Language itself is a barrier.
07/05/2008
WNC reading
Along with several others from Ash Canyon, I was invited to read tonight at WNC this evening so, if you're in the area and up for a night of poetry, drop on by.
Date: Wednesday, May 7
Time: 7:00 PM
Place: WNC
Marilee Swirczek’s Class “Poetry for Prose Writers”
Bristlecone Building (main building, with the flag):
Go inside, then up ramp to 3rd floor, then left, to end of hallway
Hasta la vista, Hillary
Bye-bye, Hillary. You made history as a woman. You are history as a politician.
Ps. That's what you get for using Rove's dirty play book.
I was recently banned from commenting on Huffingtonpost. NOT because I swear more. Actually, I don't. And I don't make personal attacks on other commenters. Obviously, somebody has it in for me. Perhaps the grammar police? The last comment to make it past the censors at Huffpo contained bad grammar. M. Lee? (I swear, if I left a suicide note with incorrect grammar, spelling or punctuation, he would red pencil it and send it back). He thinks it's great I got banned. That I'll stop wasting time there. But I do love the fray. Ah well. The result is that, at least until I get addicted to another website, I am going to (occasionally) post comments here. How this differs from the rants category, I can't exactly say but it is different.
N ya cain't ban meh. Take that, censors... !@#! HA!
Huffington Post Hillary
04/05/2008
Yay! Grumpy gets a home
I shouldn't call him Grumpy. The dude is from circumstance but that only makes this even BIGGER GOOD NEWS. This weekend Scotty, the grumpy little terrier, moved out of the shelter and in with his loving new family Ingrid, Lucifer and Mimi.
Well, Ingrid is loving. Lucifer and Mimi? Everyone knows it takes cats time to warm up to anybody, especially if that "anybody" is some fellow who decides to confiscate their bed.
This is all too, too sweet because Scotty is ... well ...was... you know, could be a bit of a grouch at the shelter but Ingrid knew that before she adopted him. The wonder of love. I'll bet that soon Scotty will be soooooo mellow even the cats will cuddle up with him.
Letter from Ingrid below:
Hello Ursula,
So far, so good. After Scotty's second walk (shortly after 7PM), he is finally napping. You'll be happy to know that the little fellow settled in quite nicely. All day he followed me around like, well, a dog (smile). He really enjoys having the run of the backyard. He's protecting me against birds and outside cats, and he also is a terrific watchdog, barking a bit when he sensed someone moving about in the yard back of the neighboring house. He stopped as soon as I said no. Good dog, eh? When I had a bite to eat, I learned that he is a little beggar. He also told Lucifer and Mouche, in no uncertain terms, that they should stay away when there's food around. He really hurt poor Lucifer's feelings, poor thing went into hiding for the rest of the afternoon. And my kitten is still camped out under the bed. I had to put Scotty outside before Lucifer and Mimi could be persuaded to come out of their hiding places. Not to worry, though, things will settle down. This is, after all, only day one. I'm afraid Mr. Scotty had a few too many treats today; he didn't eat too much of his dinner. Or, perhaps, it's because he was fed in the morning at the shelter? He is currently sound asleep on the cat bed under my computer table. I think he has tried almost every bed in the house. And you know what else he did? He jumped up on the sofa and almost got on my lap. Almost. There also has been a lot of tail wagging. I think he likes it here.
We'll have to try to take a few more photos on Thursday, yes? Everyone can relax. He is adjusting to his new surroundings amazingly fast.
Thank you and all the D.A.W.G. volunteers for having done such an excellent job of rehabilitating, nursing back to health, and socializing Scotty. I'll do my best to provide a good, safe home for him.
Tschüß, Ingrid
Sleep tight, Scotty
RIP Eight Belles
Three-year old Eight Belles, moments
before being killed after she broke her
two front ankles in the Kentucky Derby.
I don't know what Eight Belles means to her owners but according to Wikipedia, "eight bells is a way of saying that a sailor's watch is over, for instance, in his or her obituary. It's a nautical euphemism for "finished". For the three-year old filly Eight Belles, her end was yesterday's Kentucky Derby after her stunning, second place victory resulted in BOTH her front ankles breaking. She was put down where she fell and I am outraged.
After her death, her trainer Larry Jones, told the media, "They put their life on the damn line. She was glad to do it." Bullshit, Larry! You are blinded by self-centeredness.
We bet on their lives. They always lose. Not just the ones culled early in the game, the ones discarded like trash before they ever make it to the limelight. "Winner" or "loser", none of them end well. What's with us? Seems to me, when all our other excuses fail, we use religion to dignify our cruelty and greed. "Dominion over the animals"? My ass. I agree with Ghandi, "The greatness of a nation and its morals can be judged by the way its animals are treated". About her death, winning jockey Kent Desormeaux said, "Eight Belles showed you her life for our enjoyment today. I'm deeply sympathetic to that team for their loss." Not my pleasure, bub. Rest in peace, baby girl.
The Rescue
by Robert Creeley
The man sits in a timelessness
with the horse under him in time
to a movement of legs and hooves
upon a timeless sand.
Distance comes in from the foreground
present in the picture as time
he reads outward from
and comes from that beginning.
A wind blows in
and out and all about the man
as the horse ran
and runs to come in time.
A house is burning in the sand.
A man and horse are burning.
The wind is burning.
They are running to arrive.
