#Syrian Conflict is a World War Call to Arms

The Khaled bin Walid, Screen shot 2015-10-02 at 11.16.07 AM

a mosque in Syria, whose mausoleum has been partially destroyed in the al-Khalidiyah.

Awhile ago I stopped counting how many countries were bombing the shit out of Syria in this proxy war of wars. Is it 8 or 10? What is clear is this is WWIII as every statistic verifies same.

The US of Constant Wars has reached a new found insane level of overt and covert confusion in its foreign policy. I contend elements in the #CIA are going rogue while the #Pentagon is saddled with outdated strategies and in its frustration is incapable of advising let alone directing itself. The West Wing does not know to shit or go blind. #Obama is a puppet with so many strings attached (#NSA, Wall Street, etc.) he is tangled beyond redemption. #Kerry is doubting all intel.

The only way out of this god awful lethal mess is to reach some kind of accord with ALL these interfering murdering basturds. Saudi Arabia is totally out of control in Syria and Y#emen plus if the House of Saud keeps these wars going it will go broke in a few years because its treasure chest – the oil economy – is going down.

This may have started out a religious war of #Shia vs. #Sunni but it is now a full blown proxy war of wars. Ironically, the Syrian people continue to support Assad and those left if put to a vote tomorrow would probably keep him and his adminstration.

The coup of coup Syrian military officers who attempted to overthrow #Assad are as disorganized and useless as the US Congress. #ISIS has commandeered Iraq and uses Syria as it’s manpower conduit and training ground.

Everyday, ISIS gains recruits from the other two Syrian factions along with foreign fighters who believe they can do some good and help establish the 21st Century state of United Islam States. Then there are the other actors – the US, #Russia, #NATO, #Turkey, #Iran, the #Kurds, the #Lebanese, the #Jordanians, #Bibi, the #Palestinians, the #Afghan version of Islamic extremists and their counterpart in #Pakistan who fight for there idea of a caliphate.

What is not being said is – it is collective fear run riot the US ignited by invading Iraq. This madness is the foundation for WWWIII feeding into a spider web of extremism, horrible and corrupt foreign policy decisions, drugged-up warriors, and proxy slave soldiers each fighting for their version of God and country.

Sadly, it is only a matter of time before a dirty bomb is dropped and why nearly every non-combatant in the region wants out. But, in the meantime the Satans dealing in arms and the western military industrial complex are fueling and refueling World War III.

If it is true the #Chinese are sending their soldiers/ship then can anyone on this planet deny this is not WWIII? A proxy war of wars with this many countries involved is a world war.

A ceasefire may only come about when nukes are threatened so convincingly ALL parties appear at the negotiation table? Has anyone realized even if the fighting ceases to reach an accord with so many grudge driven bias parties will take years?

Perversion as a so called holy war of terror, sacred cities of ancient civilizations destroyed forever, the land burnt by chemical bombs, the exhibition of sickening brutality, and the mangling of hearts, bodies and souls serves whom for what?

Our species must discover a common ground – and, soon. The UN is a faux ego striving lot with grand concept and no true compassionate balls. It serves as a grandstand for the psychotics far more than a body to solve the human dilemma.


America Prepares – Earth Spins a Cliffhanger

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Hurricane Joaquin, October 1, 2015, at the time a Category Four storm spinning at 6 mph slowing moving south west as it pummeled the Bahamas.

US Govt.’s weather map is seen below . . . and, following the emergency preparation script handed out at training sessions for govt. leadership and first responders, the eastern seaboard is awash in govt. generated public information media stories, declarations of states of emergency, and info on how to prep for a hurricane, etc.

People are taking down Walmarts for supplies, evacuating known flood zones, looking for insurance papers, battening down their homes, vehicles, boats, corporate cubicles, and small businesses. If sports fans they are unhappily realizing their weekend favorite activity will be rescheduled. School administrators hold video calls to figure out revised schedules. Maintenance and road departments within villages, cities, and counties are preparing their equipment, headsets, and vehicles along with electrical companies line managers, hospital personnel, and police and fire guys who are meeting to go-over their particular coordinated local emergency plan.

The National Guard is being called up, quietly, and the US Air Force has ordered all airplanes (war machines) to fly to airbases our of harm’s way of the weather cliffhanger.

