The Big Kahuna Reboot

no borders earthAfter a two-day on and off consultation with a wise man Egyptian poet and revolutionary politico, we did not solve the angst of humanity, yet, we did nail down relevant specifics. In semi-conclusion, I need to add Sherif and his wife to the list of soul traveling unions.

Poets are enamored with the succinct compared to my stream of consciousness therapy. Surely, those who are not compelled to write every day/night will barely be hip to the dreamy wrenching and potent editing we, the writers, must deliver as willing benign slaves to our own spirit master.

The style I bleat is a filtered rock ‘n roll stream typical of a West Coast higher education while growing up on the San Andreas. I continue to live in a place by the Pacific where earth burps are daily, if one counts those under 3.0. The number of butterflies in the garden and the perpetual cloud designs are infinite. Freedom and independence is a given. My personality is incapable of being led or yanked along on some other’s voyage unless signs are seen and vibes are concurred.

Creativity is a way of psyche survival. If one releases programmed allegiances and inbred constraints and stops buying into the us vs. them then class struggles and injustices are peeled down to their seeds. I have argued for decades those who fight centered in the class paradigm feed the empire’s agenda of victimization.

Being trapped in a social situation be it working, middle, or upper is the rigged game. You receive your seat in the arena and the games begin. My gig is to get off my duff and walk out of the forum built by the unsaid agreement between empire master and fear ridden slave.

It is no coincidence hefty socialists give no regard to a higher power because in reality their disenfranchisement role is not allowed to surrender to faith or connect to the holy linkage of life. Isolated from oneness their hard ass resignation stands still cemented to slick ego as any other resident of a status quo. Resentment and lack of self-esteem stokes the acceptance to play their role in the class struggle Olympics.

Freedom comes with a willingness let go and an acceptance that justice is inherent to ALL living things. Right action is implementing values and manifesting compassion but if you are pissed off (too much of the time) at the establishment you are being derailed.

Organized human society has yet to evolve beyond the same models we are slogging around in since the 1700s. I keep looking beyond the set of existing models for a higher way to organize ourselves.

Global citizenship where we release our constant pettiness of nationalism and being corralled by arbitrary geographic and/or cultural boundaries is where I currently hang my cowgirl hat.

Social media cuts across the artificiality of country nations. You and I are ending the world domination of us vs. them. We take corrective action every time we establish a friendship online with someone not from our milieu, home nation, heritage, or creed.

Clearly, it must be obvious attempting to resolve our global differences via the United Nation is an abyss of corruption where favored states are controlled by war mongers and inflated egos. This “leadership” is not only originating out of the Brahmin class but also from dirt poor tribal war lords who rose to power by murdering the ‘other side’. I would not place my faith or allegiance with such a band of narcissistic wannabes.

The street people’s Occupy Movement imploded because it was based on no leadership. Humans do not operate with positive forward motion in a civil society with a foundation of anarchy. Negotiation, compromise, compassion over enabling, the golden rule, equality, and human potentiality of the art of living is stifled when the mass reverts to herd instinct fed by fear and insecurity.

Intelligence, insight, wisdom, and respect is earned, yet without the focus of the best and the brightest it is buried inside the voices of the screaming chorus. Leadership demands ethics and truth disseminated with articulation based on fact not fiction.

What our species faces with global climatic change now has no meaning since weather and the environmental envelops of life this planet is one with do not recognize such captiousness.

Many foretell until the fiat monetary system is on the balls of its arse and the entire human race is nearly destroyed will we reboot how we socially and politically conduct ourselves. I am not a doomsayer.

It would seem common sense would yelp as a collective consciousness the way we are organized today (as nation states) is killing us and our fellow creatures on Earth. The New World Order is the greedy basturds attempt to drone us, surveil us, burn us up, and screw us up until we fully and finally surrender to their us vs. them paradigm. The current insanity (proxy wars) in MENA is an orchestration of a raft of various factions at each others throat – a mirror and a portend of human history.

It is no accident I reside in a country geared for peace refusing to arm itself. I can easily sustainably survive off the land here for generations, if necessary. The Internet I use is controlled by the govt controlled by the people. I do not live off the 100% green grid – but I could. My geo site-specific position is secure, yet my soapbox is tenuous but less so than most.

