Indiscriminate censorship is apparent in the protection of 'intellectual property' rights essentially by closing certain venues on the World Wide Web. Not all men are interested in unlimited access to either pornography or the manufacture of mass destruction. Distraction would limit the rapid rise of population yet education would be more effective.

Publication via the Gutenberg Bible, possibly more historically relevant than the life and death of Jesus -- I may be wrong in this or merely confessing a personal perspective -- began the Age of Enlightenment. Introducing free will and thought to those who otherwise remained strangled by the State Church of Rome; become Italy. Next came radio, then television and now the Internet each medium in turn becoming a sewer of commercialism run by persons of modest wealth attempting to increase it without working for it. 

In many ways, to me, it seems our economy is similarly conducted and resembles gambling or divination with those who game stacking the deck against those who are content with an honest day's labor, shelter, food and a future for our children. Usury, once a fiercely condemned behavior by religion is now quietly accepted; i.e. The Vatican Bank.

The golden/silver rule: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Obviously aborted now exported, wholesale, as good for all mankind; a new religion of greed; once called Mammon or Baal or The Golden Calf: all false gods. 

"My grandfather once told me that there were two kinds of people: those who do the work and those who take the credit. He told me to try to be in the first group; there was much less competition."
"The power to question is the basis of all human progress." 
--Indira Gandhi

I am stubborn and hard headed, a difficult case; this argument for the reality of Love and/or God. By experience I can argue either side pro or con. As an advocate Of, For, By The people's governance I favor independence versus slavery by any means. My sense of this is not derived from any one origin since I am in daily contact with the people governed and know well their sorrow.

My advocacy is not seditious but a plea for justice and tolerance; and neither a world religion or governance.

Be well those who slay and the slain or merely slaves and the enslavers.

120906 07:36 all men
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Fabulously bent my esteemed bias for the wisdom of women; if not obvious to you now; you've not read me closely. And upon awakening second time this date; I am with a tincture of sorrow for those I've left behind; nothing new but rare the confession. 

Though I insanely love M for more reasons than I am able to articulate she has in subtle ways advocated that I leave those left in peace. 

Add what I presumed clinical detachment I now think it a ruse since by all estimation we are lovers save in dwelling together or the priviledge of kissing her hello/goodbye. 

Not too long back I took her hand heart pounding and lead her to the desert case in one of our favorite eateries. She did not shirk or flinch away as Susan once did my caress of her breast fatally. 

Between M&M sex will soon be impossible, touch remaining always possible, otherwise by death parted or her rejection of me anticipated by these words or simply by holding her hand leading her anywhere. She is so cute. When last we had lunch, she demurely grinning my last proclamation of love saying softly; "I know."

. . . adoring all phases of the moon and sun I stood awe struck moments ago seeing a choir of angels greyly awaiting their whiteness at full dawn the moon perfectly above enclosed in cloud an eye winking down and then and then the breeze caressed me and I wept as I weep now my sad joy for no matter what takes us apart we've been together before and again we'll be wherever so.

. . . sometimes unbridled joy sings these songs from whence I know not cometh and love has molested me gently her fond abuse forever remembered

120906 0549 joyful sadness
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Isolation and estrangement best describes me to myself as I was from an early age. Trusting strangers easily and shy of my parents, ashamed of myself and the 'family' I came from; early on learned to keep secret my secret humiliation. In AA and/or most, if not all twelve step programs I learned that "We are no Better than the Secrets we keep . . . " 

The ellipsis implies there is more, but most never go that far, or nearly as far as I've come. Or at that do I intend to go. My Higher Power is infinite and my intention, for a very long time, has been to go as far as going goes. 

Both parents were alcoholics. 

Meaning that they were significantly impaired by drinking; their personalities altered substantially if not radically. 

The before and afterward of two events in my life, trying beyond endurance were Randy's death and my abandonment of Susan, my then wife who I frequently refer to as the-bride-of-my-youth in that I loved her from the third grade of elementary school Old Greenwich, Connecticut. 

Ah Ha! 

Epiphany: 

My father thought it wonderful to be from Greenwich, of which Old Greenwich is a section of. And my mother apparently--dependent--upon him went along. Her behavior, as was Susan's, until both at a certain point decided upon independence: Mother took as lover a young man who served as clerk in our business. Susan decided to become an Episcopal Priest. 

