Tuesday, April 29, 2003

Here's a couple of doozies for the day:

Rocket Fuel
in Your Salad?
Lettuce Samples Found Tainted
--------------------
Conclusions on perchlorate are elusive, but environmental group calls for
action. (April 28 2003 LA Times Online)

A laboratory test of 22 types of lettuce purchased at Northern California
supermarkets found that four were contaminated with perchlorate, a toxic
rocket-fuel ingredient that has polluted the Colorado River, the source of
the water used to grow most of the nation's winter vegetables.

The complete article can be viewed at:
Visit Latimes.com

Or this bit of news from the Guinea Pig Department:

What a brilliant concept!
...Hit up all the kids at once with some nasty old vaccine
they need to get rid of, before it "expires"-- practicing
a new fun game --"Disease Police Emergency Procedures"
while creating a "real health emergency" --
and -- Such Great Timing!
---just three weeks before finals and
graduation!--
and then we will wonder why test scores are low,
absenteeism is high, everyone is sick and demoralized--
Gee -- It must be the Teachers' fault!


CIBOLA STUDENTS TO GET VACCINES
- April 29 - Albuquerque Journal

Albuquerque students will take part in a
mass vaccination Wednesday at Cibola
High School.

Around 800 students from the high scholl and
corresponding middle schools will be offered
vaccination boosters for tetanus and diphtheria
from 8:30 am to 4:30 pm according to the New
Mexico Department of Health....

Students will be managed as though they are
members of the public affected by a large-scale
public health threat
....The model is designed
to handle large numbers of patients as would be
the case in event of a biological terror attack....

Beyond treating the students, public health workers
also will set up a mock press room and give mock
briefings as if it were a real health emergency.

---Which of course, it is!--

Sunday, April 27, 2003

XCVII

These days, one must fly—but where to?
without wings, without an airplane, fly—without a doubt:
the footsteps have passed on, to no avail;
they didn’t move the feet of the traveler along.

At every instant, one must fly—like
eagles, like houseflies, like days:
must conquer the rings of Saturn
and build new carillons there.

Shoes and pathways are no longer enough,
the earth is no use anymore to the wanderer:
the roots have already crossed through the night,

and you will appear on another planet,
stubbornly transient,
transformed in the end into poppies.

from 100 Love Sonnets Cien sonetos de amorby Pablo Neruda (1959)



...these are tulips in my backyard


XCVII
Hay que volar en este tiempo, a donde?
Sin alas, sin avion, volar sin duda:
ya los pasos pasaron sin remedio,
no elevaron los pies del pasajero.

Hay que volar a cada instante como
las aguilas, las moscas y los dias,
hay que vencer los ojos de Saturno
y establecer alli nuevas campanas.

Ya no bastan zapatos ni caminos,
ya no sirve la tierrra a los errantes,
ya cruzaron la noche las raices,

y tu aparaceras en otra estrella
determinadamente transitoria
convertida por fin en amapola.



This is a painting by Alice Woolf from the early 1940s

Saturday, April 26, 2003

Two Zen Stories (Zen Flesh, Zen Bones)

Real Prosperity
A rich man asked Sengai to write something for
the continued prosperity of his family so that
it might be treasured from generation to generation.

Sengai obtained a large sheet of paper and wrote:
“Father dies, son dies, grandson dies.”

The rich man became angry. “I asked you to write
something for the happiness of my family! Why
do you make such a joke as this?”

“No joke is intended,” explained Sengai. “If before
you yourself die your son should die, this would
grieve you greatly. If your grandson should pass
away before your son, both of you would be broken-
hearted. If your family, generation after generation,
passes away in the order I have named, it will be
the natural course of life. I call this real prosperity.”


The Stone Mind
Hogen, a Chinese Zen teacher, lived alone in a
small temple in the country. One day four traveling
monks appeared and asked if they might make a
fire in his yard to warm themselves.

While they were building the fire, Hogen heard
them arguing about subjectivity and objectivity.
He joined them and said: “There is a big stone.
Do you consider it to be inside or outside your
mind?”

One of the monks replied: “From the Buddist
viewpoint everything is an objectification of
mind, so I would say that the stone is inside my
mind.”

“Your head must feel very heavy,” observed
Hogen, “if you are carrying around a stone like
that in your mind.”

from 101 Zen Stories Zen Flesh, Zen Bones
compiled by Paul Reps (1939)

Weeds at my fence -- are they in my mind?

Thursday, April 24, 2003

Saddam, Saddam!