And while my family in America continue to excel at playing the game I do contend they like the secret idea I might become their rescue station if the entire ball of wax melted one futuristic blistering Earth-cooked afternoon.

Tearing down the pretend walls we erected as national lines on a make believe global map is what the lot I hang with are engaged in doing. What is our leverage to shift this stupidity? By using the world wide web to explain how the current establishment methodologies:
Divide and conquer;
Deploy proxy wars and weapons of mass fear campaigns;
Instill and fester religiosity phobias;
Use creed, color of skin, and class definitions as the psycho toolbox of cultural bias and apartheid;
Foster the piddle stream media as THE propaganda machine;
The corporate state’s lies by liars lying permeate the narrative;
Western inbred acceptance of violence via the cult of entertainment is the soft sell of pro-war hate speech;
and, so forth.
The incomplete list above are components to ill conceived models of human social organization.

If we continue to open governments, expose agendas, and use truth rather than arms you and I can jump over national boundaries and in solidarity detach from the prevailing madness.

Once we reach the 35% benchmark of no longer participating in the rigged game we better have our shit together to creatively and peacefully begin to live in peace and sustainability.

Personally, I am not into fixit Bandaides and running rescue wagons – politics and policy papers lined my former life. My here and now agenda is to shine light into the core of the rotting center and inform you of the systemic patterns. Once the intricacies are identified, the players revealed, and the shadows seen we must have a healing way to move forward otherwise the void will once again flood with false ego fed by fear.

There are various proposals for humankind to reach its societal well being. Yet, as long as these are defined using geo-political demarcations we are setting ourselves up for the redux of conflict and civil disorder.

One planet, one peace is no longer an utopian manifesto – it is the survival road map for Homo sapiens sapiens. Let’s get busy devising an outline. You begin, I have to go count birds, but BRB.


Damselfly Dreams

Screen shot 2015-07-02 at 11.23.43 AMTwenty-seven traveling partners kettled slowly moving southward, sky-based. They swirl and twirl. The thermals lift them upwards and sideways as their wings and tails adjust here and there in the invisibility of life wanting to live. The back of a perfected yellow flower illuminated by filtered sunlight casts a buttery shadow as a breathing cord of glistening leaves and woody vine supports the advent of its bloom and its willing sisters. Gently the entire living apparatus ever so slightly moves with the breeze welcoming another day of morning sun and probably drenching rains by mid-afternoon.

Three dogs spread out in contented sleep on cooling terracotta tiles of a covered veranda above the jungle expanse by the Pacific. Waterfalls and buzzing hummingbirds are louder than the opening of flowers or wheezing companion canines. The trilling call of tinamou announces the light intruding into the surrounding rainforest as the blazing star and spinning planet discuss life at latitude nine. The metal roof crinkles and cracks expanding and contracting from the same little cosmic dwarf of sustaining energy.

Humans forgot how to watch and hold reverence for life, or maybe they never learned. Instead of connecting with the magnetics of the web they trample, bulldoze, dig, drill, and leave their enomous footprints upon a pristine terraform. They seem dulled, disputed, and damp of soul. If a spark of interdependent wonder could be ignited, a collective spirit of oneness activated, maybe their species extinction could be averted. Karma has already left the collapsing buildings in urban centers and institutiions of ‘higher learning’.

Those paying attention realize the non-mystery of human madness stems from a manifesting self-will-gone-amuck, cancerous and lethal. In the evolutionary bio-diverse pathway Homo sapiens, too rude, too crude, too fat with fate, stand stuck at the threshold to the doorway of mindfulness. Unable to gleefully parade into a surging paradise – one with all living things – they groan and burp overstuffed with arrogance and unwillingness. For the few observing life in the here and now, sensing a pervasive polluting disconnect there is roaring clarity not a gap in conscience. The compassionate feel the wholeness of life, yet an expanding mourning weights them at the ankles. How sad. What a waste of gliding potential and unrequited empathy.

All humanity has to do is enact a series of simple tasks philosophers and sages have advised for thousands of years. But the majority of the largest brained mass are ruled by their innate stupidity pulled down by addictive primitive fears. They produce generation upon generation of woeful workerbees and overseers compliant to force fed lies and deadened to the scented alluring magic of life. Tools superseded being. Conquering supplants paying it forward.