Typical in my observation when one partner becomes significantly 'changed' thus a stranger; the one stuck in their ways leaves.

What had mystified me for years and years -- Susan's inability the express pain or fear -- I thought overwhelmingly, indicative of her lack of feelings. The clue, resolving a great mystery to me is that she like mom was silent; as I was taught so were they. To be seen and not heard; pets. Slaves to their parents.  

My adaption was to assume responsibility for their choice in behavior to me; to control myself in relationship to people out of control. Could it be that I became the parent to two children? Therefore write as the adoptive parent (surrogate 'higher power' to) the world sans my family: two dead biological in origin and one by adoption now fled. M, apparently healing me is equally silent and until recently unrevealing of her real self. "Real Self" in the kind and degree of willingness to reveal ourselves to another . . . what she has done for me is to make not a lamb but a mouse into a Lion. If a 'lion' then an odd combination of male/female since male lions are essentially not killers. Typical of all males they just make a great deal of noise. Or like junk yard dogs; none at all.

Curious I went to AA to understand my potentially being alcoholic in personality. Low and behold here I am free of that concern and all the difficulties of my life; including my death. Free to love myself as I was, am, will be. I care not whether I live or die since I know my Higher Power will guide and express intentions for me obviously as God has.

My fundamental definition of love is to accept were as Islam means to submit; same/same. I do not 'fear' God as implied from my reading of our Bible; I am fearless because of God. The Oriental Wisdom traditions do not acknowledge "God" but, in a sense, a "Higher Power" unknowable. The emphasis is knowing yourself; advocated by both Occidental and Oriental 'spiritual' mind sets; or perceptions of 'truth.' No wonder I despise The Theological Tango. . .about but not of God.

My initial motive in this post is to thank and praise those who in response have shared their impression of what I wrote and thus placed 'sticky notes' on my, invisible to me, self. Add to which in very significant ways, what I do that disables my core ideals. Rage against the blight of those who don't know themselves. Addicted to their unknowing would and do defend it by killing anything that is inconvenient to their sense of right and wrong or what might otherwise lead them to consider their behavior as inadequate. e.g. Make laws to protect and make noble their greed. Tainting the world with cupidity and enslaving all else. 

There is one God and of God is expressed in part or whole the essence of Love. Darwin expressed his sense the purpose and evolution of life by saying; "only the strong survive" meaning not individual animals but the gradual evolution from amphibian to flight. Outrageous abuse of the writers craft; what can I tell you I'm no writer but a fool in love with God. 

120906 01:11 isolation 
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Flawed then less so now still dysfunctional in deeply personal ways I remember my newspaper days.

"God has entrusted me with myself."
“If you wish to be a writer, write.” --Epictetus

"If you want to write, read."
"Use Do words, not Tell words." --Carol McCabe

That and ten thousand books brings me to this post . . . be careful I exaggerate my accomplishments regarding the number of books read. Remembering Ben Franklin's intention to do so in his youth; impossible these days. Read quotes, fall in love and submerge yourself in that author. . . .If only I had the time and life left to do so!

If I am creative it is because various venues have given me joy, more so writing than any other for I runaway from myself, the bag water of carrying me from pillar to post through the ordinary days of my life. 

& if you had any idea of exactly how precious water is there'd be no more fracking allowed. 

I am very grateful for spell checkers in word processors and Jarte is, I believe superior in that it introduced me to Word Web Pro and in many other ways as well. That said I write with difficulty not familiar with grammar, punctuation, spelling and a host of other issues I am aware of. 

You should be aware I've been a bad boy/man in many ways. Carol was my lover, pregnant, abortion; end of story so far as the relationship went. She once said to me; "don't ever change." And that became the preface of our end -- another rend in my heart. 

To create anything, other than yourself, is often a thankless act. Like flinging you heart into a dark well, no splash-no ripples-no sound. Yet oddly the ecstasy is worth it, at least for me it is, since it expands daily drawing me beyond my flaws into conspiracy with something much better than me or  could i ever be. 

