The Left Column

Politics for Poets

politics of the here and now Vote for Donald J. Trump!

I live in a forest. Well, it's suburban. But it's the kind of region that if land is left fallow for even a couple of seasons, it grows into thickets. And so we have to do the work of lawn clearing, or else all the trees shedding bury the lawns with leaves and needles.

Some people leave it. They don't bother clearing it. That's fine in one sense, it's very natural. However, leaves will mat. Piles might become nests. Bugs and varmint can thrive. This attracts a lot of spiders and snakes, which some people don't like. And so it's important to do the work of clearing the leaves and needles every so often even while they still shed from the trees.

If you approach it as a bad chore, it becomes a hard task. It's not fun to let it all build up, over a long period, and then, at some prospect of a snow storm, you have to go out and do it all at once. It over whelms you. It's too much work to do at one time. You might just call up and have the guys come by with their gear, and they can clear your lawn right quick for a cost, and you have to pay them but . . . for me . . . culturally, it's a thing to do it myself. It's good exercise if you do it piece meal, over a period of a month or two.

Lawn work is a thing and it is a necessary part of the skill-set of people who live in such areas. It's all about being able to get up off the chair and move around even when you are an very old piasano, who is an eccentric in some people's eyes, but totally typical to people from his family, extended relatives, not all Italian/Irish/European people. We do yard work. It's a thing. We like 'gardening'. We want our yards to be nice.

OK, it's not just us. A lot of people do. But for me, it was a way to become familiar with working for a living. I got paid one dime for each bag of needles that I filled. If I wanted to buy the midget army men in 4th grade from the Woolworths at Rt 27 and Rt 9 (next to the Stop and Shop) I needed to fill at least 10 bags.

Yard work, and minor home maintenance, becomes a thing for people. It is how they show that they are still 'with it' and able. My grandfather, some time in his last year, got a stern talking to, by my dad and uncle, for hauling out a ladder and cleaning his gutters. What was he thinking? It's just something that people do: they push themselves to stay self reliant. If you see it as a chore, well it is. But if you do it enough, and you put it into small enough chunks of manageable effort, then it's really a form of exercise. Work those muscles that you never move because you are sitting down drawing TuxKarts and building virtual worlds that you hope to pawn off at the virtual bizarre, and isn't the news lately bizarre, all the way bizarre.

Tasteless segway back to politics? This is, by the way, the Politics for Poets column. Let me say that the idea of a collection of stories appeals to me, because it creates a literary scene and also allows for a quilt to be crafted that hammers home the sociological milieu (in a very didactic way, perhaps, but in small chewible pieces that are easy to consume and don't give out a bad taste.). So a collection of stories is a good choice for a writer. It could be a set of stories, for example, about people and their experiences utilizing roadside laundromats. These ubiquitous businesses reflect the social-conscious process of how people interact within the self-serve world. Shameless plug: I have an unpublished collect of stories called Midnight Laundry which is just that.

Ultimately that is the world that many of us have to fall back on. If I fall, into a puddle of mud, can't I then find a laundromat and clean up for a while? I'm deep in a puddle of mud and there is some social place where I can go get my clothes cleaned and I can wash up somehow, and get clean again. And if I'm there, and I seem to be in distress, people aren't going to beat me and canibalize me, but they will help me and they will carry me to the holy place, some shelter for the night location for rest. Because rest will bring a cessation of the haunting waking-dreams that many call hallucinations. Or, if it's not caused from lack of sleep, then time and kidneys will eventually clear most of it out (it being some chemical or substance). We get sick, we fall down. We rest. We get up. We get clean. We get better.

The junkie doesn't have to be a thief. The sex-addict doesn't have to be a criminal groper. We are human, not beasts. And even if you get involved in sordid BS fake-ritual, which is really just parlor-game quality debauchery, you aren't really going to fall into a portal and go to hell. There is a ladder that you can use, and you can climb back out. And, yes, there will be some who will help you. And others who will treat you shabbily, and try to turn you back to your old ways to allow them to further the game (that twisted parlor game). Ultimately we have to climb out on our own. And the pleas to the Holy Lord, that you don't even know that you are making, are what propel you quicker out of the hole, and back to a normal perch upon some normal ledge, high up in these mountains. Way up in the mountains. Where Glen Beck should go.