No one reports about what the wild creatures are doing to survive.

This is America held hostage by weather conditions as the govt. attempts to stabilize a nervous post-Sandy populous, and Wall Street, coming off its worst quarter in four years, ponders.

Looking a tad under the weather myself, I would add to this mix of human activity – ya reap what ya sow, fellow Muricans. Ma Earth is trying to adjust to the crap we spill, puke, and pump onto the land and into the waterways.

If you prefer not to engage in a debate about global climatic change since time is of the essence because of impending possibilities, may i suggest during down time the next 48 hours you consider what you can do to reduce the shit in your lifestyle and then actually implement these acts.

I mean if the entire human-frantic Eastern seaboard can mobilize for #Hurricane #Joaquin, one would propose this mass can figure out how to collectively live sustainably not destroying life at such a reckless rate the Big Kahuna eco-system, known as Earth, has to respond. Are we clear? Or do you need more time? Because, frankly, we just moved several additional seconds into the last minute of our allotment on the human clock.

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From the Hut – Short Tales of Timidity

I passed the final week’s quiz and now all i need to do is take the final exam (and pass) for my Terrorism and Counter-terrorism course from Leiden University, the Hague. This week’s study focused on active foreign fighters in #Syria. It was informative as readings were especially scholarly not limited to the party line from #Europol, #EU and the #UN. Yet, the amount of effort, money, and consternation exhibited over the paranoia of former foreign fighters returning to their homeland to act out as terrorists is a fertile field for additional layers of fear mongering. This collective psychosis reminds me of the enormous bias swirling that within the refugee exodus are hidden terrorists who will destroy Europe.

Fear is the core issue with tinges of societal persecution complex (see Israhell’s justification for destroying #Palestine). Those who trudge around in anxious states are people refusing to go through the doors of perception and rid themselves of the shackles of delusion? Humans can manifest whatever. This is our curse and our grandeur.

I happily prefer to be in a demure world of now – one of natural abundance, overt kindness, loving gentleness, and freedom while supporting those whose idea of resistance to the ruling master dunderheads does not include violence. I am also not a ‘raise the vibration’ thumper, or swing the crystals over your chakras, or smoke herb to find your center. I am a purist (as in no mood altering substances) with no agenda except to live simply with mindfulness carrying a feathered medicine bag of fawning ethics and waning compassion. This perspective, at times, is perplexing for others as I do not fit into any one exclusive or inclusive beau ideal. I am grounded without standing on a stage or against a backdrop. I basically run the other direction from archetypes (studying Jung charted this course).

If one actually follows the ‘to thine own self be true’ axiom what evolves is a beauty of an unique life well lived, and one without tragic obsessions, rampant suspicion, daily delusions, or compulsive fear. Honesty is the password. Liars exist in a self-festered exaggeration of self-importance and typically this condition is elaborated into an organized system be it personal or a full blown societal psychosis (read US of Constant Wars #Congress).

Those who perceive the craziness of it all (humanity) are on the outside attempting to interface with others of their ilk. Social media is the medium we never had before to align ourselves, seek support, and open up the discourse for solutions and inventions.

For me, a Gringa living alone with a German Shepherd Company, is what another single woman on her finca in Costa Rica calls, “tough as nails but nice.” My nails are thin and splintered, yet painted. . . as to nice, more likely I am fast on the uptake, yet very slow to piss off. I never was jammed up with rage against the machine, or other entities or authorities of deception, rather I am over-brimming with passion for justice for Earth and peace. Aye, it is the loving cup is half full, not half empty.

My funky theory is why empower the sham masters and their distortions with emotive reactionary stances – they ain’t worth it. These small souls are being eaten by their gadget purchased canards with anchors tethered to inbred fallacy and force fed perjury. Those reveling in this twisted vista i firmly contend will reap their karma.

Nature, for me, is a truth to stave off human arrogance and fits of melancholy or mendacity. God, who is alive pulsating the universe, has a non-fiction plan far more intricate and wondrous than our pitiful pool of bipeds will ever comprehend – no matter how large our brains grow or how vast our artificial computer systems evolve. We will remain upright cheap imitations spinning our fables until we over-stay and/or accelerate our deceitful welcome.

