#2
(9/3/01) small words

"Thanks, etheric exhale: (the rest's a footnote)

"Courage is also required not only to source bravery, nobility in the presence of peril, his campaigns of 'Yang", but enjoys an unsuspected interior dimension also, and so like the autumn-foliage pigments which hide, through the soft-swoon dreamtime of June, July and August behind the bathe of chlorophyll, lurk backstage for the onset of cold, wait to come centerstage in the season of the Day of Atonement, to spend their brief, bright fire announcing in orange and indigo flames that the leaves have turned to glowing tears, and weep, and downward bless, and silently announce the loss of summer, we acknowledge, joy hastens to acknowledge, that when courage kneels, she authors simplicity.

"Which is why one suspects that shepherds and peasants are both welcome in Bethlehem, and how the unschooled may rival the Magi and the hosts of the non-instinctually credentialled, and why the real Shroud of Turin, seeming only a rag, yet is endowed with capacity to reveal what designer clothes and other language often obscure.

"Those who wish to spice and celebrate, or at least foreshadow the martyrdom of the summer, and the crystallization of rhapsody into inner spark to greet the coming season of bladed snow, can 'visit' Earlyfires poem Mozart at the University for Imagination -at www.mythologics.org/mozart.html

"Thanks, xxxx, for renting Adriane's lifeline to rescue us from the labyrinth. Abstraction, a double-agent, one suspects sometimes is another name for boast, and his mayhemmed traffic robs us of silence."


#3
(9/11/01) Autumn/Michaelmus

"For Earlyfire, mood ever upstages all memory of events. And Michaelmas then becomes a time of reflection, of consenting to let go of the spree of the summer, and the pastel float of its siren-song, and to bring her euphoria and fan of perfume, and all sweet fenceless expanse that let us reach to the meadows of every distant star at will in the long season of floorless song, and kiss and at last, to welcome it back to unwinged, places, politely handcuffed to more anchored beauty, and gone our drunkard's major chords, lost forever in the mists of Mists of Avalon.

"Let the introspection be medicine, always restoring the quiet, and de-spicing the warm and buoyant revels, guide us one and all back south of the sky, to the Place of Kneeling. This is what the leaves announce, that by catching fire, and descending pungeant to the air's seabottom, loud in braided harvest hues of peach and orange and cherry, sing before the Angel of Death, all this to remind us of how love comes to tell the last tale whenever the pages of magic, losing their ink,turn white as the coming snow.

"And chill is blessing, for the Day of Atonement, the Day of Hollows and plainsong is at hand, when the dragon and the flames of the dragon within is exiled to clay climates, and made flightless and sober, must drink wine of iron, reckon gravity his friend, and so anchored, made devout, holy by winter, light his own torch and learn to stand again..........

"It is the season when we learn the secret of how to respond to being orphaned, and encounter the opportunity to invite the development of the power of detachment which camphor cools the raging of wild campaigns, of all that's fair in love and war.  And thus what seems, slows, no longer glows and now descends from dreams, and what once round us wove famous parades, now de-charades, and suddenly becomes robust to our touch. And so it comes to pass we discover touch is another word for Thanks."


#4
(9/12/01) Cold and Uncaring

"Often the manifestations of Justice make for intolerable assaults against Mercy, and by way of seeking to comprehend such mysterious competition, require, more gently, suggest, better, softly invite, that an event as punctuating,, as irrevocable in human history as we have seen yesterday, must be seen to serve what can be focused through different lenses. The Heart speaks first: There is no way to dissolve or in any way distancing, to exclude ourselves from participating in the personal tragedy which befell those individuals who suffered real loss. So we too, who witnessed yesterday's terrorism, no longer bystanders, are also compelled to endure the psychic rape at the destruction of the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. But suddenly a shift, now to transition from heart to thought, and dare raise a more graphic issue, even if the price of raising such a question is the revelation of knowledge from which one recoils:  "What is the linkage between what is undeserved by
individuals and that to which our entire way of life is violenced, which can be connected to matters of justice? Patience! One must wait around to confront this, better, to listen and receive, best, to embrace the answer, for to fly from it is to invite history to repeat itself. Thus ask: "How do the lives of individuals and the tale of buildings interesect?"

"The World Trade Center and the Pentagon are bricks and steel cemented with a mythology, strange to say "saturated" with group identity and momentum, one which like donning totem masks upon one's face, overlays the lives of the people who perished inside them with an irrevocable dimension of martyrdom of ideals and values we ourselves wear. For all those who lost their lives, unwilling volunteers in the death of buildings, who were asked to wear, to bear the clothing of the headquarters at the very center of the competitive, triumphal heart of American economics and government, which embody the entrepreneurial sovereignty and deeply-treaded legacy of material accomplishments of America,  were also at the same time compelled to be clothed in the shadow, the double of those buildings, which are the symbols of arrogance which achieves economic triumph by the chill reptilian reduction of individuals and nations to objects of target marketing. And the relationship between the
fulfilment of an American Dream and the infliction of a Third-World Nightmare will not go away, is immune to all distraction and bypass, is central to all Michaelic dialogue for this age, and so must be raised, felt as inevitable and must be answered not by those who would short-circuit thinking and speak in behalf of all of us, not by the flame-broil of spin doctors and well-jacuzzied media hypnotists, and the appointed hosts of credentialled high priests of politics and similar corrupt Magi, but rather by far more quiet, sovereign, authentic acts of private individuals who heroically refuse giving up their right to think or interpret or vote to those whose very conspicuous power and easy confidence make the rest of us victims in the claws of a scorpion, blind in loyalty to unwholesome assumptions about what is important in human existence.

"No one can hesitate acknowledging, no one can doubt that the terrorist attacks were obviously directed toward mocking, degrading and annihilating the prestige of an inspired economic and often morally-vacuous torque which expresses, which  promulgates ferociously manipulative interests to which we, stroked till numb-drunk with thoughts of triumphal cannibalism of success, wealth, have become fast addicts, and confuse our addiction with belief, and so have come, at long last to prefer victory to beauty, the celebration of turf to the blessing of the whole.Were all this not true, then why the chronic outpour of ecstatic violence in our entertainment industry, or the premium, adorationally god-like salaries of our glowing gladatorial sports heros which we homage and in such genuflexion, make ourselve a nation willing to remain fast anaesthetized by heroism minus the homework of heroism, which is the sourcing of courage, which, truth to swell, truth to tell, makes of us all shameless, intellectually safely grazing sheep while the angels weep snow tears to wash away the bloodshed below, while war remains a synonym for necessity.

"Those who are devastated deserve compassion and warmth, which injected into the engulfing brutality of this catastrophic moment, Americans can nobly rise to source, to greet the dragons of the day. But now enter the other half of the perspective: For our response, for our bathe of mercy in this dark night to ultimately prove to be a source of its salvation, one must also in the wake of such work of healing, acknowledge that Justice is older, more mature than Mercy, and the law of "Goes round, comes round" will have the final say as the instrument of revelation. We must ask what have we done to deserve to be awakened by such murder. In what way has our corporate loyalty, our IV of monthly green that drip$ in this petty pace from day to day swept under the carpet many opportunities to address the harmonization of East and West, to seek out a spiritual chiropractic alignment of Wisdom to Tool-based cultures?

"This event is a reincarnation of the storming of the Bastille, of peasants who have been victimized by both literal and attitudinal machinery, made the voiceless subjects of an unidentified aristocracy. Peer down the dim tunnels of history, observing the centuries when Indians decimated by Priveleged Conquistadors, prepared the way for Manifest Destiny, for Lebensraum, for Palestineans being oppressed by Israelis. Observe how wounded pride, how it makes us all addicts scrambling without dignity or majesty to secure a place in the sun, how fattened it becomes, flooded with opportunity to employ instruments of murder purchased from factories which keep American and European economy thriving, how it perpetuates a grave injustice to something far greater, far more consequential than the success of an American Dream, how it militates against the evolution of a mankind created in God's image. It is more convenient for history to repeat itself, then to cut the circle and from it becoming Carpenters, with leaven of hope north to the future pulling, author a spiral.

"I think the third world war is the conflict between those who merely embrace religious, philosophical and humanistic omni-cultural ideals and those who climb uphill to practice them, between a well-credentialled Ghost God and his lip services, who with theoretical warmth massacres the human race by cliches of indifference, and those of us on an Ark, the survivors of the Ghost God, who daily birth an experience-able God within who honors the human dwellers of this planet with a destiny, rather than abandons it to a fate.

"And so Earlyfire suspects that this is the question which none of us are capable of murdering, the one which will not go away, the one which, depending upon whether we, as, individuals who refuse to rubber stamp another's judgment, become noble by an act of response, or, remaining below in sub-human squalor, become a terrorist by our reaction. Tis the stuff out of which either/or is sired, and once sired, like a child, must now be raised. And they asked again and he says all this, 'tis but a mild footnote to a Christmas Carol, perhaps sung, it will remain to be seen, by the tone deaf.

""As ye from crimes would pardoned be, let your indulgence set me free""


#5
(9/21/01) terrorism and unconditional love

"Earlyfire, wait till it's midnight, then, backstage of the eyelashes, come forward: don't even whisper this, just think it on tiptoe)

"Love is present to coordinate the relationship between the presence of mercy and the workings of justice, between the Divine gift and Human choice, and so, by way of  honoring those to whom Choice is entrusted, whether they choose to exercise it wisely or not, for this reason, in honor of such distance, seems to refuse to absolve us who wield that sceptor,  of the course justice must take.

"Enter time, and so it comes to this: Justice is about revealing a relationship between decision and destiny, and like the Floorless Divine Scales of Libra upon which it is anchored, is about balancing conditionals which operate in process, and like seed and fruit, like ancestor and progeny, paired twins, intertwined Living Idea, is about circumstance which tutors the development of intuition,through whose stereoscopic third eye and sixth sense, we are enabled to see in, to develop in-sight into how every today is an After to yesterday's Before, to prophesy how every tomorrow's the "Not yet" to today's ongoing "Already".   Soft Sea of Mercy, unearned, is the gift of the possible, and dwells in abundance. Justice, what the possible becomes in the crow's nest of the ship of human intention, which descending into the concrete, like the Word made Flesh, finds its way down from dream into the real, becomes deed wrought by human hand.

"In this epic war of an ancient and a modern world view, between cultures which are the fruits of Greece, tool-gloved, and outward evolving, and the as yet unharvestable fruits of the Lands which Alexander the Great, Aristotle-tutored, through an inscrutably transcendent mystery which defies the egocentricity of conquest as a modality of influence, not allowed to overwhelm and transform into its image, and of the listening to establish the future conversation between Imagination and Concept much can be said. Now, however is not the time to discuss that which is wove into the role of Russia, and of those lands which lie East of Iron curtains and are, like the root races to come be concerned with the Archetypal personality of other Metals not our like, which share a scope and intent still for the most part hid. And so, to become more useful,  this tragedy makes it possible to initiate the nascent stirrings, the faint foreshadowings of what will grow into the achievement of dialogue leading to a harmony between the clash of interior strengths of religion-based cultures and the exterior adaptability and genius of the West.

"But have a second look into this Gem of Gem: Other polarities,  other facets contending for harmonization can fuel our imaginary powers, can assist us to visualize the reconciliation of other dualities, advarsarialities, a few of which are the achievement of balance between what is holy which streams upon the stage of the 21st century from devout and ritually incarcerated inflexible religious law aloof to individualized intervention, and the equally calcified redneck arrogance of the worship of competition-biased forms of ambition leading to a freedom for selected individual I-Am people and corporate entities, claimed as victories for all humanity yet achieved in the wake of a long scarred trail of sheer indifference to the interests of world Community. The path from "We" to "All" whether graceful and wondrous, or like the shattering of the asteroid belt concussed by the clash of invitation and refusal, depends upon Who tutors the I across the next chapter of time.

"All prophecy's lightly pencilled in. Perhaps now to risk more, to use ink, or to become Mesopotamian, and chisel a hieroglyph or two.

"In the economic sphere, Global initiatives of corporations which are nations minus the encumbrance of morality, and put another way, perform the subtraction, the detraction, the metaphysical math: Ambition equals Aspiration minus altruistic intent. So the third world war will prove that Western Culture with its NAPTHA agreement where a corporation can punish a nation for interfering with its right to make a profit, a single example of how we all better pray that Justice, which Earlyfire merely suggests is as much championed by the Christ as Unconditional Love,-  this sturdy algebra being in a nutshell the entire point,  - does not leave us all of us Alexanders, with our generation long Legacy of Western Death Tools sold to the highest bidder, as in, suppose we offend you with this imagination " Judas Iscariot is paid in oil barrels" -  standing on what we're standing for.

