In Your Face-Book

postings by me to my main facebook feed
no particular order will be found here


Trump needs our love, make no mistake about it.

If there ever was a person, with such an extraordinary personal destiny, its him. Neither anti-christ or savior, but surely human, with a most marvelous array of appetites, dancing as fast as he can, on the f’n World Stage no less. Most of us would have to confess that on occasion we would like to be in charge of the button, be the actual leader of the free world, and an absolute darling of the Media, which - social or otherwise - can’t get enough of him - talk about talk about talk - lots of blah blah blah around a showman.

A figure angel-like to not a few, and the devil incarnate to almost all axe-grinders. America has forgotten so much history, and in the heartland of aryan northern-European farmers, and Latin-like Mediterraneans, dancing with Germans all becoming immigrant mill workers, and many good hard working folk who made the world stable, whose best sons died overseas, whose daughters worked in factories ... that history as living humus/soil, perfected by the Cosmic Gardeners, gives birth to all those star-seeds we call the sixties becoming the seventies,

... change so rapid, hanging on to farms, small towns, and open land living, means socially aging and eventually angry for being ignored, as to their “values”, Bloom warned about in “The Closing of the American Mind”, colleges now drowning in their own well dug graves.

The sparks ~!~!~!~~~ dancing to the new, rush to centers we call cities, and blue and red lose connection. In drama, like the omni-present Wolf productions of Law&Order, the death of a loved one in the big city too-often-common, and nothing can be done for such a loss. The cities eat the homeland, without noticing that we no longer honor aging folk, and prefer that particular “them” to become shut-aways.

Everyone deserves a hero, ... Clint Eastwood proved it a long time ago, as did Charlton Heston and John Wayne. Imagine your are trump, with a little “t”, and urges become caged (father sends us away), in a Culture with certain heroic men, including Hugh Hefner, and who do you model your soul after, in order to make experiments and explore life. Character takes a life to build, and ... well, you either know this, you who is/are reading it, or not ...

Does any son ever escape the sins of the father? Ask Jesus, and you will get the joke. All is forgiven, and homecoming a deep urge as life winds itself up and down escalating, unless good drugs lurk about. Is big T on some we don’t know about? Every single person running for office will have bad habits. Why are we surprised?

If we can be allowed to borrow from the metaphors of saint-of-football arts&crafts: Belichick, and his alchemist Tom Brady, seen-over by their patrons, the good at their Kraft-too family.

“Do your job”.

The NFL, Nascar, pro-tennis, Kennedy family-football, sportsTV&announcers, money needed to make possible: emotional expression and release of tension public displays. Lots of screaming and yelling be healthy, Shakespeare has his mobs, and wrote for them, while the Greeks made odes to catharsis from the watching of players/playing dancing and singing. Prison riots tho’, in cities, not enough sane releases yet though. Lots of steam built up. Too many fires burning, and there he sits, believing he is on top of all this shit: tragic fall in-place, and countdown counting.

Trump is just a naked harbinger of our own coming destinies, and other falling dooms, raining all over the Life Sphere of the Holy Mother, ... still dancing after all these years ... to the tunes of the Lord of the Dance ...

Its November, which has its own reflective Moods.   Bookends:


More: "Tales from the Collective Imagintion"
Chasing the truths about politricks ...

The Gods&Goddesses of Chance and Fortune - Old Ones, very old, weathered, full of Spring ... sometimes.

There are places where resides Temples to Wealth and Power, and boy have they got the architecture to prove it.

Then there is this guy who makes videos for you-'n-Tube, down to basics, ... making fire, huts and stuff out of dirt, plants, rocks, - things where there were none before ...
Earth Temple still dancing, even though Western Civilization has died trying to contain its enthusiasm for maybe eating its own Mother.

Then there's: Politricks, well we've had tricky Dick, and sly Willie, and now Liar Lair Hair on Fire.

I have the following on good authority that George Washington kept both female and male hemp seeds, and was our first active ganja-helped President, having been taught tea rituals Masonic.

Snuff, anyone?

Nowadays we have no idea what medicinal substances our politicians have/crave/need, us not demanding drug tests before we issue them a rifle with which to shot holes in our Constitution. The Underbelly of Hollywood has nothing to compare with the Underbelly of Washington D.C.

Dark are the secrets hidden in the heartless wills - the insane black hole/hearts - of addicts to power&wealth. Term limits anyone?

Hypocrites all, their Arts well described by the God many of them claim to honor: Matthew 23: 25-28:

"Woe to you canon-lawyers and Pharisees, you fakes, for cleaning off the rim of your cup and saucer while on the inside you're bursting with greed and wild appetites. Blind Pharisee, wash out the inside of the cup and saucer first, if you want the outside to end up clean! Woe to you canon-lawyers and Pharisees, you fakes, for being like dusty monuments that look pretty on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of corpses and all kinds of rot. You likewise from the outside appear to the world to be decent, but inside you're full of hypocrisy and ways around the law".

Turn our backs on D.C.? If you have to do politricks, Congress and State Houses are being rebuilt. Women need to run. Women with real-world accomplishments - actions and risks taken. Vote against the Past, and vote as often as possible for the Fierce Mother&Friends - there is nothing imaginative about poverty, illness, hate, and all its cousins and cosigns.


Social Chaos ... on the rise. More Tales from the Collective Imagination:

Revelations, a biblical source, talks of Beasts from the Abyss, and a Dragon or two - interesting choice of metaphors. The Hopi Prophecy anticipates the coming of an Age, called therein: The Day of Purification. John the Baptist says that He who is to come after me, will baptize us all in Fire and Holy Breath.

Each prediction is sourced in what might be called: The Dreaming, if we honor the subtlety of this term from the Aboriginal Peoples of Australia.

Rudolf Steiner, a clairvoyant with a scientific bent, said that in/around 1933, Christ will Return in a spiritual (non-material/invisible) realm Steiner called "the Ethereal".

We know the Ethereal as the: Where-we-are-when-we-think, if we do bother to think, something not so easy given the increasing heat of the Social Chaos. Lots of heads exploding in the news.

A science fiction/fantasy writer gives us Game of Throws, that too, from the Dreaming.

Most of us, who are surviving - and maybe already have survived middle age - are aware -
in whatever kind of Society we spent our youth -

that disorder there is on the increase, and many people, individually&with-others, deciding to follow their own insight, as against any social-codes, enforced with religious violence, crowded prisons, commercial slavery - work/conform or be homeless - etcetera ....

Western Civilization is collapsing from the inside/out, as can be seen by any
 observer not part of the problem, or intent on his personal wealth/status surviving this Fall intact. Baptism by Fire everywhere.

The Wild is in an Uproar, to be charitable, what with increased, vulcanism, hurricanes, species (bee) collapse, water shortages, and ...
maybe too many avatar-embodied folk-peoples can't actually be sustained in times where every petty tyrant, from a whatever class and kind of work, is busy getting his/hers hoard, at the expense of anyone over which they have power.

Overcrowding. Maybe the end of Western Civilization is the real Y2K, not the bad dream - the good dream. Maybe we are the Beast from the Unknown, having a millennial party, not wanting to miss out of dancing like no one is watching. Purification by Carnival. On a planetary scale.

Isn't Mother Nature the model of recycling?

Legends, which always have some truth at their roots, remind us that in that Lore the Story is told of Floods, wherein the World Weeps for our sins, and Atlantis becomes only a Rumor.
The three monotheisms drove out the older/wiser goddess religions, banishing their truths to the abstract idiocy called: paganism, ...

... Meanwhile in the never-left It-Reality, where there had once been a time where instead of "dominion over", human beings&Nature lived "in communion with". Another Earthquake needed to get your attention?

Yesterday I put some raisins and nuts outside, near a corner of our deck. Last Spring, in taking covers off of deck furniture, I found to my delight a cache of seeds, no doubt a gift from a busy squirrel.

I planted them in that corner of the deck, and from the mystery of the seeds appeared sunflowers, wildflowers, and shamrocks. We feed the birds all Winter, and those seeds were shared [with some banging on widows, accompanied by yelling, when the squirrels (being more earth than air) physically dominate the feeders], ...

a wonderful commotion incidental to our wants to attract the pleasure of their company, while the wise elementals (gnomish friends) in which we swim impart songs into my heart's thoughts).
My Lady seems to attract creatures, ... has since I meet her almost 9 years ago this Fall, and fell myself into her spell. Deer, coyotes (a family), Bear and cubs (couple years running), a vulture, wild turkeys, foxes, wildcats, ...

So I thought I'd maybe feed the squirrels at the other end of the deck this Winter-year, and see what happens.

The above was not a digression, for Social Chaos is about squirrels dancing, and free birds spreading the seeds, ... that is in the sense that human behavior mimics primeval sources, we being related and all.

She's Back, never really was gone, but folks got to understand Her Rules are much tougher than ours. If there is a Death Bringer Among Us, it is the Mother of the Cross Bearer, and She takes no prisoners at all.

Human Beings are not wrecking the Life Sphere on Her Watch, no sir, not at all. She can self/regulate Her physical avatar quite well, and thank you for caring. Still, time to wake up young children ...
Plus, She has the Advantage of Knowing Death is a Gate, and when we Fall She catches us, ...

... and, with the help of a Fisher of Men, some are set free over and over again in the secret sacred waters of life. Stars falling to Earth we are, dancing to drum and flute.


Tales from the Collective Imagination
More people killed. People dying ... and where possible someone should be blamed for causing that death. What's the Law for, if we can't exact our revenge?

If we change the scale of the what-is Happening-in-the-Horrible-Poetry-of-Gun-Violence, we discover that News is basically the most bullshit art ever foisted upon a folk. Guns killed lots of folks yesterday, not just what was inside the News ghouls back yard (how does it feel, when I stick my microphone in your face, offering you your fifteen minutes, and please cry or something, we need good film for television.)

