May 2010 bring us Peace, Love, and Health

Season's Greetings

To all my Christian friends celebrating the birth of Christ;
To all my Hindu friends who celebrated Siva/Vishnu Deeputsav in early December, and love to celebrate anyway;
To all my Buddhist friends who have this month celebrated Bodhi Day;
To my few Parsi/Zoroastrian friends who have no major festivals this month, but take any opportunity to reflect on “Good thoughts, good words, good deeds”;
To my Canadian and American friends who celebrate Kwanzaa;
To my fellow Natural Pantheists celebrating a vibrant and inclusive Universe;
Let us all go forth into the New Year reflecting and radiating the love that is symbolised by the Season for all of the celebrants. Let us speak out against injustice. Let us thwart evil wherever we find it. Let us build a world in which everyone is a shareholder. Let us work together for Peace and Goodwill.



Greyhavens Toast

Here’s to past and future friends,
to loved ones we hold dear:
here’s to those here with us now,
and those who can’t be here.

Here’s to those who have passed on,
their memories with us still:
here’s to building a better world,
with love, peace, and goodwill.

Season’s Greetings from Jim, Terry, Geoff and Siobhán

This is Your Brain on Capitalism

Saw this today in the Post, and suddenly understood the shape of things to come.
Jim

This is your brain on capitalism

Robert Fulford, National Post Published: Saturday, November 28, 2009



Drugs that reshape our character could become the defining industrial products of the century.

When Theodore Dalrymple practised psychiatry in Britain a few years ago he noticed that many of his indigent female patients lived sad lives, and looked rather sad, but never once complained of sadness. Instead, they told him they were depressed.

They had learned to speak the language. As he explained in one of his excellent magazine articles, his patients knew he had a pill to give them for depression whereas he could do nothing for sadness except suggest they re-organize their lives. In many cases he might have suggested they leave the abusive and neglectful men who were spreading melancholy in all directions. His patients didn't want to hear that.

They wanted pills, which he was able to provide.

In a sense, they understood the future of medicine better than he did. As a therapist, he imagined helping them work through life problems but science, public health services and pharmaceutical corporations were all moving elsewhere, away from talk therapy and toward the blossoming field of psychotropic drugs and the unfolding marvels of neuroscience.

Old-fashioned therapists still find good work to do but neuroscience has usurped the prestige that psychoanalysis and related forms of therapy possessed during the twentieth century. The neuroscientists have -- as C.P. Snow said about scientists in general in a famous lecture 50 years ago -- "the future in their bones." They have taught the world to regard joy as dopamine activity in the brain's reward centres and melancholy as serotonin deficiency.

The implications are large enough to reshape society and create a new economy, "Neurocapitalism." That's the title of a provocative article by Ewa Hess, a Zurich journalist, and Hennric Jokeit, a Zurich University neuropsychologist, in Merkur, a Berlin cultural review (kindly translated for those who don't read German by the excellent online Eurozine).

Psychotropic drugs are moving beyond curing the demonstrably sick. Increasingly, they are used by mainly healthy people to alter "character virtues," such as self-confidence and trust. Hess and Jokeit report that current medical journals go much farther, describing neuroscientific research into "love, hate, envy, Schadenfreude, mourning, altruism and lying." The expectation (and the reason for research funding) is that whatever neuroscientists identify can be modified by pharmaceuticals.

As Hess and Jokeit see it, psychotropic drugs could become the defining industrial products of this century. They choose the term "neurocapitalism" because the new drugs, in theory, answer the need of capitalism for more effective human beings and the need of individuals to make themselves successful in the marketplace.

Researchers are manipulating the nature of the human animal and challenging the very "self " at the core of human life. Almost everyone who touches this field understands that it raises delicate moral issues. Unfortunately, almost no one knows how to draw a line separating legitimate medical needs from purely frivolous desires. Where in the continuum would we place "neuro-enhancers" that propose to add years to a pilot's career or change someone from a B-to an A+ student? Drugs in this category can be rationalized as "compensatory" or "moderate enhancement," comparable to glasses worn to correct eyesight.




Even if medical ethicists could determine which drugs are legitimate and which are not, how would their judgment be enforced? Nation by nation? Through international treaties? It seems unlikely.

Hess and Jokeit, who have their misgivings about neuroscience and show no enthusiasm for capitalism, nevertheless point out that the freedom of individuals (as well as corporations) is involved. Pharmacological intervention expands the autonomy of people "to act in their own best interests or to their own detriment." That may turn out to be the most popular guiding principle; certainly it will have the drug companies behind it. It may be that medical ethics, confronted by unprecedented discoveries, lacking any relevant principles from the past, will never cobble together a moral structure it can apply to this largely unknowable science. Perhaps it is already happening much too fast.

robert.fulford@utoronto.ca

Corporations, and Serving the Common Weal

I sometimes get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of corporate propaganda that makes its way into the various media. The big drive now is to show how publicly minded various corporations are, by presenting them as major donors to community services groups and charities. Smoke and mirrors, folks.

Edward Abbey stated the problem succinctly when he said, "Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell."
Corporations finance the election of governments, and, in turn, those elected serve not the people, but the corporations.
Corporations have decided to put chemicals in our foods so that the foods last longer, improving their bottom line, but playing havoc with the health of the world.
Corporations, once public outcry demanded it, removed DDT from use in the developed world, only to sell it in vast quantities to the developing world.
Corporations, not permitted to sell asbestos in Canada, still sell tonnes of the stuff to the developing world, and the Canadian government supports it.
Our fish stocks are decimated due to "corporate fishing," and our cattle and milk are so full of hormones that our daughters develop years earlier than previously.
Corporations sell us drugs, fast-tracked through the FDA and the oxymoronic "Health Canada" machine, whose lists of side effects are more dangerous than the ills they cure.
Corporations, using the propaganda machine of corporate television, tell us to consume, consume, consume, and never mind fiscal responsibility.
Corporations have left Canada and the USA to produce offshore (read China) where safety, and content, standards are non-existant, and our governments ignore the end products until public outcry forces them to chide, not the corporations, but the Chinese for permitting it. Corporations monopolise third world farming, forcing GM seed stocks upon farmers whose initial seed stocks were diverse and sustainable, resulting in a crop that needs more pesticides, and more chemicals to add to a depleted soil.

