Saturday, August 06, 2016

Summertime and the Living are Uneasy

Back in the day as we oldsters apparently say, things were different. It used to be that old forgetful fart would be relying on his memory to assert that "back in the day...." everything was cheaper, doctors gave a shit, things lasted longer and were made in America by union workers.
Interestingly enough, you might notice that all that stuff is true. Things change. Hell, even I change! For instance, I have lost a lot of weight on purpose and by plan, so I am packing less lard. Furthermore, we garden a lot more area now even though both myself and my sweety-pie are finding it hard to bend, kneel or otherwise move like you must in order to work a garden. This must mean I am alive, since as we all know, life changes things, things which change are alive, even if we don't understand how. Mountain ranges change over time, in fact they might have been an ocean floor at some point in the past/future, and being alive, they have changed over time. Changing life over time is evolution and all things evolve which are changing/alive. Nothing stays the same, because Nothing is a One Part quality. Nothing is all that it is.
Our perceptions of the Universe are changing over time as our sense improve. In the same way a baby is half blind at birth, having not needed vision in the womb, as this sense changes over time they are able to perceive a different Universe. Now that we have so many high resolution cameras in orbit, and super powerful computers to process the feed, we are seeing the old Universe in such a new way it has created a New Universe.
We saw before by visible light, photons hitting our retinas and activating chemical changes in our neural net. When a camera sees in much higher or lower frequencies than the human eye can see, objects and conditions appear which change our understanding of "empty" space.
First of all, we got here by basic Newtonian physics. The way things spin is controlled by the simple physics most of us learned in high school. Gravity, ramps, levers, etc. all work well at low speeds and frequencies. Take those cameras in space: they spin around the planet at speeds relative to their altitudes. When you have thousands of satellites flying around the earth at many different heights you need to know where each one is going to be at any one time, and Newton's Laws and equations always do that for us. The trouble began at different speeds and sizes. When you look at things going at the speed of light or so they no longer quite match those predictions based on Newton, and when great masses are involved, like galaxies, light is noticeably bent into a focus, causing very odd artifacts in the eyes of those cameras. What you see is no longer what you get, should you be able to go there and get anything.
Well, when you examine the things orbiting the entire Universe, i.e. the galaxies, it seems the equations don't match the data. Actually, when you examine the problem you can see that some of the "facts" are actually assumptions, like the mass of the known Universe. That changes the gravitational pull on those galaxies and that changes their speed relative to their orbits.
So, they looked in long wavelengths for those dark Things which were adding so much mass but not radiating in the visible light spectrum. They did not see anything. Then they checked the math and the data and what they realized was they did in fact see what it was, but their perception was spoiled by certain assumptions.
Consider what a bacteria sees when it looks out upon your lower intestinal tract. Chances are, we believe, the bacteria does not see a great ape descendant, or a higher being, but more like a landscape, spread out and mindless before it, waiting to be developed by tens of thousands of similar bacteria. We, of course, assume the bacteria within do nothing of the sort because that would be too scary to admit.
We looked out at the Universe and assumed our perfect human eyes saw all there was to see, and our perfect human minds could figure out what exactly it was we did see. Things change.
95% of the Universe is "Black Matter"... stuff that pervades everything you see but is so monstrously huge that it literally staggers the imagination and you must see it as lifeless. This assumption is not backed by any data. 5% of the Universe is matter like you and Mars, stuff that works by either Newtonian or Quantum physics rules and laws. 5% is Black Energy, stuff which does what energy does but does it in a form and frequency that we just can't perceive it except with complex math, split out among many Big Computers.
Now, with the introduction of the concept we can modify our math used to process images and "see" where the dark matter is relative to the "light" matter which we can see with our own eyes and it is like clouds in our coffee, to be expected because the Universe doesn't like the sort of "order" our brains love to impose on things which have no inherent order, like spots on a piece of paper, or stars in the night sky.
Now that we see and perceive the Universe more properly and it now has a math to fit the data, we can begin to work with reality, maybe new realities to go along with the new understanding of how things move the way they do up there. As we do, perhaps we can also reconsider the idea that the Thinking Thing is looking up at the Nonthinking Thing. Perhaps it is the other way around, perhaps a bit of each. Thus we are looking up at a consciousness so great and made up of energies we have just begun to notice, that it may think of us as less interesting than a benign bacteria in the cosmic gut, undoubtedly incapable of thought/consciousness. It's okay, perhaps it is just as well we are not very noticeable.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