I noticed DEBKAfile-- today's news headlines--
You may remember Israeli intelligence reported
Saddam was in Syria hanging out on the beach-
Now here is the latest:

Saddam Hussein has escaped to Belarus – according to mounting evidence
reaching DEBKA-Net-Weekly’s intelligence sources.

On March 29, two chartered planes picked up Saddam, sons, families and
close aides at Baghdad international airport – as US forces fought their way
to Iraqi capital - and flew them to Minsk. On April 2, DEBKAfile’s War Diary
reported Saddam had departed Baghdad.



I couldn't help but burst into song --(to the tune of Rochelle, Rochelle!)

Saddam, Saddam!

Well, it’s been a long journey from
Baghdad to Minsk ...
Saddam, Saddam!

You’ve been shocked and awed plenty
Yet you’re in the Pinsk ...
Saddam, Saddam!

Let the naysayers nay,
And break your statue’s stone face,
They've plundered your palace
And bombed every space—

You’re having adventures
All over the plaaaaaace—
Saddam, Saddaaaaam!




Monday, April 21, 2003

Construct Your Own Virus

To construct the virus, the researchers say they followed a recipe they
downloaded from the internet and used gene sequences from a mail-order
supplier.
Having constructed the virus, which appears to be identical to its natural
counterpart, the researchers, from the University of New York at Stony
Brook, injected it into mice to demonstrate that it was active.
The animals were paralyzed and then died.


Better read the entire article!

Thanks to Elaine -- Health_and_Healing - PULSE ON WORLD HEALTH CONSPIRACIES! §
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Health_and_Healing



GOP pushing to protect makers of vaccines
SARS, the mysterious new respiratory ailment that has terrified people around the globe,
has extended its reach to the Capitol, where Senate Republicans are using the disease
to press their case that vaccine manufacturers should be shielded from lawsuits.
Led by Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist, Republicans are trying to revive the long-stalled
measure. On Tuesday, Frist linked his bill to severe acute respiratory syndrome, or SARS,
warning that pharmaceutical companies will not produce vaccines against the disease unless
they are protected against "frivolous suits" that could drive them out of business.

"If we need a vaccine for this potential global epidemic, are we prepared?" Frist asked during
a press conference to publicize the bill. "The answer is no, absolutely not."

Link

Angry Parents of Vaccine-Injured Kids Jam Frist's Fax Machines


Frist do us no Harm: Angry Parents of Vaccine-Injured,
Mercury-Poisoned Children Jam Fax Machines Before
Frist's Legislation Goes Back to Markup This Wednesday


Once Again, Frist Tries to Move Under the Veil of War
as Americans and Journalists are Distracted by Events
in Iraq--

Legislation May Leave Thousands of Families With
Nothing -- Parents and Advocacy Groups Vow to Continue
Grass Roots Campaign Until Family-Friendly Amendments
are in Place


If the legislation doesn't cover all families, parents
say their fight will continue regardless if the bill
passes. "The public will be made aware of what's
happening," says Lori McIlwain, mother of a
vaccine-injured child and part of the Right to Fight
Mercury Damage Campaign. "Senator Frist has an
opportunity to side with America's children. Let's
hope he takes it."

A just-published report in Medical Sentinel (see
www.factsformedia.com for full report) by Dr. Mark
Geier and David Geier analyzed mercury doses children
received from Thimerosal in childhood vaccines while
comparing it to Federal Safety Guidelines. The doctors
concluded mercury from Thimerosal did far exceed the
guidelines and that, "A causal relationship between
Thimerosal- containing childhood vaccines and
neurodevelopmental disorders appears to be confirmed."

Autistic symptoms, regression, and other health
problems, can be explained by mercury poisoning that
mirrors the medical and behavioral symptoms of autism.
Parents believe they have the scientific evidence to
prove their children were damaged by Thimerosal in
vaccines, yet they are currently prohibited to enter
into the NVICP and civil court system.

For more information about the autism-mercury
connection, visit www.factsformedia.com,
www.momsonamissionforautism.org, www.altcorp.com and
www.autismautoimmunityproject.com.


Saturday, April 19, 2003

BACK INTO HERSELF

A billion times God has turned man
Into Himself.

You stand in line for the
Highest gift
For His generosity cannot end.

But best to bring an instrument along
While waiting in the cold desert

And make some dulcet sounds
To accompany the palms’ swaying arms
That are casting silhouettes
Against the sky’s curtain
From our fire.

Remind the Friend of your desire
And great patience.

A billion times God has turned man
Back into Herself.