"But we have condemned enough: "O Freunde, nicht diese Tone!" How to move forward on sin, how to make good use of remorse, to rethink, to achieve Aristotle's Onegnoresis and Parepateia, recognition and reversal, how to turn tragedy around:

"And so imagine this: A third world war must be fought not to destroy lives but paradigms. Come, Earlyfire, you can do better than this! Not to destroy a no-longer-servicable paradigm which allows national identities to continue to remain on as atavistic metabolisms, as sterile empty players in the unfolding stream of world history. Not by any means, for nationality and patriotism, once the respectable conduits for onsided delivery of moral influence, viable in world counterpoint, now, have become upstaged by global corporate initiatives which are morally anaerobic and clandestine entities which have seized control of the media and transformed it into their own Pied Pipers for the promulgation of appetite-based fulfilments, and have convinced millions that the pleasure of such a pursuit, regardless of the expense to the third world, is possessed of an unchallengable momentum which no voice dare oppose.

"For this reason, and in the joyous recognition that we, anaesthetized by a gamut of stimulations on the spectrum of pastimes, sports, children's war toys to scandals, have tacitly allowed the maturation of a tragedy which lets desire function as 'spiritual power of attorney', now offer this: The Third World War will not be AGAINST a visible enemy, but  IN BEHALF OF the germination of an invisible rearising of a globally-scoped, intimate and epic and irreversible dimension of virtue. To fort-spin out the idea: Virtue capable of welcoming Michaelic aims which invite the germination of individuality at a new Round Table. The recurring pattern of hypnotic luciferic enchantment, and coercive Ahrimanic threat, of fire and frost, of advertising and martial law, the orchestration of star-spangled blowtorch dragon breath polarized by ruthless reptilian external-heat indifference to human compassion will all be devices of the past, archaeology which harks back to a no-longer existent age when a fledgling humanity had fallen chronic prey to a roller coaster of careening, imbalancing, decentralizing seductions. Compared to this new Dialogue, which promises, because those of us on the ark will guarantee by our silent oaths as knights to what is good, true and beautiful, to redeem the frailty of ourselves and others, will historians of the 22nd century will be compelled to regard the United Nations and International World Courts  as but ancestor infrastructures, frail of wisdom to conceive, love to harbor, and courage to manifest an emerging realization that the earth is one country and mankind its citizens.

"The rest's but a footnote to our tiptoe, putting on the brakes: As to the workings of justice, the child's first teeth are martyred when the second appear amidst swelling and furor and intolerable irritation. Just as in the process of biological labor, where one can hold a solemn funeral for the death of a placenta, or a celebration for the birth of the child, so also in the irreversible transformation of a world order, in which a moral inspiration and purpose which lives in what has been regarded as the gifts of human nobility can now arise in all corners of the globe, independent of the canopy of national identity, and so can, in the narrow isthmus of this Now, become experientially visible, and usable, it will be up to human beings to affirm, pursue and midwife omni-cultural sources of spiritual energy, which is identical to the wisdom which has and always shall underwrite religion, philosophy and art. It is not Alice who must pass through the looking glass from color, the sufferings of the rainbow, to find the seamless uninterrupted sea of light which shares itself equally into the crystal which fractures diversity, but, except as we become as young as she.........(Text breaks off here, turns faceless as a Waldorf Doll one can only imagine!) ;-D............

"<Hears: What is our role in making Justice as embracable as Love? Phlogiston, anyone?>"


#6
(9/23/01) IndyMedia Israel, B92 Radio, Noam	Chomsky,  "Sept 18th Inter...

"Recall three children singing the opening to act three of Mozart's Zauberflote.
"The Morning boldly dares to announce, the sun upon a golden path. Soon all superstition will disappear, soon the wise man achieves victory. Approach, O Sacred Silence, descend then from the Realms on High, and return once more into the hearts of men. Then the earth shall become the Kingdom of Heaven and mortals will become gods themselves."

"We are over 2000 years downstream of His Coming......Retaliation will postpone the descent, stave off the inevitable kindling of Conversation between the individual and the Christ within. Who knows this, knows that the war for the coordination of spiritual and economic priorities, achievable through dialogue between wisdom and will, always takes place in the City of Love, in heartspace.........

"As to villifying Noam Chomsky, whose spiked thought, choreographed with bladed metaphor which rips open the very ozone layer, he holds a point of view which many of us, in the name of clarity, rejoice to regard as mightily offensive, scarring and damning to that of the prevailing American populace which like safely grazing sheep, who rest assured in media-priested confidence, that wolves, Fenris and otherwise are but fictitious. Now it is easy to create a fable that corporations are altruistic, benevolent infrastructures, cathedrals of hope, paragons of virtue, champions of human joy, and hypnotized by such windfall gladatorial ecstasy, the rapture of triumphal obsession driven by the enslaving outmoded paradigm "all's fair in love and war" which dwells at the demonic root of the same religion of material cannibalism which inspired the Conquistadores, the Manifest Destiny which "legitimizes" the Decimation of the American Indians, the campaigns of Lebensraum, and now
Humiliation of the Palestineans, which, known by their fruits, rather than their PR, are doubtless decidedly Antichrist acts, indelible to overlook. Anyway, XXXXXXX, these are Choleric, not cosmetic times. To skim away slag metal requires conditions of volcanic intensity.There is no polite way for a second set of teeth to birth itself. The diamond, when asked of the secret of his success, responded 'tremendous heat and pressure'. But what he brought to light was not appreciated by those who, like devotees of the paralytic "History repeats itself", smugly expected him to remain black-boned as midnight, prefering prayers to the sourcing of unpopular alternatives to massacre. So also with us.

"Our government has allowed, has welcomed her corporations authoring abroad continuing Martian acts of malice and tyranny abroad year upon year, decade upon decade in the name of economic initiatives which with each passing campaign, operate more and more independently, aloof and immune to subjection to moral order. And so we say, Whoever among us who dares to equate the ownership of the initiatives of such corporations with the responsibility of American people, will gladly throw away his/her innocence, and ascend to the next rung of human responsibility which will enable us to honor the creation of Rights of Dialogue between Technology-based peoples and Religious-Focused cultures, in which the relationship between freedom and law is going to be rewritten on a spiritually-trustworthy, rather than a legally-coerced basis.

"The question is not whether Chomsky offends safely grazing sheep, but whether Justice is both offended by and therefore offensive to the Laissez Faire of Free Trade, which turns people into target markets, making them the vehicles for atavistic impulses which advocate honoring privelege and the entombment of a human race modelled under a crude food-chain hierarchy appropropriate to the animal kingdom. From this moment henceforth, one must ask, can a food-chain scaffolding, ever again be regarded as appropriate to sourcing, to inspiring human order which lives in the presence of spiritual priorities?

"What shred of any substantial moral fiber can be brought forth which can make any compelling distinction between the Imperialism and Jihad. Try as you might to launder this distinction, both are manifestations of insatiably deranged appetites, one to possess the resources of the world, the other to possess and preserve the loyalty of religious convictions. Both require aristocracies, both are slavery, one to the external, the other to interior mindset; both superimpose first, and listen later, or listen never. Both are unfree offenses. September 11th. Evening and morning a second day!

"When Philosophy recovers from the controversial rhetoric of charlatans which have replaced dialogue by policy, vulnerability by self-assertion, and agendas with the ability to see the other, it will become obvious to the waking that the term "Free trade" is an oxymoron. Freedom and Impulse are antonyms. Impulse wishes no element of perspective to intercept its blind swell of mandates, transform its intention or change its direction, and stamps itself upon people and nations. Freedom is a spiritual quality of achieving, an altruistic point of view which enables those who are free to author omni-cultural initiatives, which operate in the space where I, We and All are harmonized in utmost unrehearsed, trusting fellowship.

"As to Testosterone. When testosterone is elevated into pituitary regions, the serpent, always a symbol of wisdom in the Orient, is no longer villified, is, no longer fallen, no longer chauvinistic, i.e., subject to embrace in the Myth of the Western Fall, which is to say, no longer seductive, clandestine, no longer subject to limitations of intrigue and hidden agenda which mask true intent and spawn veneer and advertising,  but rather made sublime, Sublime-ated. And with such camphory gust of Alchemy, delivered in hollows of whenceless and witherless wind  threatening to elevate, we're suddenly transposed, back to Mozarts three voices, which we'll all listen for amidst the Melai massacres and the Dresden fire bombings, and the relapse of the labelling of people as enemies. Perhaps the Mothers against  Weapons Factories could dial up.......(Text breaks off here)

"And concludes from all of this, that  one kind of solar power is not enough, and that the Platinum Rule "Don't do unto others", is not nearly as unworkable as originally thought....................;-D  And a sea of Major chords to lightly wash tidal strum upon every beach, and at the shores of the distant stars and the branching places, and all voice unsturdies, and dissolves to dream, and backstage of eyelashes finds oasis."


#7
(10/2/01) Crossroads

"It is great to hear you grappling, to see evidence of how crisis nourishes transformation. What you voice is widespread, and echoes in all of us, ripples out to the ends of the world. Ask the diamond how it was once for him, self-absorbed in the black soothe, drinking light and heat and returning nothing, and what hatched from all that, what heat and pressure came to change all that. So also with us, and with the world, where the civil war of Machines and Righteousness, between freedom and kneeling, between Need turned Greed and Holiness, now comes front and center and names the conflict between, the (up to now ) mutually-exclusive genres of boast of the First and the Third World as raw material, 'un-diamoned' charcol, pivotal to developing a luminous, thriving coexistence between East and West. The allies will not align with nations anymore, for the time of the molting of nationality, of its turning to husk, of the rendering of its relevance as merely ancestral to a
new experientially-spiritually-recognizable unity of the Human Race, will no longer be postponed. What Intuition reads between lines what is indelible to mortal assault. Which bird do you know has permission to steer the wind?

"About those manuals, the rule books which define how we shall encounter, confront, embrace, transform death. There are none. Only people. The heart is a pen, blood, a flowing tale, and each of us, awakening, an author. Death can't be abstracted from circumstance. The intimacy between those who depart and their loved ones is integral to the mesh of the experience and the grief and hope, the letting go, the pierce of abandonment that kettle drums the rite of passage for those who ascend to Floorless Places and Haunts, the feeling orphaned and being left beneath in brief trap of mortal anchor, the entrusting of the unfinished dialogue, unauthored songs, and lost chords, to faith and the unfolding of Compassion is part of a karmic braid, whose threads are are a 'You' and an 'I' or a 'You and a 'We', and the third, a Voice of Living God to bridge the two, all individualized beyond all protocol or formula. "Then rest your head here, My Son".

"The very notion that there can be a correctness of interpretation, a window of acceptable response to the passing of an individual or a group seems a tyranny or a mockery, an implicit violation of what is destined to spontaneously arise in Sacred Heartspace. Never doubt this, that there are as many ways to say good-bye, to welcome with courage, even in breath of celebration the next chapter of relationship to the Ascended, to all Ascended across the river of stars, as there are mansions in my Father's House.

"So it becomes clear, that the Sea of Christ's Presence has come to dark earth so that Love can pour, Love the most original and miraculous of all acts can arise to answer, to unchill the most commonplace, the most unevadable and real act, Death. And Love, the Dissolver of Greyscale Stereotype, and of the Dungeon of "I Must", and the Redeemer of all Judgment, which scabs the River of Forgiving, does robustly, and with charm, with golden charm abounding. sources, midwifes like a prism does a rainbow, as many paths to Truth as there be people."


#8
(10/2/01) Echoes and Ripples from Delphi and other Unannounced Places

(Apparition as Apparitif: Now it can be made suspected, perhaps even known: 'Tis Wonder, voice of undefined beyond, which fills the Holy Grail:

"Disarmed, unhinged by sudden encounter of Beethovenesque Sybil-rant, as rivals the screaming red-orange burst of leaves which, tarentelle-like, ferocious spawn most makeshift coda to the death of chlorophyll and all his fluorishing summer spree, let well-policed reason find himself far too young to resist, too childlike to corral such iridescent magic sear as here, from all artesian hollows follows, hosting in this most reckless slum, unscheduled tides of spark and lofty strum.

"It is but gust to thrill with devout uncanny chemistry, and debuts with strange and winged trajectory, and stealing inland of widest heaven,
peasant-ragged in cindery words, hoboes his way to this mortal unkempt theater of makeshift magic on which we're but briefly docked.

"And make of all this unexpected Sea of Tears which in first morning light off the green riverbed of a trembling leaf arises, Dew: Then how
to share such debut, into this dark roam of silence, to share such would-be legacy spectacular at best in the mind's crow's nest. And pray
his thoughts die not a stillborn poem. Then further, Earlyfire, lay your grail aside, let wonder be dead, and in his sturdier stead pave your
gusts, bolster them with tread, hand-carry, ferry them across the gulf which separates dreams from this world, and dressed up cunieformed in deeds, fast-twined in bind of restless atoms of unvolatile news, indent human events and wonder then, if they, grown solemn, made not nearly so fleet thus sublimely disguised, your apprentice psalms might find their way to the street..