April Showers

The collapse of the American Empire is unfolding before our eyes. Bridges are no longer being repaired, we just put up signs warning heavy trucks to stay off. Schools are closing and villages are merging with towns and counties to save costs. One of the great things about the Internet is that people of like minds can find one another and share views. One of the bad things about the Internet is that people of like minds can find one another and share ideas. So, while we get solutions to problems we also get the rise of the Fascists. The damage the Party has done to the election industry is being felt as a compulsive liar and reality show host is presented as the best of the Right and a power hungry compulsive liar is the darling of the so-called Left. I suppose being Left of Right counts, but since the Right in question is so far to the right it wears a swastika a left leaning person could still be a fascist police state advocate.

Then we have Bernie Sanders.

The Powers in charge misunderstood just how pissed off the People are over the decades of lies, the up-flow of all wealth to the .1%, and the costs of getting their children an education compared to every other civilized nation. So while they teased us allowing Bernie to run as a "Democrat" they pt all their power and money towards a Hilary for President. They can't just put her up as the candidate and still call themselves "Democrats", in reference to the concept of "democracy", so they just do what they can to sabotage his campaign. The heavy-handedness with which they have approached their self-made "problem" is so obvious even Democrats can see it. The vocabulary used to cover the stories is glow-in-the-dark clear: Hilary crushes her opponent whereas Bernie only wins or takes votes.... but whenever they can scrape off votes he earned and give them to Hillary, they do. Not exactly rigged per se, but certainly very little is left to chance or democratic principles.

I often wonder what a society would look like as a democracy. If People could write laws and present them to the People for review, comments and votes, what laws would exist, what kinds of regulations? Now we can have a single person with wealth and power send up a Bill which financially benefits them and their business partners, post it at midnight and weasel enough votes by dawn that it becomes law, once the trained President is allowed to sign it. In a democracy I could draw up a Bill using forms online and present it to the voters for several weeks of comments and perhaps revision before the entire population is allowed to cast a vote and upon winning the majority of the votes, my Bill would become law! At the moment it is against the law for people to write their own laws and vote on them in a general election, this being New York, one of the most corrupt and fascist of states. Furthermore it should be that in a democracy we have Bills which are written on a single subject, no additional unrelated sub-bills allowed. In this way we don't get a Bill to finance the government with an "Easter egg" of concealed perks for a few businessmen.

Most people have been trained to accept any small portion of democracy permitted by the fascists, primarily harmless Bills which declare today to be national bullshit day or some such thing. It brings in extra cash to be part of a committee looking over these useless laws, so our lawmakers like to have plenty of them. It has been observed by the great philosopher Fred Brighton that when all the good and necessary laws have been written we should stop writing new laws, but Congress gets paid both by salary and by number of laws passed, so we then start getting absurd and sometimes even illegal laws passed, which then make lawyers tons of money while they go to the Supreme Republican Court for a Party declared correction. We have "corrected" the Bill of Rights to include the Right of a President to murder American citizens remotely or by proxy so long as they first declare the victim to be a "bad guy". Anyone standing near the victim will also be blown apart but that is what we call, "incidental collateral damage to structures".