Renewal and sustainability is the way, folks, and yes, it is going to be difficult for us all. We will not be able to continue to live simply as consumers: we are too numerous, resources are too limited or dwindling, and we are taking toxic loads of pollutants into our bodies, through food, air, and water. Consider the following article that I lifted from the Web...google it yourselves. --

"What is the average life expectancy of Americans? For a long time it has been the low seventies for men and upper seventies for women. So it comes as a shock to learn that the average life expectancy for Americans has dropped to 69.3 years, according to the America's Health Rankings report, issued at the American Public Health Association's annual meeting.

This figure is exceeded by 28 other countries, including Britain, France and Germany and is about five years less than the life expectancy in Japan. According to Dr. Reed Tuckson, this dismal number reflects increasing obesity, fewer people quitting smoking (although only 20.8 percent of Americans smoke today, down from almost one-third in 1990), and increasing numbers of people without health insurance.

Officials made no mention of the increasing consumption of processed foods containing refined sweeteners, processed vegetable oils and toxic additives, and certainly did not allow even a whisper about the almost complete absence of nutrient-dense foods such as organ meats, shellfish and butterfat and eggs from grass-fed animals from the American diet."

Sigh! Time for the intellectual revolution, people. The industrial revolution has failed, and is killing us all.
Read the labels!
Follow the corporate money trails!
Time for a government of the people, for the people.

All of this is, of course, in the opinion of one tired old man, who regrets that it has taken him so long to read between the lines, to look beyond the advert, and to recognise that what a government does is not measured by what it says, but by what it does.

End of rant. Must adjust my meds.

A Meditation on Quantum Entanglement

"For almost a century, physicists have had in hand "the" theoretical framework of the known world—quantum mechanics. But whereas the world clearly comprises large complex systems, quantum mechanics is usually associated with the microworld of atoms and elementary particles, and is hardly ever considered as an underlying feature in our daily life.

This is even more pronounced for some of the seemingly weird predictions of quantum mechanics, such as entanglement, which asserts that the quantum state of physically separated objects is mutually and inextricably connected". -PhysicsToday.org

"Hinduism rejects the biblical account of divine Creation and instead accept forms of pantheism. Hindus believe that only Brahman exists, and all else is illusion (maya), including all creation. According to Hinduism, there is no start or finish of creation, only continuing successions of life and death. The soul (atman) of man is a "spark" of Brahman trapped in the physical body. Repeated lives or reincarnations (samsara) are required before the soul can be liberated (moksha) from the body. An individual's present life is determined by his efforts in previous lives (the law of karma), and the physical body is ultimately an illusion (maya). Bodies are usually cremated, and the soul goes to an intermediate state of punishment or reward before rebirth into another body. Reincarnations are experienced until karma has been removed and the individual soul is reabsorbed into Brahman. Freedom from infinite being and final self-realization of the truth (moksha) is the goal of existence. Yoga and meditation (especially raja-yoga) taught by a religious teacher (guru) is one way to attain moksha. The other paths for moksha are the way of works (karma marga), the way of knowledge (jnana marga), and the way of love and devotion (bhakti marga). Hinduism's fundamental goal is to escape the cycle of reincarnation, and thereby to erase the illusion of personal existence - eventually becoming one with Brahman".
http://www.allaboutreligion.org/transcendental-meditation.htm

A Meditation on Quantum Entanglement

Aum.
Flowing wisps of Self
dissolve:
egocentricity recedes,
lost in the Cosmic Now.

A vibration,
a pulse,
a profound sense of Balance,
of inclusion:
the arrival of Truth.

Within the peaceful vastness
the growing awareness
of Light:
countless tiny flames
acting as One,
coalescing,
joining,
uniting,
growing.

Awareness
of countless Chakra chimes
vibrating as One,
resonating with the Whole.
Belonging.
Becoming.
Being.
Now.

Darkened Horizon

In cosmology, the Hubble volume, or Hubble sphere, is the region of the Universe surrounding an observer beyond which objects recede from the observer at a rate greater than the speed of light, due to the expansion of the Universe. –Wikipedia

Darkened Horizon

With the hubristic narcissism
typical of our species,
we long considered ourselves
the centre of the universe.

We invented gods,
each of whom
focussed solely
on this cosmic speck.

Wars we fight,
again and again,
slaughtering millions
in each “war to end all wars.”

Some small portion of us
consume, use, and pollute
most of our shrunken resources,
while billions starve and die.

Corporations rule
through callow political surrogates,
while compliant media
tell us all is well.

Common sense, and altruism,
within reach of a younger world,
have fled, receding from our memory,
beyond our Hubble Sphere.

Fractal Universe

-->

In physical cosmology, fractal cosmology is a set of minority cosmological theories which states that the distribution of matter in the Universe, or the structure of universe itself, is fractal. More generally, it relates to the usage or appearance of fractals in the study of the universe and matter. A central issue in this field is the fractal dimension of the Universe or of matter distribution within it, when measured at very large or very small scales.

Fractals are encountered in both observational and theoretical cosmology, make an appearance at both extremes of the range of scale, and have been observed at various ranges in the middle. Similarly the use of fractals to answer questions in cosmology has been employed by a growing number of serious scholars close to the mainstream.... –Wikipedia

Fractal Universe

It is of no consequence
whether our questing focus is within
or without:
Mandelbrot decrees
that the pattern reduces or increases
forever.
Slight variations may occur,
but make no change to mathematical
perfection.

Logical and natural progression
I accept, and seek to find my place
in the Pattern.