We all stand in line
For the highest
Gift.



written by Hafiz, the Great Sufi Master (c. 1320-1389),
translated by Daniel Ladinsky



Lost Treasures (from Slate.Com)

I haven't been blogging much lately, since Harley has been
here, and we have been preoccupied with his visit - which has
been a fine distraction -- a Wag the Dog
to our everyday routine.
He came here for healing and was open to all possibilities.
He left this morning, much improved in his energetic
picture -- he called to say he is past all the police barricades and
has safely returned to Our Nation's Capitol. I will write more about his
visit and the past week, but I haven't wanted to blog much about the
Lost Treasures of Baghdad -- the Mosul "incident",
or the DU doctor's fears of a Gulf War syndrome cover-up...it has been a struggle to
remain centered and grounded this week....with a reddish-orange
alert going off the fear-charts....

Harley left me a book to read and edit, which he'd like to re-publish --
it is called "The StoryTeller from the Red Earth" --

Anyway -- here's the poem he chose, that he said spoke to him...
now that Lolly has gone through the gateway.
It's called....

THE PARTY

This is a lovely party
We both bid farewell
I drink and you sleep
Only two can understand
I shall miss you my magic friend.


from poems written by Birago Ogotommeti - literally meaning the StoryTeller from
the Red Earth -- AKA Kenneth E. Moody.



Wednesday, April 16, 2003

I have been thinking about the fathers, and the sons.
I can scarcely allow myself to comprehend that this is a
generation that will know war, that will be living with its memories and the
consequences to the human spirit, and that will be dying
for old men's causes -- Empire, Oil and Dad?

And this generation is-- Our Children!
Children of the Flower Children, who wanted peace in our times.
When did Peace become a bad word - a threat -
an outdated concept? Where did joy and lightheartedness go?
What could possibly justify this?

So, here's a poem about fathers - by Grace Paley -

FATHERS

Fathers are
more fathering
these days they have
accomplished this by
being more mothering

what luck for them that
women’s lib happened then
the dream of new fathering
began to shine in the eyes
for free women and was irresistible

on the New York subways
and the main transits
of other cities one may
see fatherings of many colors
with their round babies on
their laps this may also
happen in the countryside

these scenes were brand-new
exciting for an old woman who
had watched the old fathers
gathering once again in
familiar Army camps and com-
fortable war rooms to consider
the necessary eradication of
the new fathering fathers
(who are their sons) as well
as the women and children who
will surely be in the way.

----Grace Paley



A little child shall lead them...Noah points the way....

Sunday, April 13, 2003

I can hardly believe this poem I found today -- it is so like my dream!

Small Aircraft

As if I didn’t have enough
Bothering me, now I’m confused
By dreaming nightly
Of small airplanes. I don’t understand it.

The planes don’t care that I dream of them:
Now like chickens they peck seed
From my hand. Now like termites
They live in the walls of my house.

Or else they poke me
With their dumb noses: little fish
Move like this to a child’s foot,
Tickling, making their feet laugh.

Sometimes they push and bump each other,
Around my fire, blinded by the light.
They won’t let me read and the noise
of their wings excites me.

They have another trick: they come
To me like children in tears
And sit in my lap,
Crying, Take us in your arms.

You can drive them away, but they’re right back,
Flying out of the polished darkness,
Looking from their eyes like sad dachshunds
As their long bodies float by.

by Bella Akhmadulina (1937--)
(born in Moscow, attended Gorky School of
Literature, later expelled. Married to poet Yevgeny
Yevtushenko

Saturday, April 12, 2003

Here's a couple more dreams - for what it's worth--

January 24
....then, last night a very vivid dream -- I was sitting on the roof of the little house, watching the spray-jets, and pointing to them...when suddenly one of them flew down like a bird and came right up to me. It was small, up close--like the size of a hawk or an eagle, with the rigid swept-back wings and a jet-hole mouth that opened and closed like a goldfish, staring at me, buzzing like a metal insect a few feet away from me in the air. It was very frightening, aggressive, and it reminded me of a dream I had years ago, when I was pregnant with Max (so, 1984)--I had a dream of small menacing aircraft buzzing my friend S. in Washington state. I was visiting her, and I asked her how she liked her home on the island, and she said she loved it, except for the planes. And there they were, miniature WWII-era bomber prop-planes, which were buzzing and swarming all around her. I actually saw her in Az. only a few weeks later and told her this dream, and she was stunned. She said that she had been meditating outside, in the mountains or on cliffs overlooking the sound, and little military surveillance aircraft were continually buzzing all around her, disturbing her greatly. She felt that she was getting into some high altered states, and wondered if she were emitting some kind of frequency that attracted them...she was really paranoid about it. I know I am paranoid about airplanes, it does seem as though they paint an X over my house every day, just about...but this little bug-plane with the goldfish mouth was so clear and immediately familiar to me. I only write these down because I haven't remembered my dreams clearly in a long time....