While the human world blows each other up, piercing their non-exclusive global nest with toxic waste, and intellectually patronizing all remains peaceful where the damselfly dreams. Never-safe in the outpost of beauty and serenity far away from human crapola the natural world cleverly with no bravado lives and dies, as it has powerfully done for eons.

If the primal lesson of humanity is to be humble like the soaring migrating birds of prey and splashy colors of flowers it is mostly unheeded except for the rare ones – the innocence of toddlers and the evitability of enligtened elder wisdom. Every living thing is in remarkable chaotic sync except most humans. Every inhale and exhale of life exists in interparlay linkage as if not a big deal. It is what it is from meta-universe to dark energy to God particle. Acceptance is cognizant in some jubliant with play such as brotherly sisterly dolphins and in others it is an endless steady cyclic journey such as army ants on Colorado Isle in Panana or one galaxy slow-mo consuming another.

Love, a precious commodity, in lieu of shields lowered, waits. Peace, amongst human nations nearly non-existent, stands ready. The damselfly, seeking a water spring and possible dragonfly sprite, dodges and hovers. God consciousness, limitless and eternal envelopes the comos with neither judgment nor comment, encompassing worlds inside worlds. The silly human mindscape of pieces of cloth signifying bigotry or nationalism, or delivering pendantic statements how same sex combos are unholy (in nature there is every conceivable sexuality) or this today’s human horror show, are vain transients in the greater and greatest scheme of life wanting to live.

We exist as one. We are yin yang life in solidarity including being magnetically repelled. Why is the dance of oneness such a tough concept for the highest IQ beings on the third rock?

Spying on the Spies Spying on Us

Spies spy, this is their official overt mandate although their actions are suppose to be covert. NSA spying on allies is not shocking to me (see Guardian article below). When you operate from a paranoid world-view that everyone is out to get you (read US of Constant Wars) what can one expect? This is why France’s political power base is going to vote for new powers to spy on its own citizenry. Everyone spying on everyone else is a surveillance political circle jerk (sorry for the graphic). What is scary is how easily it is to procure sensitive info and sell it to the highest bidder. As such, even Ben Franklin’s son William, a loyalist, sold information about his father to the Crown.

Snowden, Manning, Hammond, and other whistleblowers of our war economy horrific times are not offering revelations for money nor do i believe they acted from a childish need for attention. They came forward to warn and inform the world and consequently are suffering the wrath of the empire. Hypocrisy exhibited is pro forma for the empire’s hollow leadership where values and ethics are neither affirmed nor sought. For the security apparatus to perceive Julian Assange equal to a full blown terrorist ramped up to kill kids in a Pakistan school is insane. It is beyond disturbing the empire sees journalists and journalism in the same waterboarding shadows as the madmen who send kids wired with chest bombs into places of worship.

‪#‎WikiLeaks‬ publishes and also archives massive amounts of communications between nefarious govt. actors and corrupted entities along with other pertinent documents in what can only be termed – perennial intrigues. Without astute technical nerd skills to house and safeguard these cables, and various other significant data materials, you and I would be further stuck behind higher and thicker opaque walls unable to see let alone hear the truth.

For many years I rummaged around inside the dumps of political madness and historical outlines attempting to personally comprehend America’s innards and decode interlinking webs to explain same to myself, and to you. Unfortunately, in Murica big news qualifies as the opening of the newest micro-brewery or an orchestrated derailment from truth by the latest piddle stream media spin.

H/w example of a derailment = The funeral tomorrow in Charleston, South Carolina and the harangue over the Confederate colors – the battle flag of Gen. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia. i guarantee the media will rage on for months as THE debate of heritage. South Carolina was the first state to secede, two months after the election of Abraham Lincoln. It was in South Carolina the Civil War began, when the Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter. Taking down flags that supported black slavery as the basis of white equality is reverse bigotry? It has been 150+ years the Confederate flag has flown over public buildings.