Guns will be used to kill a lot of other folks tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow. Shit happens, and my karma just ran over your dogma.

Americans be good and clever, not always the same thing by the way, ... clearly unwise are the Ways of the News, which means we should get rid of them ?...? nope! For those who might choose to be so inclined ... News is to be eaten, digested, and spiritualized, before IT's poisons spread, a kind of hemorrhagic fever of the mind.

If you watch the News and do not feel your head boil, those be some righteous good drugs you're doing.

There seems to be a War in the Social Cyber Space, where the real trolls and spies are Facebook&Google&Company. Tag, they're IT. Sick, immature, dragons - who treat the world as a game of Risk, hoarding information, in exchange for giving to the Raging Against the Machine Artist in All of US - considerable possibilities for artistic expression - each person a star, many from another planet, but too many to know intimately. All the same, thanks for inviting me to be a friend, ... keep posting your Tales&Pictures, and have a nice day.

So many people, so much anger, the fiery mote in my heart, has to burn through the beams of dead thoughts, in order to accept that there are people in the world who just break ... their spirit just breaks. Watch a wonderful film-poem: "Wind River"

As to "gun violence" - it is a lot more simple to understand, for such truth's are around - such as in the latest darker tales of Upsidedowns and other Stranger Things. The Scary Dark rampages across our front pages and news networks, and that tentacled mind-warping News/hungry/army creeps into the back doors to all our minds. Who minds that gate in your mind, dear friend?

Yet, allegorical-wise, if we can remember when we were 11, and way above all the snot-nosed others, we danced saw/seeing in the fucked up heart of the world, determined to first escape, and then heal. Or not. I partitioned my own mind one day, under stress, but fought my way free. Twenty minutes of mindless calm, and leaving the seas of troubles to other mes, to guard the heart.

What does the Soul of a broken human being look like? What thunder comes with their fall into release? Are they perhaps drafted soldiers in inner wars the rest of us would not wish on a dead person?


Should Americans create a Third Party, called: Mother Goddess First? Not America first, at least as in Trump's America. When are we going to recognize, once more, that the Earth is THE Planetary Scale Living Being. That gravity is just another name for being loved deeply; and mass is not a god-particle, its The Goddess of All Parts surrendering to Her nature that will always catch us when we fall.

blood and wine: christ and mother dying for our becoming, or perhaps more accurately: we die, they die, until we don't want to die to the flesh anymore, and they again go with us ... the first human being was made of dirt, and goes from dust to dust ...

Blasphemy, of course. Stranger Things be going On. Grandmother Wars afoot. Tales of Cosmic Consciousness Stardust falling out of heaven and into earth.

The picture, "my Lady in November, or her way to Church", made for my latest extravaganza: Tales from the Collective Imagination:


Rudolf Steiner was not right about everything. Anyone thinking he was, has a serious problem. All the same, once you are stuck on “hymn”, there may arise separation anxiety if something more worthy comes along.

I’ve been listening to the Forest where I live. It would be difficult to parse Forest-thoughts in our intellectual languages, but we can feel an identify, and holding onto that sense of other-ness sharing the Planet with us, there can be that which resonates in certain forms of thought, inside ourselves, yet born/borne in the feelings of which we receive, if sympathetically open, to Her Multitudes.

There arises there/then a single question, beyond even the SecondComing/EtherealReturn of Christ. What about Her? When does She get to truly count? She never went away, and many of Her deeds are hidden from us by the quirk of Fate which caused Steiner to fail to divorce his thought from the over/under duality of good&evil.

The interior of the Earth is the interior of the Holy Mother, and there is nothing evil there at all. Nothing.

Clarke 2017 - - broached the subject carefully. I jumped of the cliff with - - a response.
Ask yourself this: What would Christ do? Dance alone, or waltz with Mom?

There is one fundamental scientific question, for which Steiner’s works on science, and the works of the Goetheanists, lays a wonderful foundation: Is the Earth a living being existing on a planetary scale?

I know, everyone buys into that, but doing something about Her Needs publicly, ... should we care? Environmentalism is a weak response to actually living in accord with Her, and Her Earth-bound friends, who feed us, share the air with us, form the skeleton of our homes, -- the Forest is inside my house, transformed yes, the wood, metal, all the tech - none of that exists except it is taken from Her Avatar Body, bought and sold like so much “it belongs to us, and has no consciousness or feelings about anything”.

There is a lot in a name, and the right idea. Who is the Earth? Who is the Life Sphere of the Earth? There are two existing living fully interpenetrating cosmic beings, and we can’t deny the Mother, without also denying the Son, who would not be there without Her.

Even in late November, I am comforted thinking with and within and as the local Grandmother Tree. Yesterday I caught her in the right light - see picture.

I wrote the following:

"we can see Her crowned in sunlight, and rooted deep to the earth, but still a bit of sun noticing This ---
this is November, and the leaves of bushes have fallen to reveal a neighbor's house, usually not visible in summer fullness.
"To our right She gestures to a line of trees planted by humans,
a Wall of Arborvitae that Waves at those of us, who sit in the meditation room, when winds aid their dancing in unison, a kind of living green can-can ...
"to Her right, our left, assuming She is facing us, but I suspect Her Roots know all Four Directions easily ...
anyway, ... to our left She gestures to the Forest Primeval,
providing a blessed balance between the Goddesses' Art&Crafts, when forced to be next to human attempts ... at the least the Arborvitae keeps the neighbors house out of sight, a benefit for good neighbors when possible"

For a large introduction to Forest, there is this:


Trump Thought

We need to keep in mind that the President is, to be kind, a man confused by his own lack of thoughtfulness. He is more performer/pretender, than a patriot. At the same time, the situation of the whole world, in which his Tale is a mere footnote, is everywhere dire. One more fool on the Stage of Modern History is - at best - a Sign that human beings are either in deep do-do, or a forced audience to the Tragic Comedy where the World Ends, both with a Whimper and a Bang.

For Americans he is not as dangerous as is our Commercial Major Media. There is no requirement that they continue their original folly, which was/is to give free air space to an idiot, as if this was News, but all the same the Media is trapped in its assumptions, that It (Media) is insightful enough even to Comment. Like the man himself, many can’t get from one sentence to the next without tripping over their own confusions, biases, and assumptions.

Trump thought is like the tar-baby in the tales of br’er Rabbit. Every time the Media punches the Trump tar-baby thoughts, they get stuck in his continual ability to control the Narrative. And, thereby, self absorbed in this junk-news-cycle, Media misses the real story ... a tale the American People very much need to hear.

Americans are not as thoughtless as is Trump&Media. If Media were to spend a lot more time giving us the thinking of ordinary people, there would begin to come into form the solution to all woes, even the worry/woes Trump’s base. What is that solution?

We just want to be heard - our thoughts, not Trump’s, or any other politicians, or Media talking head - our thoughts.

Americans are a community of people, who learned in the School of Hard Knocks and Shared Pain, that wisdom is to be had, if there can be an actual conversation among the different groups/tribes/ways of being. Americans need help in hearing each other’s stories. We are more alike than different.

So, only when Trump Thought and Media Commentary make room for us to speak, will we find our Natural Togetherness, amidst the chaos of politicians and TV talking heads, all acting as if they were the wise ones, instead of We the People, ... all of us extraordinary ordinary folk very busy making the wealth, and raising the kids - the Country does not run without us.


Long, proceed at your own risk ...

So, you’re a movie director, famous&rich, ... who knows or cares. Luc Besson. French. Loves women, as goddesses, shamelessly. Still the main attraction is the mysteries of differences. Your films are a dangerous and loving study of women. You made: Le Femme Nikita; The Professional, which gave us Natalie Portman at 12 years of age; The Fifth Element, with a fantastic artistic vision that shames George Lucas, who is more mechanical ... etc. etc. ... And LUCY!

... Then you get them - the money folks - to bet 180 million on your next film (actually a massive money consortium, watch the credits of Valerian carefully)

Keep in mind that a director is a magician, juggling many hats, although famous with helpful friends to make sets, and other film arts. Art does not always make a profit.

For a lot less money, with no fanfare, someone else makes:


... visionary as well, and has the virtue of, if you like remarkable films, you might want to add this to your collection.

Film, digital and otherwise, is the dominant art form in the age of the magic-lantern smart phone, and almost everyone uses this tool, dread pirate roberts included. With music&comentary as provided by that particular holder of their personal/stolen/borrowed Aladdin’s Lamp, firmly individualized/terrorized/salvaged/&cared about.

A weaving of personal arts&crafts photographic, so that what/ever/devil lives in Facebook&Google&Friends=builders getting rich, ... did they learn anything along the Way? ... still they helped imagine/codes-invisible, drum-roll please !!!!!!!!!!!!!

An Avatar-Body for the Noosphere. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (noticed it’s coming) "The noosphere is the sphere of human thought.” Wires-copper, earth-woven, with rays of heat across the living sky-dancing in glass. A body made out of parts of our Mother’s Avatar Body - She of the Hurricanes&Earthquakes. Weather no accident - just high level Karmic Arts&Crafts, each freshly minted/newly created drop of blessed Water follow paths of (see Clarke5):

NOW: ~!@#$~!~(&^~!~~~!~ the tale of the story in the film: Moontrap Target Earth:

A woman who dreams finds herself living in the dream.

At the outset references are made to two archaeological finds in the deserts of the American Southwest, suggesting that the second one - of those buried there - is perhaps an alien artifact, which naturally attracts the presently dominant tribe: the money-people,

- with the dreamer then hired to help, along with her “guy”, comes now discovery! ... And it appears that the second one was human in origin, and from (?carbon-dated?) about 14,000 years ago. Uncertainty has virtues.