If Bernie somehow is allowed to take the White House and if Bernie does not stop the fascist wars we are waging, or does not stop the slaughter by drones, then we can declare America to be a "democracy free zone" and we should quietly begin finding a refuge somewhere else on the planet, assuming they allow us to leave.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

A New Year

Now that I have survived yet another year I suppose I should be happy not to be stuck in a hospital bed somewhere or living in fear in Syria, but life is a funny thing when you have it, it seems like it is just like air: you take what you get and exhale the rest.
David Bowie died for our sins, our sins of omission, our sins of neglect, our sins of distraction. He was beloved by millions and will will long be remembered. Almost on the same day a 89 year old lady died in Massachusetts and her family mourns her now, plans her wake and burial and dozens of people mourn her passing. We may agree that when a soul moves on the Earth is diminished and when a new person is born the earth is reborn, thus the heartbeat of the universe is maintained. The pulse of the planet remains strong.
Now the oceans are rising and will do so increasingly as our "Leaders" debate if mankind is worth saving or if we should simply count it as a real estate offering which promises great things. But here's the Thing: when disaster occurs we lose the very young, as they cannot yet adapt. We lose the very old as they have no resources left to recover. The remaining have neither the innocence of youth nor the wisdom that comes with age. The world like a black hole eats the knowledge and spits out random radiation. As islands disappear beneath the waves, as Disney watches it's castles crumbling into sand, as beach side resorts become a scuba divers vacation spot, as the skyscrapers in New York find their foundations crumbling under salt water attack, will we have the intelligence to forget the damn elections for a few years and get started moving the populations away from Death and towards Tomorrow?
Probably not, such a reaction would be unique in our history.
The sun rises and the sun sets. Life flares and then fades. The music has to stop eventually, why not sooner than later? But chances are the last to leave will whistle a little tune as they stride toward the Light. A few eternities later the energies will have created new worlds, new Life, new debates about meaning. The new poets will little suspect they walk on the powdered bones of great thinkers and performers.
But there will never be another David (Jones)Bowie, never another Ziggy Stardust. Grandma will never hold her dear babies in her lap, never brush away their tears again.
But existence and Love cannot be destroyed as this is the basis for life, so things change but they change again later. So someday another child of earth will sing a song nobody has ever heard, in a tune nobody has ever imagined.
The universe tapping it's feet to the tune of the gravity waves washing up on the shore of a black hole, pauses and listens to the thin sounds of a great ape helping her child sleep beneath fading stars.

Monday, October 05, 2015

Summer's End

This is the time of year when what your efforts were worth are displayed on the shelves in your basement if you're lucky enough to have one. Here in the 21st century we can tomatoes from grandmother's saved seeds, we pick up fallen fruit and make sauce, jellies and juices. We start pulling finished plants out of veggie beds and setting things up for next year. And we evaluate how we did.

People sometimes ask me how I manage to be so busy when I am in such pain, but when you are in the garden weeding or harvesting you aren't thinking about pain and your back, you're thinking about jelly and stews and root cellar designs. You're thinking about all those hops you harvested, estimating how many gallons of ale can be made. You're feeling a direct connection between your stomach and the Fecundity of the Earth. You feel the love of the soil. This is worth a little pain, and sometimes it can be worth a lot of pain.

Sometimes I relate to the garden as a newer Eden, testing my ability to learn from the planet, to find a spiritual meaning in life. The Japanese have gardens of sand which never give forth fruit, and this is where they meditate on life. I have gardens of flowers, fruit, veggies....all vibrant and alive most of the year, inviting and supportive of my life in my pain. My ashes will be scattered in this garden.

My parents are dead, my son is dead, my best friends Teddy and Larry are dead... yet the other day I got an email from a man I had been sure was dead! Seems my information was premature. The thing which intrigues me is the concept that maybe in my previous universe he was dead but when I shifted into a different shadow I found one where he was still living. In an infinite universe this is possible. So the thought comes back instantly, "Where would I have to go to get Teddy and Larry back and how would it impact my current family? What about Jon?" Say you knew you could shift universes and somebody you loved was dead, so you shift and now they are alive, maybe they had a little accident but not fatal. But when you look around you find that somebody assassinated the President or your daughter was still born.... what would you do then, go back? How would you find the right universe? Lots of details to consider. Sometimes it is best to let sleeping Universes lie.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015


