stepping out to a greater love...

stepping out to a greater love...

Perhaps when all is said and done this is the challenge of our age... never mind the hype... where every emphasis is placed on how we can make ourselves more marketable... profitable... oh.... sensible.... practical... logical. They are all distractions. When we seek profit and marketability we're just looking to take from others. We buy in... to a belief that self aggrandizement is good for all.... that an iPod in the hand is better than a Zimbabwe free from cholera....

This is not a condemnation... this is how we were built... had to be built.... to last this long... but to last longer we need a new evolution. We need to step out to a greater love.

Sadly we are often born and raised into a smaller love. An easy love. Many of us have a love of family... friends.... of country but then only "our country" and no love for the rest. They are, after all, the other. Whether they be the Mexican, the Black, the White, the Arab, the Asian, the gay, the punk, the hippie, the jock, the urban elitist, the redneck, the Joe Six Pack, the burner..... Whatever they are the small love excludes them. They are radical and will destroy society. They are a menace. The small love doesn't want to know about "their" loves, ambitions, their ideas..... the small love dismisses.

I know plenty about being dismissed. I dress funny. I don't always wear shoes. I say strange things that have to be thought about. Rather than "apply myself" and go through the motions of a routine life, I sought to make an art, and to speak a truth even though the cost is very high.... ridiculously high I might add. Yeah.. I am the "other"... plenty of the time. It can be a pretty lonely and terrible place to be sometimes.

Last week, I went out to a redneck bar and shot some pool. I watched a little of March Madness. I even went to a Hooter's. The waitress sat and hung out with us (....as is their job.... sadly). She talked about having dinner with family on a Saturday night. Bland conversation for an urban elitist for sure and she was a terrible waitress.... but I do not dismiss her... or the yahoos rooting for Michigan State (...as am I). I know enough about people that they will all go back to a family and love them and try to make happiness and get by as best they know how.....

That is not just the way I feel about the people at Hooter's though. It is the way I feel about Republicans, Palestinians, Afghans, and jocks. Whatever.

I could hate... that is easier but I found the greater love is better. Though not easy, it is something that can be taught and is far more rewarding than the small love. I would not trade anything for all the good that has been brought to me from people of different points of view and persuasions...

The trick is simple. Question authority. Your authority. When you feel or think a certain way... step outside.... and look at it from there. You may find that you were right. You may find that you were wrong... in a bad way or a good way... we do love to accept way too much of what we love and deny way too much of what we hate.... there is always that risk but the Truth is well worth having in any case.

Today... the Divide and Conquers are enjoying their last feast. Their time grows shorter by the minute in this fast changing world. They will go but they are such assholes... and we allow them to be such assholes... that they may take us with them. The best we can do is be what they aren't and to teach others to step out into the greater love with us. We are in a world of miracles. We can grow food for everyone. We can teach a world what it takes to make a world work so that we all have what we need. We are working on it in spite of ourselves.

...

My step father was a racist.... but he sold cars and he sometimes had to sell cars to black people. One black couple came in with their kids and bought a car from him. They spoke eloquently, had good jobs and credit, and their kids were respectful and well behaved. He came home that night and said "There are some good ones too". Of course, it is still sad that he failed to understand that they might all be good or trying to be good in a world owned and... at that time anyway.... ruled by people who have completely shit on their kind but... at least... that black family forced him to step out a little... and he copped as much.

John Lennon said all you need is love... and he died knowing he was right but he had to admit that a song wasn't going to do it. We all need to step out... even when it sucks and it is hard..... Me too... starting with myself.... which is very fucking hard.....

...but I'm stepping out.

In Defense of Barbie and Ken Dolls... after the VT massacre 2007

I sometimes rail against "Barbie and Ken dolls" and use them to symbolize the empty headed consumer of our plastic and disposable pop culture. It is, of course, satire. I do not really objectify people in this way.

Monday someone who had more thoroughly objectified people managed to get away with executing more than thirty of them. No doubt, behind dark and polluted eyes he saw a world of pretty young people having fun, partying, spending money, and having sex. This was, to him, a world he could never be a part of (or so he told himself in his demented isolation). He punished these people by ending their world. At some point, probably long ago, those that he looked out at had probably long ceased being people. They were "its" and "them" of some kind. That transference is necessary to kill someone. In our war the people our President objectifies as "insurgents" or "terrorists" get furthered objectified by soldiers as "targets". On the other side, young college aged kids with girlfriends and worried parents became "infidels" and "occupiers". This has always been the way of murder. This is the Great Sadness.

