The Japans - Echoes of the past

"Is this it? Is this the Japans?" It's the year 1600 and an English sailor has washed up on the shores of Japan after losing his ship as so many others had in the famously volatile Japanese waters. The crew had heard of this mysterious island but none knew if it truly existed. What they encountered would be the culture shock of their lives. Samurai walking around undisputed, able to chop a peasant's head off without a moment's notice. A fanatical belief in the order of things above any one individual. And a land marred by hundreds of years of civil strife, a centuries long struggle for power. I, too, was there. Who I was, I am not sure. Was I just another sailor washed ashore or was I Oda Nobunaga, the savage and fierce warlord who started the final drive for unification? Regardless, the echoes of the Japans still ring in my head. It is a land where life is viewed as a fleeting dream and that dream I once shared. I've had literal goose bumps reading the events of Japanese history, the Sengoku era of the 1500s affecting me the most. How I ache to once more wander the "Land of the gods" when we were free to shape the world and blaze trails of glory. I also remember the swords; sharp shiny glints of steel in the midday sun. To this day there is nothing more repulsive to me than a dagger. It has to be the most vile thing ever devised and even those for display should be melted and put to better use. Swords, though repulsive, can be works of art but a dagger is just evil. It is this violence I found fatal to the Japanese mindset, which one day led to the dropping of the two most horrific bombs in history. But at least that led to the preservation of this, one of the great cultures on Earth. So for me it was a pilgrimage to visit the Japanese Gardens in Fort Worth. I picked a day cold, wet and rainy - a time when only I would be there (and for most of the time I was). Once more I walked in the ancient footsteps and relived those feelings of being free and vibrant - this time without the horror of violence. Comparing that life to the one I had now was crushing. To go from somebody to nobody. But at least for one rainy day I was back in "the Japans". Will Adams was ship's pilot of the crashed vessel in 1600. He went on to become the only foreigner ever to be made samurai. Anjin-san he was called, and recalling the explosion of wonder and curiousity of discovering the Japans, the feelings of that ancient mariner live once more. "Marooned in the Japans" by Pilot, 'Anjin-san' (A poem written both then and now) I've found a home that's not a home, My soul no place to rest; And though I search both time and space, I never find my own. In this land I found a world, A world out of my dreams; But stranger I will always be, Yet strange my land now seems. So once again I hoist my sails, My place is on the seas; But with no points left unknown, A pilot's left to grieve. So I am like the raindrop, That lands upon a leaf; Happily rejoicing, Though I know my time is brief. For a few hours, I was Pilot. It was a very lonely feeling and I cried in the rain.

Der Furor lives

"The future is ours"

Our good Furor (it's a play on words, folks), Laura Miller, a.k.a Mein Kampf is reveling in her victory. While adjusting her armband swastika, she gloated over new eugenics laws for the homeless. Laughing maniacally, she claimed she is "actually trying to help the homeless." She spoke of her dream of a New World Order where all homeless are out of sight or, preferably, dead. She said the next step would be to provide work camps for the homeless. First of these to be named "Camp Auschwitz".


Don't we institutionalize people anymore? Are we just going to let predators like this run around free? Many turned a blind eye on Hitler's campaign against the Jews because, well, you know, it wasn't them. But because we have yet to learn anything from that, history repeats itself. I'm sure Mein Kampf would say the problem is I don't understand her grand vision for a new reich. Ah, dear Furor, the problem is we do understand. You deceive only you and your ilk.

And of course, some know-it-all liberal had to stick in his two cents on this:

     "For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat. I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink. I was a stranger and you did not invite me in. I needed clothes and you did not clothe me. I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me."
     They also will answer," Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?"
     He will reply, "I TELL YOU THE TRUTH, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me."

When confronted with this quote, the Furor's mysterious reply was only, "Rock harder with the Bone."
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DALLAS (AP) - Panhandling banned. Shopping carts prohibited on city streets. The distribution of food to the homeless restricted to designated areas.

With a series of ordinances governing its growing homeless population, Dallas is gaining a reputation as a city uncharitable toward some of its neediest citizens.

The National Coalition for the Homeless recently ranked Dallas sixth among the Top 10 "meanest" cities in the country. No. 1 was Sarasota, Fla.

Dallas officials say they are trying to steer the homeless toward help and make the streets a little safer for them. But advocates for the estimated 9,000 homeless people in Dallas say the city is pursuing a harsh and pitiless policy.

"That's like a form of social Darwinism, if you cut off food to force people to get help, and it really doesn't work that way," said Michael Stoops, acting executive director of the National Coalition for the Homeless.

Last month, Dallas began enforcing an ordinance that prohibits charities from distributing free food to the homeless except at city-approved locations and only after volunteers undergo food safety training, provided free by the city. Violations of the law, enforced by city food inspectors, are punishable by fines up to $2,000.

"It's OK to sell someone a sandwich, but if I hand a sandwich to a homeless person, I'm committing a crime," groused Charles Wellhausen, a volunteer for the Sathya Sai Baba Center.