A Day in the Life

Part of the "Quantum Shift" series.

"The multiverse (or meta-universe [metaverse]) is the hypothetical set of multiple possible universes (including our universe) that together comprise everything that physically exists: the entirety of space and time, all forms of matter, energy and momentum, and the physical laws and constants that govern them. The different universes within the multiverse are sometimes called parallel universes. The structure of the multiverse, the nature of each universe within it and the relationship between the various constituent universes, depend on the specific multiverse hypothesis considered."



"Trans-world identity
A metaphysical issue that crops up in multiverse schema that posit infinite identical copies of any given universe is that of the notion that there can be identical objects in different possible worlds. According to thecounterpart theory of David Lewis, the objects should be regarded as similar rather than identical."



A Day in the Life

The thunderheads, growling down
from the mountains,
put wings to his heels.
The alpine meadow was flat,
with no shelter, no haven.
Deafened by the roar,
he never saw the raw energy
that was his epitaph.

...wings to his heels.
He stopped, relieved to see the storm
pass to the south,
giving his valley a wide birth.
He stopped to drink at the stream,
then paused, puzzled by the rumble
of the flash flood that was his executioner.

...wings to his hooves,
as the slavering beast
halved the distance between them.
The cliffs loomed before him,
and he launched himself into the air,
embraced, and destroyed, by the red breakers
of an angry sea.

...wings to her fins,
as the sheer joy of her passage,
sped her home, through crystal depths,
to her family, pod, and students.
She was old, but others of her kind
lived long and productive years,
after their genetic duties were done.

...wings in his mind,
haunting him, and driving him to heights
of thought, of speculation,
of despair.
Thousands of feathers pounding
their insistence that he break,
and finally rest, covered with their down.

...wings of the rampaging god,
ravenous and eager to accept
the sacrifice of his body.
His tentacles writhed on the black stone alter,
as the fire god screamed acknowledgment.
Fear overcame pride, near the end,
but he did not flinch.

...wings of the seagulls,
gliding on updrafts above his hill.
The wind, from a bay bejewelled by autumn sun,
swept through his pines,
and moved the frost-stiffened grasses.
He sipped his coffee, smiled at the patient dog,
and thought of other realities,
        and peace.

The Observer Effect

“In physics, the term observer effect refers to changes that the act of observation will make on the phenomenon being observed. This is often the result of instruments that, by necessity, alter the state of what they measure in some manner. This effect can be observed in many domains of physics....
A common layman misuse of the term refers to quantum mechanics, where, if the outcome of an event has not been observed, it exists in a state of 'superposition', which is akin to being in all possible states at once. In the famous thought experiment known as Schrödinger's cat, the cat, in a closed box, is supposedly neither alive nor dead until observed. However, most quantum physicists, in resolving Schrödinger's seeming paradox, now understand that the acts of 'observation' and 'measurement' must also be defined in quantum terms before the question makes sense. From this point of view, there is no 'observer effect', only one vastly entangled quantum system.” –Wikipedia

The Observer Effect

We are taught,
from birth, to be aware
of our surroundings;
to be careful before crossing streets;
to beware of strangers bearing candy.

We are conditioned
to set our sights
on a distant horizon
where dawns success,
comfort, and satisfaction.

Our religions demand
we obey the Higher Voice,
made audible by those
who purport to speak for It:
the promise of eternity.

Yet as we age, our linear lives
seek direction;
our focus turns inward,
and our introspection changes us
in ways we could not have imagined.

By virtue of observing ourselves
we transform...
and finally began to understand
that Schrödinger's cat is not important:
it is the nature of the Box
that determines
who we are.

Bubbles in the Quantum Foam

"Quantum foam, also referred to as spacetime foam, is a concept in quantum mechanics, devised by John Wheeler in 1955. The foam is supposedly the foundations of the fabric of the universe, but it can also be used as a qualitative description of subatomic spacetime turbulence at extremely small distances of the order of the Planck length. At such small scales of time and space the uncertainty principle allows particles and energy to briefly come into existence, and then annihilate, without violating conservation laws. As the scale of time and space being discussed shrinks, the energy of the virtual particles increases. Since energy curves spacetime according to Einstein's theory of general relativity, this suggests that at sufficiently small scales the energy of the fluctuations would be large enough to cause significant departures from the smooth spacetime seen at larger scales, giving spacetime a "foamy" character. However, without a theory of quantum gravity it is impossible to be certain what spacetime would look like at these scales, since it is thought that existing theories do not give accurate predictions in this domain. However, observations of radiation from nearby quasars by Floyd Stecker of NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Md., have placed strong limits on the possible violations of Einstein's Special Theory of Relativity implied by the existence of quantum foam." – Wikipedia.

Bubbles in the Quantum Foam

Poverty. Borrowed tin plates
serving sparse meals.
Three stark rooms
sparingly furnished.

Explosion. No work.
Relocation,
youthful confusion,
resentment.

A new reality,
of alcoholics, and the mildly deranged:
fellow students in a new school
with a very different curriculum.

Mining camp fights,
where freedom
carries its own route
to oblivion.

Repeated relocation,
and imposed regimentation:
new skills, and travel thrills
in my own personal globe.

Planes, capital cities,
acquired graces
and horrid gaffes:
progression through confusion.

Discovery, in Sri Lanka,
of alternatives,
of freedoms linked
to grave responsibility.

Cobbled streets of Bucharest,
no hope, no direction,
no love. Lost,
then brilliant redemption.

High Commissioner’s table
in Delhi, with conversation
to soothe philosophical soul:
intellectual signposts to Dharma.

Tranquillity, on a hill
above the Atlantic,
with Cosmic wind in the pines,
enhancing Brahman’s Spark.

All slices of Being:
bubbles in the Quantum Foam,
unexpected, unexplained.
When is happening Now.