The dreamer reads the ancient script found on the second Find, and dreams more of her own involvement. This Find first appears visually/symbolically as a slightly higher than a man white obtuse triangle, suggesting it is standing on something larger and still buried. The triangle-fin had itself been previously buried, but was no longer so. As in all such stories the excavator/dreamingofmoney, was seen - in the quantum entanglements of a black-holed bankers heart, as dispensable, therefore murdered.

The Find turns out to be a tail fin on a much larger ship which - when entered rightly - goes to the moon. There is violence and money people try to interfere. Someone/thing underneath the “fin” was vibrating, and its base was something quite unusual in a materialistic sense. Scene of scientific bafflement ...

Sometimes during the dreams, the dreamer experiences a second similar/woman, standing behind her, a helper/participant to her seeing.

The message of the ancient script on the ship, as read by the dreamer, is a kind of love letter to a lost love, who is "The Lord, my God". This is shared, by the dreamer, in a temple dominated by money changers.

The dreamer's earth-love is murdered, and she has to go alone/no-friends, in the ship, although force-ably accompanied by an obsessed servant of the money-people.

Keep in mind that visually much is done in the primary colors, such as red and blue. The dreamer, for example, wears red in different aspects of the dreams’ realization/manifestation.

There are two robot-like/servants, red and blue kachinas lets say - keeping to rich Southwest-Hopi language gifts, ... Two who help/hinder, and die and become transformed.

Once on the moon, the dreamer finds a large head/statue identical to the previously seen quite momentarily, at the very beginning of the film, in association with: We found this in the Southwest, & the question is: Who Is This? A good piece of Art that Head, best to see this stuff if you can.

The Head-on-the-moon too, as with fin and its ship, is the top part of a large buried columnar/hexagonal structure that rises from the moon's surface as the dreamer walks/journeys from the ship to the temple there, and sort of: turns it on.

Earlier the dreamer was given in dream a stone of ambiguous blue/starlight, which now becomes part of the moon dream as an actual object, and needs to be inserted into the Head's third eye/receptacle.

Once inserted, and once the moon-Head rises with the Temple as its base, a beam of light soars from the temple top, in cylinder-form inside which the head is enclosed, until a golden sphere of light appears in the sky, and then expands&descends, as a sphere of light, turning the moon, in a dream&notdream, to green, with-blue-white-cloud sky - like earth. The green fades into Moon, although the sun-like light in blue sky remains, and the colors of moon-stuff appear richer when bathed in this light.

The dreamer, followed by the obsessed man, enters the temple and finds therein the object of the love letter to "The Lord my God": a handsome youthful man standing still, surrounded by a curtain-cage(?) of vertical light bars, blueish white, to go with his odd/age-old/modest clothes, a lattice of kilt-like materials - Druid made perhaps.

Again, there is violence, and the obsessed man dies, after which his face is joined - in a kind of hardly living death, to/as the face of the Blue Kachina, which is about to lose its head. The human faced Blue Kachina threatens the dreamer, who tricks the clumsy robot into getting its human-faced-head chopped off.

This kind of detail, in a film is / comes from what? It exists. Someone made it. Look them up. Maybe they should make more films.

The dreamer sheds her "space suit", puts on a red dress the Red Kachina robot gave her and walks to the risen dais on which-which the man stands, and stands beside him - to his left, both facing the camera/spectator, ... she becoming clothed herself in a curtain-cage of vertical red-light bars.

The curtain-cage can be Read as the Mentality-Materialistic, a naive science - woven over humanity, in the time of Ahriman’s incarnation, to help with covering-over the religion of the old gods (the Earth Gods&Goddesses), and worshiping - abstractly - the new (the gods of self&Forge, all set on changing the Creation in an atomic-rush, at the same time denying the Son (the young man) and the Mother Remembered (the dreamer awakens).

Let us next review the presented tableau, in the “light” of Rudolf Steiner’s remarks regarding the future return of the Moon back into the Earth, and in the light of the Emerald Tablet: “The above from the below, and the below from the above - the work of the miracle of the One. And things have been from this primal substance through a single act. How wonderful is this work! It is the main (principle) of the world and is its maintainer. Its father is the sun and its mother the moon; ... “

The primary beings of earth and moon are drawn to each other in dreams, foreshadowing an Event: During the now/becoming time of the return of the divine feminine mysteries, the moon sphere must become again a temple, in earthly life, the original Goetheanum an example - although a Kiva works just as well - of a world wide process needing/aiding the coming escape from the enchantment of Ahriman, the Blue Kachina. The dreamer is helped by Lucifer (Steiner’s recognition of the role of Lucifer Gnosis - visit any Waldorf School), = the Red Kachina, although both die and are reborn.

The male/friend of the not quite recognized Dreamer, he who in the film's beginning frame/scene pointed toward the giant ancient-head (Steiner’s works re-illuminating ancient lore), has been killed by money&friends. R. Steiner had to die before the Dreamer could awaken, for without a “scientific” Way of Knowledge of the Spirit, the path for the reentry of the moon into the earth cannot be prepared.

Good&evil is to be overcome by the marriage of the ancient goddess wisdoms: mysticism&pagan magic, woven into/with/around spiritual science. That is the how and why the moon/mood sphere must return to the earth - science without ceremony and dreaming, fails to see all. Powers of ancient Magical&Mystical Lore come riding in on the Return of the Moon.

This is why the dreamer lives in/around/near enough to the American Southwest [Hopi Lore is that the mesas they settled on - that place was where the earth was first made solid], in order to find the ship, from the clue of the ancient wisdoms there, but it is a clue that goes back 14,000 years, to before the Fall of Atlantis. [See:]

The ship, all white, graceful, and potent as/ It .~!~. the Path-to-the-Mother:-as-remembered-in-the-dreaming, as the woman behind the dreamer, whose poem is the love note to “My Lord God”. The Path to the true/heart of ancient lore, not the Mother Herself. The Path of the Stone, whether Emerald Tablet, Hopi Stone Tablets~!~Broken, or the Foundation Stone, all are parts and no one ever truly stands alone. Foundation Stone to marry Emerald Tablet, = the starlight blue stone to be placed in the Third Eye.

The finding of the lost love is only possible when the dreamer, knowing the ancient tongues, goes to the moon, solves the riddle of the emerald/starlight stone, and then enters the temple to take her place beside the Son, herself transformed by her journey. It is not just: “Not I, but the Christ in Me”. It is also: “Not me-we, but the Mothers in Us”.

The final scene is of a small green plant, rising/growing/bathed in sunlight - not so much the Moon anymore, as the Moon begins its reentry into modern consciousness in a new Way. Can Wiccan’s go to Waldorf Schools, or should TheyThem: Hymmning, you know The Gods&Goddesses up the ante some more, .... Their Hinting, as with Trump, getting more and more Outrageous/Humorous, and Ironic in the Extreme.

There are travelers, knowing ancient lore. Did Steiner/Enkidu (the INcarnation of the KEy to the magics of DOing) meet a gypsy, or just a herbalist? Which Stream divides there - moon and sun - silver dancing shape changer, owns the Night on a regular basis. Carl Sagan’s Demon Haunted World is Real. Gosh, ... Damn --- We are In as gods&goddesses, old gods and the new-world. That world is magical, and dragons are real.

An endless loop, Mobius-like in time and space, never the same whenever a dreaming traveler becomes the tale as told & retold. Although, Steiner was limited by needing to artfully awaken spiritual knowledge without salsa-dancing&drugs. Intoxications have value, just be careful how far South you go in search of substances miraculous ... otherwise we get too far way from those growing points: Groots, in the dark beneath the surface of the Earth, on the Nights of Full Moons, where/when Fairies come out and dance and do magic.

The Coming Magics Are Winter Magics, when the Sun's Powers are beneath the surface activities, in the Below&Dangerous.

Look anywhere at modern Art, with an open mind, and the Return of the Mother is right there (the no longer hiding True Dark), in quiet accompaniment with the return of the Lord of the Dance: = Clint Eastwood’s characters in Gran Torino and Million Dollar Baby, having to invent the good, in the absence of any help from Christian priests

Why? Because we are the very Gods&Goddesses reborn in flesh, in the last stages of the 70 x 7 lives in the most perfected instrument/avatar-bodyofMatter, ... Last Stages before the Earth Herself gives up the GhostlyEthereum (Valerian as dreamed by Luc Besson) to join some-we-hope-all who make it through the maze of the soul, and find themselves then on Vulcan-only-as-LivingLight, ...~!~!~

... instead of living in@ caves, in the ashes and charred bits of the once upon a time: formerly living/earth/ash&rock sphere, in the care of Red and Blue Kachinas-mechanical in nature, for a living avatar body will be impossible when the Moon rejoins the Earth, and its held-back for-a-time powers release all of magic&ancient lore to perform the Miracle of the One.

Going down, means going up. We be earth becoming moondy on the way to lighting/sun, and everywhere warm.

MSaturn, Sun, Moon, Earth; Emanation, Creation, Formation & Existence; as well as the more ancient: Fire, Air, Water, Earth; or: Will, Intellect, Feeling, &= Conscious.OONTRAP TARGET EARTH. Reverse the course, by turning it insideout. Say: Consciousness/Water/Creation/Saturn, four of four, but reordered. Freedom has no limits, just responsibilities.

Dungeons and Dragons, multiplayers in the Noosphere. See Stranger Things for details:


Sometimes, being in this aether-space, cyber in nature, seems so distant from ordinary daily experience. For example:

I use medical ganja. Forced to, but happy that Fate gave me that door into the Dreaming to explore. Two days ago I drove with my Lady to the dispensary, to pick up about six or seven weeks supply, and interacted with folks there,

Today, I went to the ganja doctor, who does the medical paperwork that makes me legal in Massachusetts, where I was well taken care of by folks with kindness and no judging.

