Meat for the Giants

“Mom, read me a story tonight.”

“Well OK, I will read you a Grimm’s Fairy Tale.”

I opened the book to wherever the giant book of fairy tales would take me. I just  happened to open the book to Ferdinand the Faithful. I sat underneath the white metal bunk bed on the red futon and began to read the story to my son.

Of course my head was racing with thoughts while reading the story to him. Tomorrow is going to be my son’s first day in middle school.

This was as strange to me as the fairy tale I was reading. Here there are talking fish and talking white horses with magic pens and keys to open up a castle standing on a heath. A heath what is that? Oh yes, a tract of open and uncultivated land.

That is what I was feeling, uncultivated land? My eleven year old is going to make a new start away from me on a new adventure, and unless I find an invisible cloak tonight to follow him, I must let him go on his journey … alone.

I am hopeful because Ferdinand made friends and they helped him along his adventure while riding his white horse. He even outsmarted  the bully Ferdinand the Unfaithful.

Life is like a fairy tale. I have taught my son much of what he needs to know about life. The story helps too, it  even eased the tension in me and  helped my son go to sleep.

 If he is honest,  helpful and strong my son will have meat for the giants and bread for the birds. He will have a flute to call the fish for help.

“He, however always rode on his white horse, and once when he was seated on it, it told him that he was to go on to the heath which he knew and gallop three-times round it. And when he had done that, the white horse stood up on its hind legs, and was changed into a King’s son.”

~ Ferdinand the Faithful, Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales. Fall River Press

Nazi Punks, It is just as clear today as it was from the beginning… and I have one thing to say….

Today the extremes in human nature seem to be battling it out on the human stage. The weather is extreme and nature is bitchy.  The feeling I have of deep oppression is swallowing my hopefulness for humanity.  Satwant Singh Kaleka and Lt. Brian Murphy are examples of the best of what it means to be a good human being. They were willing to give their life for others. This amazes me. This brings hope back into my heart. August is an extreme time of the year and some of us pop like popcorn.  Insane, vicious and diabolical…  it is very interesting to observe this even though my foresight told me this would be. The best we can do is go back to doing simple things that make life seem normal again. A hot fudge Sunday, a swim in the pool or a beer at the local pub… but sometimes it is hard to get over the shock and feel normal at all…

Hubba-hubba

 ssToday was the day of the word hub. I define hub as a center of activity or interest; a focal point. Last night is when the word really started. A friend showed us a picture of the hub where he works. He used the word hub. I was interested in the word instantly. I have not heard it for some time but there was a little excitement in the word as he said it.

Anyway the word hub made an impression on me.

Today the word came up many times while I was reading. I will focus on three of the most interesting places the word hub emerged into my consciousness.  We call them aha moments.

I was sitting on a chair at the local Jr. College waiting for my son’s class to end. Enjoying the time near a tree I was studying my book  Jung, Synchronicity, and Human Destiny by IRA Progoff. I was intensely focused when that word popped up. I thought that was an odd word for this writer to use, this book having a copyright from Delta Books 1973.

The specific role of the archetypes in synchronistic phenomena seems to be to serve as the constellating hub of a situation across time, and to be the factor of inner orderedness that gives the distinctive set to the situation. ~ Pg. 135

Later in the day it was rather off time to be reading the Los Angeles Times but the day was running slow. My kids were playing games and Mr. Husband was hogging the computer so I turned to some news for no reason.  I read an article about the unveiling of the new park Grand Park of L.A.

To city leaders Grand Park provides this new community with much-needed open space, a respite from the grid of city life as well as a hub for community events.

Front Page Los Angeles Times, Grand Green Dream, Paragraph four.

Then believe it or not about three hours later I almost tossed the paper in the trash when by chance while separating the advertisements from the rest of the paper the LATEXTRA fell down on the couch. This tends to be my favorite part of the paper so I sat down to read it. I was totally amused when I caught sight of the article on page AA 3, Condom Measure Put On Ballot. I had to laugh when I read what Supervisor Gloria Molina said on the subject of condoms and pornography which was next to the last paragraph of this article,

It doesn’t apply to the San Fernando Valley, which I understand is the hub of where these films are made

 

I am now taking a breath and realizing that within the hub of understanding this word hub  I was in fact in the process of a synchronistic phenomena experiencing a hub of a word across time..

Seriously how wild is that?

(August 19th 2012… my sister told me that our Grandmother on the paternal side use to hold  her arms and hands up in the air and say “Hubba-Hubba”… and so this synchronistic phenomena has its charm )

Conscience the blood of a living anarchist

 I shall now be a little more free and open with you than I was before. I wish we were all true-hearted, and that we did all carry ourselves with integrity.

~ Thomas Rainsborough

Anarchy seems so often clothed in the rebellion and intellectual dress of its followers. When I was younger we had the familiar old image of the Dove sign of two fingers held-up and apart as the symbol of peace. In the punk rock years of the late seventies and early eighties  that symbol metamorphosed and became the “V” of  vice, vandalism and violence. I am sure from the outside this seemed radical and rebellious and it was,  but within my community of friends it stood for something more.  To me personally it stood for freedom from cultural and religious accountability, but not from what lived at the root of its meaning,

“all true-hearted, and that we did all carry ourselves with integrity.”

It was not laws and dogmas that guided us but a true creative spark to change what pissed us off.  It was the Governments that lied to us  and the  dogmatic churches that belittled and brainwashed us with visions of hell and damnation. The worst characters to this abomination of their creation being Saint Augustine and the first Christian king from Constantinople, Constantine the Great.

Putting the blame aside,  I  understand that culture and religion breeds morals and ethics. The most powerful being how we learn these ways of being as an oral tradition passed on from mother to child.  The ethics and morals of what is right and wrong nurtured  by love, and this is the best scenario which is based on the bond between family and loved ones. The goal is to break the bonds of family and so move out into the world as a whole individual filled with integrity.

The above quote from Thomas Rainsborogh’s mouth states clearly the knowing  experience of the true anarchy experience.  This is the freedom to make the best choice for all concerned.  This is not because we have to, or because of peer pressure. It is because we are true-hearted, and that we carry ourselves with integrity as a single individual , with or without government, but hopeful that others will follow on their own accord.

In Aurora, Colorado James E. Holmes killed and it is still a mystery why he killed. My focus is not on him. He is an insane young man who because of his lewdness reveals to us a darkness, a shadow that this country must now face. This is not Anarchy!  It is something else and it is as dark and opaque as the sucking under-world. Yet, within this tragedy and drama is the extreme anarchy of a few individuals that cared more for another than they did for themselves.

I am speaking of the ones that died that day to save another life. I am not a political fool for this country, it is nothing like that.  In the chaos of this a hope shines forth …can you see it? This hope best shows us what the anarchist experience looks like. This is defined as an act for another that is based on the statement,   true-hearted, and that we did all carry ourselves with integrity. I am not saying that one should die for anarchy or die for another to experience  this anarchy experience because it can be viewed and achieved in the smallest of choices or actions.  I am saying that my heart is honored to know that within humanity there are individuals that have a conscience and this is the blood of a true anarchist. In these dark times I am often in a daze of overwhelmedness, today I cried and my heart-felt freedom.

Hold up the beam of light called conscience, hold it up to the Big Wigs, the Corpocracy, the Illuminati,  Wall Street and the Federal Reserve… they don’t have a chance.

This is the blood of a living anarchist !!!

I shall now be a little more free.

Happy Birthday Woody Guthrie: His mother taught him the gift of writing Ballads !

To the ballads and the

contributions to music…

consciousness in politics

Scotch Irish American

Happy Birthday…100 years!!

We need more characters like this man!

http://woodyguthrie.org/