">

March 27
I was staying at an apartment in center city Phila., for some forgotten reason,
with a baby in a stroller (unknown child) and wandering through the rooms,
I found the bed soaking wet from a leaky roof. I went outside on the balcony,
to see where the water was coming from, and looked across the city, over
Independence Hall (where the Liberty Bell is) and I could see a two huge black
clouds coming toward us, boiling and angry, with flashing orange and red centers
in them, reminiscent of the radar maps, only these were cloud-towers the size of
mountains. As they thundered closer to us, people were gathering on the roof-top.
Then the clouds surrounded us, and opened up--and out of them came men in orange
jumpsuits. They began grabbing at people and pulling them into the clouds. I ran away,
pushing the stroller, looking for the baby, who then fell off the roof as I watched, landing
in the street below, bouncing and laughing...

Friday, April 11, 2003

It has been almost three years since I dreamed that the world exploded.
I heard it -- the explosion -- that seemed to emanate from Los Alamos -
here is my description of the "dream" 5/01/00 --

I was out cold at about 1 am ( so, midnight local time, accounting for DST) when I woke up suddenly, with the sensation of shaking and rolling like thunder, booming in my ears and the sense that it was an earth quake from the sky--house seemed to be shaking as if from above, like a sky-quake! I sleep in a second-story bedroom. It was very intense for about a second, I was so sure it was a huge explosion somewhere, like Los Alamos or something maybe a couple hundred miles away. I held my breath and silently screamed "I love you" to my husband, I was sure that this was the end, I am not kidding. After it was over, I was wide awake, my husband had not moved, I listened for sirens and it was totally silent. I checked the time, and my dog came over to my bed, put his head on the edge and whined. I knew he felt it too. He is so afraid of thunder, the big baby. I looked outside, skies pinkish-white stripes, but no sign of a thunderstorm. Wondering if I was dreaming, but I KNEW I could still feel that impact in my body, not like anything I have ever felt. A few weeks ago I was awakened by a high-pitched shrill sound, but it stopped after a brief interval, as soon as I was fully awake. This was like I experienced a bomb dropping, it was so strong....

The strange thing was - 7 days later - a huge inferno was engulfing Los Alamos, and the fire burned thousands of acres
in the Jemez Mountains. The cause of the fire was a "controlled burn" which was set - lit on purpose - near the Valles
Caldera - in the early morning of May 1, 2000. I believe I heard it happening - on the etheric plane, or something - it was
like the sound of all the animals and birds, leaving, and the huge sense of a vacuum that was created there as that happened.

Thursday, April 10, 2003

The New Yorker came in the mail, here, to
New Mexico - with a fat advertising section about
The Land of Enchantment : quite a spiffy spread,
paid for by our tax dollars, to attract New Yorkers looking
for an escape from --you guessed it -- New York.

Anyway, I didn't see that until later - I turned to the first
poem immediately and was stunned. This is an intense
description of "inside the clear-out" - Whew!

And, yes - Robert says it is his "island chiropractor" dream,
come true. Where can we go? Where can we go? Inside or
outside?

Here it is -- I love it...except I say ---Cry, go on now, cry.

AWAKE AND DREAMING

Don't cry. You're inside
the island chiropractor's dream.
Let the muscles go, the heart,
the pulsing brain,
the mesmerism of the animal terrain.
No knowing, where we're going.
Send me some intelligence.
Be the sleeper in the field.

--Dana Goodyear

If you are interested in healing, check out this link
...or this one - innateintelligence.com



The Blue Rose I found while blogging around; it's not my photo
but I hope it's Creator, whoever, doesn't mind my using it here.
It is perfect.

Tuesday, April 08, 2003

The Propaganda Remix Project

Go see the posters at Micah Wright's amazing site! Here's just one sample:
Lord Bless This Defender of Freedom Figurine
No matter where his mission takes him, he'll never be beyond the reach of God's protection. As the brave members of the U.S. military head out to defend our freedom, it's comforting to know that each one is sheltered in the loving hands of God. Keep this radiant tribute near as a brilliant reminder of all those who proudly serve our country. Meticulously crafted by hand, this limited-edition Hamilton Collection collectible figurine is filled with authentic details. Please hurry to order now.

Quotable quote from our President, George W. Bush:
"We will export death and violence to the four corners of the Earth in defense of our great nation."

See: "Bush's War Strategy"

Dull Television
Who would have thought it? American cable television can actually make
live coverage of a real war dull. The networks are talking it to death,
not to mention censoring it right and left.....(snip)

Our young president, to use one of his daddy's favorite phrases, has
gotten himself into deep doo-doo, the camel variety. Enjoy the military
phase of this war, because after we've "won," our troubles will really start.