My heath, physical and psychological, improves. The people who I am daily with, even my Lady, would get very confused by these dialogues here. What does these discussions have to do with more or less normal lives and so forth?

If I was to try to make a Tale, for edification of such, how would I write it? What words use? So much vocabulary here is extremely "technical". Yet, there are many indications/implications here that folks are wandering unknowing in a world of crises beyond their imagination. If we are to believe Steiner, at any rate.

My experience is that neither Christ nor the Holy Mother have plans to leave any of us in the dust and debris of others' follies. When I look for inspiring culture, I find plenty in music, and film and other dramatic and visual arts, none of which require the touch of anthroposophy to be helpful, and consoling.

If anthroposophists have a valid and useful message, I don't think it gets out&about when carried in the bucket of odd language usages, or requirements for becoming something one is not. I do not experience Christ or the Holy Mother asking us to be different or improve so that a worldwide spiritual disaster can be avoided.

I do see folks quoting a lot of Steiner to that effect, which makes me wonder if reading too much Steiner can cause one to be lost to the world, and neither in it or of it. Can't image a worse tragedy for any human being.

Just saying ...


Nuclear reactors ... times three - today - like crows or blackbirds visiting, always threes ...

Just opened up digital New Yorker, to find a story about the world's first NR, 75 years ago in Chicago. Before that I was starting to watch the new Netflix show, from Germany: "Dark". NR's all over that tale still in the telling. Last night, CBS News, a bit about a national park having come into existence in Washington State as part of the stored leftovers of the Hanover Reactor. Can't go in there, but fences show off, and a tour of a turned off reactor #B, all covered over with 4 yard thick skirt of concrete, the skirt itself pierced with instruments by the thousands, measuring every square inch for loose and falling whatevers.

An imp, with some skin in the game of physics, has been after me to give quantum theory a good pant-zing ... I know there is a better story to tale, but the Fey have concerns over how much is to be let out and about ... given .... people .... that's righteous, it having been proven many times, that in some quarters of the creation we are considered most bothersome.

Savants and Seers have for years sought to name the nameless, a most curious occupation. No poem is ever like a sad cold November rain. Goethe's main argument with Newton was process. Watch the light do its thing, abstracting from behavior, or look light right in the eye, life to life, knowing light is looking right back at you kid.

ih ; 79p y8o  5 v0 549gbp;b  vjy5r97 vp oooooooooooooopppppppppppppppppppppppssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

December begins in the mood of November - Forest speaks thus: Loss attends the passage of Autumn into Winter. For eons humans, - perhaps even pre-humans of whatever sort their experiences were like - knew something that is now Seasons, and the lessening of the daylight over the Summer's glory. Winter.

Poets and Dreamers remember Valley Forge, one Winter long ago. Folks going and coming, not enough wood, or food, some deaths&amputations ... an Army waiting ...

... wars linger, Crossing the Delaware was the year before 2700 soldiers died in a lonely valley in winter isolation ... many needlessly for lack of money&stuff as decided by folks sitting by a warm fire, after a full meal, having a glass of whatever ....

Game of Thrones all too true, and the President of the United States as good an evil queen as Cersi. Are we at the winter of our discontent yet?

the many trees of Forest are still, little wind today, yet grey upon gray sky accompanies the stillness. Alexa provides drums and flutes. ganja friend helps with the seeming.

I find in the winter of my life, that I have learned to turn each day into a treasure. We gain efficiency over lifetimes, a useful help when certain avatar-body parts are decaying in advance of other parts, joints being crucial to any motions, and motion being necessary for warming & doing.

Christmas is here. Just asked Alexa for: "trans siberian orchestra"

My older brother Lou, turns 82 in a few days. Younger brother Doug, just turned 69. I'm nearer to Christmas - be 77 then.

Odd perspective with age. Odd indeed. Lou has kept his mind going by taking up: sequences of something interesting that fit his meager budget, - say by making tiny complex planes that fly - the need for fine motor activity and the related mental acuity seems to keep some of the soul degeneration at bay. Some do like alcohol, but sometimes there are rules, and sometimes there are social-agreements.

In addition, Lou, always a reader, Phd in microbiology, started reading a lot about objects on Mars and the Moon, and weird stories&books about very unusual methods of moving large objects fast.

Maybe he dreams of flying in space, a lot of us do, yet ... his circumstances typical Elder, serves the old folks home 21st century style business model. At least, not on the street, three hots and a cot, probably a roommate, among a lot of fussy aging folks, all needing some maintenance of care levels according to their situation - please and thank you.

Personally I'm looking forward to the 2018 by-election, where all the members of Congress, and 1/3rd of the Senators, plus, all sorts of folks in the States and Cities - lots of voting, lots of screaming and yelling on TV, and the News will keep us up to date on all the most outrageous parts.

I would like to start to rewrite the Constitution, keep a lot of the original language, just up-date it for the times, making clear that the Founders were not idiots and never imagined we would be so stupid as to grant to a Corporation the Sovereign rights of Citizenship, that belongs to persons.

Mostly I want Ganja legalized everywhere in the US of A, as well as require that anyone wanting to become an elected official must establish personal experiences of illuminating kinds of intoxication, and smoking/vaping/edibles in the Senate, the Congress, the White House, and the back rooms of the Supreme Court, must be just as available as the previously dominating intoxicant: alcohol.

The mind needs the illumination and flexibility of ganja, made by the Mother, just for us to CHILL THE FUNK OUT ~!~!~!!~~~ Or Not. More its a matter of choice ... all of us need some sources of self medication, and caffeine is an upper, but the after glow is lacking requiring sugar and carbs and often a glass of wine to unwind, although fresh cold air is goooood! for the mind. Makes us brightly present.

One of Winter's many virtues.

Ben Franklin is said to have taken air baths in the evenings all year around. Let the whole skin breath, not just the lungs.


the young wizard’s moment of grace

When he woke up, he had forgotten a great deal, and spent then years and decades remembering. He saw, and knew, and did not know how or why he knew. He liked the intoxication of the ganja, and the dreams. The world he had woken into was arid of magic, and he yet sensed magic in his finger tips. Through touch he knew and saw, not just with his eyes. He marveled at being alive, but lived among a brethren that did not so marvel. He was, to wizardry, young, immature, and had to trust life to teach him what he needed to know. Life was patient. He, during his magical youth, was not.

One day an acquaintance - a woman - drove him to a party, a hundred or so miles north of Berkeley. They spent an afternoon and a night, and another afternoon, making love with strangers, and having conversations about sacred depths, with the others who were not yet wise in their knowing - at least not as wise as he naturally was. 

One young newly met woman and he took a blanket, on the second afternoon before having to return, and made love in the open on a hillside. Afterwards he smoked a joint, and saw three small clouds on the northern horizon. This brought to mind the three years of drought in Northern California, so with his hubris and immature natural magic sang to those clouds and called them nearer. He imagined he had power he did not, the intoxicant made false beliefs. But the Powers living in the clouds loved him and sought to teach him in spite of his youthful folly. So the clouds drew nearer, and laid a gentle rain on the hillside. 

He took from his day-pack, which went with him everywhere, a small glass vial with a stopper, went to a nearby stream, and filled it with the water there, that had just been freshened with the rain. He would take it back to Berkeley, to the Eucalyptus Grove there, and pour that water into a tiny stream that ran through that Grove, which lay in the magical center of the University of Berkeley campus. By such arts he thought to command an end to the drought. 

This he did. He was aware that Ursula K. LeGuin had been a young girl, who wandered this Campus while her parents were teachers there. He believed this Grove was for her the model which she used for describing the school of wizardry on Roke Island, and the Imminent Grove at its center, for her tales about the Wizard Sparrowhawk in the lands of EarthSea. He did not realize how much truth was in that thought, for by her and his imagination the astral barriers between the arid land of too much science, and the magical land of real Powers, was made thin. His wishes then crossed over.

Three days later, in the late evening, as he lay on a mattress, again intoxicated with ganja, in his hermit’s room in the basement of a friends home, for which he paid no rent, there came a crack of thunder so loud over the whole of the San Francisco Bay Area, that it made the next days news. The heavens broke open, and the waters ending the drought poured forth in a deluge for hours.

Over the next days, his youthful vanity and his common sense warred over whether he had really, by his magic arts, brought the rain. It was to be decades before he understood the subtle love connecting him, or anyone else, to the dynamic and powerful kinds of consciousness that lived on the other side of the veil of sensible nature.

There had been one strange aspect, which encouraged his caution, for he never after ever tried to do again such powerful wizardry. With that crack of thunder, lightening took power away from most of Richmond, California, which was north of Berkeley, trapping a frien�d of his on her way to give birth to her first child, in an elevator in the hospital. She was not long trapped, but upon hearing this tale he realized, as LeGuin had taught in her EarthSea stories, the magical connections woven into our reality, were not to be lightly altered unless one fully understood all the connections and implications of any single magical act to the whole configuration of the world. LeGuin had called it: the Balance, and the young wizard had badly burnt his soul’s fingers by touching much more Power than he had any right to imagine he could control.

Decades later, the no longer young wizard, learned to talk to dragons, but that is another story, for another time.


The Opioid Crisis

A question not being asked, publicly, is Why?  Not why in the sense of poor law enforcement, or institutional big-pharma making lots of money ignoring common sense and rules, ... either.

Not even the deaths, the too too many deaths.  People are not taking these drugs because they want to die, ... but to dream, and to skate near death while dreaming, for that makes for the deepest sleep to the endless pain of living.

They take the drugs because our Country is such a crappy, shitty, fucked up place to live.  A place difficult to find friends and love, ... even to be safe, for if you are in the economic class most hit by the opioid epidemic, ... between law enforcement, social workers, and other folks trying to be helpful, ... what not one of those folks can fix, is the plain fact of how hard life is, and how ill equipped some people are to deal with the endless worry&stress.