But remember, Glen, if you are in the mountains, you have to stay on the trail in some parts. Ya, a volcano cone, a tallus slope, if you fall you'll roll, it's a slope. But plateaus have edges, and if you get to that edge, then you'll have to watch out. Because you can believe in some pseudo mystical 'leap of faith' that you read about in the science fiction of Carlos Castaneda and mistook for real world descriptions of actual people doing real things. If you read these books, by the time he was whacked on the Jimsonweed, didn't you kind of know that he was describing something other than reality? It was a description of his random inner space. And he takes you there, and it's a fiction. And you should know that it's a fiction. But if you don't he tells you too, which is why people kept reading it. And guess what, it was like doing those 'awareness' drugs. Drugs that let you see your mind, as hallucinations, burning in front of your own eyes. You burn off your own mind, which you might have needed to use later, and see happy colors? You must have been thinking of happy colors. But it's a cheep effect, really. Maybe you should instead get a Kaleidoscope, if you want to see pretty patterns. Or if you want to fly, you can take a plane. Thta 'alternative reality is a wasteland, you create it yourself with the day residue of mind that you sacrifice to your quest for something real, this Vision Quest of yours. You use the oxegen of alkoiloid (a bad analogy?) to burn off the day residue of mind, and you create this alternative reality. It is mostly ideosyncratic. And people who take the same substance probably won't go to the same place, and perhaps it does burn away some of the fallacies of mind that you collected throughout your schooling in interactin wtih the world around you, and you are able to understand that so much in the world is just determined by hang-ups of traditions, the ruts of conscious thought that we all have to saunter along, those paths that civiliation has laid out for us. But in the case of 'created things', roads, buildings, social structures? sometimes it's just an arbitrary choice. Other times' it prudent economics. But always, it's there and it's easier to just stay on the trail, don't wonder off. Some mountains might be the kind that Jack K. Says you can't fall off of, but most are not. When we stray off trail at Half Dome we might be in for a Humpty Dumpty phase of our life (or it might be our death).

And so some use alkoilod poison as a way to induce a kind-of vision quest. But listen, just as it's only one Baptism, it's also only one Vision Quest. If you have to keep up with alkoloid fueled activity in search of some deep truth of reality, you've failed in the endevour. Got the message, hang up the phone. Once you understand, is there every a 'reunderstanding'. When we know what 'up' means, can anyone bring us down by telling us why we are wrong? Human society is often arbitrary about some things. Other things, they are that way for good reason. And those who are usurpers don't always respect taboos. But the ones that must be respected, what is really taboo, we hand that off to FBI and local prosecters and we don't care what the bungie bosses of cartel governance have to say about it. There are some crimes so horrible that the stones, themselves, are said to cry out for justice! "If you are his children you know me." That's a very serious indictment.

The quest for vision, or the time of Spirit (pereclate), is about awareness. In a buzz chase, a lack of buzz often results. Isn't it kind of a sad commentary on existence that those who are most into the aspect of whatever are the least likely to enjoy that aspect. Just as a case in point, someone I worked with had gotten into a nature watching phase. This was an urban kid who, clearly, hadn't been around much. Me, I'd been off to places. I'd climbed up some slopes. I used to spend time in the woods. And I'd been to Vermont, a place where all bugs had not been exterminated. And so he was all about 'Butterflies' and he wanted to capture them to kill them and put them on a board.

Now, I don't understand that part of it. He wanted to take away the buzz of that which he chased, kill it, tack it on a board and display it because it was pretty. So, isn't that a clear example of who a fetish as to some aspect of something awesome results in the destruction of that awesome and the murder of some innocent life form (murder is too strong a word).

The butterful is free and lives in the forest meadows. It will become interested in you and land on you when you when you are still and unattentive. It will inspect you and then fly away, fly back, loop around. Land on a flower. Lift itself back up. Land on you again as you lay in the field, if you are laying in the field, and not paying attention to it.

But try and catch it? It flies away. It's not Mothra, but if you open your eyes while you are sleeping, suddenly waking up, and one in on your face, you see it all at once, you might think so. It's like a giant radioactive moth! But, of course, that's just a lame made up conception. And so, ya, butterflies and moths. They abound in the world. And if you respect them, and don't hound them, you might get to see them every so often.