It's a very bad omen that the 2lst century is starting just like the 20th,
with an American imperialist war and, perhaps, a pandemic of lethal flu.
Repeating history is worse than watching cable news.

from Charlie Reese



...And now for a change of pace ---


"The War" (1859)
by Alfred Lord Tennyson


Here is a sound of thunder afar,
Storm in the South that darkens the day,
Storm of battle and thunder of war.
Well if it do not roll our way.
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Be not deaf to the sound that warns,
Be not guil'd by a despot's plea!
Are figs of thistles, or grapes of thorns?
How should a despot set men free?
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Let your Reforms for a moment go,
Look to your butts and take good aims.
Better a rotten borough or so,
Then a rotten fleet or a city of flames!
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

Form, be ready to do or die!
Form in Freedom's name and the Queen's!
True, that we have a faithful ally,
But only the Devil knows what he means.
Form! form! Riflemen form!
Ready, be ready to meet the storm!
Riflemen, riflemen, riflemen form!

from Poetry Daily--
Tennyson's "The War," published in the *London
Times*, on May 9, 1859, while England was watching, aghast, the
Second Italian War of Independence. That enterprise culminated in the
slaughter at the Battle of Solferino with over 25,000 Austrian and
Franco-Piedmontese killed or wounded. The battle also led to the
movement to found the International Red Cross.

Tennyson's drumbeat occasional poem, except for a couple of
unfortunate lines (but Donald Hall has maintained that every fine
poem must contain in it some dreadful flaw) is a rousing huzzah
of sound and sentiment. It is utterly different from the anti-war
occasional free verse most dominant in our times. It reminds us that
all poets do not speak in unity, even with themselves, and have been
perpetually and variously torn asunder by their love of freedom, their
hatred of despots, their respect for sacrifice and honor, their
acknowledgement of "necessary evil," their despair in the face of war,
their hatred of war, their praise of even momentary glory.

No one, Right or Left, Conservative or Liberal, should ever take
poets' voices for granted.

*Dick Allen comments:

Monday, April 07, 2003

War

Our dead do not demand it of us
nor do our yet unborn, this war.
They have their own concerns.
There is no science or sacrifice
can bring them back
or make them sooner come.

No alchemy can sanctify,
make oil more sacred than
their blood or ours,
not hold the profits of a few
more urgent than the lives of all.

No magick that can right old wrongs
nor put aside the price
that war demands.

No rhetoric nor demagoguery
however much repeated,
shouted loud,
will turn a false cause true.

Sand will not bloom,
water spent not flow again
from precious springs
this war will cause to cease.

Earth, stars and sun
hold our lives and theirs,
their dead and ours,
our not yet born and theirs
all in the same esteem,

find no difference
between them and us.

(by Dale Harris)

Poets Against the War --
The Bush administration's barrage of bombs and bullets in Iraq is mirrored by its barrage of misinformation and doublespeak, a language the media too willingly repeats. An assassination attempt is termed a "target of opportunity"; murder of civilians is "collateral damage"; invasion is "liberation."

Now more than ever, the world needs to hear the voices of poets. Poets Against the War is calling for May 1, 2003, to be an International Day of Poetry Against the War. ----more at link>
Now that protestors are being mowed down with rubber bullets, I recall the reports on a peace demonstration in
Boston a few weeks ago - which was allowed to remain
peaceful. Women held signs which read - My Son Is A Marine--
Support the Troops -- Bring Them Home!




This is a sensible response to the overwhelming
hypnotic of war-vision and the mind-numbing effects
of the continual barrage. I have a son-in-law who is
over there, flying above it all, in the middle of the rising
conflict, and of course I have mixed feelings...
I want to support the troops - by BRINGING
THEM HOME! As soon as possible! NOW!


************
Your TV Is Lying To You
There's some strife being created among friends
and family over this war stuff. I hear about quite
a bit of it because things have gone much farther
now. It was one thing to steal the election with
some very shady stuff with the Supreme Court.
To me that is unforgivable and must be corrected
before we can continue our proper historical
course as the land of the free. But now the junta
has extended its racketeer-style activity to a
global level, and to an even greater degree of
criminality, with its murder of civilians as collateral
damage of its conquest of the oil rich territory.

I am convinced that the only Americans who
support this barbarous carnage in Iraq are
people who believe their TVs. The single most
important point to get across to those innocent
souls who believe in this war is this:
Your TV is lying to you.