A lot of people feel like "outsiders" especially in high schools and colleges. I can only imagine there are hundreds of thousands if not millions of us that feel alienated in some way. I remember going to college for the first time and looking out at all these pretty young people and wondering how I could possibly fit in. Then, a couple days later, a pretty girl smiled at me and said "Hi". I was in too much shock to really respond. I think I might've grunted or something. I did see her later though and because she had said hi to me I mustered up the courage to approach her and fire off a joke.

It wasn't funny but she laughed anyway. We talked for awhile about where we were from and what we were studying and some time later we went back to her room and I kissed her. When I looked around and saw the pictures of her parents and her little brother, the rock posters on the wall and all the silly souvenirs of childhood recently left behind, I realised that this pretty girl was a dork. She was just as insecure and unsure about her life as I was.

I kissed her again.

Father's Day... Training Wheels

I asked my sister what death meant. She said it was like lying down and not ever getting up. My dad was napping on the couch at the time holding a can of Old Style on his belly. I asked my sister if he was dead.

I did not understand.

I got my first bike on Christmas. It was probably 1972. It was very patriotic. Red, white, and blue with a banana seat. It was just like Peter Fonda's chopper in Easy Rider. Only it was for a four year old. I don't think there was any coke in the handle bars. That bike would be cool now. Dad put some training wheels on it so I could get the hang of riding a big person's bike.

I practiced and practiced with the training wheels. Soon, I insisted I was ready to get those "sissy wheels" off and ride like the big kids. Dad took them off. He kept the bike balanced as I got on nervously staring down the long sidewalk. I was up so high and the pavement looked so far away from me. So dangerous. I had already broken my shoulder twice. Off in the distant, there was the big world. The Sunoco station. Paul Winger's house.

I was scared but dad was right there. Nothing bad would happen. Dad gave me a shove and off I went out into the big old world that day. I was only four at the time and I had no idea that was how he was going to leave me. On a wobbly bike heading down the sidewalk.

A month later I knew what death meant. It meant that we could actually use that front room with the nice furniture. It meant well dressed men would visit and sit with us in that front room. They told me that dad had gone to a better place. I was happy for dad and I didn't understand why all the big people were crying. I begged them to stop. I did not understand until I was there out on the oh so very green grass under the oh so very blue skies with the oh so white clouds passing over us. Soldiers shot at them. The clouds were not wounded. They moved on. We are powerless to stop them.

The training wheels were off for good.

I will not kill you with my bare feet

I know... this is impossible to comprehend but I really am not wearing any shoes. It is extreme... radical... dangerous... and yes... completely out of step with the 21st Century. I am a savage. Caveman.... but.... you do not need to look at me with such horror.... I assure you. I will not kill you with my bare feet. I have traveled many miles barefoot and I cannot recall even one single death that was caused by it....so... I promise.... you are quite safe.

In fact, if I were to go on a shooting rampage, I would definitely don the requisite combat boots because... well... those shell cases are fucking hot. So, in fact, you are probably much safer with me in my bare feet. I am happier this way and much more at peace.

I know... after all these years of progress... it is completely wrong for me to behave this way. It is not normal and I really do wish I could be normal. Blend in... sterile... safe... common... but nature is so cruel. I have been given all these messy genes and chromosomes and have gone through all these millions of interactions and wound up nothing like normal... I am unique. An individual. Idiosyncratic. A freak even with thousands of features making me not at all like you including among them a complete lack of recognition of the need to always don some kind of footwear.

I know. It is very dangerous to touch the Earth. The Earth is all out to kill us all and every step I take is a total invitation to disaster. I know... I know... there are real hazards out there especially in the city where shod assholes find endless amusement in breaking bottles on the sidewalk. I could get hurt.... but I rarely do. In fact, have only seriously hurt my foot with my shoes on.

I understand your looks. This is 2008. We do not touch. Certainly not the Earth. That is why we cover it with a blanket of cement.... put floors over floors.... walls between walls... windows to keep out the wretched sky.... Please... for God's sake... do not touch me... do not even talk to me....

send me a text instead.

Someday soon we will be able to inject ourselves completely into the sterile mainframe and leave that most disturbing part of all nature.... our bodies. What a fucking relief that will be! These goddamn bodies are so annoying. They can never make up their mind. They either want to eat or take a shit, drink or piss.... and they are so obsessed about fucking.... what an horrible exchange of biohazards that is... a veritable nightmare of touching.... and more touching.