So my work friend, I called him an 'armchair naturalist' went off into the national park (that abutted the property of our base) with his lapidary net. I warned him. He had that typical way of just passing off my advisements as me just being too conformist. He was mostly right about that, but not always. He didn't care what the rules were, he was going to do what he was going to do. He told me that he'd been approached and that he was directed that, within the boundaries of the park, there is no collecting or harvesting of any kind.

So that rule: covetousness of aspect decreases your chances of attaining that aspect. This is, of course, just loose guidance. In fact, maybe the most covetous person could possibly achieved their lauded goal. However, when we observe the world? What do we see? The butterfly fleas to out of range of the butterfly net and the dervish fool who chases, with his pure heart, that 'elusive creature'. And the one who is just there, and isn't looking to harsh the buzz (pun intended) of the butterflies? The butterflies will get curious and fly over to see them, to introduce themselves, to tell them, in their buzzed-out way, "ya, Mothra's my great aunt's cousin, and I'm personal friends with Black Bears and otters." This isn't code for anything.

Well, so, the candidate. She's coveted power. And she's let loose the minions to hound even family members of venerable statespeople (so says articles that I've read), and she's got an 'organization' and some people say she's a dabbler in parlor game activities. And she's kind of a bitch. She 's not very nice to people. She's mean to your dog . . . I'm making this up as I go along. I don't really know the candidate, just know what the propaganda is. It is, by the way, the season of the witch, oh, it was a few days ago. Halloween. Boo.

The hysteria concerning these parlor game activities has gotten to the point of a witch hunt. And so, we need to be warned about that. It isn't a myth of History to say that the hysteria against witches has been a curse on Western society. Too many people, over very many generations, have succummed to phobias about devils, demons, and witches, and have have abreacted to the point of having witch trials and then directing executions of people who, most likely, were victims of alkaloid poisoning, haplessly, perhaps, they recieved a dose of something psychotropic and it effected their brain function, which manifested as strange personality, and truculent anti-social behavior.

It's not a joke, It's a sad fact. These witch convictions were shameful miscarriages of justice. Those were senseless and brutal state executions of people who many have been just chemically altered through exposure to nightshade, ergot, or psychotropic plants, fungae, moss, algea, or bug-bight.

But if people really are doing sick ritual? I don't want to see email pictures! Give those images to a grand jury, don't publish them on your forward facing web-page! Part of me says that they can't be real, that it was inserted into the data by dork-ops who sought to further humiliate and discredit the candidate. However, the creepy nature of the people involved, and my own experience with sick-heads who delude to the occult, yes, what they follow is delusion. But it's dangerous delusion. It has no place in the world, however when you go 'after it' you often make a big mistake: you, yourself, are under the effects of the ergot-of-delusion. I've read that over 30000 people were killed, executed, because they were 'witches' , over a period of some 300 to 400 years, before the discovery of LSD, and the delving into the major delusions of mind that result from alkaloid overdose.

The other things we know about the candidate are reason enough to with hold a vote from her. Don't use hysterical accounts of alleged email images as a reason to cast your vote one way or another.

If events of the last few days, and news of impending indictments isn't scary, then imagine having to immediately impeach the person who just won the office?

Let's avoid all the controversy and BS by giving Mr. Donald J. Trump a landslide

November 6, 2016

Aren't we all sick of it by now?

If you've gotten to the point
where you see the other person
as such a demon or a witch, 
practicing debauchery as ritual,
if you really think you see that
maybe what it is, instead,
is that they dosed you too . . .

Wait for a period, move away
from it for a time, let the effects
of whatever you've gottne exposed to
wear off.

And then take another look,
if you must.
But most of the time when you see
great evil
you are actually imagining it,
and then seeing what you see that confirms it,
but not really seeing everything, and getting
it all wrong.

So stop!


       

Politics for Poets recommends: vote for

DONALD
 TRUMP

 to restore respect to the office of the Presidency
 and avert a constitutional crisis
 
 Equality is not a congruence of social station. 
 It is a congruence of equal protection, under the law.

 

Politics should be civil.

show of hands for who that
love the police!