Your TV is the communications arm of a cluster
of huge corporations who make even easier
money off of defense expenditures than they
do off their mass hypnosis of the public for the
purposes of the corporate oligarchy that owns
them. They have an agenda, and it is not to keep
you informed. It is to hide from you their criminal
activity.

I recently got an e-mail from a friend who described
some family turmoil arising from opposite positions
on the invasion of Iraq. As I answered her e-mail,
a couple of things became clear to me, pasted
below:

I'm sorry for the turmoil this political stuff is
causing in your life. I do believe this is exactly
what is happening almost everywhere. Politics
is no longer "out there". It's banging down
everyone's door.

I have the same kinds of political differences with
family members whom I love like flesh and blood.
And I am convinced that it is a difference of our
understanding of what is happening rather than
a difference in principle. And it comes down to
the TV. If people get their information from the TV,
then they totally believe in this war because it is
a defense against the people who bombed the
World Trade Center and it's a replay of World
War II with Saddam as Hitler.

It's a total fantasy, but if they watch TV and
believe it, that is their view of the world.

So the one principle we need to try to get across
to our loved ones and other good people who
believe in this war and in this administration is this:
Your TV is lying to you. Once they see correctly
that the TV is the communications arm of a
corporate oligarchy that is actively engaged in
a plan for world domination -- a plan, by the way,
which must be stopped or it will kill all of us, and
already has apparently killed a lot of our spirit.

To think that we can watch as our government
bombs families in another country and just let it
happen is proof enough that we have been
dehumanized, deadened in our emotional reaction
to our world. This is the measure of "the triumph
of the propaganda system", as Chomsky called it.
That they can subdue the population of a supposed
democracy, supposedly a civilized country, shows
how effectively the whole brainwashing effort has
worked.

I was very impressed recently with some recordings
I heard of songs and interviews with Ola Belle Reed,
the bluegrass-mountain music singer-songwriter
of the '50s and '60s, who had a great political
sophistication and class consciousness. Regarding
this problem of trying to help good people understand
how they are being manipulated with lies, you can't
cram it down people's throats, you've got to do it
with love. The point is, most of these good people
would not feel the way they do if they weren't
believing the lies of the American mass media.

So my friendly challenge to people of good will
would be: "Turn off your TV." Give yourself a break
from the battering of war propaganda. Then start
reading a broad sampling of world media, depending
on what you can get hold of. Anyone with Internet
access can get to some of these headline link sites
like Buzzflash.com or Bushwatch.com and get a
great selection of news stories and editorials from
around the world, but with a countercorporate spin.

Today walking into CVS I see a row of newspapers
with massive color photos of GI Joes outfitted with
frightening looking weapons, looking like the most
refined killing machines every created out of human
flesh. They are in Baghdad, the headlines pound.
Iraqis are fleeing the city, God bless them. And what,
this is supposed to make me happy? Proud to be
an American? (a countermedia presentation from
HeadBlast.com)
Today's news bits:

From impeach-bush-now.org:
Former KGB General has been hired as a consultant by the US Department of Homeland Security!

Liberate America Next!
This article by Roger Fredinburg on newswithviews.com
makes a good point - Liberate us Next! - - We are ruled by fear as well...

Hello!?!
UN Fears U.S. Bomblets Resemble Food Packets
Duh! what the hell were you thinking?! I distinctly remember this EXACT same thing happening during desert storm & in Afghanistan! You guys haven't learned from past mistakes? WAKE UP!

idiots.

from Lava

And...A voice for change -- These organizations are working for peace and justice--
changing hearts and minds...Go there....LINK

Sunday, April 06, 2003

This seems kind of long - only a few minutes, I think - but it
has wonderful nature photographs and it takes you through
a calming, opening process....Even Now
....especially Now. So take a deep breath and go there....
My birthday - April 5 - is a double-day, because
I also gave birth to Max, here in this house, 19 years ago...

Max and I celebrated our mutual b-days over a huge boat-load
of beautiful sushi last night, with Robert, Michele, Sion and Danielle,
Iris and Marc--and also said our farewells to Ann, who is moving to
the Gulf coast of Florida. Ann has been a best-buddy since
1978 when we met in Llano Quemado, in Taos. We've been
through many years of laughter and tears, and Ann could always
make us laugh until we cried.


On that subject - This is the message for my birthday,
April 5, which I read every year in Open Mind...
It seems more appropriate this year than ever before....


Shechinah, I pray that Your spirit may pervade
those whose tears will not flow; that they may
experience the release of feeling that connects
us to each other, to the tradition of our ancestors,
to our progeny and to all humanity.
For the blessing of tears,
I thank God that I was born a woman.