Side bar:
Souls who died or were wounded in the American Civil War (April 12, 1861 to April 9, 1865).
Union =
140,414 killed in action
~ 365,000 total dead
275,200 wounded
Confederates =
72,524 killed in action
~ 260,000 total dead
137,000+ wounded
Civilian =
number of wounded unknown

700,000+ dead
412,200+ wounded

These numbers may sound like the south won but the north had 2 million soldiers and the south only had 1 million. Disease is what also killed, not just stupid macho bull corn called collateral murdering (war) for one’s beliefs.

Core-bemoaning – what i label the wholistic smews I write – is not popular as it requires an attention span and curious intelligence to stay the course during unfolding events without forgetting critical thinking.

I wear no mask. I am an open book with thick covers. No one is around to put a paper bag over my head. My agenda is information as a format of communication art.

The incredible dramatic need for the healing of human systemic rot is a world-wide emergency. Some of you nice folks are growing strawberries and backyard chickens as your preference to fighting the flailing system. Others of you, in desperate and far deeper piles of shit, work like crazed camels to educate the next generation (your kids) in hopes they can assume the throne of power and shift the paradigm.

My life is simple and free. Because of decades of working on a treadmill I now have the time and a devoted inclination to over come disinformation machinations by offering commentary based in factual reality. No one is my boss. No one tells me what to quote, state, or bemoan. The Net places our communications equal to any news service. Transparency, ethics, and SEO expertise can foist anyone above the din and matrix noise. Yet, be assured I am not operating as a lone wolf.

The Highlander drum I beat is repetitive and at times this grates on my snotty creative persona. I prefer jazz bent originality or at least a fresh scene to write a finer script. Yet, to help others discover the facts to break denial demands consistency be one more sharp tool to dismantle the clown car while building a bridge across the abyss of apathy.

Writing in cliche is on purpose. Making up words is part of my recovering stony writer’s prerogative. Re-using hot shot buzz words is strategic intent. Yet, facts are researched and confirmed. If i am duped into posting something faux hopefully i am the first to admit it.

What is unacceptable is the intrusion of our privacy and the alteration of justice by greed, or any other negative. What is wasteful and stupid is sexual harassment by trolls and other nut jobs.

‪#‎Freedom‬ and prosperity are not mutually exclusive. As those with conscience awake and become enraged I am not seeking a resolution by igniting anarchy. I am a Ben Franklin styled pacifist (see pbs link below). My personal goal is not to violently overthrow corporate govts., religiosity, and/or civil society. But, while i might parse out slices of mountain berry and apple pie doused in lemon curd the iced chai tea I serve is not brewed by the ‪#‎NSA‬ or, any of its subcontractors. I remain a peace and freedom revolutionary.

Hermit Couple – Exploding Super Giant?

Screen shot 2015-06-13 at 2.33.45 PMSomeone sent me a private comment how my husband and i were a ‘#hermit couple’ and this is one huge reason our nineteen-years of bliss were inspiring. Maybe. I mean i am a jungle hermit, but he was not. The man could not find enough in the day to make a difference for a better world by being in it up to his brainy witty perspectives and do-gooder acts – in total anonymity, or as country lawyer in #TheHamptons (so he could fish for #StripedBass). Yes, i was more (larger in heart) with him. Independent yet inter-dependent is a toughie to describe. It is rare in our species like a focus striving for purity.

Attributes of our intense intent coupling included (while awake) a plethora of discourse – talk it through – plus we left crappy attitudes at the front door (although the hut has no front door), and lived with courage of adventurous hearts against all odds including scary oceanic falling seas and American politics. We were at times oil and water mixed into a powerful potion. He was a lifelong GOP. I was a lifelong Dim. One non-negotiable common ground – we never discussed the #Vietnam War. He was a tweener never subjected to war as young men were – for this i am grateful. Hubbie two was too young for #Korea and too old for #Nam and every subsequent conflict of greed.

We were wordsmiths. He was succinct in writing and way too windy in tale telling and funny, always smiling and charming with one-liners people use to write down so they did not forget. I am windy in writing and barely articulate in person at this late stage of living as the widow on the hill.

Life serves up lessons by the plateful and at times the meal stuffs one to near barfing capacity. But, since I have an avid birder’s faith in a higher power, even epic drama eventually washes away or flies into the moonbeams. I am not into drama except in movie and novel scripts. Although, I seem to brush up against folks on the edges who prefer heated nutso scenes to serenity and stability (my survival preference).

