Sojourn-Tsuketanai

As I walk through the ancestral homeland of my family in this lifetime, I wonder what they would have thought of this place, here and now, in this moment? The marvel of American culture, our biggest export to date- the suburbs-seem to be all that is left of this land. In this lifetime, I was part of the never-ending spread of the cancer known as civilization, burning into the unknowing and the un-expecting wild. I was part of the problem. I was/am/will be the cancer.

What would they have thought, those that have passed before me, those who have decided not to return? I always seem to be somber, when I come back to this land.
My life here was one of indecision and sheepish behaviors, which I masked in a cloak of bravery and drugs, but I was really just full of hot air and bravado, all the while trying to seem better than I was. My fore bearers were the real trail-blazers of this land, the real heroes of everyday life. They took the time to cross the great barrier to get here. They uprooted their lives to lay the groundwork for others to live here, yet, I find my own emotion in this place replete with disdain.

Would they feel the same way? Would they look at the world they had forged and been happy?

I realize that I am a weak individual, who is prone towards bouts of insanity, depression and very questionable decision making, but who were they, really?
I wonder.
Did they truly commit the feats that have been told and retold in the family history. Were they as wise and sage, as I am stupid? Tough call to know for sure.

You see, I know, that in my heart I am a selfish man. I know in my heart, I will never live up to the truth of their fables and I know, that in my heart, I will not be destined to match their greatness.
I remain in competition with a shadowy form of truth of called testimony. But who were they in competition with?

It is in this place, in this corn filled, fast food, suburban heaven, that time remains frozen for me. It seems to have changed, but in it’s heart, it is much like the snow globes we all enjoy. Shaken, but never changed.
And I am always changed, but never shaken. I can’t tell which is better. They both seem perverse in some way.

There is a term we used to use when I was much younger, in a different land with a different tribe. All of whom have perished from that land. Some died from disease, some from violence, some from their own hand. But I, for some odd reason have survived that moment of insanity. The term was in a pseudo Japanese form. I say pseudo because I really have no idea where it came from or even if it really was Japanese, yet we all gave it the deference of being real. (I guess that is the definition of reality anyway).

Tsuketani-
We thought it meant being unattached. Being able to walk above the clouds without any earthly considerations. The walk we thought every artist should do.
Needless to say, I was very young and arrogant in those days and believed art was drawn directly from the heavens and not synthesized from the heavens via our own life, our own experiences-then brought into existence with all of the pain and joy of childbirth
But I digress.
Here in this land, I am Tsuketanai, I am unattached. I walk above the pyramids, I walk above the industry, the farms, the bars, the houses and the sphinxes. I walk above the beauty and the horror that is called the past and wonder.
How did I survive?

Selah
The rev

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Sojourn-Flying 9-25-13

I’m sitting in a bar at SFO in the New Virgin terminal and it’s nothing like what flying has been in the recent past. I mean, I hate the fuck out of flying, but it’s a necessary evil in our modern society. I mean who has actual time to take a wagon train to the east coast?
So we fly.
We are herded like cattle, through the turnstiles, photographed, berated, searched and probed, and the sad part is, we say it’s OK! In the name of security you can use the rubber glove. In the name of security you can look at my shiny white ass.
Fuck it!. I’m 4 tequila’s in and I’m ready for the mats.
I will say that I am utterly surprised at the Virgin America terminal. I’m sitting right now at the Cat Corra restaurant and bar listening to a wonderful LIVE piano player, playing some standards (God bless Cole porter!) feeling like I am living the promise of the 1950’s airline commercials. All I need now is the offer of a condoshare and I’m the king.

While I truly hate flying, I love to check out other folks while I fly. I like to people watch as I sit and get completely trashed at the airport bars. I make up stories about them, who they are, where they are going, what their life is like.
Sometimes, I just sit and eavesdrop on others and comment to myself on what they say. (Depending upon what and how much I’m drinking, will determine the rudeness of my responses).
As an example, next to me some tourists are talking about the Americas Cup. How exciting and great it was, what a boon to San Francisco….. I wanted to beat them senseless with my wonderfully spiced sweet potato fries! (Ahh Tequilla, the brawling booze…)
A bit about the cup; It’s a bullshit-rich white business man’s sport. It didn’t bring in anywhere near what the folks over at Oracle promised the city and now they are feeding the press numbers without proof, just to stay ahead of the backlash.  It costs more to build the ships, then feed a family for 10 years.

Fuck them!!
If you really want to see a race, maybe all of the CEO’s of the sponsoring companies should be put out in rubber dingys on the bay with a bunch of great white sharks following them. Now that would be exciting!
I have a great idea that would absolutley be a boon to SF. Larry Elison, in honor of his great victory, should donate what it cost to build his boat (8-10 million dollars..) to San Francisco food banks and homeless shelters. Now that would be a great win!