--from The Women's Hagaddah



The Haggadah is the special text used for Passover that
includes the story of the Exodus. This prayer is one of
thanksgiving for women's ability to feel and to connect.
We pray that all people may feel this connection, and
know the oneness of all life.

Women's wisdom is the wisdom of connection, but the tears
that can easily flow from our eyes have been used against
us as proof that we are overly emotional, irrational, and
unrealistic. Yet it is this knowledge of connectedness
that is lacking in today's world. When our tears can freely
flow, when we can feel compassion for another's pain, abuse
will stop. As long as we feel separate and disconnected, we can
deny other people's humanity, cause harm to one another and
to the Earth.

The dharma, the law of interconnectedness and love, has the power
to break open the heart. Women have often come to me in tears
after hearing a dharma talk. I once thanked a woman for her tears.
She was quite surprised, never having thought of her tears as a gift.
She deeply received the thanks, and in so doing her heart opened
wider and she felt great joy.


Noah enjoyed his first birthday cake 10/14/02

Friday, April 04, 2003

Disinfecting the Germ Theory


Watching television, you’d think we lived at bay, in total jeopardy,
surrounded on all sides by human-seeking germs, shielded against
infection and death only by a chemical technology which enables us
to keep killing them off. We are instructed to spray disinfectants
everywhere, into the air of our bedrooms and kitchens and with
special energy into bathrooms, since it is our very own germs that
seem the worst kind. We explode clouds of aerosol, mixed for good
luck with deodorants, into our noses, mouths, underarms, privileged
crannies—even into the intimate insides of our telephones. We apply
potent antibiotics to minor scratches and seal them with plastic.

Plastic is the new protector; we wrap the already plastic tumblers of
hotels in more plastic, and seal the toilet seats like state secrets after
irradiating them with ultraviolet light. We live in a world where the
microbes are always trying to get at us, to tear us from cell to cell, and
we only stay alive and whole through diligence and fear.

We still think of human disease as the work of an organized, modernized
kind of demonology, in which bacteria are the most visible and centrally
placed of our adversaries. We assume that they must somehow relish what
they do. They come after us for profit, and there are so many of them that
disease seems inevitable, a natural part of the human condition; if we
succeed in eliminating one kind of disease, there will always be a new one
at hand, waiting to take its place.

These are paranoid delusions on a societal scale, explainable in part by
our need for enemies, and in part by our memory of what things used
to be like.

In real life, however, even in our worst circumstances we have always
been a relatively minor interest of the vast microbial world. Pathogenicity
is not the rule. Indeed, it occurs so infrequently and involves such a
relatively small number of species, considering the huge population
of bacteria on the earth, that it has a freakish aspect. Disease usually
results from inconclusive negotiations for symbiosis, an overstepping
of the line by one side or the other, a biologic misinterpretation of
borders.

From – Lives Of A Cell: Notes of a Biology Watcher(1974) by Lewis Thomas, M.D.

(This was taken from a publication Robert and I produced at
Sherman College of Straight Chiropractic, in 1978 - called
The Force ---and how true it still is - today! The
microbial world is teeming with possibility - only the
resistance of the host (ie. our own Innate Intelligence and
immunity) is paramount....
For more on the global fear-trip, SARS (Sickening And Repulsive Scam)
please see articles posted at chickenlil.org


In the ruins, all that's left is death and fear


There is no respite in shattered Baghdad, writes Paul McGeough, who searches for remnants of normality - but finds only grief, anguish and dread.

I wanted to write about the last pockets of tranquillity in a besieged city.
..............continued at the website........

See also this blog - Another Day in the Empire for daily war-blogging --
which I would like to do less of, myself, though it is hard not to channel the sadness and the pain of the world.
We try to remember - The end is present in the beginning - and so what is, is. How can our hearts be opened,
how can we be pierced by compassion, and not be afraid?

Thursday, April 03, 2003

Lights Out in Baghdad

This is a different view of the war, from an Israeli
site - DEBKAfile
Political Analysis - Espionage - Terrorism - Security

From today's news:
DEBKAfile’s Exclusive Middle East sources have
tracked down top Iraqi leadership’s bolt-hole:

Baghdad pre-paid and chartered entire Hotel Cote d’Azur
De Cham Resort at Syrian Mediterranean port of Latakiya
near Assad family villa. Group may include Saddam Hussein
or his sons, but this is not confirmed.

Top Iraqi officials hiding there since March 23, four days after
coalition invaded Iraq, guarded by Syrian commando unit armed
with anti-air missiles and Syrian naval missile boats securing port....