Headlines and captions were my first awareness of punch. What captured the readers fleeting attention. Then came my photography column -- thanks again Carol who also got me a gig teaching at the University of Rhode Island Photojournalism for which I had no degree qualifications. I loved doing it, loving the kids and adults who came my way. No lecturer. I would seize upon a 'live-one' and use their work to draw the rest of the class into conspiracies with their vision/version of the world; seeing what they were looking at unique to them.

Now I am aware of Twitter and the nature of short; coupled with Opera's reflex posting of whatever I write to Twitter. So the first sentence is a harpoon drawing you in. Or. At least a brief exposition of what I intended in the first place. Usually lost in discursion and follow-on thoughts. Everything above this is preamble to my gratitude for those who praise or flame me in words. . . . too rare by half. 

Those long lost, long ago days, when the editors received a letter the formula was for one letter there were 1,000 who thought about it and more who would if the could; considering themselves inadequate.

"GI rapes girl in Formosa!" Then what? He gets off end of story. Nothing is said of the family, the community. Raped and abused by slander I am sensitive to the issue and not surprised at those who instead of protest in words, votes or through the chain of command, simply go berserk. Running amok mechanically puncturing with firearms anyone in the crowd. It's whose fault?

I am a journalist, first and last, and think myself a temple whore in the corp of servants -- The Temple of Truth. In the olden days to be a prostitute was noble.

Forget your gender inhabit your virgin soul. Being well; maybe becoming better. To be whole is a process not a goal. . . . or merely an unfolding; or blossoming. Water lilies grow from the nutriment of decay.

120905 20:44 dysfunctional 
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

Life simple becomes more so when stepping up to the crematoria one of the 6 or 60 million slain to be real soon gone, scraped of the sole of God's shoe; the world's a curb as in curb your dog?

Generally I don't eat much meat of any kind and still wonder how or why I was flushed with gallons of antibiotics at the Hog and Pony Show carnival of hospitals for Profit. Can't be or espouse too much Snarky here since I'm part of the solution or problem either side of the bed you wannabe. Experientially it was more being lofted on a grease rack instead of hot air infused with confusion silently dripping drop by centimeter thinking of the woman CEO of United Health Care Insurance receiving $103,000,000 annually for what her gated community and $15,000 @ night delightful vacations away by far from the peons or pee-ons. What ever floats her boat doesn't float mine. 

. . . is that too assertive or aggressive for the weak out there?
. . . i've curbed my rage it become quite docile now
. . . beware the anger of a quiet man whose son was destroyed by the medical community
. . . & daughter left in custodial care like China

Yes life is fast in the slow lane old farts home. 
I engage people randomly my surveys windup here. The pharmacy front was shambles boxes all over the floor. "Inventory - out-of-date?" 

'No. New shipment have to make room for them.'

"Oh well it beats the tar out of being unemployed."

'Yeah a lot of old folks walk the isles taking inventory though just to have something to do.'

Me thinks: "instead of waiting to die so the two Parties can say something like "Welfare Queen" or "Who needs Old Folks anyway?" Problem is; "who needs the young, the ones with rings in their noses or brown skin, forget the black they're useless to begin with, forget the Native Americans they're all drunks!"

Spoiled Brat, noun? Won't give up anything, sits on the toilet stuffed with money and won't let go profligate lobbying though free with stolen money to curb reforms or purposed regulations. Is that hypocritical of me to criticize? 

My pet dragon laves me nose & toes panting in praise no longer willing to destroy my former childhood school chums. Too late for me my mind will drool out my posterior first dementia then Alzheimer's for me hand grenades cost more than gasoline and I won't embarrass the Supreme Court by self-immolation on Their Front Steps. G. W. Bush wasn't elected he was a shoe in.

http://www.npr.org/2012/09/04/160541977/mickey-edwards-on-democracys-cancer

120905 12:44 life simple
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

"Yet, taught by time, my heart has learned to glow for other's good, and melt at other's woe." --Homer

In prayer i whisper 'thanks' for those who pass in my presence, or those who remain for another day. I now their suicidal ideations life long everyday . . . helpless i don't ask why since I too have similar thoughts and i do converse with god who speaks not to me save through the agency of those i see daily, monthly, annually or not at all. I must be mentally ill in the lexicon of politicians and their minions the prostitute psychology. 