#Nature has a vigor, an openness, and a dominant potentiality to rectify mistakes in its body. Why is it so characteristically difficult for our dumb arse species to comprehend we are but a wee part of the #Gestalt? Tick tock. Tick tock.

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Photo:¬†Bright-blue Earth looms over the oldest known planet in the Milky Way. The ancient planet is thought to be about 13 billion years old, more than twice as old as Earth and a mere billion years younger than the estimated age of the universe. Its discovery, made using NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope, is evidence that planets began forming soon after the big bang and may be very abundant in our galaxy. Source: National Geographic.

#Justice, #Freedom, and #Bread – Sort of . . .

I have a distinct personal dislike for the #HouseofSaud. Some of its gaudy ornamental princes go around the world murdering (hunting) rare creatures because they write checks to govts. See photo below taken in #Pakistan.

I knew one House of Saud boy-man in my life – a tall ‘ish classy fellow student at UC Berkeley. His formalized gentleman manners were only out festooned by his 19th century chauvinism and adoration for Italian sports cars and one honey blonde beauty. I think he asked my Italian American roommate out more than I knew it was possible for a young man (let alone grad student) to stay interested.

Rose bouquets of rare colors would too regularly arrive at our front door befitting for a mafioso’s funeral or Sicilian national wedding. Yet, my favorite where baskets of desert dates and dried fruits so grand in size and volume we were forced to organize what we called – Fruity Tuttie Parties. At these events, we gave away judicious amounts of dates and dried apricots as party favors while raising money for our save a pet or political charity of the moment. Naturally, the unrequited prince would arrive with his bodyguard who on his own filled the foyer of our little rented cottage. For these festivities the Prince would have delivered platters from an Italian deli (San Francisco’s North Beach #Molinaridi’s) that we preferred along with kegs of imported beer and cases of decent Napa wine. His one-man crew brought bags of cash.

When I moved onto graduate school and my roomie took her first position as an industrial designer in San Francisco the prince went home. For awhile we feared he would kidnap her, yet as time marched into the future I suppose his Berkeley-based obsession was replaced by another. It was decades later when I was betting on horses did I discover who he was – #HRH Prince Fahd Salma. He died in 2001 from a heart attack and is best remembered for owning one of Brit’s greatest thoroughbreds named, #Generous. When one considers gifts the Prince bestowed on my roommate, the name of his racehorse is exceptionally appropriate.

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What happened to my roommate? After designing hotsy Milano looking furniture she married a nice Italian American guy who we all thought was mobbed-up. But, Catholic Lou (my handle for him) turned out was a member of a heritage family – the bakers of famous San Francisco sourdough French bread. Then again, they could be cosa nostra, like the pizza store front operations of New York City, eh?

Note: https://www.greenleft.org.au/node/48999

)ne, Two, Three Hipsters behind the Curve

Most of what is blabbered as #Screen shot 2015-09-26 at 4.46.55 PMTweets, or Fedbook posts, or added to the noise of the Blogo-sphere or spit out by the piddle stream media is redundant. It is a repost, a retweet, a share, a pass-along, a copy, etc. Most human creativity is redundant but not necessarily superfluous. Are you hip to the nuance?

Humans a-twitter in ego-fits beam they have designed, fashioned, or built the next Genesis for the narrative. Possibly this explains why I prefer furniture with hand cut dove-tailed corners in my home space and dog-eared books lining my bookshelves. It is the patina of life and on a sturdy case-piece waxed and standing around for a century, or more, that i dig. It is the karma of the thing.

I can barely look at what is hot in ‘contemporary’ art passing itself off as ‘original’. It is caca. It annoys my ole soul and short circuits my heart from its giant rabbits painted with ugly colors and gross brush strokes to the faked emotive landscape of abstracts. I do go for conceptual pieces (see photo but for sh*t-sake do not click on the porn ads on the page this photo hails from).

Recently, it was revealed i am not alone in a disdain for the artsy fartsy scene of collector greed and trendsterizing*.

I dunno. It could be living 24/7 with remarkable natural beauty and its life and death cycles. The treasures of its truth overshadow any human attempt to make new? I am forever altered by Finca Vigia? The power of place has torn up societal impingement and the yin yang of cosmic education I thought at one time was expanded consciousness?