The ordinance was passed last summer. Over the past few years, Dallas has also banned begging and prohibited possession of a shopping cart away from the cart owner's property.

Mayor Laura Miller said that the city is actually trying to help the homeless, whose population doubled last year and is expected to grow again as displaced Hurricane Katrina evacuees lose their free federal housing this month.

She noted that voters last fall approved construction of a $23.8 million homeless shelter to replace an overcrowded one. The 24-hour shelter would provide beds, restrooms, showers, job training and mental health treatment and is set for completion in 2008.

Boadicea White, the city's interim manager for homeless services, said the feeding ordinance was designed to fight litter and food-borne illnesses and steer the homeless to places where they could receive a variety of services, not just meals.

"We're definitely not trying to starve anyone and not trying to keep anyone from services," she said. "We're trying to do just the opposite."

James Waghorne, a 48-year-old advocate for the homeless, said the new ordinance will lead more people to eat out of the trash. He said he received food from a charitable organization during the two years he lived on the streets.

"It really wasn't so much about the food, but that someone still cared," he said.

Yes, Virginia, this is the Age of Aquarius

The end of the Lord of Rings trilogy states at its conclusion so also ended the Third Age of Middle Earth. And though Tolkien said he did not write the book as a conscious allegory to WWII, he could not of helped but to have been influenced by that time. The fate of the world was held in balance and the forces of light won - art mimics life. Nevermore could we go back to our old way of thinking. We passed through a door. Germany and Japan were forgiven. The time of war as a solution passed away forever. Having explored death, it was now time to explore life (though many would stay morally behind the times to keep war alive). Long, long had we waited for this moment. The flood had receded. Our rainbow reward was here. These are the times that have been foretold. "There's nothing new under the sun"(Ecclesiastes 1:9) the good book says. And so it is. Ancient songs were now to stream back into our conciousness. We rediscovered our place in the universe. Long forgotten dreams were given thought to once again. But would we take what had been given to us? Or would we be like the ancient Isrealites who used up their blessings and realized their woe too late? The Fifties was a time of pioneering souls. As this was a time of celebration, it was the singers and songmakers who lead the way. We were feeling our way, dipping our toes in the water. An undercurrent was forming. Life - was it really to be trusted? That undercurrent came to the fore in the Sixties. Many claim to be part of the Sixties, but few were. Most just went along for the ride, feathers in the wind. After testing us with Hitler, God now gave us Lennon. Even politics came alive with Kennedy. It was a time of questioning and searching for new answers - as long as were were comfortable with the answer. From the colors of the Sixites we go to the black and white of the Seventies. We became self-concious. Talk of revolution became talk of partying (not a wholly bad thing). Ideals were out, self-absorption was in. "Doesn't anyone believe in vibes anymore?" Lennon asked. Ah, Johnny, they never did. And we proved it by shooting him, unable to endure his idealism anymore. "Morning in America," declared Reagan, the Dark Prince. With the shooting of Lennon, the message of evil could now go unchallenged. The Eighties were like an echo, like the sound of heartbeats growing ever fainter. Until finally, the heart died. No more would our music be joyous. Silence became complete. Nothing left to do now but get angry. Since the world is crap and life - as we surmised - is crap, being angry seems almost somehow holy, somehow moral. We threw one last orgy of greed in the Nineties, all the while consuming ourselves in "holy wars". The ultimate goal in life now was to get your evil declared holy and immerse yourself in it. "They will beat their swords into plowshares "and their spears into pruning hooks. "Nation will not take sword up against nation, "Nor will they train for war anymore." Isaiah 2:4 Sounds like a pipedream, huh? I mean, everybody's vying for their own little piece of power. But the problem with declaring your evil holy, is that you then stop trying to let it go. That is a death sentence. And while it is true those are the ones running the show now, their window is short and they will die by their own hand if they stay the course. That is our Lord's judgment. Life is good (not sarcasm).

The Word

Say the word and you'll be free
Say the word and be like me;
Say the word I'm thinking of;
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine, It's sunshine;
It's the word, love.
In the beginning I misunderstood;
But now I've got it, the word is good.

Spread the word and you'll be free;
Spread the word and be like be;
Spread the work I'm thinking of;
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine, It's sunshine;
It's the word, love.
Every where I go I hear it said;
In the good and bad books that I have read.

Give the word a chance to say;
That the word is just the way;
It's the word I'm thinking of;
And the only word is love;
It's so fine, It's sunshine;
It's the word, love.
Now that I know what I feel must be right;
I'm here to show everybody the light.

Say the word and you'll be free;
Say the word and be like me;
Say the word I'm thinking of;
Have you heard the word is love?
It's so fine, It's sunshine.
It's the word, love.