The Horseracing Industry: Drugs, Deception, and Death
02/05/2008
Between the cracks
Yesterday was the day we were supposed to leave for Central America. Lucky we postponed the trip. Good thing with my broken back. Not a good time to go backpacking. And the fracture is just part of the problem. My spine is messed up. The doctor asked me several times what in the world I did to end up in this condition. Really messed up. At the time I didn't have an answer. I have always jokingly claimed my problem came from chopping wood and carrying water after enlightenment, "after" being the joke but I don't think anyone ever got it. It never elicited more than a blank stare. But, looking at my old MRI, seems this fracture occurred sometime in the last three years. Who knows? But it's just the latest in a long list of problems. I have to do a couple more tests before we come up with a treatment plan but looks like my summer's shaping up. How about yours?
The other day, in the wee hours of the morning, before I'd even opened my eyes, I started going over the what, where and why of it. Actually, it's a bit complicated but chopping wood and carrying water did play a part. Why I chopped wood and carried water and tubs of laundry through a mud field daily played another. The where and when was during my days at Madhuvan on the Krsna commune in West Virginia. I don't have the time or energy to go into it today. I'm feeling rushed and scattered but I did google up an article on Madhuvan if you want read a bit about that. It's from the Brijabasi Spirit, the same old magazine I used to write for way back then. It's online now, like everything else. We used to mimeograph it. We even bought a letterpress to print it on, which is harder than cranking a mimeo machine and thus worth more devotional credit, but the farm hand devotees didn't like us press devotees and when they delivered it to Vahna's house, instead of lowering it carefully off the flatbed, they pushed it off and it broke into, not a million pieces, but nevertheless couldn't, or shall I say the blacksmith devotees, wouldn't put it back together again.
Then again.... maybe one of my kids have been playing hopscotch .... hhhhhummmmmmmm.......
29/04/2008
Bicycle Day revisited or RIP Albert Hofmann?
According to a
"In answer to my inquiry about the sourse of the news, a commenter replied that he learned of Hofmann's death in a personal email from Rick Doblin, head of MAPS (Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies). Doblin wrote him that, "Albert had a heart attack at 9am at home and died a swift, painless death. RIP." I guess if anyone, Doblin is in a position to know.
Whatever the case, naturally I got to thinking about the good old days, especially in New York during the '60's when Tim Leary's old friend and former colleague, Ralph Metzner, brought us boxes of tiny vials of beautiful liquid amber LSD direct from Sandoz Lab in Switzerland, where Hofmann worked when he invented it, to Kumar's tiny apartment on W. 14th. Sacrament. It was great for a while but eventually it got complicated. You know how that goes. So.... anyway....
In honor of Dr. Hofman's discovery and the unending task/adventure of reducing ego and expanding consciousness, here's a recounting of his, the First Trip, otherwise known as Bicycle Day" (via Wikipedia).
Dr. Albert Hofmann holding a model of the LSD molecule
On April 19, Dr. Hofmann intentionally ingested 250 micrograms of LSD, which he hypothesized would be a threshold dose, based on other ergot alkaloids. After ingesting the substance Hofmann was struggling to speak intelligibly and asked his laboratory assistant, who knew of the self-experiment, to escort him home on his bicycle, due to the lack of available vehicles during wartime restrictions. On the bicycle ride home, Hofmann's condition became more severe and in his journal he stated that everything in his field of vision wavered and was distorted, as if seen in a curved mirror. Hofmann also stated that while riding on the bicycle, he had the sensation of being stationary, unable to move from where he was, despite the fact that he was moving very rapidly. Once Hofmann arrived safely home, he summoned a doctor and asked his neighbor for milk, believing it may help relieve the symptoms. Hofmann wrote that despite his delirious and bewildered condition, he was able to choose milk as a nonspecific antidote for poisoning. Upon arriving the doctor could find no abnormal physical symptoms other than extremely dilated pupils. After spending several hours terrified that his body had been possessed by a demon, that his next door neighbor was a witch, and that his furniture was threatening him, Dr. Hofmann feared he had become completely insane. In his journal Hofmann said that the doctor saw no reason to prescribe medication and instead sent him to his bed. At this time Hofmann said that the feelings of fear had started to give way to feelings of good fortune and gratitude, and that he was now enjoying the colors and plays of shapes that persisted behind his closed eyes. Hofmann mentions seeing "fantastic images" surging past him, alternating and opening and closing themselves into circles and spirals and finally exploding into colored fountains and then rearranging themselves in a constant flux. Hofmann mentions that during the condition every acoustic perception, such as the sound of a passing automobile, was transformed into optical perceptions. Eventually Hofmann slept and upon awakening the next morning felt refreshed and clearheaded, though somewhat physically tired. He also stated that he had a sensation of well being and renewed life and that his breakfast tasted unusually delicious. Upon walking in his garden he remarked that all of his senses were "vibrating in a condition of highest sensitivity, which then persisted for the entire day".
Update: In case you're interested, here is an extended quote from Rick Doblin's email.
"Albert died at home at 9 AM Basel time from a myocardial infarction, quick and relatively painless. Two caretakers were there with him at the time. The only people who were told were people from Burg, the village where he lived, and Peter and others were surprised the word of his death had gotten out so quickly. It's the age of the internet...
Albert had been increasingly thinking of death these last few months. He had stopped leaving his home, where he said he could feel the spirit of Anita, his wife who died December 20, 2007. He didn't come to the World Psychedelic Forum a month ago, but did entertain some visitors at his home. We spoke on the phone the day after the Basel conference and he was happy and fulfilled. He'd seen the renewal of LSD psychotherapy research with his own eyes, as had Anita. I said that I looked forward to discussing the results of the study with him in about a year and a half and he laughed and said he'd try to help the research however he could, either from this side or "the other side".
Now it even more falls on younger generations to transform LSD into a legal medicine and beyond that into a tool for personal growth legally available to all."
Rick
Source here.
Albert Hofmann LSD Bicycle Day RIP, Albert
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