hawkings

Earl Weaver

The entire government of the United States Of America

Maddona

Tom Cruise

Will Smith

John Travolta

Stalin

Hitler

Mao

Some that don't think the Higgs-Bosun is real:

Jesus

Buddha

God (not the particle)

Transitioning

“Out of college, money spent,

see no future, pay no rent,

all the money’s gone, nowhere to go…”

“But oh, that magic feeling…

nowhere to go.”

Beatles

I came back to the family home like

Dustin Hoffman at the bottom of a swimming

pool.* Strangely, which shows what

little grip I had at the time, I asked my father for advice.

He said: “Cut your hair, buy a suit, get a job.”

So, I cut my hair, got a suit, put it on, and looked at

myself in the mirror. What I saw

in the mirror almost drove me insane on the spot. I took

off the suit. The next day, I took a bus to Madison,

Wisconsin to live with my girlfriend….

,,,part of (maybe the real) reason was I wanted

to work with Broom Street Theatre in Madison

as an actor. In the early 70’s, there were around 300

Small, independent theatres around the USA that

were performing their own original works. Now, there

is only Broom Street Theatre. I saw them do

Woytzek, and a Kafka play, ____. I was hooked.

Somehow, I just started rehearsing with them in

what was to become “Hot Wankel”, which the

Director, Joel Gersmann, referred to as “the end of

theatre”…it was a grotesque, arabesque,

Grotowskian theatre of the absurd, four hours long.

One reviewer said the intensity nearly drove him

out of the theatre. We rehearsed every day,

for four hours, for eight months. We toured to

Minneapolis, Osh Kosh, and Ann Arbor.

In two of those places, some professor took

us home to party after the performance.

One of them asked:” Don’t you people

ever stop acting?” “Huh?” I never had to act

after that play.

I realized that for me, at that time, it was

the end of theatre. I checked that off of

my list. The only other item on the list

was “Buddhism”.

I went to a doctor’s clinic…for some reason.

I must have gotten lost and gone

through a few wrong doors, because, on the

way to the clinic, I went through

a room of cadavers on tables in a blue light….

must have been an anatomy

classroom. While I was sitting in the waiting

room, two guys were conversing

rather loudly. One was talking about this

Tibetian Buddhist teacher that wore

suits and smoked and drank liquor when he

was giving talks. It was if some

one had pulled a trigger in my mind.

I knew I had to meet this person.

I convinced my girlfriend to move with me to

Boston, to be near this teacher’s

center. I didn’t level with her, but I didn’t know

what I could say that would make any sense.

After we were in Boston a while, we visited my teacher’s

center in Vermont. I stayed in Boston…she

left and became a doctor.

I had an interview with the teacher,

Chogyam Trungpa, and she didn’t. I’m

not sure why. When I met Rinpoche,

instantly I realized I’d found what I’d

been looking for my whole life….but

that discovery itself…though it was

the answer….seemed galaxies away.

He said: “Don’t work so hard.” I said,

with a chuckle: “Yes, I am working

pretty hard…” He chuckled. After a

big silence, I asked him: “Isn’t there an

easier way?” He smiled and shook

his head no. Then, I went and met my

meditation instructor. He said: “How

did it go?” I said: “I was in the worst

possible state of mind.” Then he says:
“Oh! That’s great!” Then, I cried, the

hardest I ever have in my life, for about

half an hour.

Well, at that point…..what would you do?

Everything else fell into place like a

planned accident that took place

over the next forty odd years. You want

pictures? I lost all the great ones.

*Dustin Hoffman in "The Graduate"

College And Revolution

I remember the moment when I dedicated my life.

My dad and I were driving away from our house,

downhill, towards town. It was the summer before my

sophomore year in college, at Carleton. I knew

about LSD, and what was happening in general in the

United States. I knew I had to find out what it was.

I knew that wherever the knowledge I gained led me,

that that was the direction I would take. That moment

happened as my father and I were driving downhill

together in silence.

It was about this time that I would

begin having the recurring ephemeral experience

that someone was looking for me.

The year before at Carleton had been literally nothing

except realizing that the system I was in and part of was

nothing more than a treadmill at best…and that if I was

going to stay there I had to see something else. It all came

together my sophomore year, on 4^th Musser , where LSD met

my road, and insights and long lasting friendships were made,

like the places in the universe where stars are born. It was an

opening that showed me how closed I was, which took another

forty years to process…but, was it worth it? Yes!!

The only thing worth anything. That year, 1968-69, was the

forge in which I awoke and was formed.. It is the hope that still

rings down time and echos in the moment. It was a gift, an offering

to the world one last time before it had to come to this.

What were the Sixties? It was a time of political, social and

spiritual revolution fueled by the burgeoning realization that

consciousness could be freed.. that freedom itself contained

a natural order. Power didn’t have structure in place to contain

this knowledge at the time, so, it relied on brute force and

infiltration tactics to disband and discredit the movement.

We were just discovering having fun and how that was

OK! Once Power discovered and put into place the control

systems for us Eloi, the revolution was over.

But we learned so much in that time….not exactly survival

skills, but rather true lack of the constraints of social norms

that were just pedantic artifacts unrelated to open experience

and expression. The walls around my dorm room (tile) were

covered in graffiti…my roommate and I kept a motorcycle in

there as a centerpiece. The first night I took ACID was the

first night I heard the Grateful Dead. The first friend I met

that night, Chris Gillman, (never met before), kept taking

me to different rooms…different places, saying: “I want to

show you something.” We would get there…sit there

for a while…then, I would say to him: “What did you want

to show me?” At that point, he would get up and lead me

somewhere else.

I didn’t go to college to learn anything specific. I went to

college to find out what this so-called reality was in the

first place. Psychedelics helped. They cleared the deck for

a while so I could take a good look. Then the habitual

patterns swept back in like a tide and covered the naked beach.

Psychedelics showed all of the questions, and none of the

answers. This experience of temporary openness was the

basis of the revolution, but, like a good teacher, could only

show the direction of the path… other steps still had to be taken.