Here's a poem from Hafiz (c. 1320-1389)
-- most beloved poet of Persia - from translation
by Daniel Ladinsky - I Heard God Laughing

It is my understanding that Hafiz spoke or sang his
poems spontaneously, and his companions wrote
the verses down later. ...May these poems inspire us
to give the great gift of kindness--to ourselves and
to others.

Cast All Your Votes For Dancing

I know the voice of depression
Still calls to you.

I know those habits that can ruin your life
Still send their invitations.

But you are with the Friend now
And look so much stronger.

You can stay that way
And even bloom!

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From your prayers and work and music
And from your companions’ beautiful laughter.

Keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From the sacred hands and glance of your Beloved
And, my dear,
From the most insignificant movements
Of your own holy body.

Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins
That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,
But then drag you for days
Like a broken man
Behind a farting camel.


I took this photograph in 1971, Shutesbury, Massachusetts

Wednesday, April 02, 2003

What changes? (will we ever learn)

War (Guerre) Guillaume Apollinaire (1917)

The central combat sector
Contact by listening post
Or shoot in the direction of "audible noises"
The young men in the class of 1915
And these electrified wires
Yet don't cry about these horrors of war
Before it we only had the surface
Of the earth and the sea
After it we shall have the depths
The underground and free space overhead
Men at the tiller
Afterwards afterwards
We shall have all the joys
Of conquerors who rest
Women Games Factories Commerce
Industry Agriculture Iron
Fire Crystal Speed
Voice Light Touch separately
And together in the touch of distant things
Of far greater distances
Beyond this earth even

(translated from the French by Roger Shattuck 1971)
The war will be over soon,
It will be over soon, I tell myself,
I tell my daughter. I would tell my
grandson, but what can he know
about war? Why should we ever
tell him? There are too many tears,
sorrow enough in this world
he need not know about.

There are tulips in my garden,
growing with a vengeance,
against war.


Tuesday, April 01, 2003

I have two words for you: Asia Grace

This book of about 600 images is a fantastic collection, chosen from over
40,000 photographs taken by Kevin Kelly on his travels throughout the Asian
continent from the 60s to the 90s.

Many of the images document a world that no longer exists.
The beauty of the landscape, the people and the culture is breathtaking.
I spent hours looking at the photos, which can be viewed in a slide show,
or as individual photographs with accompanying text that is very informative.

I found these pictures to be remarkable, if only that our culture does not
understand this world - and our mistrust of anything foreign is deeply rooted.
One cannot look at these photographs without feeling a strong connection
and deep love for the wonders of this planet and people, and a compassion
for the other side of the world.

Please read the production notes on the website which tells of the photographer's journey and how he made this spectacular book.


The steppes near Konduz, Afghanistan
Ana said that she was crying, and Noah wanted to comfort her.
He brought her his blanket, and held it to her cheek so she
could feel how soft it was.
He brought her a pacifier, and held it to her lips to console her.

And so, Jody is gone - he is over there now and will be our
"eye in the sky" - and tonight Ana showed Noah a photograph
of Jody, and said "Daddy loves you, Daddy wants to give you a kiss."
She came upon him later, holding the picture up and kissing it,
with his eyes closed. He is only 17 months old, but he seems to
understand the important things.



This photo of Ariana and Noah was taken last January, when he was 3 months old,
by Kim Donald (Kyle Zimmerman Photography) It hung in the
window on Central Avenue for several months in 2002.
Deciphering Cancer's Cellular Riddle
Biophysicist who cured himself
is now helping others to heal

Copyright© 2002 by Teresa Tsalaky

David Walker wanted to live long enough to see his children graduate from high school. He asked his oncologist if he'd make it that long. The doctor hung his head and said Walker had no more than three to five years before the colon cancer would take his life.

Nearly a decade later, Walker is cancer free. Thanks to his training as a biophysicist, he was able to decipher a biochemical riddle that enabled him to cure himself. He created a treatment protocol that consists of herbs, enzymes, phytonutrients, detoxification and a bio-resonance therapy that recharges depleted energy in cells. He then shared his knowledge, helping hundreds of other cancer patients eliminate the disease.

In 2001, the Federal Trade Commission and Washington State attorney general sued to stop him. A government investigator reviewed Walker's records and reported that 14 percent of the people using his protocol had died. The report did not include the mortality rate over the same period of time for cancer patients who undergo the approved cancer therapies: radiation and chemotherapy. That rate is 96 percent.

When the court case ended in 2002, Walker had become one of thousands of individuals and companies whose effective, alternative treatments have been stifled. >>>>more at Link

Check out this website -- lots of great stuff at www.sumeria.net