"Thus round you unseen, careens our untame flame in dervish Sibyl-chant Dream on, dance on, and all that's inbetween, not one breath shall we
recant.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"Requiem on Foot

"First, that the dust of the skyscrapers shall be collected, and the hollow of September's sorrows made the the site of a potter's kiln which that shall become, in due time, an Eternal Flame, sister to the one at Arlington national cemetry and that throughout the course of this year, individuals who have lost friends and family in the events of September, will come to hand engrave the name of whoever was loved and here lost on wet clay, and fire it to sturdy stone,. Slowly a symphony of bricks each one composed of a slightly different hue would share the tale which now people have to bear in their thoughts....

"Perhaps 50 a day would be sourced at this Kiln's fire, given presence in stone, and there accumulate over the months, till all those who are missing have a mention. Around the graveyard of the towers these will these remain on watch throughout this year of mourning, while every day the names of those for whom bricks were fired on that day, shall be read aloud across national television, published in newspapers, and on a web-site as well.

"And as the number mounts so shall these serve to remind us to keep watch over, to remain close to those visible only to heart. But when a year has passed, and crisp bladed autumn has upstaged once more another summer of dreams, announcing the first anniversary of this tragedy, all
of us shall commemorate the event, still fresh, by "an unveiling", a giant procession, in which all the families and friends of those who
died, and anyone else who wishes gather at the rubble, there to rehonor them. Work will be suspended for a given hour on that day, and New York will become silent.  All will slowly walk north in a memorial procession into Central Park. So shall it be, that along one of its familiar paths or upon an altogether new one along which a short wall already cemented winds, each brick will be hand inlayed on top, mortered by friends and family, each surfacing a foot upon a road of hope.

"Thus what has fallen from the sky and relies upon human hands to rebuild, is now evidence by our care care and devotion, and finding suitable
response to the invitations and responsibilities of love, forwards their memory live into today's purposes, enabling future generations to able to walk and contemplate what happened here, and share in small measure the presence of those who now rest. And Labor day will be relocated to the 11th of September to celebrate the commemoration. An appropriate outdoor service or a concert will punctuate the event...................

"As to the remaining dust from the skyscrapers, let it be be fired into glass globes of lanterns, and every year hence, a night vigil shall be commence, with these lanterns rekindled, like we, in borrowed light from the second eternal flame, and carried north once more in a
ceremony there to glow resting atop the bricks.

"When Death make us floorless, Innocence becomes Wings."


#9
(10/9/01) dog soldiers too

"The archetype of the Warrior is a Romantic Ideal, most untrivial , something we ought not to mock, martyr and trash in an unmarked pauper's grave. For the problem is not in living the life of Beethoven, of being Orange Torchlight, Courage incarnate, ambassador of fierce and rare virtue evidencing the power of deathless awe in pour and leap of unbridled leonine majesty. None of this energy, the very antidote and redemption to all sad, emaciated intellectual abstraction, and chill reptilian arrogance alike, presents a problem to those who would freelance the wilds and balance the orbits of the planets and the lives of men and nations, and fine tune the songs of birds in flight and bearing witness to the dialogue between the wind and the leaves, wear the Crown of Thorns.

"Yet Twixt the steep of ancient loyalty, of being drowned in sea-soothe of reverence and all his royal entourage of sacred obligations, which blankets us in centuries of sleep ere we bladed rose, punctuated in sorry exile and airy knowledge to earn our leap of freedom, we must learn to rescind everything which holds intellectual and moral power of attorney over us, that loyalty may find his way to principles. I am afraid to say, I am delighted to say, Knighthood, the door to noble initiation which confers the power to honor, then to understand and finally mete out the workings of justice, is voiced in frost of solitude. And thinks this thought and rides it to shore: Patriotism is the ancestor, freedom the heir apparent. 'Twixt the two, terror, and warm Love to answer. (Voice can only travel so far on horseback, before his very words dissolve into fresh wind, like flame rises north into dream)

"In his first period Beethoven, spearless, wingless, armed with just devotion, imitated the classical style."


(10/9/01) Loyalty's Optometrist is a Metaphysician

"Expanding a bit on yesterday's post. Courage is unrehearsed process: When Justice forgets how to read between the lines, he puts cushions in
cathedral floors, hires kneeling scribes, declares kneeling synonymous with humility, and soon laws are born, and the pure swift rivers of the
Voice of Intuition, arteriosclerosed in vocabulary and precedents, are reduced to whisper and crippled with apology. Soon, wine and wafer
appear, but little more than lackluster magic there, and a scant few centuries later, pharmacological panaceas replace them, and messiah the
countryside: A drugstore in every market. Not by bread alone. So at last, Noble Intuition, the Lazarus factor which lifts us out of the
sepuchres of our gilded and professional vanities, spokeswoman for Sophia Herself, has been martyred yet again, as first by arrogance of
external authority, who heavy-handed, would cramp the Emerging Christ within, now by shiek blinking lights that embellish the Tree of Life
beyond all recognition, and the nitrous oxide of convenience. A syndicated rerun of 868,  when the nascent humanity of  the West is turned into a headless horseman, defrocked, dogma-numbed of access to intercourse with the gods, and intimidated by the unwritten law of AhrRomanic Catholic Martial Law, by edicts sweetly delivered in flowing designer cobra-hoods, jewelled and Draculesque crimson papal robes never worthy disciples
of any wind ever John spoke of; and so the West is made nocturnal, blood-thirsty, clandestine with hidden agenda, hid, bunkered behind his
magic machines, flooded with mockery, made conquistadorial for manifest destiny and the decimation of the Saturn race, made Supermen, priveleged
to lebensraum. To know all this, to plan on answering it. No wonder Morya says, "the suffering of a decade is crowded into each day in the
lives of the Chosen Ones. Better a full cup of grief than a life of mild sadness".

"Not to be surprised, nor dismayed, though, "Pardon gentles all, the flat unraised spirits that hath dared on this unworthy scaffold to bring
forth so great an object " (Henry V), again, not to be nihilized, ground to powder, for this unrivalled age in which the energies and perspective of assess, caress and reverse the extent of thousands of years of interior collateral damage we have authored by oblivion, by our crimes against spontaniety, crimes against listening, crimes against touch and unconditional embrace.

"XXXXXXXXX's posts upon the integrity of intimacy in Moslem culture and the trustworthiness presupposed and required to maintain the resonance,
to live within authentic relationship, defines the joyous challenge of the ascent back in Western culture, from alienatingly insulting,
'merely credentialized'  forms of human encounter prefaced, pocked and barriered with titles, and labels, and denominations of wallet-friendly,
profession-hawking identity, back to full recovery of inner plane rapport, all our wars laundered, washed away in good will. As if,
reading between the lines, one hears: Inspired is more practical than strategic. Purify the intent, and the deeds will follow.

"For on pondering the exalting infrastructure of Moslem community, and inviting upon ourselves requirements of seeing into the heart of the
other, it occurs to Earlyfire that were we interested in being able to look into the countenance of our anonymous brothers and sisters who
share yet leave no tread upon our teeming sidewalks, the interior paths they walk, the doors to the thoughts and feelings they source would be flung open in our faces, and the apprentice angel straight-jacked in mortal ritual would reveal their identity, and from such strum and thrill, one can easily distinguish as a gemmaker does glass from diamond, or a metallurgist, gold from brass, or lovers Chemistry from chemistry,
whether they possess a pure, kindly and radient heart, or are steeped, remote with agendas of boast, chill and sabotage. So this is what the
Moslem world has to teach the West, the dialogue which defuses the imperial land-mines which indwell the heart of ambition and vanity, which clothe every Anakin Once-Skywalker with black garb which trades vulnerability for the falsely-human path "I am a force to be reckoned
with", I am the CEO, a stainless steel Christ, armed, made ruthless with perks, bow with desire before my mechanical blessings. So there you have the virulent, hypnotic fire of the dragon hacking right into our faces, what we, who wish to become Grail initiates, are dealing with, yes, and the latitude and longitude of his lair as well, visible in any, in every mirror! About the term catharsis, the de-slagging, the skimming off of the molton impure metals surfacing under such raging, brutal times as these, when there is great heat and pressure in the human cauldron, we
acknowledge this cauldron is the ancestor of the Grail itself. But catharsis, strange to say is born of an Arabic term 'Kawthar', meaning
"pure spring". Earlyfire, youngest grasshopper, learn from this, but no need to kneel, for the time of the Inquisition is past. You are now old
enough to recognize that placing your knees to the floor cannot possibly add any substantial significance to the distance between the floor and
the sky, which makes a good fashion statement, wondrous closing argument which very handsomely rests his case for the existence of something we
easily forget, a gulf between Man and God. Then be safe, exhale. Love makes better stronghold than enchantment."


#10
(10/11/01) voice of an american

"The phenomenology of oblivion might be a better subject for what follows:

"XXXXXX's Jack-the-Ripper letter, sports an almost "refreshing degree of malice" steeped in, reveling in, hawking and bragging unbridled intolerance as if such defiance were a heroism noble and laudable,in front of which all humanity kneeling, must homage as a source of strength. But the opposite is true: It is callous arrogance and such retaliative gusts as isolate one person or nation from access to the other, and create barriers to intimacy, the rapport necessary to nurture and achieve holiness in relationship, offer no honorable or useful antidote against absurdity, or any slings and arrows of any outrageous fortune.

"Archetypally Klingon, its hostile carbon-arc glare brings to the fore and defines an interesting eccentric genre of self-expression, which henceforth shall be called "Redneck Ecstasy". Here, we actually get to witness the unadulterated simplistic kneejerk which lives in compassion-anaerobic climates claustrophobically pedestaled upon will-based headless-horseman a-cultural mindsets, such as 'Reflection-optional', 'wisdom optional', 'mercy-optional' (and reminds himself: Loyalty to self-absorption does not a Dog-Warrior make.)

"No question there is some recreational turbulance here, a macabre emotional rollercoaster ride, but the maturity level of that adolescent Jihad, with its intent to beat the shit out of the golden-calf worshippers is showing: The official breatholizer test results are in fresh from Sinai, XXXXXX's Charlton Heston "NRA blood-level" is way up and over the moral limit of self-infatuation. Like everyone else who falls out of evolution through such paralysis, this man, unable to find wholesome work, will have simply have to become a parasite off captive audiences.

"What's dangerous about such sheik, raw, suffocating diatribe is that it's inspired."


#11
(10/15/01) Sea Of Love

"All red lights have been declared illegal until further notice. Abandon all 911, ye who read on, this is Scherzo, tapdancing lightning, which when it strikes your sidewalks, strews banana-peels everywhere.....

"Hello, Ms. M's-chief!
I love you too

"First, to get right down to spass, Have some newly-hatched pounding popcorn, metaphysical punctuation guaranteed calorie and cholesterol-free, fresh from the Anthroposophical Microwave's carnivalesque menagerie! In the ongoing "war" between miraculous and meticulous, Meticulous Spiritual Scientific research reveals that it is strongly, perhaps even dogmatically believed, and if not believed, then downright strongly asserted that each golden, asymetrical, tooth-crushable, gnome-liberating buttery kernel has, tutured by the excellent snowflake diamond-cutter, a precise and uniquely unduplicatable shape, a serial number with a highly-prized gravity-laden astrological meaning, inscribed in parchment wrapped in red-laced velour string, till a nasty Iowan sorceror cast the Orville Redenbacher spell upon it, and henceforth permeated by verbal nitrous oxide whose traces persist 'even unto this day', it burst its sorry seams, and wanders freelance, awaiting the hungry, awaiting you. And so in reverence, I hand over to you this bowl of Goetheanum-Authorized Laughter nobly wear-dated to read "best when experienced immediately or sooner"; its sole claim to fame if not virtue being that it tastes every bit as delicious as its invisible older anglic non-consumnable sister, Rapture, which, according to the most Akashic-fluent Spiritual Scientists, lives, more reverently, drill sargeant,==> "D W  E    L     L     S" in the incredibly-shrinking Ozone Layer.

"It's Zunday night; we are dropping off our little three-month-old "Little Lead Baby", known affectionally in these parts as Doctor "Solemn", yep, ruthlessly dropping him off at Nightcare, and suddenly erasing the latitude and longitude lines all over the globe, so as to develop a convenient Amnesia. Verify for yourselves! Simply Buy and launch a satellite and go hunting for the grid that slices our little navigations into well-numbered portion-controlled searingly sharp lines of north and south compass and swerve. And peering into your TV's through the magnetic eye of yon satellite, Look down upon the green globe, this brave Zunday -  What did I tell you? Just as the wind is my eraser, and lyric poetry his tarnhelm, look far and wide: All latitude and longitude lines utterly vanished, as invisible as an abstraction. The North star has gone on vacation, all compasses pirhouette-like curtsy in confusion, Indeed. And were I not an experienced Zbiritual Skyientist, I would, in panic begin concluding that everything has suddenly become mysterious, undefinable, sacred, touchable. Then Cradle my little baby, Dr.Solemn; hold him safe in unsurpassed majesty,  O' Seamless, Ancient Unplural Lord of Awe Most August and Undivided , and thrill your young human race, Lord of Wine, Woman and Song, who creates Ted Nugent and Osama bin Laden out of the same Love as the rest of us...............For Evil is Good gone undercover.