I am not professional in the sense of having credentials to tell or sell you anything what I do I do for love and you know love by what you're dying for daily -- a job? St. Francis once said of love perfect is to cross the rainy winter night and be denied access to what he called home the door locked. A burr? Yes! I chewed on that for ever in the rock polisher behind my mouth.

God is better seen in the poor than those who merely talk about or pretend to be "him?" dare i say spurious? I called Fr. Denis last night asking what did you mean or imply, "a double negative is ___." He is vastly better conversant in theology and I use and abuse him sparingly since he is like M silent. 

. . . I was in the back of the shop fixing a rental clarinet mind blank with ecstasy focused. Dad said,"I'm good, I'll eat up the street." Someone had asked him to lunch and I lay upon the floor laughing seeing him eat concrete and asphalt. 

Denis is dense. Rich. Generally silent. To me fabulous. What he had said he said was "A double negative is a positive." but what I heard when he said was refracted in my perception was . . . loose transliteration something I do all the time being spiritually dyslexic; 'I was slandered indubitably.'

http://www.yourdictionary.com/double-negative

I met some friends of Susan's brother, or brothers, who took me in for a bath and dinner off the Inter Coastal Waterway, Susan and kids were absent -- more-or-less permanently. The guy was off the schooner Ishmael. They gave me a joint, smoked, then discovered myself crawling beneath a gigantic round oak table over the multiple paw foot legs . . . crying hysterically muttering 'why do I have to be crucified over and over?'

. . . like the many myths, omens, portents, dreams, runes and ruins of my heart; I've often wondered about that &/or my dreams of or about Jesus. 

. . . the tears gliding behind my eye glasses is about all i have left of my awe and fear of anything or envy . . . It's all about you . . . don't see what I see -- see what you see.

120905 05:35 psalm of thanks
© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved

It's all about you
what you see when you look at anything
Perception is fickle and unless you close your eyes and look inwards
the world will tell you anything to get your attention. And for me I see inside
you looking not at me but television. I seek not your attention to me but the sensation and noise of silence. An old man now I remember blackboards and white chalk of Dover both seen now in reprise. Diagrams drawn on the blackness of memory emerging in time remembered everything changes and everything is an illusion calling God will provoke/invoke a response yet the God's of television are jokes. The news medium itself once a temple of truth for me not so much in what I read there but their sending me out to collect images to flag their stories and when I said such-and-such they ignored me since my images were merely flags to grab your attention. And now I seldom seek the wisdom of others in quotes since I'm being fed inspiration from just plain folks. Suicide ideation is more common than not and you'd be surprised who thinks about it daily besides me. Yesterday a visiting nurse came to check-me-out explaining that Medicare keeps records of what every doctor says of me then requesting some validation of a remark said in retrospect; "Today is a good day to die." 

"You know I'm going to have to report this?"

"I don't care."

I'd looked into my lover's green emerald eyes and the Sphinx spoke silently locking into place our reality. Metaphorically I heard the tumblers clicking as truth opened. The portal of eternity is at your next breath. 

As is ours. 

WE, She, U & i have control of the volume of violence allowed flowing  into the stillness of self thus our health by any description is 90% our choice to either listen to the singing silence within or attend the volume of violence spent to entertain us. Persuading us to consume indifferently the presumed authority of those who would rule us just for the pleasure of acclaim offering nothing but lies and palliatives to achieve their fame.

The rest, 10%, is just physics and biology; not punishment. The trip is worth the price. Or is it when considering at birth we're given a tour guide at the very bottom in very small print; 'in accepting this trip you must die' and today or right now is okay with me since I know my lover knows I love her and will find her anywhere we go far or near light years apart. 

Next time you pass a mirror think about the last time you looked through plate glass seeing inside all your hunger pressed against the glass.

Step forward entering you desire for joy knowing death will never end it.

oh yes--It was Crazy Horse who said it, "Today is a good day to die" He wasn't crazy it was his horse; his ride. 

120905 03:56 you

if we are as we are what we consume as advertised lies let us eat bankers for lunch politicians for brunch Supreme Court Justice? Thomas as indicated by Anita Hill he's just dog meat let us start one by one eating them who have canalized us for centuries better yet don't eat them feed them to the pigs swine dressed in the gore of children not theirs sent to war returned addled be well do no harm

120905 1130 pink sliced lunch meat

© 2012 by Jack Spratt - All Rights Reserved