     It's been a little over a year since Jon died and my life has been somehow hollowed out. Margaret and Jess are still there, even more loving and vital as before, but the longing for hope, the reading obtuse articles looking for hope, for names and places to contact because my son, my boy was in there goddam it and somebody had to listen! Now that's all gone and I have certain knowledge that hundreds of men and women are in their beds in contorted, bizarre positions, thinking about Life, thinking about how unfair and how cruel life can be to those who did no harm. They know that those around them have no faith, that they are considered as less than human, yet deserving of casual attention. Sometimes the nurses call them by name, the way you name a favorite house plant.
Does this seem overly cynical and mean? Well, that is what happens when you tear out a chunk of a man and deny the healing process. I don't want Jon to become a distant memory, a sad blessing. I want my anger at those doctors to continue to burn and nag at me, to cause me to look still for stories and solutions for those poor souls trapped inside their own skin. And as I consider this situation, as I regret to inform myself that in America the unFree nothing is free and nothing is done without a profit made. Hulks of flesh who can think cannot earn a lot of profit for the Board, so research into their situation is very low priority, far below the sex life of wild salmon. If anyone should ever suggest making a census-like effort to determine the health of every man, woman and child, not in that order, so that the sick might be healed and the dying made comfortable, the very next statement will involve "money", that invention of the Sumerians for their accountants who had no texts or literacy. 5,000 years later it is the end-all and be-all of Western civilization, which is rapidly becoming the World civilization. But it's a trick, with it you can visualize people, carts of grain, loaves of bread as little wooden or brass counters, like pieces in a game board. In order for this paradigm to work, that of denying health and comfort to the world, you have to consider the pile of tokens to be supreme in order of importance. Dying children can be dismissed by simply moving beads on a loom and reaching a final figure. No profit there.
One of the greatest minds of the century cannot move enough of his body to communicate, but with wires and expensive devices he teaches, writes, and solves problems that the greatest computers cannot envision. In a totally profit driven society, like much of America today, he would have been abandoned in a nursing home to die in a few years of pneumonia followed by heart failure. The people who would shake their profit driven heads as they denied the young man any special attention are incapable themselves of comprehending the tiniest part of his research nor of understanding the value of pure physics in advancing human civilization. They only know little wooden counters stuck in the sand.
So the anger at so many good people being left trapped in their bodies, many will have gone into a state of learned hopelessness from which there is often no way home, is with me, shall be, and I determine to continue to try to initiate some interest in our fellow human beings. It seems like something Jon would like me to do, as it was something that he was doing even as his van struck that truck and began his slow, sad death.
I like to plan, literally plan things. By drawing a picture to scale I can really see it in 3D and I can start breaking things down to their essential parts, put them in order, prioritize and otherwise do things instead of sitting still. Obviously this condition became sharpened and focussed with Jon in the picture. The stakes were beyond high for me regarding Jon. My son was sometimes more me than I was, taking up more thought and energy than me getting up, getting dressed and driving down to Lake Katrine. Now I get up and plan the garden, I think about ramps for wheelchairs because it occurred to us when Jon was getting better that to visit home would be difficult at best. The doorways were too narrow, the steps to every outside door were rather old so getting them out and putting in a ramp made good sense. Now I am thinking about my own back condition, that they call it "degenerative" for a reason, as Doc Izzo used to say. I may very well someday need those wider doors and ramps leading out to the raised bed gardens.
In a way,trying to prepare for Jon has made me more prepared for me, or maybe even Margaret. It could be anyone, anytime and the way things are going politically it is a wise person who does not plan on the government offering any help to someone who cannot turn a profit for them. Already the corporations can vote in blocks, unlike fleshy humans who are restricted to at best, one vote, and that vote is contingent on certain conditions. For instance, generally the rich are much more likely to be able to cast a vote and have it counted than someone who is penniless and on the street, even though both are citizens, on the barn side it reads: "some citizens have greater rights than others". Libtards continue to resist the sloughing off of the red numbers on the tally sheet. No offense, but they just aren't good for business. Random, wild card voters just muddy up the counting. With redistricting a fine, early art form they only have to have a show of hands in the room to determine who gets to play the part of President and so on.
While they play I plan. I'm pretty sure each door can have a pleasant looking ramp and landing which will allow even 95 year old Will a place in the sun. If we can grow our own foods and meds then we should be better than half-way to being inconspicuous. That is always a good way to be. I remember in Haight Ashbury in 1967 being as quiet as a young man can be with a backpack, walking stick and no visible reason to exist. Thus we avoid the fuzz. It did not always work, but then if it did it's job you might not know it happened anyway. The point is to be on your toes, not someone elses.
It does not fill the hole, this gardening of mine, nor does the photography and website because so many are not around to  admire or critique my efforts. So many of the folk I admire have gone on to better things, leaving me and Margaret with the dross, at least that's how it feels sometimes, especially when things go wrong as they do I miss the wisdom, the comfort, or even the little secret smiles as the obvious is pointed out, deflating a pout or a tantrum. Like when Larry turned the distributor cap around 180 degrees to start the BMW. Or when Jon grabbed our dinner plates and returned with them to the kitchen where he rearranged and redistributed the parts to serve a delightful, lovely meal out of what I had prepared and then just slopped on the plates. It was great learning from people I love. Margaret tries her best, but she does not understand how much I respect her opinion and a lot of times, bless her heart, she clams up as I screw up and then cleans up with only a slight "I could have told you so". sigh.