I look forward to that day when we all inject ourselves into the mainframe. I look forward to it because when all you get raptured I will certainly be left behind and I take a walk outside in my bare feet and you will not be there to look at me with horror... all those assholes will not be around to break their bottles on the sidewalk.... hell... with no more cops or prudes about I might just take off the rest of my clothes... treat my body to a joint... maybe I will run into someone else who is not afraid of the touching either... I would probably get along very well with this person... we might even fuck....

...but for today I am not wearing shoes and I do apologized for the nature that has made me this way. I apologize for all nature. I am sorry for wanting to touch and daring to touch in spite of your looks of horror.... but.... I do assure you.

I will not kill you with my bare feet.

Through the Past Darkly. Lessons from the last Decade Part One - 2000

Through the Past Darkly. Lessons from the last Decade Part One - 2000

Ah yes.. The decade is almost over. What a blast those naughties were! I thought it might be lovely to share some of the hard lessons and lovely experiences from each year.

Part One

2000.

I got laid!

I was terribly drunk which accounts for my success in actually picking up a girl at a bar. This was in Florida and I had just gotten out of jail. She probably thought I was a 'bad boy' and maybe that is why she tied me to the bed. Which was a terrible idea because while she was cleaning up in the bathroom I was unable to escape throwing up on myself.

Lesson: Please use bondage responsibly.

Fistfights with God and Why I Will Win

I was looking through old blogs and reposting them to my own website and I noticed a pattern in them. At least once in every three, I am blasting religion. I have also written songs like "Heaven's Full of Assholes" and "Jesus in a Pancake" which don't flatter the churchgoers either. My songs have been used by the Humanist Network to promote atheism. I must hate God.

To be honest, I am not another Richard Dawkins or Christopher Hitchens. I agree with a lot of what they say but they seem to me to be super-muggles. A world without God is nothing that I would want nor do I think it would really fix anything. Pol Pot and Stalin proved that assholes don't need God to commit horrible atrocities.

I do not fear theocracy. I fear Idiocracy.

Actually, I find religion endlessly fascinating. When I was in Europe, I visited the grand cathedral that centered every town I went to. My senses are not so dull as to not feel some awe and reverence in such magnificence. Religion is a history of people trying to uncover the mysteries of the universe and their place in it. I find the ancient myths to be beautiful at times. Some of those old myths touch a truth that could never be expressed in text book format.

Which is the problem I have with a lot of churches. To these unenlightened dolts, the Bible is a text book. This is a sad byproduct of our education system which has for years neglected poetry and arts in favor of more "practical" disciplines. Apparently, millions of people don't understand what a metaphor is and read the Bible as if it is the owner's manual to a DVD player. The myths of the Bible, some of which are much more ancient than the Bible itself, are designed to enter your heart and lead you to a truth that cannot be simply expressed. Adam, Eve, Jonah and Lucifer are not comic book characters or historical people, they are Us. Their struggles, successes, falls and ascensions echo the struggles which all of us go through. Stripped of its symbolism, the Bible not only loses its value but it is delivered into the hands of Evil.... into the Idiocracy.

In a sane society, people that take the Bible literally would be committed to an asylum. After all, they are a danger to themselves and others. They get so confused about the Word of God (who Himself could be considered a delusion), they blow up abortion clinics. They rally against things like gay marriage, which to a rational person, would seem to be a matter of common decency.Christian fundamentalists along with their arch enemies, Muslim fundamentalists (Pepsi to the Christian Coke) are currently the single greatest threat to peace and stability in our world today. Somehow I doubt that Jesus or even Muhammad would approve.

It is perhaps understandable that fundamentalism would thrive in the illiterate backwaters of some place like Afghanistan but for it to thrive here... in a relatively educated and modern society is... frankly... fucking embarrassing. We have members in Congress denying evolution and global warming because such concepts go against their moronic conclusions about God. There is no merit to their arguments, they're just idiots. They are a disgrace.

I think the reason why such backwater religious beliefs thrive here is because of the type of society we have. We Americans are desperate. We feel powerless against the mega-corporations that legally screw us over on a daily basis. Sadly, it seems like millions are heading into church for the worst reasons. They are drawn by a false sense of superiority. They may be getting screwed in the real world but they will be a member of God's elite in the afterlife. To me, this is a pathetic reflection of our sad American values which believes certain people should be lauded with ginormous wealth and others should be excluded and have to fight over their scraps like dogs. I find it tragic that our society can't instead project a Heaven where all are welcome regardless of religious brand.

