Ah,
but I do protesteth
A recent visit to the Kayaktivists media splash, (see shell
arctic drilling protests Seattle )
gave me reasons for opposing the Shell drilling in the arctic north. They have won me over to their side. As I grow older, I have adopted a cynical old
man’s world view.
That it is hopeless to try and change the world. I offer proof: presidential underdogs that wanted to change the system that I supported in the primaries or general election: Anderson, McGovern, Perot, Nader, Kerry, Paul and now Sanders snow ball in hell chance. All underdogs I supported that were thrown under the wheels of the bus.
That it is hopeless to try and change the world. I offer proof: presidential underdogs that wanted to change the system that I supported in the primaries or general election: Anderson, McGovern, Perot, Nader, Kerry, Paul and now Sanders snow ball in hell chance. All underdogs I supported that were thrown under the wheels of the bus.
That a person, (Me specifically)
is much happier to concentrate on the small world that I touch each day. To make Sacred Ground a more beautiful place
and follow Voltaire’s advice to Candide,”cultivate your own garden,” my mantra
for so long, perhaps is to misanthropic; adding feelings of hopelessness for
change to a world upside down with hate and religious wars. To add credit to my small-world philosophy
before I rant on the protest at hand; I offer several proofs. I watched Marieke recreate an autumn wreath into
a summer wreath that was given to her by one of her best buddies, AnnAlee. As I watched, Marieke said to me that I
probably thought she was wasting time.
Au contraire! I felt and said
that I thought these “making of wreaths” are what constitute the rich garden of
our life that is certainly not measured in green dollars as they are woefully
shy as a crop. (any donations made over 10 thousand dollars will be used for
partying with the Clintons ) Creating those decadent pork chops from the
Hanlin’s pig was a culinary masterpiece that nourishes our hunger for life. A once in a while cholesterol packing is
health-wise tolerable. For me, the
jewels that I plant are food for my soul, too.
My sore back is lessened when I look out our living room windows and see
Erythroniums, or Bletilla, or Cypripediums join us on the couch. I have had as many failures as watching the
Cypripediums come back again and again.
I guess I can’t classify myself as truly pessimistic about the
world. I am that gardener that has
failed with one plant, and failed with it again miserably, but this third and
last time I am trying to grow it, I’m sure I know what I was doing wrong. The joy driving into Sacred Ground makes my
tired legs less weary. Art for arts sake
flies us up on a plane far above the animal world. Do the pleasures of beauty exceed the pain. I’ll try chopping my ear off to find
out. I can’t say yes, but I keep on
planting. Sort of like that old hippy
saying “Keep on truckin” but in this case it’s “keep on plantin.” Working man’s pain deadened—my dad knew and I
have learned the saying “feelin no pain.”
Enough medication, alcohol or whatever and you can extract a back or
shoulder hurt; and say, “feelin no pain.”
My darling wife always poses a
very pertinent question: What will we do
when we can’t keep the blackberries from forcing their way through the shingles
into our bedroom?” --Like some Richard
Brautigan novel. Was it Trout Fishing in
America
or in Water Melon Sugar or maybe you can tell me the novel in which
blackberries were devouring a house.
Good question Mieki! I envision
the only use of my secateurs at that blackberry swallowing time, then a feeble
old man that can barely squeeze the blade (and bladder) to anvil; cutting
vining thorns from our lintel so we may enter our home. Answer to my darling, “Who cares if the vines
are inside? Easy picking. Blackberry fermentation—velvet on the palate
desert wine. There’s more. Being loved is a humbling experience. It gives up all robes of artifice. There is only you, naked and vulnerable and
still you are loved. Is this a miracle
like a seed? Bare all bulges, blemishes
visible, and still you are loved. True
love is very hard to find
But hey, I was reminiscing with
the kids, Ty and Kristin about how my stay at Stanford got shortened
(Vietnam/CO). I went up to Golden Gate Park
Back to Black. I don’t want to go to rehab so I return to
the main reason for this blog:
S-Hell no explorations for oil in
the arctic. At first I was sardonic
about the protesters.
Wow, they came riding into town in their gross gas-guzzling Mercedes SUSteeds; paddled their kayaks made of petroleum base and got their pictures on the 5 o’clock news in protest of Shell’s plans. WooHoo! How is that for ridiculing their protest? But then I talked with my friend Vince, who was the spill and safety coordinator for the city ofValdez . Remember the Exxon-Valdez? How human error—actually the captain was
snockered caused so much environmental damage.
Vince said the disaster is still there but out of sight. There would be no way to clean up a bigger
disaster spill in the north. Look to the
Horizon oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico . Scientists say it is still a disaster present
despite clean up efforts. So is the
estimated 90 billion barrels of crude worth an irrevocable, inevitable
debacle? That is a lot of wealth. The power of greed (the same greedy people
who brought you the great recession in 2008)!
No wonder most Alaskans want it.
I bet Sarah wants it. I’m
disappointed Obama supported it. I know
American security and society benefit if the oil is tapped. I need my gas tank filled. Screw the Eskimos and polar bears and Salmon and
Orca and all the species that have evolved since the beginning of time. I’m willing to throw the dice and add 90
billion barrels for more global climate change.
Sea levels rising no worry. I
live at 800’ elevation—it’s a while before we have ocean front property. Weather has always changed since biblical
times. Read your bible: the bible says there will be 7 years of
drought and 7 years of rain. It’s god’s
fault. Then there are advantages to this crisis. It’s been the dream of sea-farers to save time
and money to sail through the Northwest passage . Let the roulette wheel spin. Am I being
facetious? Yes, I guess that is why I am
opposed to nuclear energy too. How can
one drunken mistake or one I didn’t put the safety valve in correctly or one 3
mile island or one Chernobyl
be worth our children’s children’s future to the 7th generation.
I don’t think the gamble is worth our grandchildren’s future.
Wow, they came riding into town in their gross gas-guzzling Mercedes SUSteeds; paddled their kayaks made of petroleum base and got their pictures on the 5 o’clock news in protest of Shell’s plans. WooHoo! How is that for ridiculing their protest? But then I talked with my friend Vince, who was the spill and safety coordinator for the city of
Are you a gambler?
Dice
The idea
The very idea
When
fortune strikes
Like
a tree-snapping wind storm in November
Misses
you totally in December
Was
it because you couldnt even find a flashlight 11/12
Was
it because you even had water for coffee and a flush on 12/4
Fortune
Oh but poor fortune
Sang
time and time again
Happening
time time time and again
A
neighbors well is dry
Your
garden is a straight flush of abundance
Fate
Fata always one side of the coin
What
humor is needed
Laughter
helps to cure
Only
that fat Buddha jelly belly shaking
I
believe in fairy tales
That
dont always come true
A wish for our children’s planet
Getting In Sync
Can
you hear the heart beat of Gaia
Thump
thumps in deep tuba tones
Look
out what do you see
Mirror
mirror of yourself
Sitting
on an empty shelf
Look
what is reflecting beyond
What
is all the clutter in the picture besides your face
Just
the world you are connected to
Can
you join in all the noise around you
Harmonize
with all that is found old-new
90 billion barrels of wildflowers
Quo Vadis
Tell
me where is Nirvana
Do
not tell me
It
is where the big leaves have gone
Being
part of something so big
Or
so small
What
does it mean
Where
will you go
Rich
food for your friends
Or
nothing at all
What is better
To
pile up gold in your hours
Or
lay in a meadow with your lover
Rolling
in the wild flowers