Ok, 5 tequilas now. But I’m road ready, so it takes a bit…. The piano player is playing a Glen Campbell tune, “ the Lineman” , very apropos.

More on the cup; Everyone and I mean everyone around me has oracle t-shirts, bags, condoms, you fuckin name it. Maybe I should just go up and puke my 6 tequila’s on their brand new $150 dollar sailing jackets?
Nah too much of a waste of good booze!

Selah

the rev

Atonement

Today is what the Jewish religion calls, Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
A day where you get to say you’re sorry for all your wrong doings and plead mercy to your god and ask forgiveness.
A day where all of your sins are washed away, because you have said:
“I’m Sorry God, please forgive me”.

A Confessional for the Jews.

I kneel by the river and see the course of my life running over the rocks, flowing to where I can’t see.

I like this idea, the idea of confessing your sins. I like the part of self-examination, asking yourself, what was your motivation for being such a jerk or such a thief, the liar or whatever your demons have dictated.
I like the idea of coming clean to yourself.
Although…..I think the act of being forgiven by a Priest or Rabbi is a bit of bullshit- I don’t believe in the representation of god in man-manifest as authority-But what is important is that you have taken a step into becoming whole.
The goddess would like that.

I put my blood on the water, and watch it mingle with my life.

Forgiveness is divine and necessary to move on in life. I, a mere human, who has walked on this earth for many-a-millennia, have cataloged quite a bit of sin. Will I ever be forgiven and who will be there to forgive me? Many of those I have trespassed against are no longer alive. I cannot walk up to them and plead mercy. Many of those that I have wronged, will no longer speak with me-for good reason I’m sure- How do I get forgiveness from them? From the Goddess?
It is impossible, so all we can do is ask ourselves these most important questions:
Will we forgive those who have trespassed on our lives and will we forgive ourselves for being selfish, hateful and usurious and all of the other nasty little things that make up being a societal human in this time and place?

Will we forgive?

If we don’t, why are we bothering to live?

Freedom is in the forgiving. It releases us from the bonds of hate and anxiety that hold us in space and time. Everyone changes. All things must change.

I place the bread on the water and I cast my sins away.

I am at one of the many crossroads that destiny (Bless her crazy ass) has set me on and I must decide which way to go. The problem with decisions is that depending upon your state of mind, they can be one of two things:
They are all bad and by some miracle of a chance, you came out unscathed from harms way or they are all good until they are bad, and then it’s sometimes too late to fix.
Bound to trespass yet again! But that is the truth in life.
Life is a risk and if you don’t live it, you have regrets. If you live it, you make mistakes. It’s just the way it is and actually I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because, I love life, in all it’s bizarre shapes and forms.

So I ask this most important question again. Will I/We forgive? And if not, why?

Selah

The rev

Sine Qua Non

Sine Qua Non-“Without which [there is] nothing”.

I watched today as the president of OUR Untied States has asked to be able to declare war/police action –however small, however it is waged- on Syria.
He claims, just as all his predecessors have, that there is an imminent threat from these leaders and that nothing, absolutely nothing, should stand in the way of the protection of humanity and the American people and her allies.
He is standing alone on the world stage in this because it is not right-not yet.
But still he is standing his ground. It is almost the same defense of action as George Zimmerman. The same defense as King George the second (GW Bush) in Iraq.
“The skittles are poison!”
“This leader is a madman!”
“He is wearing a HOODY!”
Look where that got us.

Sine Qua Non-“An indispensable and essential action, condition, or ingredient”.

Evidence makes me laugh- They can’t find a shred of it to put away any of the thieving bankers or financial mangers that were responsible for the crash of 2008, which put many a hard working American in dire straights. But here, in this land called Syria, a shady gauzy truth will do. You know what they say in Washington….
No evidence is good evidence.
How can they not have proof positive. We are giving them intelligence colonoscopies and endoscopies. We know what they had for breakfast and whom they are going to fuck tonight.
But he just paraded around vague accusations like all his predecessors have. The shady evidence of truth didn’t hold up in Iraq, Lebanon, Vietnam and Korea. (This list just keeps on going). Why should it hold up now?

Sine Qua Non-“Disambiguation”

I’m tired of war. I’m tired of being a servant of the military industrial mindset that promotes force whenever possible. I am tired of just about every president that has ever been in office for the last 100 years plus, starting some sort of war or police action, somewhere in the world.
I’m going to borrow a concept from the great screenwriter, Paddy Chayefsky. In his movie called “Network”, one of the lead characters realized that he is nothing, if not a tool for his corporate overlords along with everyone else and then asks everyone in America to stick their heads out the windows and scream:

“I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!”

We should all be screaming this with all of our might. We should all be screaming this until our throats hurts. We should be screaming this until someone listens.

Selah

The rev