"So Dr. Solemn, our three month old, as we so meticulously documented, is now abandoned to various buoyant gurgling bubble-gum-chewing sprites none carrying the official Hierarchy-Id cards - for these 'unfortunately' disappeared along with the latitude and longitude amnesia.  Cheer up, though, in a brief century or two, when the sun rises again, and the Unkempt Thrill of bladed clarity de-gausses our monitors of all Atlantean Blur and Mist, when, as the prophecys inform us, latitude and longitude lines rise again and we recover our bearings, and the world is made safe for concrete vocabulary, we'll fetch him back from Nightcare, and can start spit-shining our precision. Till then, behold the fluttering of Pteridactyl wings rippling in the ancient air, and the smell of silver wine, tutored by the glow and the swoon of the lover's moon. We'll leave little Doctor Solemn with the little elves till, caressed by smiles, he's turns a little more casual, giddy, and forgets to spell, he misplaces all his barbed-wire consonants, and clinically iniebrated, morphs into an unsturdy, volatile, swirling Sea of Vowels, as well-choreographed as any dream ever gets.

"And when we see him next, the little children will have stunted, grated down the entire contents of many a box of Milton Bradley Astral Crayons, putting the spunk back in his complexion, color in Joseph's Coat of many Grayscales, and leap and spark and strum in his trampoline. For Its vacation time from the Hour of Ponder. Welcome to the tongues of tide slurping up on your white ivory beaches. Please have your exhale tickets or reincarnation free-float passes ready for gentle punching when the conductor, Walt Steiner-Disney passes your way.......

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"And so ends our Zunday gust, of Seraphim, Cherubim and Cartoons, disguised as tale: It was authored by Zing Arthur, you know, the softer-consonanted and alleged younger brother of the illustrious and awesome and altogether chivalrous keeper of Camelot who was the Divine Lense of the Arising of the Dew-drops of love, when chivalry, noble camphor-cool chivalry, noble as winter snow, placed limitations upon the sweet fire of romance.

"Thus, the Keeper of Nightcare sayeth: It is easier to swim in the Sea of Love than to see it.

"As for the spidery forms, one more of Orville's buttery kernals: Joy is outgoing, releasing, moving from the center to the periphery. Arachne's Web, the Minotaur's Maze, entangling, entrapping drawing from the outside inward. This explains 'perfectly adequately' ;-D, ...........why the spider is repelled by laughter. Legend has it that in the ancient times, before the Word was robed in flesh, when the unassembled Periodic Table of the Elements was just an unriveted kit without an instruction guide, times when the Sea of Laughter was too young to be heard in anchored places, he was a gleam haunting, charming the halo of children. And this, I suppose, perhaps even imagine, is but one of the recipies from Zing Arthur's calorie and cholesterol-free book of robust sound bytes."


#12
(10/30/01) A Trance-Sylvanian Gust for the Halloween Full Moon

"Being a permutation of what was intended to be a 'Tranquil-Vanian" variation of same: (being one of the chapters of a little-known driftwood, now debuting upon your shore, entitled, "The Psalm-Pilot Journeys of the Part-Time King David")

"Dear Friends: What follows, though not necessarily rhetorical is Spass, Seasonal Trick-or-Treat: Any attempt to regard it as anything other than 'Poetically-Licensed Gust', is purely intentional only on an allegorical level........

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

"So imagine this little self-spun article I never read in the Occult National Enquirer. I've shrunk myself down to sub-leprechan scale, and,
riding horseback upon a cricket, on a romp, a buoyant, rhapsodic, "strum-thrill romp" through the Sherwood Forest most uncartesian sector
of the Elysian fields, spot through the grass, an Implike-scaled, - please, I beg of you by all that is Milk-white, lofty and upward-rising,
-  do not think this oxymoron - a "Very Young Rudolf Steiner", recreationally smirking, brandishing a miniature slingshot, ethereally
whispering "Take this, Goliath", who then fires off a tiny lead pebble at a hovering butterfly, obviously preparing to dock for an ecstatic
moment's sip at upon the nearby hypnotic perfume-wreathed silk-surfaced crimson-petalled lips of a wondrous flower, curtseying like a
Eurythmically undulating pastel scarf kneeling in a mild zephyr. NO, do not light up a cigarette yet.

"Awe-struck, I felt it my Germanic Duty, (- risking the use of capital letters, hope xxx xxxxx doesn't find out -), disembarking my cricket,
and loosely tying him with a few modest twists of a blade of grass to the stem of the flower, I snuck up on RS, and balloon-like, resized
myself to comparable stature, and boldly shouted, "Stop ravishing the Butterfly this moment! You're a noble sage" RS retorted, "Thats just the
half of it. All which made me noble I learned sitting crosslegged upon one of the stools while conversing, of course, altogether reverently, -
check the spiritual scientific research, yes, trust me, as verily akasha is my witness - with yes, Christ the Bartender: Now his expression
changes, becomes unperplexed. I notice dirt under his Anthroposophic finger-nails. "However it was from Mary Magdelena that I learned to
flirt. You see, you can't spend your whole life, Harvey, my little Marco Polo saddled up upon a Grasshopper just IN-haling. Once in a while, it
helps to fall prey to a caress. "

"Truth to tell, If I had made beauty as important as knowledge, touch as important an orchestration as thinking is a process, blessing as
important as awareness, I would have been able to create parallels between the way Art and Spiritual Science unfold, and ideas would become
journeys rather than dead worshipped artifacts in the Goetheanum's pantries. Oh, and finally - I could have found robust friends to
converse with both in this world and the one to come, rather than amassed a congregation to guard my 6000 lectures of second-hand
inventory effectively preventing them from becoming the means to access acts of creativity and awe courage which author them and all original
gust.

"Just at that moment, the ferociously-fired stone, which, during what seemed an unusually, in fact, downright interminably long slow-motion
trajectory...............;-D ............had, ---   unbelievable as it sounds, --- turned enroute into a perfectly round golden bead, this
golden sphere then reached its target, and the Butterfly, struck with said mad flirt, began convulsing with such intense jello-like
seismically-significant laughter  as rendered it completely out of control; right before my eyes, she compulsively shape shifted back into
Mary Magdelena, who whispered to me "Joy is a special wisdom". And some say her ascended native shape, in that most awesome mapless quadrant, of
the Platonic Equivalent of Sherwood Forest nook and cranny of the Elysian Fields, was that of a rainbow, while others insist that if such
were indeed the case, spiritual scientific research would be able to confirm that it was indeed a coiled, serpentine, mysterious, elusive
rainbow, voiced in swerve, sinewed with mobility akin to the freelance Northern Lights.

"Yes this is one of Earlyfire's unpublished Dead-Sea-Fairytales: Later, back at the OK Corral, where the Gunfight between Lazarus, St. Germain,
Christian Rosenkreutz, Count Ragoszy of Transylvania who reincarnated as Osama Bin Laden, takes place within earshpt of the Bartender, on a clear day you can see Him fill up RS's ginger ale, and murmering slightly above the fizz and spin He confides: Mary, my Prodigal Daughter, Now you know why she's the One I so love!"


#13
(10/17/01) Not Giving up.

"Excellent thoughts, xxxxxx.........

"Longevity often equates to simplicity. Bacon, in the preface to  The New Atlantis, puts in King Solomon's Mouth "All novelty is oblivion: There is nothing new under the sun." Yet, as the poet Blake says in The Marraige of Heaven and Hell, "Eternity is in love with the works of time". And these two, crisscrossing at the right angle, define the human crucifix, the Vertical and the Horizontal which has been spoken of.

"Mahayana Buddhism, which prefers to define the chapters of unfolding process as Mavantara, caused by different degrees of entanglement of Porusha, Spirit, (Listen! sounds like "porous rush", like wind, the default term for spirit in Hebrew, and in those John mentions are born of wind) -  Porush entangling, weaving into the workings of Prakriti, Nature (Prakriti, sounds like practical, pragmatic), duality which inspires Steiner to anchor all of Anthroposophy upon Man, the fulcrum where Freedom and Necessity and embracing, and for better and worse, make for mortal marraige and immortal promise.

"So how shall we, on the Ark, delight to do likewise. That part of us which is vertical, and seer, and to each of us a crystal ball with three echoes of seed-kernal energy germinating, outward rippling: Jupiter, Venus, Vulcan,  imagination to see, inspiration to hear, intuition to touch into. How shall we, gypsies on this Ark and old as cactus at this juncture of time, address our conversations so that what unfolds from them refuses just to begin with words and end with words? For if eternity is in love with the workings of time, if the horizontal and the vertical are to be Divinely, Nobly, Alchymically wed, than inspiration must, like a step-down chakric transformer, suffer a voice change (into something rich and strange) and clothe itself in baritone will, and all our fair and pastel dreams must grow bark and claw and fang and hoof, and become metaphysically seaworthy, perhaps developing what we do not yet have, a steadfastness which creates footsteps to prove that we as a group, have become interested in leaving some tread upon the beach, all this, regardless of what be the initiatives of the Tide.

"Do we leave JFK's and MLK's Camelot brickless flutter? Do we remain Rapunzel's Essene Ivory Tower, while all around us the world is flooded with Retaliatory Lunacy, when we, for the price of testing out how well the horizontal and vertical rafters make us their rivets, can become a voice, a global voice which reveals how to initiative the dialogue we have all been waiting for. It is a jewel with many surfaces, such as the handshaking between Christianity and Islam, the Modern and the Ancient, the Shephards and the Technological Magi, the Rugged Individualist and the Sacred Community, the Devotion to ideals and the slavery to machinery and to pleasure, all these are permutations flooded by one light, and we who know something about how to harmonize, authors of coexistence between, and the reconciliation of polar opposites. And imitate the reconciliation of the vertical and the horizontal.

"If there is to be kindled serious thought with shelf-life which endures and transforms itself into deeds, which can be sourced through our dialogues here on the Ark, we might wish, as a group to hold ourselves accountable, rather than be Hermetic and Elusive Essenes. So: How to make of our discussions initiatives which can feed the world, to turn the word to flesh, to imitate Christ, rather than merely to marvel at His presence. To move from ghostlike blueprints to fiery resolves which confront the dragons of the day in the vocabulary, in the medium of intellectual currency in which communication is being sourced, and so create metaphysical anchor here, south of the sky.

"Therefore, an old Pythagorean ratio: Wisdom is to Thought as Inspiration is to Feeling as Courage is to Deeds."


#14
(10/23/01) Ark self-help

"If there is a possible flaw in the existence of the Ark, it is in our refusal as responsibly esoterically-scoped and connected people to champion, to require of ourselves the sourcing of initiatives which put to the test the beauty, wisdom and inspiration here sourced into the crucible of the world.

"Hamlet, as we ourselves several centuries later, can never have a problem with the "Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fantasy". Fantasy, imagination which is turned inward and in narcicissm's plastic Kubla-Kahn bubble hermetically battle-free, indulging "Most Favored Experiential Status" seeking oasis from the perils of circumstance, does make us all like the Essene communities gone before us, privileged in our isolation from risk-taking. And by such failure to source a voice which desires to encounter and do battle with the Demons of the Day, we very much injustice the Michaelic Hierarchies, who are waiting to knight who wishes to champion the transformation of the world. Kama Loka is not only about what you did, but about the crimes of oblivion and spiritual laziness, the unborn "what you could have done", the bearing of the consequences of trashed opportunity.

"Consider the myriad phobias, superstitions which ravage the world today, and ask yourselves one and all, if our conversations begin with words and fail to end in deeds, how can we dare call ourselves the advocates of threefolding,. In surround THX sweep, issues of formularistic coagulation and metronomic conveyor-belt thinking abound: Redneck, Fundamentalism, the torquing of education into polite intuitionless recipied stainless-steel Norms-based testing, and on the other hand, the arsenal of Luciferic ADHD-blowtorch as well: Compulsive obsession with scandal, feeding frenzy born of Deranged-enchantment, issues of the equation of Justice with Payback/Retaliation, our tragically oblivious defiance of the necessity of authoring spiritual solutions to economic problems, our Hypnotic enchantment with SUV's,  the continued applause for the honoring of the term "Target Market", the employment of Christianity as an anaesthetic to justify a world-view devout with pathological
embrace of triumphal gladiatorial forms of charisma which confuses and installs Thrill as a state Religion.

"If the Ark were to assume some social responsibility for focusing the collective wisdom and inspiration of its members, and dock on human shores, go inland and armed with Excalibur, take the risk of challenging society to embrace a turnaround of paradigms, and sourcing an international, omnicultural community voiced in some external entity such as the Anthroposophic equivalent of the Christian-Science Monitor, including which are Native-American and Aboriginal voices, Perspectives from Eastern Europe, Tibet, and the like, you can be sure that we would never lack for closure in our endeavor. What Atlas carries is not filled with helium, but has, and must endure weight. Can we source gravity-free conversations which begin with words and end with words after the Skyscrapers are turned to dust? Is there such a such a thing as a theoretical response to human suffering?

"Therefore what Earlyfire wishes to connect regarding Santa Fe xxxxxx of Mozart's Garage's objections to  the shortcomings in closure, which one dares infer both he and I believe ought to be a source of irritation not to either of us personally, but to ANYONE who wishes to honor threefolding in general, is that a discussion group which is interested in operating out of wisdom and feeling, out of cognitive and heart-space, but not will-focus, lacks a "mundane factory outlet" in the real world, where Anthroposophical influence capable of outpouring transformative optimism and scope to a transition to new paradigms is being WITHHELD from  the challenge of finding the focus and courage to commit to inspiring world-change. We can continue to enjoy Essene-like choir-like isolatory sanctuary, and though not malicious, nonetheless in such tacit refusal to source initiatives which engage rather than evade the Dragons in the World-Furnace, scandal and dogma and the obviously
atavistic church-state sacred cow against which authoring of experientiable spirituality ought to be poised ready to dismantle and dissolve, will continue to hold sway in world thinking.

"Steiner speaks of how Christianity is capable of addressing the most sophisticated needs of the Magi, and the simplest scope of the shephards. To carry this one step forward, each human being must find the means, if he/she is to recreate the New Lazarus, to source the Grail Initiation, to be simultaneously both Sage and the Peasant, the Head and Hands, in perfect equilibrium, heart, i.e., Christ-fulcrumed. Read between the lines: In this age Rudolf Steiner must walk out of the Goetheanum, and abandoning his box of pastel crayons, become like Martin Luther King, and march on Washington, else you have sumptuous Group-throw-posophy rather than Mankind.

"But it is OK. It is easier to be swaddled in dream than to listen to bladed words. We have placed each of you in a wicker basket and send you downstream on the Nile. And therefore be not surprised to discover there is absolutely nothing wrong in imagining that a single tap of one's staff upon a distant rock will one day bring forth Manna-flavored Orange Julius."


#15
(11/8/01) Pray for Steiner

""As the leaves are the ambassadors of the wind, as snow is the messenger of the cold, so is the word but the dust from the breath of a creative thought" Morya

"So, first off, to paraphrase JFK's "Turnaround Paradigm", unsuspected as useful, worthy, essential to the embrace of every idea, allegiance, theater of opportunity and suffering, garden of beauty, mountain-climb of challenge, breath of aspiration and detachment from mortal perspective, and bring it home here, where we all live, in the chamber music of interior thoughts which are as wind, and find their way to the masts and the sails that hang from them, sails which are the ears of the hierarchies, and we their lullabyes, through which They rest easy, that His will be done in corporeal climates, inaccessible directly to them.

"And to recognize that since RS mentions often that Christ is not a world-teacher, He is a world doer, paraphrase, decamuoflage JFK's occult invitation, here, within the four wallless walls of the society and the class. "Ask not what Anthroposophy can do for you but what you can do for Anthroposophia." Note the shift. Anthroposophy is a collection of thoughts, presumed, that is, as we, as if we, briefly borrowing the Eyes of God see them, potentially living, but like Snow-White, her voice paralyzed, her wakefulness numbed, entombed by a witch's enchanted apple looking out and up, eyes wide shut through a glass coffin, we, warm her, wake her. Sleeping Beauty, that most untheoretical Mary Magdelene within, who comes to life thriving, and vibrant redeems all chauvinism and dissolves forever the basis of any, of all, and upon a grain of Mustard Seed, of all future war which is predicated on the conquistadorial male model, imbalanced blade without grail, and so we become like
Christ, doers, and then Anthroposophy is, like Sara, renamed, reborn, morphed, transfigured to Anthroposophia, and fed, not by frail words, mere promse, but deeds on credit, but by throb of most unimaginary acts which leave treadmarks on sturdy bronze earth as well as in pearl gleam of akasha, we can at last, on our dancing day, say, as sung each Christmas, "This have I done for my true love!"

"Thus it is, we must be able to ask at the dawn of every day, "How may I redeem my own inertia, that is, recover from the enchantment of having been lifted into Divine realms through what RS gives out, and in what ways shall we continue his work?" And not to fear using the present tense when describing our relationship to the work RS has given, and by bravely daring consider that much of it is deliberately incomplete, to honor us with purpose, and to know that the greatest part of the Legacy which he has left behind for the living, is the invitation to operate not out of guilt or necessity, or out of debt but out of joy. For what Lucifer bestows as Freedom, the Christ within cleanses, elevates, makes to sparkle, and so we say again, what arose in rebellion, now must be redeemed in joy. Joy. The Savior of Freedom.

"Therefore, it is Buoyant Joy which, within our acts as well as our dreams and thoughts, ANSWER, the waxing- solemn, the weight of bearing the Crown of Thorns. And whoever postpones the invitition to marvel at the last verse, with its still-dry ink from the Book of Revelation, scarce 2000 years old "For the former things have passed away", should be aware of the fact that He may, though infinite His Sea of Mercy, may nonetheless hold us, we who allege to be John's transfigured Disciples of Wind, born not of the Flesh, etc,  accountable for our procrasination."

"So these are Earlyfires leaves, and Snow, and they ride horseback upon fists of wind, and, such being our financial state, are shipped second-day priority, and delivered to the sails, your ears, which carbon-spined, upright sit  upon masts of vertical bone which populate us still of mortal ambience, with semblance of stature and lofty lift. ;-D

"Then try this freelance gust of thought on for size", and let it be dessert, like the last word itself: "Then come quickly, Lord Jesus" means: Be like lilies, toil not, worry not about RS's plight, and continue not to don similar Medieval Iron Maidens which Batlike, frock priests in caves of Hell-Robed thoughts designed to mock the flight of angels and distract you from sipping the laughter of the elementals.

"Our wine's poured. Drink not too much, lest you end up enchanted, skyword peering, as aforementioned, through a windshield of a coffin, awaiting "Knowledge of Prince Charming, How is He Conjured?"

"(Exit backstage, Bornfield, and whisper: Lord of the Elements, of the Lost, and the Awakening, forgive us our love for encryption and mythology, and for smuggling Golden Ages across the Threshold in carry-on luggage and for dissolving ideas in seas of dreams, and by power of grin alone, loosing every anchor on green earth.)""


#16
(11/9/01) More on WC and Steiner attacks

"The WCO, located in cyber-Afghanistan, is indeed the 21st century Lion's Den boot camp for all aspiring initiates, saints, prophets, and more importantly than all of these flavors of nobility, human beings. Here you will find puppets with fangs, the Orphaned, Faceless and Betrayed, the vastly Recycled and yet UnReborn, the Raw, Ferocious and Mad, those who inhabit the snowy continental divide between erudition and arrogance, far above the treeline of nurture. But Now to leave our autumnally flaming orchestra at day care, descend from ether, and try our hand with discourse.

"XXXX, I agree with your observations, regarding our vulnerability as advocates of love and light,  mercy and tolerance to the carni-voracious overtures of those who make Klingon Ambience their highest priority, and conceal it in grandmother's white bonnets.  We all need to reread little Red Riding Hood. Said again, we are lucky if we know enough to applaud a stance which regards the pursuit of wisdom as an overture, an unblemished gesture to an outreaching act of invitation, and observe that those who are not lucky are often angry, and bear ongoing, evidence of heavy-handed karmic grudge languaged in a thousand issues, concealed in politics and controversy, as though dealing with the epicenters of conflict redeem the sources of human discontent and malaise, which is remoteness from access to wisdom above, beauty within and courage below. To crusade, to aspire to offer, to present philosophy as a simple act of welcoming the approach to human perspective, and in so doing to risk scathe and subtle forms of intellectual martyrdom in the act of creating the alternative devoutly to be wished, to all those who continue to wish to superimpose points of view which launder a craving for dominance, lying by presenting it as altruistic in scope, noble in intent, pure, untorqued, of guileless, virgin motive, this is what we do with Excalibur.

"Possessive, entrenched points of view promulgated through argument, hawked through clever and labyrinthine and convoluted strangleholds of so called 'Rational Proof', enjoy far too wide a circle of applause and credentiallized acclaim in this, our gladatorially-obsessed western culture where triumph challenges truth for "most-favored Prime Directive status", and in so doing mars the Divine signal-to-noise ratio, deafening the experience of self-evidencing, with seduction and skirmish, advertisement and policy.  One looks around, in THX surround-sweep: Everywhere at universities and schools, which have been made the whores in the herim of the Salary Overlord, one sees evidence of advanced metastatic spiritual degradation in culture, beholds cloaked in Darth and Batman's B.A, M.A and Ph.D. dark priestly robes, vampire-crimson-lined, a bureaucracy of cowards who authorize such flatline lunacy in the name of higher-education, all off on a wild-goose chase for pharmacological messiahs and panaceas, as though a caress from Prince Charming now legally equates to a prescription to avenge, antibiotic-like, a chaos of voiceless, terrorist bacteria. We are constantly molested by this boredom, and our blood made to boil with this tragedy. Ask your doctor if war is right for you. Side effects include laryngitis of dialogue, back-burnering of hope.......

"So we discover that our acknowledgement, respect for and alignment to the wisdom of Steiner's remark that Christ uses no coercion whatever, places limitations upon the degree to which internally corroborated intuition can be "presented", "packaged", "marketed", "made appealing", "made believable" to those who equate time and time again intuition to belief, insight to opinion, and thus blurred, find no discernable axis of crossover between what is subjectively arising and what is but personal, owned. In a certain sense, the very associating of the emerging probe-talents of metaphysical-stethescoping, or modern-day-water-witching to realms of non-allegorically impregnable concepts and metaphors insults the integrity, literalizes the scope of spiritual-scientific-investigation, and fills one with recoil!

"Having spent, as many of us here, several months being bathed in the addictive mockery of the motley WCO, whose members range in level of emotional maturity somewhere on the spectrum of "sincerely discenchanted", to "woefully-malicious", Earlyfire has noticed one common ferocious umbilical cord wrapped round each one of their necks, and this is an implicit unspoken collective terror at even the CONTEMPLATION that there is indeed an 'experientiable' self-inspired accountable spiritual path which implies human participation. Heedless of this, I see them all as smugly sailing away on a modern day lifeboat-challenged maiden voyage on the North Atlantic on the USS Lazy-Boy, and up ahead three icebergs: Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. Gashes in their egos, waiting to happen. The abandoning of sacred-self-delusions like the worship of the triple-beam-balance, and the reduction of the status of empirical science from a worthy and reliable religion to 'merely' a useful tool, somehow entails for them a  "court-martialling, a debrassing, a ripping off of the buttons of self-respect"; bordering upon  humiliation, and all because living within the presence of metaphysical potencies and voices and influences to which we acquire wondrous connection presupposes awe, reverence, modesty, metaphysical trust (=faith), qualities which they imagine interfere with their freedom, with their right to flood the airwaves with blowtorch aggression and their blue-cheese melancholy, yang and yin reactions against discovering that chauvinism cannot turn them into Gods, and that disgruntled suffocates aspiration.

"As to the status of AP, methinks it creates a bridge not so much between church and state, between holy and worldly, between moral and utilitarian, but the possibility for the authoring of conscious correspondences between empirical and intuitive modalities of experience, and so foreshadows the time in human history shortly to come and fast upon us in a "cricket's hopscotch of but a few centuries", when these spheres can find like approaching circles on a venn diagram, a growing sphere of intersection. Bound up in the unfoldment, in the flowering of such a process, it seems that the balance between enchantment and responsibility, the flight of a redeemed Lucifer and the anchor of a steadfast Love creates a new dialogue which renders the outworn, moltable snakeskin, the paradigm of "rational vs. belief" an outmoded model, useful up until the end of Kali Yuga, yet, "suddenly" in the spark of but a swiftly-passing century, having become greyscale, unnegotiable, vestigial. Place it along with caste systems, behind the velvet ropes of a wax museum. And let us all dare to know that the shelf life of the church and state dichotomy is now out of date, and those who insist upon forcing the prolongation of a stale drama of a war between the two, are the ones who fail to see that Doctor Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde now comes in two flavors, Christian and Islamic. And that the insistance in the separation of the belief and acts, of hope and muscle, creates American People and the Global Corporations, and a government which rivals Janus. And, likewise, witness relocated 180 degrees of longitude like an about-face, that the aristocracy of corrupt mullahs, royal families and other middle eastern self-styled CEOs makes subtle, heinous blend with the American Mr. Hyde, well-disguised because it does not matter whether Red Riding Hood's "Grandmother" sports a turban, robes and beard, or well angled, well-padded, wind-resistant Armani suits and like the spirit of strangle itself, boasty silk neuces, for, pause to weep, and reminder of what we're here for - most people will draw conclusions upon the "Words the enemies of the human race wear". You have heard of color blind. We are all deed-blind, deeds which clothe purpose, and are unwilling to dare infer motive from the surface.

"Yet, all this having been said kneeling, still, not to drink too much at this well. 'Tis the work of angels to dissolve intrigue, to flavor the air with rising thoughts and to canopy the halo which round us secretly glows, with brace of widespread majesty. For the Lord of the Sea of Dreams comes at night to each friend and enemy: both He turns to child, both She embraces, and dissolves the raging metals of the world, and backstage of the eyelashes in the place where place turns to haunt, and words to waves and tides, we are indeed all privileged, and instructed in the arcane subtle art of innocence; and it is said by whispering alone, with most unserious sublime ambrosia, makes locksmiths of any of us whose oberbricked thoughts by day imprison and dismay.

"Please have your Elysian Eurail passes handy when the conductor passes this way. Next stop, Afghanistan."


#17
(11/15/01) Spiritiual responsiblity and Steiner

"The difference in spectrum of interpretation regarding expectation and disappointment of gurus and disciples, of RS and the society, speaks directly to the comparison of Co-dependence and Interdependence, which are, methinks, in turn octaves, or overtones of a more fundamental distinction between group-soul and the individuality which emerges freelance, to at long last responsibly author karmic "goes round" and analyze the corresponding karmic "comes round" from it at the expense of safe, socially-acceptable blind forms of loyalty to moral, cognitive, and volitional sphere, no matter how lofty these may be.

"Don't follow Earlyfire off the Pied Piper's cliffs on this gust, but it seems altogether as "supernatural as intuition itself", to infer that hierarchies rejoice, are pierced with the ambrosia of joy at the manifestation of our own human, home-spun, down-home moxie which feeds them, nourishes them copiously each time either an individual or a group assumes conscious, loving, courageous responsibility for siring in clarity dreams, imaginations, thoughts, feelings and initiatives down on bronze and green earth, "south of the subtly-sparkling ether" which bear consequences of beauty to both visible places and invisible
haunts................

"Those who are willing to assist the perfection of the universe, will "automatically" pay back Steiner for his sacrifices with each deed which sports a breath of detachment from mere appetite, habit and craving, and rises above flatline and redneck, and the safely-credentialled anaesthesia of the lazy "That's the Way we've always done it", and the tedious echo of the medieval "We can do nothing", called "History repeats itself", as though history were an 'it'.

"Pardon the forest fire.............

"(Coming attractions, Sherwood foresters, students of radient asymmetry, amorphous caress, sundry undatabasable tides and outlaw Anthroposophists! To analyze the Goetheanum's reticence, its complete inability and terror in regard to how to be a muse, to conjure, to invite, to make happen the emergence of the energy and ambience which shall sire into real topography the other two circles of the Free School of Spiritual Science, which dwell outside of the imprisonment within the dark, crisp 90-degree angles of the "Emperor's Attache Case".

"And to respond to it in a way which does not begin with words and end with words. For in the case of these circles, the primary distinguishing characteristic of the intent and quality of ambience native to the metaphysical exploration, is that co-dependence is unworthy, is exiled at even point of departure, and so require anchor of trust yet flight of genius, of manas, to author original vocabulary, 'unowned', 'unrehearsed', 'unfranchised' by bastions of centralized power.

"And so brings to mind, sings to mind, the voyages of the sorceror Ludwig van Beethoven as he singlehandedly, and altogether deaf to the world, and without the help of any 'how to' manual, any lament over how the unavailability of Spiritual Science to coach him to the flame-crowned stars and the midnight-kissed caves and luminous sea-bottom alike, crippled his scope and fire, proceeds nonetheless unassisted by volumes of books and lectures to author musical architecture which both invites and presupposes a vast elongation of attention span, as in 6 late quartets, every movement of each is a remolecularization, a reincarnation, a discernable permutation of a single four-note germinal motive......... You may now safely remove your fingers from the electric outlet)

"For regardless of whether one needs to be inspired by remorse, is inspired simply by a woe-less invitation to perfection, the welcome lightbouse is ever lit."


#18
(11/27/01) Tell me...

"The first snowflake of the Christmas season,
and since it debuts in Cherry-Pearl,
therefore must compose it in A major..........

"Thought benefits by being multidimensionally clothed, which is to say, achieves a more powerfully nuanced orchestration and subtle expression through the spontaneous genre of the Oral tradition. Voice writes better than pen, and people make better pages, better lakes upon which to entrust islands of words, better pages to cradle a message than square paper ever dreamt........

"But when you deliberately chill thought from considerations of the intimacy of spontaneous delivery, steal thought from its messenger, suddenly the quality and sincerety of the ideas to be shared and assessed are no longer available, are divorced from considerations of performance, and enjoying the privelege of such abstraction, made immune to gesture and the intent which it carries, find aloofness, find sanctuary and escape from immediacy, living in, if that indeed is what words and thoughts amputated from living contexts still can do, - giving it the benefit of the doubt -  living in a language of symbolic experiential distance, then comes also the opportunity to concentrate ideas, reworking them, transforming them beyond the storm of the theater the turbulence of the Haphazard Now which shares them into the wider circle of the audience.

"The message is a reflection of the author. Both Mozart and Beethoven were masters at improvisation, made pianos their airports, but, in the perfection of their thoughts, in the entrusting of the river of music to a stream of ink within the imprisononing of a riverbed of barlines, Mozart records ideas which historical accounts corroborate were composed without any intervening reflection between the dream and the finished product, whereas Beethoven amassed numerous sketchbooks, which chronicle time after time, that his act of descending, (the verb!) of de-celestializing musical themes which found their way into more concrete harness of sonata architecture often evidenced a reworking through which they were brought to perfection by subjection to 12 or 15 levels of revision. Brahms, by his own account, trashed over thr course of his lifetime over 60% of the music he wrote, and none of this reached our ears. Rossini composed in bed, and is known to have preferred
to recompose a page of orchestration to getting out on the floor and picking it up.

"So the creative process which births significant thought, descending, alchemically coagulating the will-of-the-wisp that, brainstormlike, floats in lucky meander in lofty ether, companion to roar of angel flutter, and 'descends' it into concrete form, the way in which the Morning Star's jewel achieves exodus, landing fresh immigrant from empyrian heights, with each new art work midwifed in the creative process, and, lands gloved in Grail, plays an important part in deciding whether spontaniety is a better or poorer focus for assembling self-expressions and anchoring the enchantments of Lucifer into the embrace of responsible art.

"Earlyfire prefers performing, 'conjuring' Shakespeare and Mozart in the volatility, in the elasticity of the oral tradition, and thinks privately that any thought which does not, upon subjection to the raging crucible, again the lyric meadow of performance, profit from being subjected to the reverse process of the deed of the Christ, which would be the Flesh made Word, is somehow incomplete, remains deaf, inert, does not become "offer-uppable", hearable back to the hierarchies, but lies like the peasants say of Arthur, sleeping, which lies, like any uncredentialled child will delight to tell you, like Sleeping Beauty, staring up on high through a glass coffin, 'as yet unLazarused', which is to whisper, awaiting Prince Charming. as in, for example:

""Oh for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention. A kingdom for a stage, princes to act, and monarchs to behold the swelling scene (Henry V, prologue)

"Therefore, beware written messages stillborn, dis-graced, unawakable, imposters, seeking to influence, seeking to be honored by being called art, but decapitated of breath, robbed of the right to ride, to soar high-saddled upon the wings and sweep of the wind, and instead tedious and chore-dinary, lackluster, fill the press releases of those with agendas.......

"Thus shall we, rainbows turned nomad as the very Northern Lights, now lightly roaming in your neighborhood, do stir, do singe the glass fires of the ether, offering braid, putting spin and tread on the singing planets themselves........."


#19
(12/6/01) Music right here--Re: music born of the spirit

"The term "Dead White Males" is most archival, stillborn cardboard, most tedious, ungemlike inventory. Can we not vibrationally reformat it, moving further East than sorry Eden, and waging Noble Jihad, perchance by an eyedropper of such spiritual supernova, to enhance with soul of spark most mustardseedlike, with your consent, give birth, awaken mirth, and this to do with but frail power of our own home-spun
"Non-industrial flavors of light and magic." Therefore, to meet these post Halloween-like chords firsthand; to strumlike drink their floorless sea, inspire, go source a bonfire, brew up aromatic coffee, and making of our means your ends, saddle up on the wind, friends! Han Solo, be no longer frozen, neatly ziplocked in carbonite, no longer mercurially challenged, inert, devoid of flirt and flight.  Area code 777:
Let us ring up Luke Skywalker on the Akasha Cell Phone, and reformat the DESCRIPTION of the dawn with the INVITATION to experience it, such imaginative Lazaruslike upgrade being altogether sparkling and unaccustomed as the Shroud of Turin blowing in an Ancient, Well-favored Atlantean Breeze altogether,,,,,, unrehearsed

"Then Prelude your snowy 2001 Christmas Carol, my little Ghost of "Neither Death, nor suffering nor grieving etc., usw, shall there be, ...... for the former things nave passed away. " Include in the alive and vibrant voice of the Human race, buoyantly, imagination dares suppose -  floataceously,  serendipitously bathing the ether round Future Jupiter in an etherically luminous canopy of iridescent Manas Crown Light
already sourced by genius, O future Alladins to your own Genie within, include among the now alleged 'grave and gravity-free humanity' to which we already aspire to belong, some of those selfsame "former Dead White Male De-Composers allegedly passed away". Allegedly Dead, that is, if you ask the priest, and note he is wearing the ever-popular, mood-creating throwback color of a cheery bat-black human-double-hued robe. What shall we infer fom this? But now, less morbid, more peachy-keen be:

"Steiner bids us take him up on his invitation to talk to the dead. This being the case, firsthand conversation with alleged mortal-hasbeens might compel a more jubilent interpretation as to their current psychic whereabouts and ambience, than officially endorsed parameters of modesty gleaned from reading from the Book "Knowledge of Higher Worlds colon: How may it be Evaded?" might suggest. The point: Not to confuse Goethe with the Goetheanum, or the Fall of Man with those of us whose lives wish to ANSWER,  to boldly, as in the Most Untheoretical Christ, the World-Doer, CONTRADICT that condition..........Metaphysical Gaming Casinos just up ahead.

"Enlightenment: we used to think of it as encapsulatable, harnessable, within the book-binding parameters, happy in an 8 and a half by eleven room, well-endorsed, well bathed in permission of reason. One nation, "Under Reason",as it were, but strange to say, though analytically bladed, still stalled at the Gates of the Stars, labyrinthed, in sight of the Minotaur, compressed out of heaven, and thus temporarily made
straight-and-narrow-jacketed, made safe from invasive imagination:

"Meanwhile follow this gust:
Some weird Persian prophet who claims to be the return of the Christ, without even asking Rudolf's permission, and from whose 20 years imprisonment emerges the 100 books and tablets of the Bahai Faith, whose world headquarters curiously, and of course totally accidentally sits atop Mount Carmel in the Holy Land, makes a statement in the "Seven Valleys", the book of initiation sourced for the Sufis around 1853 that
"Knowledge is the last plane of limitation", and that having ascended to higher climates, such as Unity, Contentment, Wonder, and True-poverty-and--Absolute-Nothingness (7),  the seeker "breaks the cage of the body and begins to consort with members of the Immortal Realm".........included among which are perhaps even Dead White German-Speaking Males who spawn key signatures..........

"Oops, Wrong discussion group: Pardon Earlyfire's mysterious pearllike distinction-softening blur, it's such sloppy thinking to presume that all religions are the clothing of reincarnating wisdom, and that the Boddisattva can be redefined in any age in terms appropropriate to the level of responsibility and clarity which reflects what powers, talents and metaphysical muscle the human race has perfected up to this point in time, and so, we try this fully-refundable definition on for size, that the Bodhisattva is known for the ability to silently embrace, rather than publish on HBO his oath, to champion and to manifest, shoes off on holy ground, such Oath most silent which, strange to say resounds the loudest in realms to which only a Beethoven is not deaf! Sorry for the Rhino Attack! Moving right along!