Saturday, November 01, 2014

New Life

The garden is in full flower now, with the wisteria hanging on the arch that marks the start of the Garden Path. The goldenrods have taken over any ground that does not contain a shrub and I'm not sure if there is enough time before winter to chop them all down so I can see where I need to add more flowers. I wouldn't mind the rods if they just flowered and stayed put, but they always try to take over the entire area and since they grow from the roots each time I cut one down four more sprout up. I have to find some purpose for them, maybe weaving cages for tomatoes... once you need a plant like this it goes away. Contrarywise, when I discovered that valerian worked on my back pain I began to see it growing all over the yard. It all depends on the mind of the plant.

The Israelis are working on their "Final Solution" for the Gazans, wiping out every man, woman and child, all the time declaring how precise they are and how careful they are not to hit civilians. It would seem they are either the worst army in the world or the best liars, because some 1500 civilians have died from Israeli missiles and bullets. This demonstrates, I think, how when one obsesses about something, especially an enemy or past insult, you gradually take on the attributes of that enemy. You become a fascist if you worry all the time about Hitler and his boys and if you constantly complain about the horrors of the Death Camps you will be compelled to make one for yourself and fill it full of enemies so you can wipe them out. They haven't pulled up trucks and pumped in exhaust gases, but bombs and missiles look more like a war instead of a genocide.

Meanwhile I am reading about the history of the region, especially the Jews. I want to understand why that area always seems ready to kill some group or another. One thing you notice is the consistency of the events. The Palestinians around Gaza have been taking it in the shorts for thousands of years now, it seems, no matter who it is oppressing them you have to feel sorry for them. Now it's the Israelis again, stepping up to take over and kill them all for the various crimes involved in resisting the takeover/genocide. Israel wants the ocean side. They also want all arable lands in all directions. YHWH promised them and they plan to accept the invitation, after all, it IS the Creator making the offer. Trouble is, even in the Bronze Age they knew it meant killing every one related to all the people they feel are in their way so as long as babies are born and memories remain there will be one war after another until everyone is wiped out.