Like schoolyard bullies, these morons come out saying "My God is right and you are going to Hell!" When I point out that a God who would deliver his message solely to a small desert tribe and ignore the vast majority of His Creation would be something akin to a petty tyrant far worse than Adolf Hitler and not worth worshiping, they say "Ours is not to question His wisdom". To which I respond the same way my mom responded when she visited the Mormon Temple Square here in Salt Lake.

"Bullshit. Bullshit. Bullshit."

I will not bow before a God whose morality is inferior to my own.

....

The Elders came by last summer spreading the word of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. As usual, these kids looked at me with the same sense of condescending compassion they always do. After all, they were holy.... dressed properly in a white shirt and tie... preaching the "true" word of God and I... well.... barefoot in dirty jeans drinking a PBR while working on the yard. They hit me with one their standard arguments they always put before a "sinner" like me. They said it was easier to deny God's Plan and lead a lazy life of pleasure (referring to my beer drinking lifestyle) than to follow "God's Plan"..

My response was to point out that it is easier to accept the answers given by an institution than to honestly seek out the answers yourself. It is easier to think that you are loved and cherished by a supernatural creature and will be protected by him even through death than to openly an honestly consider the possibility that there is no God and nothing awaits the dead other than cold black emptiness.

Who is lazy?!

My path is to not take the easy... lazy... approach to life's mysteries. I seek not the warmth and false comfort of a convenient narrative but the Truth.

For me, faith is no virtue. It is a sin. A willing denial of God's greatest gift to man... Reason. Faith is for cowards. Unless, you have been willing to risk it all... including the existence of your big friend, God... you have nothing to teach me. You have nothing to teach anyone other than wishful thinking.

Myself, I am still seeking the Truth. I believe strongly that anyone who says they have the answers... be it Joseph Smith or Dr. Dawkins... are liars.

There are some churches out there that preach love, peace, and openness and with them I have no quarrel. I only wish your voices weren't so easily drowned out by the idiots. I guess hatred and intolerance get better ratings than peace and understanding. Again, I am embarrassed for my country... My culture.... Sigh.

To those condescending self righteous assholes who think they are God's Chosen People, I will fight you to the death. You are a cancer.... a plague upon mankind... you are Unholy. If you are right and you get to go to Heaven and I go to Hell, I will proudly march with Satan and overthrow your ass. By all accounts, we sinners have you VASTLY OUTNUMBERED so you guys are fucked.

In the end, reason will win. It always does. It just takes forever. As Bill Maher put it, we either have to grow up or die. I think we will grow up and someday more or less everyone will agree that love is better than hate... that the One True God is everyone's God and not just for people who share your views... This is the God I believe in and, in the end, He is going to win and Heaven will not constructed in the sky but, instead, here on Earth.... in our hearts.

As Jesus said of the Kingdom of Heaven in the heretical gnostic Gospel of Thomas (suppressed by the Church back in ancient times)

"It will not come by watching for it. It will not be said, 'Look, here!' or 'Look, there!' Rather, the Father's kingdom is spread out upon the earth, and people don't see it."

peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from god

Well... at some point I had to walk out... this in spite of the horrid economy which had managed to lay off most of my friends... I couldn't get laid off... I was paid to little... I was too competent in spite of my attitude which may or may not have suggested the threat of imminent violence... but I would have and was only killing myself. So I walked out and had to come up with a new plan.

The first was a bicycle tour. It was a long shot and everything would have had to work out for me to pull it off. Unfortunately, nothing did. It became too quixotic for even for someone who is addicted to jousting windmills. Still, I remained convinced that a music needed to happen. Music is my crackainerion.... Without it, I go crazy and will quickly reduce myself to mumbling to myself on the streets and selling sexual favors way too fucking cheap.

So there was this album... a second real one... that I had been messing about with for three years.... It is time. I decided I needed to head to Salt Lake... where I know many a great musician... though I plan to include some awesome PDX musicians as well... but there I have the space and equipment.... So I go.

To do this I need some sort of vehicle to transport my dozen or so acoustic instruments. Since I don't plan on actually living there and don't want to pay rent, I need a vehicle I can rubbertramp in as well... (ie. sleep in...).