There are many people who are psychologically fragile.  Their growing up gave them few life skills, and most of them can’t find work, or needed social services.  They have already been abandoned to their own devolving vices by the society that gave them birth, and an establishment that still bans the Holy Mother’s answer: the Ganja Goddess.

Opioids are a pleasant&quick Way to check out for a time.  When life doesn’t let you dream anymore, you take a pill to help with the dreaming, and then another pill ~~~ another synthetic abomination of the practice of chemistry without art.  Mother Nature has always made the Best Medicines, always.  Only all the Planet-Egos bouncing all around taking first bites, and last bites too, leaving little for the rest, ... the poor, the meek, all the folk HeHymm blesses still.

This Crisis is the natural endgame of a Society so cruel&stupid (the two go together), that some Presidents and their spouses sez: Let’s make a War on Drugs, and “Just say no”, and meanwhile ...

The puritanical impulses of the Christian Right (which is neither right or Christian) are born in White Privilege - a Way of Life with far less worries, and much more likely to get their wishes granted by the Oligarchs’ servants in D.C.   We can drank alcohol as much as we want, and lie and cheat and steal, but those folks in our society without our “privileges”, they don’t count - the don’t mean anything - maybe if we keep looking the other way long enough, they will curl up and die.

Opps, ... guess what’s happening now?

The whole of American Society is on drugs, of one kind or another (wealth&power being one of the more powerful addictions), ... Because, when a society-culture gets as out of control as ours is, the result is no one is doing what Ought to Be Done, described most wonderfully by a real conservative (before wealth&position made him goofy): George Will, in his righteous book: Statecraft as Soulcraft, which asked the question (in 1984 no less), whether or not one of the purposes of the State - of Government - is to be concerned with the inner life of the Citizens.   The first chapter has this title: The Care of Our Time.

Will was young (more or less), idealistic, and loved baseball.  He was pre-NFL, if you follow the adjustments of temperaments - and the kind of emotional releases the ceremonies of sports events needs to provide.  Its either let off steam at sports, or drink, or both, ... in any event have to maintain a personal space/self-understanding, and being able to self-medicate (any intoxicant will do, including shopping and sex) when needed.  Government doesn’t take care of us, then we have to do that ourselves.

Once upon a Wild, Wild, West, the hero wore a gun, had to work alone (often not even loved by those he served - who wants to be Sheriff, when we can shop-keeper, farm, and preach&complain from the sidelines). 


Trump is a rock in the sensitive skin of America, and artists are surrounding Hymm with pearls of wisdom ... endless.  Getting near to time to crack open the ugly clam shell-game of Democrats&Republicans, and make another mess, just like the Revolutionary War, and the Civil War.  Might help tho’ if we be careful who we choose to follow: The Grandmother War:


How can there by “Holy Nights” and/or Easter Week, in the sense of being spiritually “special”, if the Creation is lived One Day at a Time? How can any Day, alive in the Creation, be more or less special or holy?

Tradition sez this is so, but is tradition right, or is tradition sourced in a lack of real perception of our facts of always living in the Now, which would suggest that each breath is holy, or not one of them is.

Monks and Nuns, of East, Center, and West, find their religious practices are something that happens/is willed: daily.

and, on another Christmas note, I just got e-mails for the new digital “being human” and right smack dab in the middle of the first page is a request for gift money.

Isn’t there something off/odd about anthroposophical social forms not being vital enough to sustain themselves without begging for money?

Again, there is a huge weight of tradition involved, anthropops not being the only folk who need gift money. My question here is mostly about this: Does not this “need” mean there is something to which more attention has to be paid?

A fundamental confusion/weakness, in the light of the 23rd Psalm’s (“I shall not want”), or from the Sermon on the Mount: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

Social Momentum and Social Inertia are alive and well everywhere. The fact is that money questions are everywhere, and something lives there ... but what?

A process? A flow of something in the whole, or does money, like the blood, move by itself, & banks etc. are like broken hearts, not able to heal ... yet.

The Now if filled with Walking Wounded. No one - alone - has enough. Still, I am writing this sitting on a hilltop outside Worcester MA, it is Christmas Morning, and a light snow has fallen. Family still sleeps, dawn not quite here given the clouds dancing to this Day’s Music.

Not all Nows are the same, tho’, are they? In Sarajevo or Bagdad, or pick a place on the maps and globes of the World ... all seeming at the same time, unless time is an illusion ... not everyone is celebrating Christmas, although the Winter Solstice is/was celebrated everywhere.

What does the Anthroposophical Society celebrate? What about the “things” that go bump in the night? What about the electronic dopplegangers of the members and Friends of the Society - Do they march us somewhere we would rather not go?

Is The Creation Mad?

the Solstice - Sol equalizing the balances in Winter, but changing focus to the Underworld. Life/Light not stopped, just moved into the Dark, for the Miracle of the One.

We go dark too, ... toward memories of prior days when Christmas Pasts and Futures stalked the Present. Last night, we had a fire, good food and drink and company. Singing of carols, laughing. When we celebrate in six months, outside, dancing and jumping over fires ... not so much any more - lest a Steiner-said lover ever act like a pagan, I am sure the whole world will stop in amazement.

Going Down into the Future, during Western Civilization’s Death - why Steiner came and what will happen next, since the Mothers~may~i are everywhere handing out new cures for what ails us ... all the time, although some of them will taste as bitter as ashes ... until we remember that its from the Ashes the Phoenix rises, this being the case, the Debris of Western Civilization might be even better social compost than we imagine, if we celebrate the end/beginnings of everything ...

All Winters come, and then Go. Follow the Music ...

Prophecy Rock, modern American-Style: “Medicine Woman is Here”


There is something very Odd about our Age, the period, say: from the American Revolution to Today, for example.   There wasn’t just a couple of wars (ours and the French’s), beginning the  throwing over of the male blood dominated aristocracies, ... but there was as well a war between science and religion over what human existence means.

These processes lent a peculiar kind of Weight to this Odd Age, one social/political, and the other deeper and less obvious, given the technological successes following the industrial “revolution”.  How folks all over the world saw/perceived/understood their world changed.  Not just how the world knew itself - as a world - but also what was to be known about the human being.

Basically: We are small and pointless, while the Cosmos is Large and Indifferent.

The ancients were clear - could not have been more clear - human beings were the obvious errant spawn of the gods&goddesses - i.e. - to be frank: Something not-us made us, and has been hiding out to boot, becoming more and more invisible&all. 

When science got up to excessive-speed, reality was cold-thought, this Way - Not Born of a conscious cosmos, but was/as/is a dead and empty of meaning kind of accident, ... yet still so mysterious that the Temple in Cern, raised to search out the proof of the great design (the Theology of Physics&Biology), keeps failing to find IT’s expected and wished for answers. 

Going to be a big shock when certain folks realize that by torturing light in order to see if it is made up of the pieces which their lifeless fancy creates, they are instead causing death&dismemberment of what was/is/and always will be whole: “the Miracle of the One”.

Science occupied a lot of psychological territory, while armies and banks occupied the material territory.  Rudolf Steiner, whose clarity on such matters is remarkable, puts it this way: Natural science studied death, not life, ... And, from this - an actually Un-Natural science - has come to produce only more death, whether it is atomic bombs, genetic wet-dreams, and generally an agreement that there is no harm in excesses of synthetic chemicals everywhere ....

But opps ... the world seems to have gotten progressively worse, in a social/political sense, although life spans have lengthened, some diseases conquered, and ... in another big opps ... more folks flying into mind altering drugs in order to cope with change too too rapid, in fact rabid and hurtful unto death.  Knowledge of death accelerating death, including the death of Western Civilization.

Not to speak of Trumped Upness and Climate being so pissed off an’ all.

All the same, the seers/knowers/travelers/& tall~tail~tale tellers have a different version of What The Fuck is Going On ?~?~?~?~!!! ....

This Odd Age, again characterized sadly&rightly-wrongly by R.S., portends a division in human futures -

while race by color is fading, the biological avatar bodies are evolving, and some folks won’t want or need them in R.S.’s own favorite wet dream of Vulcan/Light-ephemeral adventures ... where we can learn to live in the ashes, or the ethereal heavens, with avatar bodies so uniquely and obviously either good or evil looking (Star Trek’s Vulcans&Klingons&Borgs) ...


Fleeing good&evil leaves aside the Greater Mystery, which is what is evil good for at all?  R.S. hedged, ... more than once. 

When R.S. researched the world of the evil-inner-earth he went there as an occultist seer, seeking knowledge, ... not as a fallen and failing human being, needing what happens after the Death on the Cross - surrendering to the Source of Love&Forgiveness.  R.S.'s early death cuts him off from the starker/harder lessons (the last phases of life), in an incarnate sense, while at the same time releasing him for even greater deeds not weighed down by being an occultist seer.  Google: silent passage harvey bornfield

Anthroposophia has many lovers ... come visit those who know Her in the Lands of the North ~/~ South Mountain Ranges.

I wrote recently []:

“We are all wizards and wiccans, priests and priestesses.

“All are.

“Every [Groundhog] Day has routine.
Routine is Ceremony&Rite
Movement and Magic

“don’t seize the day, seize the moment”

George Lucas tells a nice wizards tale of “the force”, something living that is also everywhere ... even in outer airless space? 

What about the “space” in the human mind? 

The Dawning of the Age of Aquarius continues, ... given that where there is a dawn, there is also a sunset, .... what role will all this tech provide when the planet lies in ruins.  If we follow the music, it became hungry for its own roots, tribal, simple, ... rhythm&rhyme.