Event Horizon

“In general relativity, an event horizon is a boundary in spacetime, most often an area surrounding a black hole, beyond which events cannot affect an outside observer. Light emitted from beyond the horizon can never reach the observer, and any object that approaches the horizon from the observer's side appears to slow down and never quite pass through the horizon, with its image becoming more and more redshifted as time elapses. The travelling object, however, experiences no strange effects and does, in fact, pass through the horizon in a finite amount of proper time.”
–Wikipedia

Event Horizon

As individuals we build personae,
complex and byzantine,
for others to peruse.
Adjustments, both minor and major,
occur regularly
as our image of self,
and our perceived life-objectives
change and develop.

As we age, the logarithmic acceleration
of time is frightening,
and we become less concerned
with how others perceive us.
We seek solace, in religion,
in medication, in self-pity,
or in a manic rush
of “look-at-me-I’m-still-the-same” activity
that denies the increasing and relentless pull
of our own,
and very personal,
Event Horizon.

Singularity

Unique,
and nothing has ever been
or will ever be,
     perhaps,
quite like this.

All Realities merge
in this magical place,
and logic is suspended
in the light
     of glaring Truth.
All directions are as one,
and all times are Now,
as endless possibilities
project infinite cycles.

Time shifts, and in the peculiarities
of this strange and singular phenomenon, 
remains mostly the same,
but with subtle and endless variations
that rehearse their roles
in each and every
     bright
            new
                   Day.

TransitionVid

The Wise Man

He was an old man who had reached a plateau
of peace, and of contentment,
both on the personal
and spiritual level.

He had, in his youth, travelled far and frequently,
observing diverse and different
social mores and customs.
He sought the arcane, and thrived on the esoteric,
seeking both through books and conversations
with sages and scholars,
soldiers and fools.

He learned from youthful mistakes,
incorporating the lessons into his life.
He believed in teaching his children through example,
through logical conclusion and experience,
discounting fairy tales and folk myths,
popular culture and politics,
as simply interesting stories,
and deviations from
the Quest for Truth.

He explored his inner solitudes,
and contemplated the unknown vastness,
the unknowable mysteries
of Being:
of how There goes on forever,
and how it is that Now
is eternal.
He understood the concept
of probability,
of multiple realities,
and how quantum theory
opened doors of thought
that should change human condition.
He held the magic,
this old man,
that could lift our tragic lives
to a level of contentment
and understanding
unimagined.
He held the wisdom
to save untold suffering
and hardship,
to dispel superstition
and prejudice:
the keys to a new Renaissance of Man.

He spoke, and those listening
heard not the wisdom nor the magic,
but saw an old man with weakened voice
and tired eyes,
and laughed at his words,
calling him silly and feeble.

So the world went its way
of pain,
and of stumbling
towards the unknown,
blind and unprepared,
while the old man
meditated,
and thought,
and was content
forever.

Quantum Mechanics, and a Walk in the Fog

The dog was uninvolved,
sniffing,
           and shifting 
between his ever-varying
Realities,
validated
by his Nose.

Fog, for me,
always enables countless 
gateways:

the smell of grass in the summer air
intoxicating
a five-year-old  boy,
a seascape in 1946:

the moonpath from
a Poya Moon, and
the Galle Face Hotel,
patio all a-silver
in that magick light:

the rough security of my Father’s hand
in mine,
during long 
and happy walks home:

the song of the Howler monkeys
at dawn
at the Water Conservancy Lodge
on the Guyanese savannah:

true memories all,
located at different temporal loci
along the serendipitous path
of my life,
but then again,
          then again

the fog shifts,
and we huddle,
awaiting the blessing
of the Stone Circle,
while the smaller of the two suns
broke dawn
with showers of violet
     and then
          and then

a grey glimpse
of something
     so incredible,
          so phenomenally
beautiful
            that ...

Dog perused 
guardrail scents
judiciously,
while an eastern sun
drank away the mist,
and any quantum foam
that may have
remained.

Jim's Guide to Enlightenment: The Complete Sutras Video

Twenty minutes of reading,

and walking
on my Path.

The Vale of Kashmir

A chill wind descends
from the lofty meadows of Gulmarg.
It carries the scent of those same wildflowers
that captivated noble Sultan
Yusuf Khan six hundred years ago.
It sweeps across the mirror surface
of Dal Lake,
gently rocking the stately cedar houseboats
that recall the elegance of the Raj.
Busy shikaras, those bustling workboats
of this Venice of the Himalayas,
ply their trade along watery avenues
bordered by tall deciduous trees
whose leaves and blossoms
give accent to these shining lanes.

In Srinagar’s marketplace
the vendors’ calls
exaggerate the splendour of their wares.
The cacophony is joined
by the muezzin calling the faithful
to the ancient mosque Jama Masjid,
where Sultan Sikandar
sought favour with his god.
The market’s wooden buildings
have a worn and beaten look:
the price of continuing war
and ethnic violence engraved
on their facades.

Far above the valley,
on the fabled road to Ladakh,
the golden fields of mustard
wave a tribute
to the snow-clad guardians
of this troubled valley:
the mountains wait,
and dream of peace.
Glacial streams leap noisily
to strengthen roots
of mighty chinar trees,
whose ancient spires
daily fall to economic growth.
Across the valley
the Nanga Parbat mountains
swallow a golden sun,
and darkness
claims its due.

Rishikesh

After the holy city of Haridwar
the dusty plains are left behind.
In the distance the foothills climb
to the top of the world,
and here, like an Intercessor
between the gods and man,
nestles Rishikesh.
Embracing Mother Ganga
this religious fantasy come true
hosts graceful temples,
garish artifacts,
peaceful ashrams.

The gentle sweetness of charas
fills the air, and the eyes of sadhus,
and other holy men,
testify to the effectiveness
of their communion.
Avatars walk the narrow streets,
surrounded by the swirling notes
of chants and mantras,
pleased with this bustling invocation
of the ancient Way.

The ghats are busy,
confirming the endless dance of Natraj,
with the fire and smoke
symbolising destruction and rebirth,
while the Ganges welcomes
the ashen remnants
of this cycle of the Wheel.
Floating candles in small clay boats
illuminate the river’s gentle flow,
bearing sparks of Brahman home.

Avalon: A Tribute to Arthurian Legend

The carnage lies behind me now,
the battle sounds have gone:
the morning mist lifts to reveal
the shores of Avalon.

My broken soul and body pain
but I must stumble on
to spend what time is left me
on the isle of Avalon.

We thought we could bring mighty change:
our righteousness had shone;
but now I only seek to rest
upon sweet Avalon.

Excalibur has turned to rust,
ne’er more to be drawn:
no conflict will ever touch
the shores of Avalon.

Fair Camelot is gone to ruin
in this dark and cold new dawn,
and I go now to seek my rest
on gentle Avalon.

Who Put the Brutes in Charge?

Who put the brutes in charge?
All around us black rain falls:
war, incarceration, empowered police,
draconian and paternalistic laws,
intolerance of gays, drug users,
homeless, immigrants, liberals,
religious intolerance and prejudice.
Societal problems are answered
with military might,
with repression and invasion,
with incarceration,
and with death.

Who put the brutes in charge?
This should be the age of global equality,
with water and health,
with education for all.
We have the wealth,
we have the technology,
and multitudes of people
who want to help,
who long to make a difference.

When did we put the brutes in charge?
When did we empower military adventurism
and social repression?
When did we give our permission
to ruin the global economies,
and to wreck the environment?
Who said we should let oppression continue,
and corporate adventurism to thrive?

Why did we put the brutes in charge?
Are we so addicted
and conditioned to control and punishment
that we let social justice die?
We give our conscience money
to diverse charities
while permitting dictators
and repressive regimes to continue unscathed.
We repeat platitudes about
doing unto others
while the Pope, advocating abstinence,
condemns condom use to control Aids.

Who put the brutes in charge?
Who empowered such greed
for wealth and power
to control our lives,
and the future of the planet?
We did, and we continue,
to stay with what we know,
to respond to our conditioning
to the propaganda of greed and hate,
to the politics of fear and consumerism,
to do the easy thing.

We put the brutes in charge:
isn’t it time we changed
our political criteria?
Isn’t it time for thinking people,
for caring people,
to make our voices heard?
Where are the intellectuals,
the social liberals, the progressives?
Where are the religious moderates,
and dinner party philosophers
who call for a better way?

We put the brutes in charge:
this brutish geo-political Ferris wheel
must stop, must become a nightmare of the past,
must join the Inquisition,
the Salem witch trials,
the Holocaust,
the Khmer Rouge,
al Qaeda,
on the trash heap of history.
Thinking people must speak out,
and make our voices heard:
an ever growing thunder
that heralds the dawn
of social renaissance,
of change,
of the way that things can be,
should be,
must be.
Who put the brutes in charge?

Depression

The following is not a happy poem, but I had been reviewing the "Anger.." series and it came to me as relevant to the series, as one in three Canadians suffer from this affliction which, in far too many cases, becomes a permanent and life changing condition.


Depression

Wave after dark wave descends,
crashes down upon me
with the suffocating weight
of myriad sorrows,
far, far too much to bear.

Thoughts swarm like bees
to cover me with the pervasive buzz
of worries, of pains,
of soul-wrenching sadness:
I cannot breathe.

I struggle, frantically seeking light,
the comfort of past glories,
the glow of happy memories;
but the solid black blanket
stifles even faintest spark.

I am exhausted, and withdraw
further into my besieged core,
where there remains nothing
of the person I once was:
I am gone.

Childhood's Dream

I had a dream in which I grew
from childhood to old age;
through adolescent awkwardness
into a young man’s rage.
The challenges of parenthood,
each day a separate trial,
brought me slowly forward,
learning all the while.

My life was filled with wonder,
diversity, and thought:
sometimes my choices rang with truth,
other times they did not.
I slowly trekked my chosen Path
and learned from each mistake,
trying not to dwell too long
on Paths I did not take.

My peers and I grew older:
some sickened, others died,
while all along Serenity
grew closer to my side.
My body slowly weakened,
but my mind grew calm and wise,
and I cherished each clear starlit night,
each morning’s bright sunrise.

Then suddenly I wakened-
the sleep had left my eyes,
and I wept to see the marvel
of bright and strange new skies.
With sudden understanding
I knew that all was One,
and accepted with glad laughter,
that my Childhood had begun.

Credo Ergo Sum, Mark III

I have been working towards encapsulating my basic spiritual beliefs into an understandable form. This remains very much a work in progress, as all of life is, but this is only beginning, and not the end, of my own personal Path and Dharma.

When we moved to Timmins as economic refugees from Nova Scotia in 1947, my mother was faced with the daunting task of making new friends, while not having the funds nor furniture to entertain in our home. When we first arrived, in September, we lived on Birch Street North, with my Uncle Willis (Crooks) and Aunt Val. Later that winter we moved to 7th Avenue, but on Birch Street we were just two lots away from the Pentecostal Tabernacle, where Mum’s cousin, Marguerite (nee Latham) Harman and her family attended. Mum decided we would start to attend.

As a six year old, I found church boring, although Sunday School was sometimes fun. Further, the church music was fun and bouncy, rather than slow and sad. It was only during the mandatory Altar Call, with the mournful, I-am-a-miserable-sinner-save-me-lord music that accompanied the Call, that I really objected to being there. Another thing that I found disturbing was the speaking in tongues, where one of the congregation, in the grip of religious ecstasy, would stand and speak in a weird language, while everyone else chimed in with expressions of “Halleluiah,” “Praise the Lord,” “Yes, Jesus,” and the like. It was a scary time for me at six, and continued to be scary until I stopped going to church at sixteen.

We often hosted visiting preachers from the southern USA, and their stories of heathen, and Catholics in foreign countries torturing good Christian missionaries disturbed me greatly. I knew Catholics, and they were certainly not looking to torture anyone, any more than Buddhist Tommy Wong’s parents were going to burn me at the stake.

I found the many Bible stories boring (I was reading four or five library books a week by the time I was nine) and found the parables of the New Testament, and the many troubles of the Old Testament Israelites of no relevance to me and my situation. The constant pleas for me to “accept Jesus” and “let Christ into your heart,” confused me, and made me feel somehow unclean and not worthy to be with these people. I had no quarrel with Jesus, but these people selling him made me feel guilty: hey! I was a kid like all kids, no better, no worse, and could not see my actions as causing Christ any pain. I am sure that when He said “suffer the little children” that He did not mean to make them feel uncomfortable and guilty.

I continued to read, both fiction and non-fiction, history, science, and geography, and found much satisfaction and enjoyment in learning about our human condition, a welcome contrast to old Bible stories. I read about the Reformation, and that prior to that, the entire Christian church was Catholic!!! Slowly I was discovering that I had very little in common with the good and sincere people of the Pentecostal Tabernacle.

It was the 50s, and rock ‘n’ roll was beginning. To hear the minister preach against the evils of rock, while I had been reading in the newspapers about the lynching of blacks in the Southern USA, and the Jim Crow laws, and the vindictiveness of McCarthyism, seemed a strange dichotomy, and one that I could not reconcile. Oh, and let us not forget the evil of movies, and the newer television, although if you used the TV to watch the insane televangelist Oral Roberts, or Billy Graham, it was okay. Girls, don’t use lipstick or you are headed directly to Hell. Further, I found it difficult to accept that if you were not born again, you were lost. Period. Talk about being excluded.

In short, although the people of the congregation were good and kind people, their focus was not the same as mine. Their Hell sounded to me, a little more comfortable (although not a lot) than their Heaven, with milk, honey, manna, and walking around praising God forever. I could never understand why an all powerful God should look like an old white guy with a beard. No thank you. I understood that the church gave my mother some degree of belonging and spiritual peace, and, as such, it was a good thing...for her.

That is how my search started, way back at age sixteen. As I grew older and travelled further, and read more, I still did not know the nature of my spirituality, but I became increasingly aware of what it was not.

My travels with Foreign Affairs put me into intimate contact with a variety of people from a vast cornucopia of religions. Cocktail parties and dinner parties had me talking to atheists, agnostics, intellectuals, and minor and major functionaries, many of whom contributed to a psychedelic smorgasbord of ideas that made the chemical dreams of Dr. Timothy Leary seem small and monochromatic.

These are some of the quotes and ideas that have shown me that others think as I do, with the slight variations that make us unique and different.

Kimya Dawson: from “I Like Giants”

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights, get out and look up at the sky.
And I do this to remind me that I'm really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me.

But it's only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I'd be because I've never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything

Rock and roll is fun but if you ever hear someone
Say you are huge, look at the moon, look at the stars, look at the sun
Look at the ocean and the desert and the mountains and the sky
Say I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye
I am just a speck of dust inside a giant's eye.


Beatle George Harrison wrote, in "Within You Without You" the following:

We were talking
about the space between us all,
and people who hide themselves
behind a wall of illusion
never glimpse the truth
then it's far too late
when they pass away.

We were talking
about the love we all could share,
When we find it.
To try our best to hold it there
with our love, with our love
we could save the world
if they only knew.

Try to realize it's all within yourself
no one else can make you change
And to see you're really only very small
and life flows on within you and without you.

We were talking
about the love that's gone so cold
and the people who gain the world
and lose their soul.
They don't know, they can't see:
Are you one of them?

When you've seen beyond yourself
then you may find
peace of mind is waiting there;
And the time will come
when you see we're all one
and life flows on within you and without you

These following extracted definitions have been useful to me on my Path, and will clarify some of the subjects I write about:

Zoroastrianism: Truth and order are in universal conflict with falsehood and disorder. Active participation in life through good thoughts, good words and good deeds is necessary to ensure happiness and to keep the chaos at bay.

In the Taittariya Upanishad (II.1) where Brahman is described in the following manner: satyam jnanam anantam brahman - "Brahman is of the nature of truth, knowledge and infinity". Thus, Brahman is the origin and end of all things, material or otherwise. Our Atman (or soul) is readily identifiable with the greater soul of Brahman.

Dharma signifies the underlying order in nature and life (human or other) considered to be in accord with that order. The word dharma is generally translated into English as 'law' and literally translates as ‘that which upholds or supports' (from the root ‘Dhr' - to hold), here referring to the order which makes the cosmos and the harmonious complexity of the natural world possible.

Karma simply deals with what is. The effects of all deeds actively create past, present and future experiences, thus making one responsible for one's own life, and the pain and joy it brings to them and others.

After years of trying to meditate, listening to guided mediation CDs, reading books on mediation, I finally, one afternoon in the early fall of 2007, managed to reach a meditative state. After a time of enhanced visual perception, the position of my hands, my knees, and my feet seemed to be in lotus shapes. Colours became heavy, and overlaid with that type of golden light that comes late in a sunny autumn day. I was focussing on the lotus bud shape that my hands, fingertips touching, were making, when a swirling gold/red maelstrom started to form visually, causing my lotus/hands to disappear. I felt that I was on a dark earth, looking at the heavens, and seeing this red vortex as, perhaps, a vast galaxy, or even universe.

I then started receding as though I was being removed in perspective from the maelstrom at an incredible speed. Shortly I could see that the maelstrom, now starting to get smaller because of my rapid perspective change, was in fact the eye of an indescribably large idol, not unlike the Easter Island statues. As I receded further into the cosmos, I could see that the eye was moving, and that the idol was actually sentient. Although the only feature of this Being that my mind could comprehend was the eye, I could see what appeared to be a blob of dust collected in the corner of the eye, and intuitively knew that our planet, and indeed our entire galaxy, was within this blob.

Speeding faster and further away, the Being continued to shrink into the growing cosmic distance, and I could see that this Being was looking at, and bowing to, yet another similar, but unbelievably larger, Being of the same general composition. That Being, I soon came to see, was doing exactly the same thing with regards to yet another, and larger, Being. I intuitively understood that the same thing would have happened had I looked inward rather than outward, and that the Beings were whole, complete, and endless, and that our souls were inextricably bound to, and part of, this endless Cosmic All.

Throughout this vision, I could see waves of energy pulsing and flowing like a cosmic aurora borealis, and I could both hear and feel the tonal vibrations generated by these waves. Simultaneously I felt a sense of profound understanding, and a certain knowledge that these waves were the pulse of the Cosmic Good, the universal feng shui, as it were, the basis of chakra tones and colours, and the Prime Warrior in the universal battle between Order and Chaos. I knew that by being aware of, and listening to the timbre of these waves, I could align, to tune, my life to extract the most benefit from this universal flow, and indeed, through positive thought and action, contribute to the victory of Order.

The lotus shape of my hands started to come into focus again, and I had the profound feeling that it all went on forever, and in more directions and dimensions than our feeble human condition could ever comprehend. We were part of it all, and all was connected to all. Time, space, and reality existed on every level imaginable, and we are all connected to everything that ever was or will be.

The lesson I gleaned from this profound experience was simple: listen to the universal vibration, and live life so that your spark of Brahman guides you, and enables you to burn more brightly. Further, we are part of everything, and always will be, and our only rational course is to burn our brightest in the Now, whenever that Now may be.

Daughter Kelly and I had an online discussion in January (2008) about personal comfort zones, and how it was important to challenge one’s self on occasion. I then realised that at this stage in my life I am more reclusive, spending my days at Greyhavens in domestic and parental peace. I like to think that I am as open-minded and think “outside the box” as much as ever, but challenging my comfort zone is now (more or less) a thing of the past. We concluded that this contemplative stage was part of the life cycle. During part of our lives we gather experiences and get to know ourselves by expanding ourselves, our minds, our comfort zones and then when we reach a certain point, we can withdraw from the search and still be expanding our souls. (Kelly’s words, with which I fully concur.)

She then went on to formulate the following image.

Imagine that we are like a pebble dropped into a pond. Then imagine we can chose to remain the pebble all our lives, or we can chose to become the energy of the ripple, expanding our reach and horizons. If we stay safe and remain as the pebble, our world is eternally limited and tangible. But, if we become the ripple, we expand ever outwards (during the ensuing phase of life) expanding our comfort zone and knowledge. Then we become still, on the shore of our lives, part of the pond, part of the forest, part of the world and the universe beyond. This is the contemplative part of our life, when withdrawing can be an expansive act. End of Kelly’s image.

We each, as we travel the Path, encounter different choices, different forks in the road: the measure of the man is not in the fork he chooses, rather in how he adapts to, and makes the best of, the choices he has made.

Since early 2008, I have reached a different place in my outlook: oh, I still have my opinions, strong and different, but I no longer feel that I must make those opinions known to others. I am content within myself. I call it "being in touch with the Spark of Brahman," or "listening to the Universal Vibration," but, whatever it is, it has given me the peace and tranquillity that I have long sought.

I continue to despair at organised religion, while finding that the various religious writings offer certain similar glimpses of a universal truth. As far as the various formal religions ever agreeing on what is the best way to work together to achieve a greater good for their adherents, it can never happen, simply because the formal organisations are self-perpetuating, and serve themselves, albeit ostensibly in the service of a greater power.

For me, the communication between a man and his higher power, whatever that may be, is the responsibility of that man, not of a political and self-perpetuating clergy who seek to direct and to use that man to further their ambitious plans. It is not the individuals in any religion or belief system that do harm, it is the guidance of the hierarchy that seeks to pervert and bend universal truth for its own end. Hence, spirituality becomes a personal thing, a means of communicating directly with one's higher plane. One who is truly content and at one with the universe does not seek to convert, merely to encourage each man to think for himself, to question absolutes, to avoid dogma and platitudes, and never resort to using the word "faith" in any discussion as a valid argument point.

The first step to finding a means for all people to work and live together is for each person to find what is right for them, within themselves. They do not need to be told. The various parables of sheep and shepherds are telling, in that they show how an established clergy view their parishioners. We do not need to be given "messages from God" by one who claims to be the mouthpiece of said god. Any god worth his salt would speak directly, not through a plastic haired mouthpiece with a Texas accent, or a turbaned fanatic with flecks of spittle in his beard as he calls for jihad. They need to find acceptance of themselves within themselves. They need to find peace within, and stop trying to sell others on their own personal version of Truth/Peace/Eternity.

We are evolved beings, and we each have the means of doing right and finding Truth. We need to recognise that all the prophets, including Jesus, Moses, Mohammed, Gautama Siddhartha, and Zoroaster, were like all of us, and some of what they speak is universal and true. We need to know that whatever we call the higher power, be it God, Yahweh, Allah, Brahman, Cosmic Balance, Universal Truth, does not require fear and abject obedience, nor conversion: it requires simply that we listen to our inner voice, and do the right thing by us and by our neighbours in this global village that is our present earth.

To me the world's religions are not meant to be taken literally, but to be interpreted as parables of various sages who offer their beliefs in an attempt to enlighten some small corner of human knowledge into the mysteries. With regards Jesus, I truly cannot say whether or not he existed as the man/god described in the New Testament, I have read texts that suggest the stories were based upon an actual teacher and sage, and other texts that claim he is an amalgamation of various other man/god characters from earlier history. My belief is that it really does not matter. His core teachings, whether or not plagiarised from earlier philosophers or not, are valid ... the bastardisation of those teachings by a power hungry Church establishment are of no consequence to me.