-John Lennon "Rubber Soul"

That song was released in 1966. No one heard the words then. No one hears them now. In the sixties, society "...took a laxative and farted", according to Lennon. In other words, no real changes took place. His generation - like all generations - was a fraud. But I wanted to reiterate his words. Can't annoy people too much with the truth.

"We shoot everyone sent to save us," a nurse friend of mine once remarked. Ghandi, King, Kennedys, Lennon - we didn't miss a one. Problem is, the damage had already been done. Once the words have been spoken, they can't be taken back. We can't "unknow" something. We have come to realize all you need is love. We have not come to terms with it yet.

Way of the Soul: Coda

I must give my soul its due. I suspect a secret wonderous life lies unfulfilled. As a child and on through my teens, things seemed so difficult because other people were to me so legendary. They lived these god-like lives that explored all the universe and life itself. It's almost as if they belonged to some great club of dreamers that let them see sides of life few others did. But I was always shocked how even the most legendary of these turned out so ordinary.

It was me that was the legend. Even now with a broader perspective, I struggle. What possesses me to cheat myself? I understand why Jesus was killed. The greatest moments of fury in my life have been when I observed someone else not cheating themselves, and taking their due. It burns like nothing else. Your immediate reaction is to extinguish the flame at all costs. This is why it's so necessary to take a vow of non-violence.

I did read about this one dude who did only as he wanted - and never looked back. School was a waste of time, he failed all his major exams. Teachers complained he would never amount to anything. Had no use for a stupid job either, so he never took one. The world tormented this joker and the joker mocked and tormented them back. He served only his soul, firmly believing his soul would provide. Did it?

Way of the Soul Part Deux

Miss (mis) vt. To feel or regret the absence or loss of; want

It's like I'm bleeding. My unreasonable soul just keeps asking, "Where's Debby?" I explain over and over and over, and just when you think it's convinced... "Where's Debby??" It fucking hounds me. How do you "un-long" for somebody?

It's a hole I can't fill. I've thought about the traditional methods like alcohol, but I don't drink. I try lying to myself but when I want to rest, the truth seeps back in. So I just try to numb myself best I can, which is death for an artist (unless you're a fraud like Pink Floyd). And it's in this choked up state that I appear most normal - like a truly functioning human being - when I'm holding my breath. Like now.

Morning time is the worst, when it's an actual physical ache. It's a physical craving of needing to be held. And when I feel this, my soul strikes again, "Hey, where's Debby?" Yell, scream, curse God and/or Debby - nothing makes a difference. It's like asking the wind not to blow.

My depression has been increasing. Though I winced a bit doing it, I decided to splurge on a nice meal to maybe pick me up. The place was great. I got to eat out on the veranda on a beautiful night and the smells from the surrounding restaurants were delicious. Down below I could see people gathering and talking, wafts of perfume floating up to me. The place was alive. I had picked well. My deception to the waiter also seemed to go well without any suspicion of my homelessness. But a few bites into my meal I suddenly stopped chewing. What's the use of anything good with her still in my heart? I forced myself to keep chewing but it was like I was outside of myself, watching myself.

My soul also has no reason on Debby's end either. It is unable to forgive her for abandoning me. It cannot fathom her marriage; selling her charms to receieve approval and to avoid loneliness. It has a rage against her. Logical arguments do not apply. These things are the course of nature.

Way of the Soul

My soul has no understanding. It sees itself and nothing else. "But if I follow only you I will die," I tell it. Jobs I've had are too numerous to count. My soul says no to them all. It has no fucking understanding of my needing to get money. It wants freedom and life. It sees all this as a gift. But I can give it nothing. The demands of Ceasar and the demands of God - I cannot satisfy either without dying, it seems.

I hear people who say that considering your soul is a crime. They are very condescending and speak like this: "Oh yes, I understand the need to consider your soul BUT..." 'But', of course, means disregard everything I've just said. "The demands of the world must come first," they contend. "Then you may consider your soul," they so graciously grant. But those people are criminals - they worship the world. They are like Pharaoh and the Nazis proclaiming the value of work for work's sake. This is done to disguise their sadism. But let me stick them in a job where they clean industrial urinals eight hours a day and tell them to base their lives on that and they sing a different song.

Work which does not benefit your soul does not benefit God. God doesn't need the land tilled or houses built or factories run. As each of us does the tasks our soul demands, all things necessary will be done. For one man to assign that task for another is a cardinal sin. In time, the folly of blackmailing people into jobs they do not want will be proven. As nature takes its course and seeks to correct the kinks we've inflicted, the price of denial will be horrific.

Moses did not originally ask to set his people free. He merely asked for a three day sabbatical to worship God. Pharaoh, the world worshipper, called him lazy (Exodus 5:17). To do something for your soul, how useless! How pretentious and specious! Get back to work you lazy fuckers! Sounds a lot like people of today - people who will share Pharaoh's fate.

Moses later reflected on this in a poem:

Pharaoh said to me,
"Hey, boy, whatcha doin'?
"I got a cushy kingdom
"And you start a fuckin' union!"