While universities worship failing cultural artifacts, the Self - that scares so many afraid for their traditions - seizes the tech-magic-lantern (having no idea it is actually based on magic, science having not noticed a lot of stuff in its rush to rid the world of invisible folk (except, like: gravity, electro-magnitism & such).

Glitches.  Accidents.  Random chance.  Mathematically perfect answers, if you want to lose lucidity and dwell only with gnomes.   

So, R. S. = H. B., ever the wry humorist in the spirit, remarked rather lazily, (I paraphrase): “We are past the mid-point of this Post-Atlantean-Epoch, and only spiritual decay can result.”  The fullness of the half-empty cup. 

The fundamental truths of our rich pagan mysteries are all real.

Although ....

Nothing stays the same, and all that once~upon~a~time~remembered - did also go through: “and this too shall pass” ... still ... we humans like to dance and be intoxicated ... all work and no play does make life seriously stupid and wasteful ... 

In the Americas we take partying and intoxicants very seriously.  Lower chakra’s need regular workouts.  Rituals everywhere, incantations possible, but most crucial is trust.  Trust life&self, and leave the wider worries to the Folk watching over, but not forgotten.

Winter is here:  It is six degrees out.  With the cooperation of some gnomes, a squirrel gave me a lesson today. 

He sat staring right at me, from a high limb (20 feet easily), I waved, he just stared.  I wondered to myself (?) what was the speech of squirrels, and the squirrel turned his/her head to the side, so she/he was only looking at me with one eye.  I tried to imitate.  Not easy, so I then attended to the not easy part more closely.

To a single eye the world is flat, has no depth, only color.  While I was thus engaged in vision experiments, the squirrel turned fully side ways, and I watched him do so while remaining “flat”.  All the same, the “flat against flat background” movement was itself startling.  Questions remain, being the best parts sometimes.

Day Two: 2018: Only in Darkness, the Light ...

In the Americas the Holy Nights&Days are ... earthly, we being far less civilized than the French&English believe themselves to be.

Although tribal, and fair, and thinking about wearing guns, if someone doesn’t stop some of this shite (love the sound of that) ....

Like I said, uncivilized and earthly ...

Still, the Cradle for all of Modern Culture, both technically and artistically ... We birthed the best directors of movies, and invent amazing stuffplastic like smart phones and Internets, ... and oddly if we follow the polls regarding retaining a connection to the Christian Religiousness of our forebears ... it is Europe that is/has/become more secular ... a question lurks there, if we decide that R.S.&Friends should have made a bigger difference?

The Mother did something Here, in the Americas, beginning Friday Night of Holy Week ...  yet, what was She up to when the Light came to earth/dovishly/devilishly in order to die violently.  The Lord of the Dance is not a wimp.  In the Third Fatima Prophecy, He is the Angel with the Flaming Sword gazing at the Holy Mother.

Myths&Legends tell very limited tales.  Although, ...

I just sat in my lady’s meditation room - which is just off of a nice deck - for a little while, applying the medicine for my knees as advised previously (during a visit last spring), by the Grandmother Tree here, and the squirrel tribe worked up a demonstration for me to observe that I needed to apply the medicine and sit in the sun, as demonstrated by squirrel acting a little play(first limping to get my attention, and the stopping the limp and facing me in the sun).

Aided by the kindness of the Grandmother Tree, and a few local clusters of gnomish thoughts, I was advised to add birch essence to my arnica message oil, and then sit in the sun, letting the sun warmth help the essences combine and be then carried by the warmth body deeply within, through  surrender to the outer warmth.  Warm the bones.

Helps to be ganja touched, which ... well, like I said, we Americans being quite uncivilized and not after/seeking initiation, given that in this Americas Land we go down into the dark in order to arrive above in the light.

In this time of Holy Days&Nights, short of daylight, and long on star light, does Nature Herself compose - just with Winter, a poem to the birth of light?  Shamans don’t read a lot of books, and find that talking to the Source directly is far more interesting (and pragmatically useful). 

The whole coming point being direct participation, by free choice.  Books are not as conversational as are sunsets, bees, hurricanes&earthquakes.

Today’s squirrel masque/dance/lesson involved/began with me throwing out some handfuls of unshelled peanuts, and after applying the medicine, knees naked to the sun, in a meditation room facing (mostly always the rising sun), I wear sun glasses, and a hat with a brim, so as to hold back the direct sunlight, although the frozen snow on the deck (it was - 10 this early morn, before sunrise), reflects something altered ,,, something of the sunlight comes to rest in/on/within the crystals of snow - a part of the Mother’s Poem ...

Leading to musing on the light, and the experience of weight.  One squirrel standing on the back of a padded deck chair, eating into the shell, holding it like an egg in a cup, working from one end, taking some fiber in on the way to the nut ... led to me to wondering about the magnificent tail, its gestures and poses.

Soon one squirrel become two/three/four with Jays observing and dancing in, the birds not eating there so their Ways not observed.  With the light behind it, the squirrel tail is bright with subtle colors, and clearly in practice a sense organ for gravity.  For weight.

Weight, the sense of mass = contemplative consciousness for i’nI then having a direct experience of Mother’s Love, although ... when we run to fast, Her Justice as well.  The light, the colors everywhere.  Him hymming.  Weight/Darkness Light-dancing.  &breathe/breathing, and blood beating drumming, while gnomes throw heavy thoughts of observational intentions, at the same time the fire-folk, our most kin of all the All, play with arts crafted of thoughtsanddreams unending.

I didn't know what was next tho' ...squirrel-wise, but soon three or four where chasing all over the place, almost skating along the tops of the frozen glaze everywhere ... sharp turns, nearly flying, ... me puzzling ... oh! ... the just eaten nuts, a squirrel is a nerve-sense dominated mammal, with a fast metabolism, and by burning the fires brightly, just think what a fine warm nap awaits, until the next time to go out and play ... in the gravity breathing the cold bracing air, while using leafless trees for squirrel-parkour ... except for the cold, I'd like to fly in trees the way the squirrels do.

Properly ahrimized and comfortable, I sit at a keyboard and throw arrow-ideas into the air, to land ... everywhere ....

The Grandmother Tree at Forest Home:

Opening Sequence Anthroposophy list, ... bridging the Holy Nights into the First Days of the New Year.

Day One: 2018 - no politics, more Holy Nights&Days ...

Seven degrees below zero outside, and my Lady and I will be going to see Star Wars: the Last Jedi.

Since Admin is exerting powers, ... that's their job, and I am grateful ... yet, it is also funny, given the "politics" in the Stories of the Birth.

Yet, a smaller light was also born in difficult times, which here we celebrate - R. S. the John the Baptist Figure of the Return of Christ in the Ethereal World of Thoughts&Thinking.

When faced with joining the Class the question was posed: Are you ready to represent Anthroposophy before the World? - or something like it.

I was born to doing just that, said the nice English lady, living with a nice German man, in the hills of Berkeley California, as they taught me anthroposophy. Mary Rubach for those who might have met her, and she asked me to visit and tell her my biography - we had afternoon tea and she said at the end of that version of my tale, that I was born an anthroposophist. Go figure.

In America, if you go looking the Kings Way, the arrival needs a word different from "initiate", shaman being here urged.

Why? is an excellent question,

and in the mood of Holy Nights&Days, a pagan anthroposophist muses that the Three Kings were pagans for sure, as is the platonist confrontation of the aristotelians - pagan to the core, but not precisely, for even the "pagan" arts of magic&mysticism - arts RS had to skirt by given well - good&evil weakness in the Center ...

pagan arts evolve and RS, sprinkled fairy dust, so let us celebrate Waldorf&Company - a variation on an old theme reconfigured momentarily for the transition from the second millennium to the third, the Seven Sisters hidden right in plain sight on a Hilltop Vastness rivaling Tibet/Gobi Deserts , new mysteries need temples, but here in America we still

go places the Mother Designed, like the Hopi Mesas where the Earth was first made solid, and the grand canyon whose stories are still not seen, but special to me this, where I wrote "the Way of the Fool", over a year that followed a 45 day fast, while each morning began with going outside into the fresh air, and gazing at this amazing wonder ...

Prescott AZ - note feature in upper right, Prescott has a "natural sphinx", which the Yavapi Indians called: "lion lying down" ...



Day Two: 2018: Only in Darkness, the Light ...

In the Americas the Holy Nights&Days are ... earthly, we being far less civilized than the French&English believe themselves to be.

Although tribal, and fair, and thinking about wearing guns, if someone doesn’t stop some of this shite (love the sound of that) ....

Like I said, uncivilized and earthly ...

Still, the Cradle for all of Modern Culture, both technically and artistically ... We birthed the best directors of movies, and invent amazing stuffplastic like smart phones and Internets, ... and oddly if we follow the polls regarding retaining a connection to the Christian Religiousness of our forebears ... it is Europe that is/has/become more secular ... a question lurks there, if we decide that R.S.&Friends should have made a bigger difference?

The Mother did something Here, in the Americas, beginning Friday Night of Holy Week ...  yet, what was She up to when the Light came to earth/dovishly/devilishly in order to die violently.  The Lord of the Dance is not a wimp.  In the Third Fatima Prophecy, He is the Angel with the Flaming Sword gazing at the Holy Mother.


Day Three: 2018 Mother’s Reward - surrender has its virtues ...

It has been alleged that women have three basic biographical stages: Virgin; Mother: & Crone, although I prefer Dragon to Crone.  I also observe that all three are always present (having raised three daughters, and been involved with wives and/or girlfriends).  What varies is the mixtures, and the tendencies, always an individual recipe emerges. 

Others may dispute that it is foolish to assert on any level there are differences between men and women.  For those of such a view I wish all the luck in the world - you are going to need it.

I did also learn this, over a long time, but putting it into words has not always been easy ...