The basic moral concepts are available to everyone through the world's religious texts, and, as I say, have only been modified from their original Truth and clarity by a clergy greedy for influence and control. All of this, of course, is in my humble opinion, and is not to cast down anyone's belief system. Whatever works for anyone, as long as it does not impact negatively upon ones fellow man.

I have composed “Jim’s Guide to Enlightenment” and the Sutras therein to codify some of beliefs and discoveries. I use the Vedic format rather than the later Buddhist format because I consider the earlier philosophy much closer to my belief than is the much younger Buddhism. These definitions have been gleaned from Wikipedia and explain my belief much better than I can.

In Hinduism the 'sutra' is a distinct type of literary composition, based on short aphoristic statements, generally using various technical terms. The literary form of the sutra was designed for concision, as the texts were intended to be memorized by students in some of the formal methods of scriptural and scientific study. Since each line is highly condensed, another literary form arose in which commentaries on the sutras were added, to clarify and explain them.

One of the most famous definitions of a sutra in Indian literature is itself a sutra and comes from the Vayu Purana:
"Of minimal syllabary, unambiguous, pithy, comprehensive, / non-redundant, and without flaw: who knows the sutra knows it to be thus."

Vedanta is a spiritual tradition explained in the Upanishads that is concerned with the self-realisation by which one understands the ultimate nature of reality (Brahman) and teaches the believer's goal is to transcend the limitations of self-identity and realize one's unity with Brahman. Vedanta is not restricted or confined to one book and there is no sole source for Vedantic philosophy. Vedanta is based on two simple propositions:

1. Human nature is divine.

2. The aim of human life is to realize that human nature is divine.

The goal of Vedanta is a state of self-realisation or cosmic consciousness. Historically and currently, it is assumed that this state can be experienced by anyone (given the proper training and discipline), but it cannot be adequately conveyed in language.

The Upanishads speak of an universal spirit (Brahman) and of an individual soul (Atman), and at times assert the identity of both. Brahman is the ultimate, both transcendent and immanent, the absolute infinite existence, the sum total of all that ever is, was, or shall be.

In short, I find good in all religions, but abhor the absolute "we are right" attitude that goes with most of them. I believe that the essence of truth, as applied to our species, can be distilled down to these two ideas:

1) Harm no one, or, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

2) Listen to your soul, your conscience, your Spark of Brahman, your Atman, and through that listening, learn to hear what it tells you.

At the core of my belief is that we are all connected (the Spark of Brahman, our Atman, of which I speak) and when we pass from this existence, the spark reunites with the Cosmic whole, from whence we came. The vast nebula of human knowledge and religion does not even begin to explore nor understand the Cosmic mysteries. We can only grope about in the darkness and try to sense a small portion of the ultimate Truth.

The Quest continues...

Meteorite

We burn intensely for our brief time,
as though the atmosphere of living
is too intense for these
transitional vessels
we call our bodies.

Parents and other relatives,
friends and neighbours,
strangers whom we have never met,
all pass in one fleeting moment,
leaving only an afterimage,
a cosmic afterglow,
on the retina of our lives.

To endow it with meaning
we create gods, and interpret dreams.
We sing songs, and create stories.
Some meditate, yet others despair,
finding anguish, not solace,
within.

Yet we continue to dream
and create; to contemplate
and medicate.
We dance our wild dance,
living in this moment,
this magic, tragic and fleeting
        *** flash ***
that is our sum total.

And when it is our time
to burn across that starry sky,
our afterimage will long be felt,
not for the brilliance of our passing,
but for its absence
in a darkened sky.

Come the Revolution

Come the Revolution

Over the past several days there has been an acrimonious discussion taking place on a CBC News forum over the refusal of the Canadian Minister of Science, Gary Goodyear, to state whether or not he believes in evolution.

Two terrifying facts that this discussion has brought to light are:

a. The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms states, right at the beginning, "Whereas Canada is founded upon principles that recognize the supremacy of God and the rule of law: ...", and,

b. The Globe and Mail poll yesterday (circa 16 March) shows that fully 46 percent of respondents do not believe in evolution.

Given that our present government has moved us, via the politics of fear, closer to a fascist state, with a much stronger morality-based enforcement industry, and a culture that proclaims "everyone in a uniform is a hero," I fear that, should we continue our jackbooted march upon this road, the fundamentalist mob will start rounding up all atheists, agnostics, animists, and non-Christians, citing the Charter as justification and praising our Kevlar-clad "heroes" as they taser us into submission before dragging us off to "re-education" centres where we will be forced to endure plastic-haired televangelists preaching at us with southern U.S. accents.

To quote John Stuart Mill, "No great improvements in the lot of mankind are possible until a great change takes place in the fundamental constitution of their modes of thought."

It is long past time for an intellectual revolution.

Silent Hill 2 - Music Box Fan Vocal Version + Lyrics

The Night That Music Died

On February 3rd, 1959, Ray Greene, myself and another friend of Ray's were spending the weekend at Rays's home in Whitefish, Ontario, just outside of Sudbury. I had the weekend off from my night watchman job at Algom Nordic, and Ray and his friend were working as cleaners at a Crawley McCracken construction camp at the new Elliot Lake Hospital site.

We were rocking and rolling at a local dance, when someone walked in and told us that Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper had just died in a plane crash. We were devastated...we knew the words to every song that both Buddy and Richie sang, and just loved J. P. Richardson's "Chantilly Lace." In true 50s' style, we pooled our resources and went to the nearest bootlegger where we purchased, and consumed, a mickey of Captain Morgan Black and a mickey of Tradition Rye Whiskey.

We stumbled back through the winter night to Ray's home singing the complete repetoire, albeit not very tunefully.

By the time Don McLean wrote about "the day the music died" in his 1971 song, American Pie, I had travelled far afield from the mines of Elliot Lake, and had lost touch with Ray. Rock and Roll, however, still lived on through several incarnations.

Rock on, Buddy, Richie, and J. P. Rock and Roll will never die (although presently it may be said to need a transfusion).