My first thought was a camper van... but most are huge gas guzzling monsters that wouldn't be fun if I actually had to go somewhere.... I thought a bit about minivans but the memory of my brother's girlfriend's Astro (I should say ASStro) having transmission FAIL in Boca Raton leaving us stranded with the crazy guy in charge of the Weekly World News. Anybody remember Ed Anger? I certainly always will after staying with him for three days. Once, he pointed a big ass loaded pistol and asked me what I thought of him....

I told him he was an asshole.

True story.

Next I thought of those little station wagons. Those Subaru's are pretty cool. I could live there. It would suck but I remember in Anchorage a couple of our teacher friends who slept in those (...they taught in the "bush" to Native Alaskans (dry....) so during the summers they came to town to DRINK!!!! and pass out in a Subaru in our driveway). I even looked at one. I wasn't too thrilled about it before I saw it and when, after a test drive, I could easily see the engine smoking (even I am not so daft as to know when at the very least a head gasket is fucked....) I just told the dude.....

"Good luck with that..."

I slept poorly that night. I went to sleep about 3am and woke about 6:45am....

way too fucking early for an unemployed dude....

So I scanned the ads with no agenda other whatt would work with my measly budget. I saw a Toyota truck with a camper top. That looked pretty damn good. When I saw it was relatively low mileage and half of them were from being towed behind an RV, it really looked fucking good. It also had one of those so called "bulletproof engines".... and they weren't kidding. People have literally shot them things and they still ran.

I needed this vehicle but... of course... it was way out in SE Portland and by the time I got there somebody would've snatched it... but I shot him an email anyway. It turned out I had emailed him about thirty seconds after he put the ad up. He called me back and... sadly... I explained I would be on my way but it would take an hour because I didn't have a car. I asked him to call me back if somebody else got there first.

He said he would let me look at it first.

Another good sign. The seller was cool. When I got there, he turned out to be even cooler. He was an older carpenter with all sorts of pet projects. He talked my ears off about Dead concerts (...back in the day) and his plans for retirement. He was working an artisan stuff to sell at Saturday Market. I checked out the truck... not perfect by a long shot... but hell-a-better than anything else I could expect to find so cheap. I drove it home fully loving my new found freedom on wheels with its butterfly medallion hanging off the visor.

I guess the not-suck-y-ness was further exacerbated by the visit to the DMV. I was trying to work out a sandal situation when an older black gentlemen came towards the door. I held it open for him. He said "You can have my ticket". I had gone through the trouble of preparing myself for this visit by bringing my Two Months of Music iPod and a really long book but I could barely get the paperwork filled out before that number was called..........

So be it. I will consider this an auspicious beginning. That is a good thing... especially considering I have no fucking clue what I am going to do... other than make some fucking music.

"peculiar travel suggestions are dance lessons from God"

Book of Bokonin (k.v.)

Career change.... Monarchy.... or I'm King Bitch!

I have a hard time dealing with authority. Bosses, cops, IRS, God, girlfriends... etc. No good. So maybe I need step up in the ranks a little. I think King would be about right for me. You get to make up your own laws. The first of which would be "I rule!" Then you get your own castle. I could live in a castle though in the movies they always seem so drab. No problem. I'm sure the Royal Interior Designer would have the place FABULOUS in no time.

I would be a good king too. Nothing like our King George the Dumbass. I won't go about picking on little countries and little people and embarrassing his subjects by saying moronic shit all the time. My policy would be stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours. What happens in the castle, stays in the castle. That's why I have a moat full of crocodiles. Fucking paparazzi.

As far as Kingdoms go, I wouldn't want anything like the US. Leave that to Obama. Besides, I think you have to be elected or something here. Not good. I don't have much of a wardrobe but I do have a walk in skeleton closet.

I think Siam would do nicely. Tropical and lush. Plenty of wonderful concubines. You've heard all those stories about Bangkok girls. The bananas, ping pong balls, and old school Coca-Cola bottles (...I'm a bit frightened by the last one). Amazing.

I believe I qualify for the job too. I am every bit as bald and Siamese as Yul Brynner. I'll even sing and dance with that stuck up English bitch. Whatever. I know she only objects to me whipping my slaves because she is secretly jealous. We all know how kinky those uptight English women are.

I will take care of you, Anna. Special care.

"Getting to know you..... Getting to know all about you....."

lalalalala

"I'm the King, BITCH!"