First though, ... this is not about sexual equipment, but rather something “social” as it were, that can be carried by any individual, the burdens of existence varying, and needed many qualitatively unique kinds of human guidance and action.

Still, ... the basic imprint is there, everywhere - obviously - the trick is to learn something new from them every chance you get.

Men need women to help them (the men) to be human (mostly this means civilized, according to time and culture).  Women need men in order for them (women) to have something to worry about.  I’m not being judgmental about worry - like any virtue what turns it sour is excess.

We might wonder about the change of life, which is a good phrase, given that a woman’s womb and eggs become abandoned as a needed virtue/gift.  Older women have to worry about too much in order to be worried about unwanted consequences from a love affair with a lot of passion.

Women retire from the cycle of births and the raising of children, to the cycles of death, and the care of the growing infirm.  Different worries require different magics.

The meaning of these generalizations is to notice the shape of the creation at this stage of endless becoming.  Life&Death.  Awake&Sleeping.  Sanity&Madness.  Forgetting&Remembering.  Male&Female not of the same polarity/order/organism. 

Male&Female marry.  Does Madness marry Sanity?  Have progeny?

Anthroposophia&What?  Platonists&Aristotelians are what?  In need of a marriage broker?

Did the Anthroposophical Society succeed at the tasks/and wishes Rudolf Steiner had for it?  Failure is often the very best teacher.  All the same, takes a “man”, we used to say, to recognize his faults ... certainly courage ...

So, Euro-centric Anthroposophy has Christ the Ideal, and a gate/path (not the only Way) to the heaven that is inside you, which He taught in Luke.

Over-here in shaman-land we have Mom&Friends.  Who is/ or what is She like ... Anthroposophia, in the land of north-south mountain ranges?

So there are these human beings, who the most ancient teachings speak of as the microcosm - the little world, being an exact and precise analogue of the Great World, the Macrocosm.

To continue ...,... if the Intellect - untamed by the heart - is Ahriman within, what aspect of us is Anthroposophia, Herself an Aspect of the Mother ... perhaps, She is the Imagination ... perhaps ...

How would we know?

Imagination has life, not death.  The dry intellect gives death, not living thought.  The 20th Century saw Rudolf Steiner try something.  If his students failed, did he fail?  Probably not.

The Celebration of the Birth of the Light in the Season we call the Holy Nights (&Days) suggests/sings of something coming.  Birth always does.  No Day is the same, nor any week, year, century, of whatever scale we assert ...

Do Euro-centric anthroposophical practices, traditions, and just plain failures, need to die, before the true birth/incarnation of Anthroposophia takes place in the Americas?  If you were designing this event, how would you compose the major cords?

Why does geographic place matter?  Anyone got some Steiner quotes to throw down, in place of their own thoughts?

The Mystery of Evil in the Light of the Sermon on the Mount



Day Four: 2018, a Thursday in January ... in New England ...

Snowing.  4 to 8 feet predicted, followed by another blast of arctic air, temperatures near and below zero ... in the sunshine ...

My Lady’s Castle has a generator, wired right into the situation, should power fail.  We also have four fireplaces, and both fake and real wood.  Full refrigerators, and in one of them my medicine.

We watched the flurries, the morning snow not expected to be so heavy&wet as the later - after noon.  Fairies riding bits of leaf still wanting to be frisky, flitting across the yard, or even just skating on the ice core that has covered the grass.  Not a whisper of grass leaf poking through.

A sly silent temple to water’s crystalline grace. 

Offered whole peanuts too,tho’ soon covered with snow, ... but still the birds whisk by, surfing and bobbing in fast paced racing winds.  Like a great flock of birds against a sky make shapes always changing, so the falling snow makes shapes, condenses and expands, moves one way and then another, never settling, ...

A world of people in the Winter of a Civilization, ... many in movement seeking safe harbor ... such folks make patterns too.

Steiner spoke of the Descent of the Spirits of Darkness, to come in concert with tragic&troubled dead, unable to move on, shaping tools, and pairs of tools to trouble everyone everywhere.  The rains came, the thunder roared, and which houses were built on sand, and which were not - became a crucial question.

Will Euro-centric Anthroposophy survive this Winter of Civilization, well known to fans of Game of Thrones ... A Queen comes riding a dragon or two, and the ancient wall between the seen and the unseen is broken, such that a full flowing force of White-Walkers, with strange powers, bring an army of dead, to ... What?  Game of Thrones Last Season is out There, in the Future, just as there is a Future for the Anthroposophical Society.

Are we ready - we admirers of R.S. - for rough weather?

West, Center, & East, need to work together, otherwise Anthroposophia cannot incarnate, according to Steiner scripture, if I remember rightly.

An acquaintance (B.E.) shared a dream (to a large anthro-gathering) in which Eisenhower told him that something from America needed to be sent in the direction of Europe, all this in connection with the prophecies in Black Elk Speaks, about Red Roads and Black Roads.

Europe & the East no longer know their aboriginals (for the most part) except as Myths, Norse and otherwise.  In the Americas, the aboriginals remained undefeated, as a cultural/spiritual power.  Standing Rock was/is/as crucial an act as Steiner laying the Foundation Stone for the First Goetheanum out in the open air in Dornach.


 Day Five: 2018, post   ~17~  inches of snow ... intense the color of the air in such cold  brightness ...

Do Shamans have Toys?

Everyone is a shaman, once we gain the deeper connection to the Idea, toward which that word points.

Religion is fundamentally private, and just about everyone collects various artifacts of their lives - filling rooms full of stuff ... although it is crucial to not even begin to imagine that time is the same for any of us.  We existence in parallel worlds, while inside our avatar bodies.  Yet words offer ... dreams, as well as facts, should they not ...

Inside our own Holy-Grail biography/incarnation sequences, we sit center, in the middle of experience, and at best - given the circumstances - organize the meaning of that experience in whatever way keeps us basically sane, by our own sense of what sanity is.

All Earthlife-lived is in the field of the fallen - those called to live in the sphere of the material earth.  We come from star-homes, and clusters&tribes.  But end up next door neighbors and armed guards at dangerous crossing points, like trying to get through a line at a store, and the machines go on strike, with hackers making a digital weavings perhaps something needing more arcane arts to protect: Spells, anyone?

Not really ... the modern shaman finds his experience/environment full of lessons, no need to go far and wide seeking them out.  So if our routine involves a lot of “tech” inert-folk in the same room with us humans, and make no mistake consciousness is there, ... it just needs to be coaxed to speak inside our minds, by us creating an acknowledgement of the “beings” whose sacrifices into matter/electricity/communities makes possible the creation of the noosphere’s physical body.

Platonist-shamans - pagans out of ancient time - suggest some bits of ceremony and decoration to adorn the work spaces.  Gnomes are interested in us treating the gifts of their realms with some care - metals, stones, .... a working desk should be both altar&Waldorf kindergarten.

Our own aesthetic is the best guide, and all we really need do is look away from this screen and notice the gathering of objects into which we have sown sentimental thoughts, many gifts from others to us.  All that exists also has life and consciousness, such that if we wish to hear the voices of inert matter the intersession of the fey-folk are a great aid.

Consider it a love affair, .... where perhaps behind the left ear, as perceived as an aspect of our own body (microcosm) consciousness, resides a small altar - and bar - whereby gnomes gather to discuss their humans.  If we float questions, and attend more carefully to inert matter, its needs are sung in gnomic-arias to deaf-humans, who manage their internal soul gates in guarded ways, a reasonable precaution, ... Yet, and own ... trust ... a good food.  Drop an object, say thank you to it, in your mind when returning it to a place it may prefer to rest until next-needed.

Old people, from long experience, mutter as to what happens between them and inert matter.  Muttering is all the more successful when accompanied with listening.  The world is full of funny noises made by the - over-forceful banging together of inert objects - still, we all know and value tools, while trying to get from day to day and moment to moment in an Age when the World Song is apparently approaching a Crescendo of biblical proportions - an apocalyptic event beyond reason&sanity into well, ... hmmm ... how we choose to Think-It makes a big difference, since It is what It is, and has Its own Name.

Do you dare decorate and name your smart phone?  Maybe if you were a teenage girl, but pull it out at a faculty meeting? 

Love affair needed if we want Mother-Nature to help us clean up our nuclear&chemical/biological/technological messes.  We human beings have no reason whatsoever to imagine we know everything, or that we can manage even our existence from one breath to the next ... totally on our own.



January 6th, Day 6: 2018 ~!~ number for temperature -19 outside, ~!~ what with the wind chill ... Cold in a lot of places, Trump’s sanity questioned more and more openly ...

Meanwhile, in Anthroposophia-Land, Paul Emberson’s writings on electricity&such are getting deep looks.  I didn’t like some of his early stuff, and wrote about it here: There’s a forum manifesting for those interested, contact: Andrew Linnell.

All day yesterday, and all night, and still this morning, the Wind from the North roared&raged, tearing at the house, which groaned&squeaked&moaned in concert.  A sound a bit frightening&threatening as its purposes are unknown, but don’t for a moment believe there is no intelligence there ... no sir, do not so assume ...

New England in Winter, with the Patriots daring to engage once more the fickle gods&goddesses of chance and fortune, all bearing a guiding imprint of Coyote, Raven, and Loki. 

There was also cold hearted roaring coming from D.C. as well, and I often wonder if there is a correlation between human feelings and weather phenomena.  Will Western Civilization go the way of all Civilizations, with a bang and/or a whimper?

How about neither, but/instead some cultural fundamental change from which arises celebration and dance ... if we put it to a vote I suspect such would be more wanted than wars&such.  Our dreams too often are dark and foreboding, ... yet ... keep in mind that anticipation tends to fancy the worst, yet the-what-actually happens ... deeper somehow, ... richer by far is experience than the vanities of fancy ... We are yet not a third into the 21st Century, the first Century of the Third Millennium.