🖐Love🖑
🖑Cops🖐

  

What they claim is good
 for 'the environment' 
   really sucks 
  for the forest.

    
    
🖐Love🖑
🖑Cops🖐

show of hands for who that
love the police!
🖐Love🖑
🖑Cops🖐

these can get you banned from school?!:
🔫 🚀 🚙🚤🚣c🍀⚜⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣🚣
🚣🚣🚣  🚀  🚀🔨🔨🔨⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣
🔨 🚙 🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣
⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣

spinfont unicode-isms
🍀 Praise God! 🍀
🍀⏲⏱⏰⏲⏱🔫⏰⏰⏲⏱🔫⏰⏰🍀
🎠 
🎠 
🎠 
🔫
🔨🔨 
🍀 Praise God! 🍀

Delete and repeat, delete.

 

🚀 🚙🚤🚣c🍀⚜⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣🚣
🚣🚣🚣  🚀  🚀🔨🔨🔨⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣
🔨 🚙 🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣
⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣
🖐

🖐🖑 🖑🖐

Here is today's pretty poem:

  

what is this?

    

🖐 🌙 🖑
🖑🌛 🌜🖐
   
 🖐🖑

🖐🖑 🖑🖐

 ♥♥?

 
 he blathered:
 "clearly they are all
 pauseractical and
 redactative"
 
 he then stated:
 "ridactive? Pauseridactival?"
 
 the first states:
 "clearly this is pauseredactative.
 first use
 first use? you use?
 redactative
 pausereactical
 pauseredactive
 pauseredactative
 counterlectual
 nonfluencial
 incongruentially retro-redam
 redact
 retro
 tactaculor . . .
 
 "
 
 we stood there and listened
 and it seemed to me,
 and all those present,
 as if I could know
 that their jazz quality 
 word manglings
 made perfect sense
 within the haze
 of that scene
 it wouldn't play
 on a big screen.
 
 he asks:
 "on 'the' big screen."
 
 he replies:
 "ya, that one too."
 
 she asks:
 "has all of this been redactated"
 
 he replies:
 "I'm sure that doesn't matter,
 it's a draft dialog
 change it if you need to
 if you think it's unkind
 to be less and then
 let me know why"
 
 she asks:
 "What is it that you're really saying?"
 
 he states:
 "I don't doubt your cleverness, what is it really
 that you don't understand?"
 
 she understands, he guesses, because she querries him no longer.
 She querries him no longer.
 And they are all that much stronger.
 
 he asks:
 "things that rhyme that make bad poetry?"

 
 🖐🖑
🖑🖐


glossary of what's next
 ♥♥? : 

Be nice to yourself and others. What other choice?

The waste land
of your spirit quest
hallucinations
aren't coins to use
to explain away
what you delude to be
failures of being,
your excess,
kicking in the door
of some strangers SUV
at Venice Beach, October
2014.
You were out of your mind
and being inhuman
raving at 'them' about 
your urges, needs, crappy
understanding of
society
and the wider world
wind and waves.

But your better now, by now?
some time in a rehab for a while?
found by someone important?
Your better now, and I won't ask
about the tats, bars, stars, gang sign
markings.

Got to go wash? Off off your life
from yourself?
what we have done
what we have failed to do 
building bridges where there is a river?
building bridges and walls, roads, valley town
around the roll in the highway, 
up the mountain,
down the mountain
up the mountain
down the mountain
this must be stealing,

you can't wash off 
who you are.
You can't.
You can only be born again once
it is said
get born again.
got the message?
hang up the phone?

Want to experiment with awareness?
take a long nap, remove yourself
from delusions
that the peculiarity of the place
that you will create for yourself
if you burn off parts of your mind
is going to be anything more
than just an idiosyncratic
virtual delusion

Maybe you could wrap it up in stories?
Leave them in a box, 
no body will read them?
I'm being a buzz kill?
buzzing on
means that you land on a flower,
for a while,
if you were a butterfly
and then fly on to the next one.

Or maybe that is where you'd lay your eggs,
if you were a butterfly.
You are not a butterfly
even if on alkaloids you
could think that you were.




Wake up!

wake up and be unaware of being the Buddha

♥♥ Praise ♥♥ the ♥♥ Lord ♥♥ !!

end of column