The cosmos are damn wowie zowie but because of our tempered 60 beats per minute metabolism we require mega optics to catch a glimpse. Even when red giant Betelgeuse blows up it will not injure the precious blue marble. The living creatures of Earth will see its super nova self explode as it becomes the brightest light, after the moon, in our night sky. When will this cosmic event take place? Betelgeuse could go insanely wild tonight or maybe not until our species is long gone.

What a wondrous mysterious universe we inhabit as single acts, hermit couples, or in solidarity against the empire. Thank our lucky stars. Love does make the path smoother, if true to thine own self blessed with destined compassion.

Pensiveness is not morose, it is honor for what was, what is, and shiny stars a-coming.

Dear Glenn Greenwald (

In the early 90s, I unexpectedly became aware of what i called the ‘team pollution solution’ operating inside the LA Times empire. While covering an environmental story (a former focus) I encountered a LA Times team of bullshitters. After hours in the disaster field doing interviews, inspecting the site, and generally wandering around like i am prone to do I retired to a nearby motel for the evening. After privately settling into an after work comfort zone, a brazen hammering on the plastic thin door to my temporary abode got my attention. I was forced to get up from my rest period to fling open the cheap portal and ask, “Aye, is there a bloody problem?”

A curly haired guy dressed as if his mother forgot to launder his gym clothes spat through his Heineken vapors, “Are you nuts, i mean are you some kind of f*ckin’ eco-terrorist?” Standing at the threshold in a rumbled bird print sundress and slinky sandals I responded, “Aye, and if ya aren’t a wee more civil, ya are goin’ to be me first victim.” Somehow, the tinge of Scottish accent took the intruder aback. He grinned as if on psychedelics laced with speed. “Sorry, I expected you to be kinda like a mountain man in a loin cloth. Wow, you are BE Macomber, right?”

Writing under a pen name with initials means I am not identified as female or male so the dunderhead corps expect me to be a he-man? Many times those who run a linebacker block in my direction while I am standing just off the playing field (body politic) has this effect. I am not what they perceive. My snarly semi-gonzo writing does not jive with my 5 feet 2 inches Lady Macomber green-eyed actuality.

My professional notion to observe the nation, and beyond, is for me a sworn duty to wholistic report what I see, not what a 24-year old editor an/or signator on a pay warrant wants blabbered on their masters’ behalf. When I signed up for ethics and values i must have gotten in the wrong line. Somehow I ended up standing in a Hari Krisha conga line of amateur theologians and wannabee holy seers instead of the set-up for western reporters/journos.

In the article below, Greenwald rants about the #LATimes editorial and others who work in the hallow halls of journo-tisement for the empire. Holy bleating toucans, anyone who encounters the ‘pollution (as in clogging up the world) solution (as anti-real pepper spray)’ within the Murica press knows these schmucks sold out as soon as they got their letters of acceptance from Columbia School of Journalism (CJ). It took me about five hours to be taught how to write a news story in the AP/UPI style recommended. My theory is those attending four years at CJ are subjected to a brain removal then the airy fairy space between their slanty ears is filled with corporate caca. They become soldiers of not fortune, but rather, noise making mercenaries.

Dear one, Glenn Greenwald, Esq., it is not reactionary for the LA Times to negatively blab on about Ed Snowden. It is their inbred corporate policy to defame, denounce, denigrate, and generally f*ck over truth and its messengers. Yet in the past, reading the latest fear mongering twit fantasy from the LA Times I might have emailed one or two of my terse scathing reactionaries to the faux journo who sparked my ire. So, in fairness to the game plan – freedom of the press – I do identify with your incessance to rail on against the system’s mouthpieces.

What I did to soothe my spiky head feathers = I quit cold turkey reading and watching crap disseminated by the corporate propaganda machine. Wonderful changes occurred h/w the healing jungle world. One, I immediately gained time to focus on research valuable to the movement of truth. Two, my brain is not taser-shocked with their ignorant arse ole flimsy lies. Three, I read poetry, thinkers, philosophers, and believers.

Maybe this is clearer – Lars Iyer is poignant?

Hey, there are other links, I am delighted to suggest to anyone willing to ask.

H/w = Glenn Greenwald’s article =