"A few years later assuming that Bahaullah was utterly wrong, comes RS and as intuitively saavy to the handwriting of the Wind, makes a point to define, rather, one thinks, if one really wants to be responsible, to "Non-define", to in fact, metaphysically parole Thought Itself, ennnobling it with something close to this idea: "Our goal in meditation is to reach a state where thought is freed from objects of thought",
(De-materialism-ization as a Prime Directive. Kirk Out)

"Thought turned from a collection of things, ownable abstractions, commodities well constellated and alphabetized, which we, as Egyptians were bereft of such lofty option, commodities which 'jam-pack and chock-full' our universities, in ifs and therefores, packaged of knowledge, but, through the living muse of ethereally-saturated consciousness available in meditation, or in the process of poesis, by which we preangelic midwives generate art, marry Heaven and Earth, poesis, an act meditation will-inscribed in sarcaphagus of language, and then kissing the language, the breath of God is once again released, and like atoms unfroze, reenchanted, quickened, metaphysically levened, and we ourselves are 'Lazarused' back into processes "most 'Music of the Sphereslike'  " ;-D

"Now, Earlyfire, Sybillike, grabs his Phantom of the Opera Horsewhip and yells "Sing!, Think!, ride this surf!, pass go, collect your Immortality! Abandon "Pass Not", Rather practice instead "Be with Us!! " And softly hears, blurred as pearl: Hierarchies to Man: Hierarchies to Humankind, to men of shoes, to women of wings, perfectly chorepgraphed: It is our intention to include you in Our work! Lucky Saggitarious and
a side of Shakespeare: "I shall shower welcome on ye: Welcome All!"

"((( (And tiptoing, has 'in mind' this gust, this approach to thought: That our spirits, by such bravura made guiltless do invite unto ourselves the responsible privelege, which is to say, the lofty freedom to roam the macrocosm on our own recognizance, free to ask for ourself, Kabalesque-like, to interview the Living Numbers to "Tell Us", to spill their beans, and Consciousness Soul-Like, reveal what they processes
they host, imply  and underwrite........)))) Coming attractions

"Regarding the Legacy of the Fall of Mankind, and of Punctuating Blame to lifelong shatter the child's peace of spirit, and of Forgiveness, Artesian Sourced, and rounding caresses to deblade, dissolve the wounds of previous races of mankind, and offer rise, present the alternatives: The Medieval Death-frocked priest, rejoices like velour, to utter the word  "Solemn", yet, twas not so long ago one of those presumed Dead
White Males set to music an alternative to this pall: "Freude schoene Gotterfunken". And so we therefore know we are lurking in the celestial environs of Lucky Sagittarius and so encounter Beethoven's warning slash invitation like a prince charming, who introduces  in the 4th movement of the 9th, to we, a Race of Lazarus, a new impulse, which makes human voice part of the symphony:

""O Freunde nicht diese Tone"........ which enables us to, like My Full Fathom Five Father gone before me, to morph, pearl and corallike, into something rich and strange........... Major Keys do I hear?, and the twining smell of rising cinnamon to braid and haunt our holiday coffee, to unlackluster the ambience, to tune stars, (Sound of children laughing, so too, Easy Wind and Downy Flake)

"Now you are really ready to begin, Earlyfire!: This is what it has all been about! Up and say it!

"When someone asks you who your teachers are, it should not sound in any way farfetched or extraordinary to reply in the present tense "I study with Mozart", who knows what the emperor does not - which notes need to be included and excluded ere the descent by earthly parachute to the place of debut. Or to say "my piano teacher is Vlad 'the Impaler' Horowitz" . If one takes Steiner's voyage of thought about talking
to the dead as an invitation to become, while "still mortally incarcerated", let us conjure from the 'hood of the Vasty Deep, (conjure, then think, if literal thought be not in this noble and magical context but a redundancy), and wandlike spell it out, and whispering, voice a metaphysical Kruggerand "Celestial Mariners" All this as has been aforementioned, while allegedly Trapped in Biology and Chemistry and
Physics, "Erroneously perceived by Spirits Above as but drunkards of instinct and desire and authority"

"Footnotes to the subject of the post, Music born of the spirit: Let it not have to lurk backstage of closed eyelashes, for in this Age of Thrive, when we have made death a messenger of joy to thee, we dare close most scientificially, and with one word "Therefore" to make locksmiths of us, to tutor us in our way out of Plato's Cave: Therefore descends a few pegs south of the mind's eye, to the heart, and is renamed Courage, and it was in this way, great grandchildren, that your dark ancestors were able cleanse themselves with breath of detachment, so that their former inhibitions, skeletons and closets passed away........"


#20
(12/17/01) Thank you !!!

"Let's all send Thundrous-THX-surround-sound-an-Atlantis-sinking flood of hearty, robust  weapons grade "Ghost of somewhat Merry Christmas Future" cards to the WCO's.

"So to dilute their rancour, so to dissolve, dispel  with our own brand of unsolicited unwarranted AP Good Humor, the Winter of Mr. XXXXX's 
Discontent, and all manner of redneck envy which follows funereal-like in its wake. Yes, a veritable SuperNova of Well-Harmonized Chorale 
'freshly-ferocious'd ' from the College of the Sun, containing the collective cyber-mirth of all of us WiseMen, WiseWoman, and WiseGuys on 
the Ark, calling a truce, and apologizing for thinking which we acknowledge most contritely does mightily interfere, like an earthquake 
would the work of a diamond-cutter, with the solemn business of preventing communication."


#21
(12/17/01) Soul Purification

"Thanks for this excellent "48 Hours walk-through of Kama Loka". Your visualization resonates with experience,'generates oxygen' (forgive the 
seemingly strange metaphor);  it "abundances" the presence of inspired, conscientious steadfast responsibility. By way of photosynthesizing an 
encore breath, I wonder what life will be like when we, as individuals, acquire with growing frequency, the ability to make quantum-level-leaps 
during the day into realms of celestial awareness which enable us, bathed in sublime perspective, to intercept, watch, even transform our 
motives and so acquiring a grace to purify them 'en-passant' at the moment of encounter in the heat of conscious life, begin to author deeds 
whose intent is evident to us at the moment we source them. What would this do to our evening homework, as well as to a transmutation of the 
nature of Kama Loka itself, where it might became possible to work out of invitations of freedom rather than compulsions of necessity. A time 
when we assimilate impulses to altruism to the point of it being 'second nature'. Will this mark the beginning of an inability to manifest 
clandestine intrigues? An other word for peace......., and perhaps Socrates would rejoice to overturn his 2400 year old verdict "Life is a 
long Illness"  Footnotes to "A new heaven and a new earth"? A Utopia born not of arrival in zero-gravity, but instead out of our ability to achieve, maintain, inspire ongoing balance between anchor and flight, a balance of imagination and love."


#22
(12/18/01) Hi

"And now, a most unbladed weavelike waft of altogether drumless XXXXX'sIncense, XXXXX'sowncense - - - -

"Now we know pre-zeiss-ly when we shall meet again, in thunder and lightning of this, comma, the Ark Drama Queen's Reign.

""Therefore",   An altogether Royal Welcome back, Mysterious, Tempestuous one!:  And may a face of soft white gold flame, swirl-spiced, well-choreographed, slightly etched and lightly blurred upon a borrowed page of a dark green sea be upon you, together with a side order of abundant, abiding and eternal peace.........."



#23
(12/22/01) Lord of the Rings

"Can we rephrase, so as to reveal the intention: The value of suffering and of sourcing, sorcerially sourcing Mythology,  (it's not just to pay off the Ghost of Past Tense, you know), suffering's   not only there to encourage forging strength of will to acquire what enables us to endure circumstance, the charm and wiles of the world, but to reveal the presence of Beauty and Purpose, which war obscures and thwarts. Circumstance, however enmeshing, is but the veneer, the epicenter of our spiritual condition, the clothing of our lives wove in rock of events of and sea of feelings and air of attitudes, and meeting these three, which are as raw material, awaiting Prince Charming's Kiss of Fire, whose name whall be called choice. Therefore, one imagines Tolkein's initial impulse to write the Lord of the Rings for his son,  is not for panacea or consolation, or in any way an attempt to reset the HG Wells odometer back into a golden age, dissolving slings and arrows presently outrageous, but rather an 
offering of the restoration of a dialogue which war has thieved from us, the dialogue between what is ominous with intrigue, and that which rises to meet it, majestic, unalloyed with craving, and paroles us from the many genres of imprisonment which follow in its wake. The word 'Glad' comes to mind.

"And in this sense, Myth focuses, bears the call to reawaken, to bridgebuild between realms, to coordinate a relationship between thought 
and imagination, perhaps, even one might even be tempted to surmise, between "particles of thought and waves of imagination", enabling, 
inviting, abundantly welcoming the would-be initiate, the youngest guest  to traverse the gulf from Sullen Earth to Jupiter, casts us into 
roles which revealing, better, in life of will courageously descending, entering into the relationship between war and hope, and, Myth has a 
share in enabling us to forge our voice, and so become an architect of the a new relationship of the world of "As is" to the utopian "As-If". 
How to detheorize Myth, rob Lucifer of his canopy of anaesthesia in which he has held in 'most favored customer status' far to long, and 
instead crystallizing the scope and energy of story, into challenge, and sturdy up endeavor, as it is said in the poem "The Hunter" to make us 
"Seaworthy for Love"; all of which Is another sublime footnote to what we've all been thinking lately, and which enjoys wide whisper:  "For the 
former things have passed away." You heard it first not here!

"For it is clear that all of us live in the MeanWhile circumscribed by the subtle boundry of "the once and future king".  Examine the Staff of 
Hermes. One snake to descend, gloving in fire, then unglowing air, than cradle of water afloat, then this too, like we, heirs to the fall, the 
waters collapse to firm and frozen earth. And after the clearing of the mists, the other snake, Jack's Beanstalk, Jacob's Ladder, the Gradus ad 
Parnassum, and through such grades which milepost the "impossible quest", named impossible only to ward off the charlatans, the frivolous 
and the decisionally unripe among us, the Once King becomes the Future King. Gradually, Gradually, Gr'al. We have it on authority most Akashic, 
that these were the indelible and flightborne thoughts most Michaelic, which Arthur has, present tense, on his mind, sufficient to wrest 
Excalibur from a Stone.

"Transformational creativity, the work of initiation, dare we hazard, or even halfhazard a guess, as to the gist of its lofty treadless 
agenda? Perhaps, to begin the Sea-Change manual, it equates to developing an idea of what it is to author responsible, architecturally 
sound, aspirationally earnable individualized paths to de-locksmith the doors of the Lesser and Greater gated communities that count, and round 
us in sleep still widely wrap, like a cocoon and we the butterfly, such as in Mozartean Ecstasy (the zero-gravity entrance to the Macrocosm, and 
we all weaponless) or Shakespearean Soliloquy (Microcosm, the emerging art of enduring weight, the knowledge of the Crown of Thorns, the 
ability to endure silence and distance and chill, warmth-armed from within)

"But no more can we say. Bury your watch, turn its crystal face to the earth, and gaze into your ancient hourglass, in which you can see time. 
Now haunting midnight passes through her isthmus. And who dares explain why for one moment the sand becomes astonished, paralyzed with spike of 
fresh and thriving wonder, and like you, well gyroscoped one, refuses to fall, and  suddenly look up, you Midnight's most loyal Citizen, and see 
the sun shining.

"Three and one make four: Gold, Frankincense, Myrrh, Fable upon your shore and so together weave.  And asks what other tricks have we up our sleeve?

"Welcome to Bethlehem, dear Friends!"



#24
(12/23/01) no whine before its time

"From a karmic standpoint, the thoughts which create moral disintegration, suspicion, manipulation and intrigue, cry out to echo 
into the economic and physical sphere of nations and groups, in order to present and to mirror back to people a comprehendable scenario of the 
depravity, hopelessness and interior squalor which sourced it. It is not to punish, but rather to reveal. For the spiritual chaos is the source 
of danger to survival in or attainment of immortality, i.e. a condition of majesty, purity, beauty, trust and other halo-bathe of many-petalled 
virtues a swirl.

"On another plane, if the country consists of a collection of people whose behavior manifests a palette of marvellously endowed, 
transcendent  spiritual attributes, such as the Hopi, then the challenge is to invite the development of will by entering into and engaging the 
challenges of the stream of time. Recall Quran "God has beneath his Dome of Glory, a People whom He hideth in the clothing of radient poverty"

"How to recognize and build from the strengths..........."



#25
(12/23/01) Lord of the Rings

"I am at a loss to see time and time again the equation of Anthroposophy with the totality of Michaelic Initiative that ever could be. Isn't it 
incredulous to imagine that a metaphysical school whose capacity to life conscious comes from spirits one to three eschalons above Human Ken, and to us therefore most UnCanny and exalted, whose entire thinking processes are sublime, which is to say, are unlike our own frail 
projections, already completely free of objects of thought, would have no operative potency in the lives of people in the world without the 
tedious encumbrance of our membership lists, neatly symmetrized, and dutifully organized, and our newsletters. Isn't there anyone in this 
world who suspects, (cheers, swallow this pill, Alice, come a little closer, looking glasses are more than then seem! )  - that  Organization 
is an Ahrimanic abasement of the word Organicity. To discover Organicity compare news to art. Artists author works, which are not the servants of the the literal, of circumstance, but bring doen each artwork, unique architectural integrity, ether-engraved, (as all chelas aspire to); each masterpiece is the equivalant of a reincarnation. The impulse to sabotage the responsibility of the manifestations of spirit by 
superimposing conformity, by labelling, "I am an Anthroposophist", "I am a first circle member", I, a Unique Rice Krispy (singular! ;-)) swearing fealty to the Kellogg Group Soul Archangel, may you, like Texas, 'love it or leave it', this is judgmental hence retrograde blowtorch blare, truth to tell utterly boring, an anaesthesia to open-mindedness. Americans are in love with magical packaging. SUV's perched, eaglelike 
on the needle spires of Canyon de Chelley, the sound of Indian Wind, none knoweth.........