At the same time you read over the Torah and related texts like the Dead Sea Scrolls, it's important to also read the Quran and Bible. That's a real eye opener! I love my Muslim friends but I must say that like the Old Testament there is a great deal of hatred for one's neighbors if they don't share your faith. It's a curious thing but YHWH has set everyone in the ME at each other as a basic part of their faith. It seems that the Prophet was abused by the Jews, most likely for not being a Jew, but to be fair the other Arabs also abused Him. But as a result of a personal insult He inserted into His revelation the idea that Jews must be converted or killed. The Jews have a different take on it, believing that converts to Judaism are not exactly "Jewish". The constitution of Israel makes it clear that only Jews who have descended from Jews since the Creation can be called Real Jews. The rest are wannabes who may or may not make it into heaven. Christians descend from Jews who believed that the Messiah had arrived and the End Times were upon us. Trouble is, He said it was happening right then and would be completed in their lifetimes. Now, some 2,000 years late they still think nothing is wrong, He's just using that kind of speech where a "lifetime" means "several lifetimes" and "is upon you" means "someday will happen". In other words they are in serious denial. Regardless of the whereabouts of this Messiah they have adopted the zero tolerance philosophy of the Jews and applied it to the Muslims. It seems we have to wipe them out for the Messiah to show His head again. Curious decision coming from the King of Peace, ain't it?

So, while logic dies in the desert along with little girls and boys, the World watches blood flowing from their lawn chairs at CNN, sipping their tea and nibbling on lady fingers. Not their kids, why should they worry? Naturally, those of us who recall the World Trade Center remember that it was our ambivalent attitude toward the killing of innocents which placed a target on the city. Now we happily sell weapons and ammo to the Israelis so they can complete their Final Solution and naturally we will be so surprised if the Arab world sees this as somehow dis-respecting their right to life. The classic response will be to murder as many innocent Americans as they can.

Cat Humor

The cats no longer laugh at my jokes. For a long time I thought it was because most of my jokes are based on puns, and cats only admit to knowing American English as a second or third language. So when you tell them a pun, most of the time they will just stare at you. But I mean the other kinds of jokes, even a pratfall doesn't get a chuckle out of them. Brighton acts as if the mafia were looking for him and Mariah is pretending to be Catwoman, going out at night and victimizing the local rodents. She's above it all. Buddy laughs. He's a good dog and I can count on his support in most things.
It's not like I plan a career as a stand up comedian for critters, but since I spend a great part of my conversations speaking to a cat or dog or chicken, I tend to expect a reaction from my audience. The hens tend to get very literal. They find human humor difficult to fathom. Go ahead, ask a chicken why they crossed the road, they will not look you in the eyes, they will mumble and mention something about greener pastures and all, but they will never say “to get to the other side”. It's just not the way hens think. Cats don't appreciate humor because they tend to be overly sensitive about their own appearances and a pie in the face is just a mess to them. Subtle jokes are impossible to understand in a cat mind, they are not very subtle beasts. But a dog... well, a dog will do most anything to please a human, even laugh at their jokes. For that I thank them.

Saturday, November 02, 2013

And At The End, Still Jon

I don't know what he looked like at the end because he had just been released back to his new facility, Riverside in Castleton. All I know was that he stopped breathing. I suppose it looked as if he had just gone to sleep, which is curious because of course he has been sleeping for years and years. In the end I knew it would be his lungs, it's so easy for an unmoving person to just clog up and stop breathing. Jon had been healthy once and I suppose that he stopped smoking long enough to have healthier lungs just before he got hit. Ironic that Life seems to match things up like that. Some people think of the date of the accident as a kind of birthday into a new life. I had often wondered what Jon would be like when he awoke from that sleep. I wondered if he would be strangely sweet and childlike... I had seen many survivors who had slipped into an innocent phase. As a father I wanted to be prepared should that happen. Jon had been at times gullible, dumping fingernail polish on the hood of a neighbor's car on Cabbage Night. The kids next door could get Jon into so much trouble but he just didn't seem to want to hang with kids who just explored, swam, played and did not try to shoplift. In other words he was a lot like my Dad.

Back on Pershing Drive in 1975 when Jon had not yet walked I woke up early for some reason and tip-toed out to find a trail of crackers and crumbs from the pantry to Jon's room. I peeped into Jon's room to find him trying to climb back into his crib with a cracker in each hand. he heard me, dropped into the crib and began to cry. Nancy called from the bedroom, "You woke him, you take care of him!"

Somewhere we have a picture of Jon a few years later, hiding in the bathtub while eating a box of sugar donuts. He looked like a clown putting on his makeup, white powder all over his face and a big shit-eating grin on his face. No shame, no gain I guess. He was a cute kid.

He wasn't, of course, all bad by any means, but like me and his mother, he was heavy maintenance. You had to look out for him and be patient. I was not very patient with him, but then he did look a lot like his mother, to me, and sometimes that just pissed me off. Odd, ain't it? And again, not always, just some memories won't go away, and me being unreasonable to a young man being defensive was a memory i would like to work away and now Jon cannot hear me say I am sorry and I can't hear him say it's okay. Sucks. We have many such memories that can't work out like some strange vine with thorns has wrapped it self around my heart and you can't pull it away without tearing the heart up. So you figure something else out.

There's a video you can find on the Web which shows the tsunami washing over a town and dragging it back in pieces to the sea. It was unstoppable, there was no way a human force could deflect it away from those paper and bamboo huts. The brick and mortar buildings got knocked off their foundations, which got washed away too. Eventually besides the debris field the town itself stopped existing. Traumatic brain injury is like that wave of greatest force that rushed into  his mind and brain and tore it loose from it's foundations. Eventually it swept away in debris fields. Each seizure, each fever ate away at more of the Town of Jon. There was enough to hope for a re-build, a newer, different Jon who would nevertheless be the same kid somehow. I often thought of what Jon would be like when he awoke. I do know that the money angle insured that Jon would never get the therapy he needed to force his brain to wake up and heal. They just don't care to save someone like Jon whose future was unsure and whose past had been, in the eyes of Society, somewhat ill-used. Driving an old VW van around to concerts in strange cities, working as a car tech, a chef, a dishwasher... whatever work he could find to pay his bills.... dog food, gasoline and the occasional new block for the van.

Dad loved to fly. He loved it so much he went to war to be a glider pilot and probably die in battle, but in the air. Dad loved to fly so much he wouldn't let no damn thunderhead the size of Mt. Washington get in his way in his one engined Cessna. No, he'd fly off, take a few spins and slam into a mountain the size of a regular mountain. The sheriff called us to say he was alright, just a broken nose. Jon didn't have Dad's "luck". When he flew out the windshield he did not break his nose.

Tomorrow is Jon's birthday. Tonight Margaret and Jess and I will burn some wood, drink some beer, light candles, incense and such and celebrate his life with us. This is too much of a good thing if you ask me. Too many circles within circles and yet like a Moebius strip you end up at the same place. I think it is possible that in time we get back around to where we were but without really grasping how we got there. Then you can wander over to Why, although as we know from the Brighton Theory of '50: "There is no Why, Only When.".

The Law states that It is Good to Love. This opens us up to growth, spirituality, satisfaction in Life... that which Lives, Loves. When you think about it, there has to be an earlier Law which states that Good Exists. It would have to be defined by adding Bad. You'd have: Good/Bad... or Bad/Good, but I favor the former. Better to start out with Good. We are born, certainly, with Bad first as we are drawn and pushed  out of our mother. Then as we are given a breast to suckle we sense Good. I hear it is possible to come forth in quiet, loving environments with no squalling and beeping of instruments. Jon was pretty quiet about the whole thing, he just sort of popped right out in about ten minutes. The OB didn't even have time to get involved. So maybe he started out with Good and then later got to Bad.

It is beautiful today. I saw a pair of great birds flying in lazy circles. We have a few pairs of eagles in the region and they sometimes check out the hen yard as they make for the riverside east of us. Lots of critters to find, but it was better when the acreage between us and Northern Pines was a field and not a subdivsion. They can, however, also take small dogs, cats and rabbits. They are after all, full grown eagles.... perhaps BIG redtail but you get my point. Actually my point was that in Egyptian religious tradition Scorpio was an eagle, not a scorpion. Thus a pair of eagles flying overhead as we celebrate Jon's life, him being a Scorpio three times over, was somehow ironic or poignant. I'm not sure it is, but it was a lovely concept. Dad had a wonderful eagle tattooed on his chest, and he loved to fly.