Am I morphing into a curmudgeon-ite? I am not innately bad-tempered nor outwardly surly otherwise why would the dogs smile and dance when i sing their tunes. Yes, I devised a special short ditty for each canine. No, I am not suffering from too much time, rather too little left.

I am not serving up a box of razors. It is nearly 5 PM, very cool, raining, kinda dreary, and I am also not whining or wincing. I wrote a long piece and it was eaten up by the matrix. What remains is this post, it is all i can remember of what I first wrote, so how important could it have possibly been in the Kahuna scheme, fellow Earthlings?

* madeup word

On Advertency

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Today’s one-liner, isn’t:

“Without perspective we become less than what we are and more of what we do not want to be.” Sam Richardson, California artist

My training in art was traditional. I learned perspective as a kid beginning with two-point perspective drawings. This limited artsy introduction was hobbled to looking at architecture in the sunshine and seeing the structure’s shadows (negative space) to define the perspective in reality and eventually in my mind’s eye. Then i expanded and tried to see perspective in flowers, birds, the sea, clouds, and the intricacy of spirals and finally within myself – as reflection. When I arrived at the destination of civil society in my quest, perspective took a protracted hiatus. This tipping point lingers.

Art is a pathway and it is a quiet guru-less way of living enmeshed in aesthetics and sensitivity. Art commissions one’s whole person to become healed by beautifying and connecting – inter and intra. I am grateful for awareness and for an innate ability to seek, to be forever curious, to imagine as many possibilities as my pea brain can hold and my corroding heart chambers can pulse. To live what I call, in the groove, on the beam, and at rare times in the real deal flow – such is the poetic here and now, and if this authenticity is not the enchantment of consciousness, then enlighten me.

I will be candid with you, I do not ‘get’ how people can operate without perception let alone be without compassionate, nor how they cannnot adore Earth, or not be willing to love and laugh without irreversible abandonment. Are they cursed with primitive-fed fear? Did their gene pool never experience the phenomenology of insight?

Okay, so I am inbred snotty and at times gratuitously romantic but is there not a moment when each of us realizes a bird’s eye view is without parallel? One world oneness is not an interpretation, it is the wholism of right impression, right action, and the height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other when viewed from any particular point. It is a global perspective.

Into the mix is stirred humility. Diffidence is a weird one – it can be a light bulb moment or a hammer falling on one’s big toe. Some feel it as humiliation, a questionable self-victimization?

The ego whispers or screams as it is seems with humanity it is unusual for ego to be barely even-keeled. Ego mediates between the conscious and the unconscious. It is responsible for realty testing and a sense of personal identity. In metaphysics ego is a conscious thinking subject.

In Jungian thought (where I reside) Carl Jung said, “The ego stands to the self as the moved to the mover, or the object to the subject, because the determining factors which radiate from the self surround the ego on all sides and are therefore supraordinate to it. The self, like the unconscious, is an a priori existent out which the ego evolves.” (Transformation Symbolism in the Mass,” CW 11, par. 391.)

When ego rules (know it too well) we manifest the nasty inequality of human organization and forget to be free beings. Our history belies we have been at this trough of angst for thousands of years unable to move beyond pettiness, turf wars, and built-in bias.

If you find a smiling humble person with a grand sense of humor as friend, lover, partner, associate, or cyber-hell passerby who is also deeply creative, wonderfully independent, and paying-it-forward kind you are damn lucky, blessed really . . . or both. Presumptions evaporate and mobilization brings the dream state into the rock n’ roll world of consciousness.

Perspective on paper, or in the sand, is a voiceless mirror on the perspective of one’s life? Disturbances we manifest in our personal interactions are micro to the macro of mass human behavior. I do not do well with drama queens or those who like to gossip or nitpick. My first case scenario with these folks is not to turn my cheek but to as soon as possible (but not rudely) split from the scene. Over the decades any tolerance with this pettifogging lexicon vanished along with any desire to fix the fuckers. “Move on, next . . . a mantra to edit the emotionally shabby divisionaries*.

The meanings of symbols, in poetry, dreams, art, story, myth and even literature and illustration fashioned within children’s books are how we move from defeat, pain and suffering (individually or as a collective) to melding a place of love – of adaptation and transformation.

*one of my made-up words, but you get its meaning, eh?

Jamie Harkins, sand art, a perspective.