"Besides, by Steiner's own admission, Michael is concerned with enzyming human intelligence in such a degree of transformation as renders it 
"Cosmically-Compatible", i.e., useful food, hearable music, evolutionary leaven to both the Hierarchies above , and Earth below. Which makes us 
worthy bridges, ferrymen across Lethe in the Goethe Marchen.

"No, Earlyfire thinks not that it is Anthroposophy which, enjoying "most favored conduit status" makes Michaelic Initiative safe for the world. 
Anthroposophy just identifies, is one of many noble and resonant epicenters to challenge human inertia, an opportunity to identify, to 
source, to voice inspiration catalytic to world transformation, and is but one of many spiritual tools along an entire spectrum of depth and 
responsibility, one of many kindred spiritual movements possessed of sufficient purity - guileless, that's the secret! -, and possessed, 
through the quality of its practicioners, of limitation-shattering granduer we call hope, and so become capable of epic-magnitude agents 
threefold-level changes. Social, Economic impulses, the virtue of Rosicrucian clarity, of gem-cut quality bladed Jesuit command of reason, 
and opposite to this, though not opposed, the impulse to manifest courage, to bear the cross of Manichean transmutation of Evil, to which 
we in America must add in a new dimension of rejuvenation, the role of Science Fiction, Mythologically potentiated to populate the emerging 
Manas, to "Prince-Charm", to "Lazarus" (yes which now, courtesy of a wholly unauthorized elasticity of language, has been canonized a 
verb!),  "to Lazarus" the sleeping world imagination from abstraction's cobwebbed attic where the chakric spinning wheels of Sleeping Beauty lay 
vibrationally mute, deaf to the music of the spheres, inert, servants of the "Bah-Humbug".

"And from the combined exercise of these initiatives, this far greater watershed of virtue and energy than can be helmed in but one Swiss 
Stronghold, one Swiss Spiritual Bank Account, we see before us, though is war to outward seeming that is the messenger of the change, the 
possibility of the eradication of all dogma, formula, prejudice, especially the bankrupt "History Repeats Itself Demon". Michaelic 
agenda:  the end of all reptilian chill in the 'life' of thought, for Ahriman cannot thrive in zeal and warmth and innocence, in unbridled 
effulgence of human light, in the perfume of love; that's why the Vampires all flee when morning comes. One Gem, many facets, faces, 
streaming teachings, all 'tomorrow-able teachings'. Love that word that invades concentration. Think I'll use it again! What do all 
'tomorrow-able' teachings share in common? Fiery optimism in the virgin original archetypal meaning of the word "Jihad", the crusade for the 
burning away of veils of "doubt and smug".  In this respect, well is it with whoever is capable of recognizing that Jihad seems an absolutely 
symmetrically perfect antonym for Terrorism, (echoes "virgin, original, archetypal" meaning of Jihad!), for we are not trying to obscure, numb, 
destroy the fire within, or chill the will by fear-based weaponry, visible or invisible, to make the world safe for mechanical forms of 
organization. And thus Earlyfire, eaglelike on the needle spires of Canyon de Chelley, lands his SUV. The sound of Indian Wind, of Saturn 
syllables, and for those who ride horseback upon it, all know its wither and whence.

"One final treat to alter the jigsaw puzzle, (and authors his own preemptive first-strike with this Surgeon-General warning: It is 
arrogant to imagine the thought that it is "just a matter of time" before all Transcendent and Noble mystery can rendered into a 
scaffolding of knowlege, and shrink-wrapped in metaphor, turn up on a Barnes and Noble shelf, as though Mystery were an impediment to a 
perfectly-functional machine. But enough 15 thousand pound bombs on fabled Tora Bora!  Recall Doestoyevsky's Crystal Palace)

"So, our dessert from the desert: Consider, the scope which resonates from one small paragraph of the still little-known Persian-Arabian originating Bahai Faith, which stethescopes in the most succinct way the role of Michaelic Intelligence just one component in a larger Manichean picture which Anthroposophy can by no means enjoy a unique franchise to claim its own. It begins in the paragraph starting below. But on a 'lighter' note, the founder of that faith, whom we all know because of our reverential connection to extremely informed sources "possessed of the doctorate", has, of course "no right whatever" to make the claim of being the return of the Christ, which he did do. He lived from 1817 to 1892. And finally the construction of an Institution called the "Universal House of Justice", the highest administrative organ of that faith which today sits atop Mount Carmel in Haifa, Israel, which will, one day be to the coordination of religions, what Switzerland is to Nationality, is probably just a purposeless accident, a frivolous miscarriage of metaphysical enterprise, and probably completely unknown to the hierarchies.

""The vitality of men's belief in God is dying out in every land; nothing short of His wholesome medicine can ever restore it. The corrosion of 
ungodliness is eating into the vitals of human society; what else but the Elixir of His potent Revelation can cleanse and revive it? Is it 
within human power, O Hakím, to effect in the constituent elements of any of the minute and indivisible particles of matter so complete a 
transformation as to transmute it into purest gold? Perplexing and difficult as this may appear, the still greater task of converting 
satanic strength into heavenly power is one that We have been empowered to accomplish. "

"Earlyfire looks forward to the time when Anthroposophy will seem less like a convent and more like a battlefield, when its swords are not just 
made of dreams, when those who cherish, champion, relocate it from the Elysian fields, and consenting to practice it become therefore as 
courageous as they are erudite, as capable of being touched as they are of authoring thought. Love, like the sea dissolving sandcastles in round 
caress of tide, makes unsuspected and most respectable sorcery, and brings power into equilibrium with mercy and justice. May your 
Anthroposophy come in unsuspected genres and flavors, and be heard from the mouths of strangers............."



#26
(1/2/02) India/Afghanistan/Pakistan

"Perhaps that the statue is a dolly wheel, and when one acquires balance, the wheel can come off, when the wherewithal to ride the bicycle unaided has come to initiate. Therefore, to creatively visualize the Buddha in Epic Grandeur, in cosmic scope, untethered by scale of rock, perhaps this is graduation to a more subtle form of Majesty, devoutly to be desired. And wondered if on Sinai, 'tis now time to rewrite
next to the nine companion laws: "Thou shalt set no rock gods before thee, once thou hast wrested free of image, and moved on to imagination"

"But now abandon the sweep: Exhale and weep: Therefore in some remote grotto, kneeling in the Garden, summons silence to bless, and whispers to self: Failing the once and future statue, our ability to conjure, which is most frail, the talent to carve for those of us who are not yet cosmic mariners, what enables in one spark and spike of wonder, one brief sighting, to join into the presence of the Buddha, and
recognizing the loss of a symbol which takes us out of standby, and penetrates us with awe wherewith to fluorish, this is tragic.

"Christ "Lord of the Elements", Buddha methinks, "Lord of the Ether", And twixt These Two, the rungs of the ladder, called Man, who journeys and midwifes in anchored elements, in charmed freeze-framed music of the spheres, Beauty amidst Terror, that one see, and beholding the two side-by-side, compare, and decide............

"One hears echos of what Steiner says, and if our Mariner's sails are tuned, continues to say, at the destruction of the first Goetheanum, how its flames must be internalized. And for dessert, a mysterious twist of phrase: "Should all the servants read and ponder this, there shall be kindled in their veins a fire which shall set aflame the world!""



#27
(1/5/02) XXXXXXXXX and others....

"XXXX, I have great respect for your ability to navigate epic, "spiritually wide-angle" points of view which traverse and coordinate diverse metaphysical streams adeptly crisscrossing the boundries of Orientaland Occidental, Conceptual and Meditative, Ancient and Contemporary ghettos, drawing out from such 'travel', as if by walking through the pores of walls, experience which profiles and communicates parallels in
thinking which are exotic because they are anything but obvious.

"Awesome, intimidatingly formidable a talent as this is, which years of conscientious reverenced-discipline have fructified still further, I pass on the warning my xxx XXXXXXX always says to me "Please do notthrow snowballs at the mortals". For often times I have felt while confronting the multileveled scaffolding of your ideas most chivalrous, a certain shadow of chivalry,- for want of a better word a 'Philosophical Imperialism', that they carry with them a certain burr of competitive swagger, which implicitly self-revels whispering, "You, grasshopper, must possess these prerequisites acquirable only by successful completion of the knowledge-base gauntlet of disciplines I most regally define, in order to author meaningful discussion, to be taken seriously. A variation of "We use only Kruggerands at this poker table!", or as the sign at the Old Tucson Movie Studio children's car track reads "You must be this tall to drive!"

"And had Earlyfire not the same hidden hubris by which he would dissolve the bones of the real world with Shakespearean Camphor and Rumi Drakkar, because he cant live in the spartan "As Is", and so secretly wages an ongoing and expensive war against "Get Real" (C.G. Jung: "we pay dearly for our creative fire") he would not be able to offer such an Achilles-Heel-Side counsel, which, truth to tell be never more than friendly joust.

"I wonder if St. Francis through such brave grind-stone-like turmoils and hobknob, collections of degrees, his aura bathed to a roar in floorless charm by scintillating, interviews with Iridescent Illuminati was finally, through such excellently-labored litany of dire exertion, able, at long last to acquire permission to converse with the animals. Or whether its already just a matter of Akashic Record that one of the Lilies like unto which Solomon was never arrayed whispered but a single walk-on-water word in his ear."



#28
(1/12/02) "Brave New Schools"

"I love this groping-in-the-dark way of attempting East West dialogue. It is bound to be awkward; trampling on the unsuspected vulnerabilities, 
on the white flowers in the other's garden undelicate. And so much built in expectation, implicit unacknowledged demands volcanically erupting as rage as everyone discovers that a sword slice of Islamic Jihad, hmmm.....how very how very Conquistadorial, what a 'terrible swift 
sword", how both would make wondrous opposing centerfolds in the "Cutting Edge" catalog. Yes, spice up your religion. Yes, opposing 
pages, separated into separate turf by just a couple of modest frail staples. So there they are, folks, each religion the candidate for being 
the shadow of the other, charter members of the black pot, black kettle club. Each, kryptonite to the other. A Cobra-Mongoose combo. Why settle 
for dialogue when we can have knee-jerk comes so much closer to the ideal of fast food and "just do it!"  Side by side, one message that 
reads from right to left, the other from left to right  ......my kingdom for a mirror........... and would make a wondrous addition to the   
"Cutting Edge" catalog. Do you remember:  "And we'll travel along, singing a song, s i d e   by   s i d e".

"So the Crusade and Jihad each come in two flavors, the Noble and the Double. Oval Office tales of Dornach-osophy.

"So visualize this thought, most hieroglyphically at that: that instead of polarizing opposites as a pastime, as a first choice to analyze 
ideas, to metabolize philosophical similarities and differences as if to tediously deposit notions upon the plates of a triple beam balance to 
assess the relative weight, as a criterion to convince, bless the visualization, and it at once sparks to imagination.

"And so Earlyfire imagines this:  A tree, concentric circles, and the inner ones are ancient, and the outer, the cambium of living thoughts whose cool upward-rising moisture we can feel when we place our hands upon the bark. And all the religions and earlier than that, philosophy, and further back than the ancient, the mysteries where wisdom was danced and voiced and lived in magical rhythm of the stride and dwelled in the warble of song, all that you see today, all the complex well-tuxedoed language that defines the famed labyrinthlike ghettos of medical, psychiatric, anthroposophical ghettos which prevent the peasant and the professor from embracing common experience, uncommon wonder, all-embracing love, all were once a single point.

"The Tower of Babel is not about fracture of a single language into diverse mutually-incomprehensible language, each rigid in its 
literalness. It is about the loss of the magical, allegorical common ground which unites the One Humanity in what lives between the lines of 
the written, the legal, and about the anaesthetization of the talents (Latin Taleo, to lie deep or hidden) of picturing imagination, riverrun 
of inspiration process, and gesture, pierce of intuition, which now "wish to reemerge" in human life. These are the luminous, majestic 
spectral gifts of awe and spice to which we have to look joyously forward to bringing back, each of us a Marco Polo, in our voyages across 
the Threshold. (As opposed, for example, to late-breaking clairvoyant Sybilline CNN rat-a-tat-tat, dysfunctional woodpecker chatter from the 
asteroid belt.)

"Anyone who affirms that Truth is Seamless, no