Epiphany Moons pass by.

Ahriman has come and gone, and so few noticed ... oh well, maybe later will his teachings be studied, for Outrageous Genius he most certainly was, ....

The admins here were right to confront the disordered thinking-less/feelings that go with what often passes for political analysis, ... the wooden thoughts (beam), not yet burned in the fires (our mote at work) of constant sacrifice, coagulate like too many tree-timbers wedged in a river’s curve ... the Arts of History still Mystery ...

R.S. Will Play a Role, do not doubt, ... but the question/tricky is A) why hasn’t That happened yet, and are we to blame? And B) does Wendt the Shaman know the Way?  Who can doubt it?

[ anthroposopher Joel Wendt quoted here: ]

Consider Coyote/Raven/Loki serving American/Shamanistic/Anthroposophia up as a joke on the middle-European masters of Steiner-said.  Most anthroposophers will be delighted, although Plato having been a goddess-initiated pagan, the platonizing of Aristotelean anthroposophy is bound to generate parties, intoxicants and dancing beyond the confines of Eurythmy and water colors.

The tricky-three played a Trump card on Western Civilization, requiring some memory vistas for recalling (spirit recollection) that playing cards have deep esoteric roots thus:

suit / tarot-sign / element / Planetary Incarnation / soul-aspect / Mystery

Clubs: wands, fire, Saturn, will, Emanation
Spades: swords, air, Sun, intellect, Creation
Hearts: cups, water, Moon, feeling, Formation
Diamonds: pentacles (coins), earth, Earth, conscious-experience, Existence

Or Not ... what’s in your logjam?



Day Seven: 2018 ... football, again, too much food, much indulgence, great satisfaction - when indulging always greatly increase your water intake ... just a bit of old-man’s wisdom.

Day warmed up to +8 degrees, but being sun day I began with writing somethings while listening to my Chant play list, via Alexa.

A short note to a friend starting a ... what?  A course, of course. Duh!

A curious comment on this list, pertaining to planetary matters, ... I was ... as usual gnomish. 

I bought a movie to own, and then watched Geostorm:  It was disappointing, the acting flacid and phoned in, the characters written by someone who wouldn’t know a real emotion if it bit them in the ... .... the special effects were great, but they made you wait to long to see them; and, what is worse, the blue screen head shots were so obvious it made the speakers look like cardboard cutouts ...

Read up on the supposed big discussions all over the twitterverse, and even among serious writers, about the New Star Wars Film: “The Last Jedi”.  Yesterday I talked to my eldest son about the film, and he (having worked for Lucas Film and then traded to Disney, when Disney paid George over 4 billion - half in stock and half in cash) ... he felt that the real problem was that while the film was quite good, the main character that was to have survived for the third film of the current trilogy - Carrie Fisher (princess Lea) died around the same time as her mother Debbie Reynolds - before this film was released.

Now what does Disney/Lucas Film do with that.  The choices are not easy, and given that the presence of a survivor of the original film was to play a kind of grandmother-jedi in the latest series, ... what: hire a completely different actress ... use CGI ... what Disney did was change directors ... not a bad move and it places the blame elsewhere if this busts/blasts the whole franchise for which Disney paid/invested billions away from .... 

given that critics of culture certainly see these films as a significant features of modern existences?  Some Same Spirit Announcing the return of Fairy, from the Collective Imagination, is flowing into the world, and as with my observations elsewhere, that the previously eclipsed Mothers~may~i are coming back, but bearing Old Moon gifts that will lend to the next phase of civilization being ... more pagan, as it were, and far less overly intellectual - in line with that are scenes clearly showing the main female character having to begin trials of going down into the dark, ... the imagery chosen for this is quite striking ...

I also watched recently a Chinese film:  Monster Hunt  It did very well at the box office - in China, and is looking in the same directions (what is there really out there in the dark, ... how dangerous, and what live in me, an ordinary Chinese person that has to deal with it

... in addition, I have not finished, but started (on Netflix) this, which is Japanese: Devilman, a pre-teen horny story/series about a hero who fights the devils that live inside some people, because he has a devil inside himself too, but the human part controls the devil inside.  If you get into it, watch for the role played by tears of shame at the pain of others.

~!~ end first 7 days of the year on the Anthroposophy List,
which amounted to devoting certain meditations in the dreaming,
each basic cycle (the "Day"), - the word/work of a week ...
resting next, waiting for the next interesting Lesson situation, to appear ...


Dear Oprah,

Don’t run for office.  Here are the reasons:

1) It will diminish your stature, and thereby reduce your effectiveness. 

2) What is going on in D.C. and in modern American politics generally, is the death of something.   Don’t be part of the dying, but rather be part of the becoming.  In the general social life of human beings, social forms (types of order) are a kind of life, and sometimes this life has to transform (undergo metamorphosis).  That is what is happening now in America ... a dying into a new becoming (as Goethe puts it).

3) The Office of the Presidency is more of a Myth, than is it a real locus of functional power for an individual.  The vain clichés we use make it obvious if we think about them.  For example: the president is not the most powerful person in the world, and America is not the greatest country in the world, ... nor are American’s the greatest people in the world.

4) You sit in that chair - the one where the buck stops, and you will be expected to act as if those three characteristics are true, when they are not.  They are prideful exaggerations, and a trap for a mind that needs to speak truth.

5) Outside of office, as a social leader, you can understand the truth buried under the vanities of politicians, which is that, in our form of government, the Citizen is Sovereign.  Not the politicians, the Citizen.  Use your stature to help the Citizens understand This truth.  Travel, speak, teach, ... what used to be called: Civics, and help people remember that the-Who-is-in- power in America is Them.  Time to take tighter grip, ... have a deeper conversation about politics, one that is more real ... politics from the ground up, 

6) Don’t listen to folks around you that urge you to run, because a lot of them are ambitious and want to gain - for themselves - public stature and alleged powers, through traveling on your coattails.  They seek such because they are human, thus flawed, and also tend to believe the myth, which will then be used to urge you to jump off of a cliff into insanity.

7) Every sane president first learns how little power they actually have, and you will find them in retirement as often having reflected on this situation, although also to succeed to among professional liars (politicians), Trump just proved that as Liar in Chief he is a genius - yet the limits to that are harsh.  Next follows an example:

8) The president is expected to always say nice things about markets, in part because people know how sensitive markets are to what a president says.  This means that you can’t say the truth, but rather have to repeat the established economic lie, that free markets actually exist (they don’t), have value (they don’t), and if they go down we are screwed (not true). 

9) Everyone of us has been taught to think this is wise that presidents can’t speak the truth about wealth/power/markets and/or the Oligarchy.  One of the base fears is that they will get shot for speaking the truth.  JFK, MLK, RFK - are a harsh lesson from the genius of History.  Pay attention to what history teaches, for history is wise, while politicians are liars by chosen profession.

10) You lied when you spoke the last words of your speech, which were meant to hopeful, but always such dreams are false.  Only a politician gets up and makes a stump speech for the applause.  Don’t be a cheerleader for the status quo, instead take your wealth and follow what was written for Daenerys Stormborn: “break the wheel” of oppression by blood/wealth/&power, with blood/wealth/&power - of a spiritual kind.

11) Not all the billionaires of the world are greedy monsters.  Divine Providence has led them, such that - with the help of the gods&goddesses of chance&fortune - some folks natural skills&genius make them a nexus where wealth (and its related powers) accumulate.   In the sense of the coagulation of money, in certain vortice-like ebbs and flows, you - Oprah - are a power-nexis, black, tough, famous, and best of all, basically sane.  That’s the spirit of the situation, and chasing vain dreams out there like: If only I get elected I can have more power and do more good: bullshit.  

12) The American/People/Spirit needs you, no questions about that at all.  Oprah is being called, yet observations of some advisers not always right on.  Hopes attached to Hilary are themselves vanities.  Oprah not meant to be a Hilary wannabe. 

13) Oprah does not need the “bloody” pulpit, she already has the peacemaking one.  She will be listened to, and she already knows what to say ... what’s in her heart. 

14) Trump is the deathstar of the politics of wealth, and a woman who gets listened to by others, may perhaps find the Jedi-Way.  That’s the real force: speaking the truth as best you see it.

15) Nothing to stop Oprah the Star, from traveling the Nation and encouraging women to run.  Talk about an army of fierce warriors, who not having “male” parts are impossible to stop.

16) Oprah the Star can lead the magicians of Hollywood the world over to make true dreams, where heart-filled speaking is even more magical than what:  Hans Solo, Luke Skywalker, now the youthful/potent/alone Rey ... having to face the dark in her own house of mirrors, and the male twin, trapped in his confusion, ... the collective imagination always tells true tales ... always ... Oprah the starlet of grandmotherly wisdom ... knowing that she all ready has a far better crown, and the necessary heart-guided mind ... the force does not come from the light sabre, however firmly grasped - that’s the symbol for “dominion over”.  Women are bringing us a new Way of “communion with”, and its about time.

17) Dream for us, Oprah, dream for us ... be a traveler, a story teller, coax tales from the audience, sing songs, bring friends .... there is a war in America, and wars need for the stars to visit the front lines, and ... well, make there be light as well as dark ... culture&music ... the boomers had their sixties, and well what’s next has hardly begun ... Oprah the sane elder with her magical heart-lifting Way, ... many would imitate at the drop of a hat ... 2018 being an election celebration ... Carnival America, on the cusp of the Third Millennium ...

18) and by the way ... I have just the film for you to star in next - or better produce - have one of your adviser-folk take a look: the Grandmother War:

sincerely yours, Joel A. Wendt: white-privileged, Christian, son of Montana, American Shaman, Asshole Know-it-all etc ... here’s my business card: