Leo: Pick a Date

The Stars are Strangers

I don’t have a map. The stars are strangers. Differently configured. Sometimes I’m standing barefoot on a platform drifting across my personal sea, its pulse and heave lulling me.  Other moments on a soft earth, I walk and am nearly stupefied by the intensity of the flower beds, their delicate petals trembling at the slightest breeze; the colours of the leaves on grand trees have shown me greens of such variety that any attempt to describe them would be a spectacular failure and quite likely mortify the personality of the infinite for its shallowness. I take heart in the presence of a forgiving host.

In the last week, my world of the mundane ceased to exist. One caring professional after another informed me that my brain was bleeding and a mass on my liver was cancerous and inoperable. Separate hoe-downs. And the lung specialists explained that they couldn’t use blood thinners on the embolisms embedded in my lungs as such treatment would exacerbate the brain bleed.  A weird dilemma. Who was to know Limbo had a wicked sense of humour? Hence, the inexorable and now dramatically abbreviated trek across my personal sea of mortality.  My death may not be imminent but it will be a surprise for its suddenness and the mystery of its timing is the existential tease.  

So I witness a riotous upheaval of nature and hear words with a micro-observational power.  I see more clearly what my mentor meant when he stated “Words are organic.” And now I contemplate that if words are indeed biological, so is meaning. 

Now I receive affirmations from nature that my body has been invaded, intervened upon, at a time when the planet is suffering a similar crisis.  Poetic  happenstance? Is it egotistical to imagine that the state of my physical health is a true reflection of the state of the macrocosm? Well that amusement works for me at the moment and actually I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that this timing is all entirely relevant to me.  Each of us are tied into the machinations of the universe abroad and our bodies reflect intimately all this divine commingling. The individual  may participate with this godly creation, sometimes ascending into a multidimensional unfolding. Runners and dancers know this. They have stepped into that rarefied atmos of being suspended in continuity of joy.

I have used the terms: “moment” and “time” a couple of times in this minor missive so I need to make myself clear: I believe quite simply that “There is no time. There never was. Just your relationship to the truth… and perhaps for you the extreme and intense peace of knowing.”

Jesua ben Yusef spake : “The very hairs on your head are all numbered.” Well that works the other way too. Through micro-observation and a heightened state of awareness, and an attention span longer then that of a hummingbird’s singular wing-bat, each of us may witness the intensity of Nature’s expansive outbursts, its quiet outbreathings.  And one may spy moreso  then not only the shimmering beauty of it all, but also the mathematics; geometry; the symmetry and balance inherent in life; and the intent of the drive of Nature. 

I keep interlopers at bay now. Cycles of anxiety are dissembling, and fears dissolving. Self persecutions and judgements are all dissipating like the fog on my sea. So there is peace while the personal anger and general turbulence relent.

Now more carefully I move my lips. Now those sounds emit to make sense, even express empathy; so no more obsequious prattle to currie the approval of the listener; no expressions of contempt; not even mean glances escape. I may bestill the cacophony, the noise of humankind, and discover then what has been overwhelming has not been the towering challenge of nature’s current predicament - the species extinctions; the ocean acidification; the temperature rising - no, no, not to fret because it is those words of substance rolled out with continuity of meaning which will deliver resolutions.  

Turn on the silence. Turn off your gadgets. Extend your humanity. Rediscover conversation. Compliment strangers.  I seek out that silence now. I need time for prayer – now there’s a reason for time!  You have been invited into the House of the Creator. At least, wash up.  Fit in. And if you think you’ve gotten lost en route to that holy abode, persevere. That’s what I’m doing now under this new sky, atop this platform which itself sits upon another glassy universe all a’ humbubbling with water-sucking organisms throwing kisses. (And Jeez! The lipsticks!)

Oh, and Yes, I do believe that the state of my outside universe is indeed related to me personally. That's because I believe it is related to each of us personally. Privately. Such is the work of omnipotence. The rabbit in that hat is squirming to get out, be acknowledged.

So you are not a trivial being. We may, each of us, be champions.  Find the meaning. Find the words.  Then: En garde!

. 

Book Store

I believe there  is a vast pool of literary talent being neglected in Vancouver. The reading public has been lulled into buying pocketbooks at supermarkets and bestsellers by the usual string of top-billed authors at play-it-safe bookstores. New ideas from bold intellectuals are being ignored while one crisis after another piles up at the doorstep of civilization.

These writers, of both fiction and non-fiction, need exposure and promotion. The younger ones need editorial guidance and the seniors need a reason to hope that their words will finally be read. We need a hub. Our own store. Our store would offer window displays showcasing these writers for two weeks at a shot; readings; lectures; signings; book sales and the occasional press party to keep the word out. Self-published material will be welcome and courses offered to walk the novices through the steps to becoming a self-published author

I will use my blog, The English Bay Banner, is track the interest in the establishing of the store. Meanwhile, if anyone shares my enthusiasm, they may contact me at harry.langen@gmail.com and in a week or so visit harrylangen.com for my own offerings.

We live in a time where the crises are taking on planetary dimensions. There is not just a role for writers here, but a desperate need.

Book Launch

Sunday, April 23rd, 
250 Powell Street, 
Vancouver. 11 a.m. 

A KEY

Let us make one assumption: that the Creator is giving everything for the enjoyment of mankind. The enjoyment of His children.

And as we enjoy we bring comfort and joy to the Creator; acknowledging His presence and His purpose. Is His beauty not obvious:  perfect balance in your gait; the colours and rich textures; muscles in motion; forest canopies; birdsong; and all those sounds we hear from the creatures of the world which are pleasant and endearing. The endless and ever-changing vistas: the roll of the ocean; the seventh cresting by the shore, and the thrashing of a lively river; the trickling of a radiant creek; the sunlight dappling the leaves of all the various windswept trees; the rising of a crescent moon; the hooting of a night owl; the growls and roars of wild beasts in the hunt hidden by the sway of the tall, yellow grasses. All these complex and diverse manifestations of the natural world given in its pristine state contribute to the possibility of our living in a utopian state.

 

And all of the wild  creatures are driven with an instinct to survive.

                                                             

Today, scientists witness their weird survival strategies: i.e. carpenter ants exploding toxins; the wood frog freezing itself during low temperatures having stored glucose in its liver, which gets released to  ‘play dead’; the electric eel using voltage discharges to keep predators away. All of these game plans and those myriad more even among the microbial populations can only be divined by man as he can appreciate the intelligence (and sometimes humor) of the Creator at work across every segment of the biodiverse universe. But allow me to suggest that man’s interest in survival is not instinctual as in being forced upon him but rather his appetite for life exists as a gift which may be denied. And it is this freedom to deny which marks man as a potential enjoyer of infinite capacity. He is imbued with desires; and may exercise choice.

The body of man facilitates joy. And may also facilitate continuity  of joy. And joy is the exclusive domain of man as his free will functions to receive a steady, intense peace, ascending to its mystic blissful dimension at wondrous moments.  This facility of freedom to receive or deny joy and knowing of self and the Creator is precisely what sets man apart from the rest of the animals of the world. It distinguishes us as more than animal. 

Only man is modest, compassionate, conversant, full of mirth at times and thoroughly unpredictable – a sure sign of freedom. And I have yet to hear an animal laugh.

And man is the only sentient entity which can communicate the ideas of his mind, his anxieties and his preoccupation with existential contemplations. And it is this unique mindfulness through which we may abide in knowing.      

These are the components which define man as a spiritual being. 

We will not re-establish Utopia on earth in our lifetime but it is critical that we witness the way Nature has configured the world, including the cosmic macrocosm and that intriguing microcosm so as to deliver a sense of wonder and awe and the thrill of being alive; included in a divine household. We need to allow nature to continue in its execution of Life as though this were a Utopian environment.

It would begin with our withdrawing from our interventions – even the well-intended restoration projects attempting to re-introduce species, in an attempt to return to a vaguely defined base line. (Ever see the face of someone who has undergone too much facial plastic surgery? Is that the face we want to plaster on our delicate earth?) Injecting into the environment our version of corrections to the ecological state (unbalanced or not) is foolhardy – the puzzle being far too complex. It is not for man to create. It is for man to participate with Creation.

Only the Creator can rectify the mess man has made. Man must

withdraw and stop all interventions – all the industrial activity driven by the mindsets of the wealth-addicted whose joyless version of wealth is a fraud.

Since when did any of us entitle the wealth-addicted to plunder our planet and put us all in peril? And now with the onset of the sixth extinction – the Anthropocene extinction (meaning as brought about by the activity of man) – we face a classic Hobson’s choice. Make the radical changes necessary now to avert planetary cataclysms before they are beyond our control or await  Nature’s correction. Fierce and merciless.  Welcome then to the dark side of the Doomsday Clock. 

Climate changes of a drastic nature are already upon us: the rising of sea levels with the melting of vast glaciers; the firestorms across the drylands we have fashioned; even earthquakes (overdue) are all easily foreseeable to any half-informed scientist.

As gloomy as it may seem, it is useless and self-serving to deny that we as a planetary guest have outlived our welcome. Having acted abusively to our host, we are being shown the door.  

The greed of the wealth-addicted is a virus and it is to that virus that we are all succumbing. The homeless are buying lottery tickets and the obscenely wealthy would still sell their grandmother on a pump and dump scheme. It pleases these one percenters to impose their skewed value system on the masses. The psychopathic behaviour of billionaire CEO’s must now be viewed as criminal where the environment is concerned.

The consequence of nature behind the wheels of the necessary drastic changes required to assure her survival on this planet, is the occasioning of such blights as to throttle the populations of continents and re-jig the whole layout. The rules of Nature aren’t necessarily changing. It’s just that they will manifest in such a way as to clear the board.  New dice.

It is time for a revolution of thought. The masses need to put themselves on a war footing. Outlaw the use of plastic shopping bags would be a start. People would comply once informed that they have been strangling the sea beasts with the residue of these non-biodegradable bags of convenience. There is a host of ways (listed later in this work) the masses can act upon so that each ordinary individual may begin to feel that he is making an extraordinary impact at a time of emergency. This dire circumstance of the dwindling wild habitat isn’t imminent. It is upon us.  Your role, dear reader, may enrich your life, bringing a thrilling meaningfulness to it. Otherwise, you can expect your grandchildren to wonder legitimately: "Why didn't you do something?"

'Occupying' space is a futile form of protest. You have the power to go beyond the role of protester to that of revolutionary.

And as importantly: would it not behoove us all to clean up our own act before we presume to tackle the house-cleaning of the planet? We need to bring to the table a robustness of our own physical and mental health to reflect then what we are hoping to achieve in the major tinkering of planet restoration. Start by eliminating those habits which limit your enjoyment of personal power.

Find a relationship with the personality of the Infinite and you will have found the philosopher’s key. Doors open. A clock stops ticking.  Then, with a clear-headed itinerary in hand, deal from the new deck.

Towards a Global Credo

There is an ocean of plastic strangling our sea beasts. In remote terrain the rainfall is poisoned and the rivers polluted even when there is nothing upstream to explain the sickly deluge. Animal species are increasingly becoming extinct. Gone forever. The human encroachment is even threatening the honeybees which carry the seeds.

The wealth-addicted have presumed the authority to continue their devastation of our natural resources on a global scale and the ordinary person is feeling overwhelmed and defeated by the unchecked onslaught. The faceless corporations have been given person status thus legitimizing their psychopathic conduct and they are behind

the wheel of the bulldozers uprooting our lives and creating a wild imbalance.

This planetary plundering contributes to a state of paralyzing fear. Moral sense is succumbing to the shadows which will outreach now across generations. 

Welcome to the dark side of the Doomsday Clock and the results of our collective inertia.

We did not entitle the wealth-addicted to take such unmitigated liberties with our home. Their industrial activity brutalizes our delicately balanced earth and its visually stunning creatures; pollutes our uproarious seas and thrashing rivers; even our mountain streams and the skies are in their stranglehold. How many more whales will beach themselves and how many more bumblebees will perish before we demand that the obscenely rich pay their dues back to the soil, back to the air we breathe and back to the extremely impoverished who are the victims of this hysteria?

The obsessed bean-counters need to be taken to task. The few people among us who have not misplaced their moral compass need to speak up, to agitate, to arouse the populace of what’s left of the civilized world to raise a banner and a sword if need be to arrest their criminal activity, to take the keys away from the maniacs and drive our ecology back some semblance of balance.

Or is it too late? Is the damage done irreversible? Some scientists would, despairing, say, Yes. Yes it is too late. But what choice do we have? We have to act. Gathering to “occupy” is like attempting to swat one fly in a furious black cloud. Meandering on city streets en masse amounts to no more than a day off work. 

We need an agenda. And it will not be scripted by a politician nor a lawyer, all too busy with their convoluted gabfests.

Start at your bank. The first item on the agenda which would have an impact, at least to awaken the establishment to our power. Withdraw your money. You can count. Disengage from these institutions which extract your cash at the expense of your time and your peace of mind. To hell with their management of your capital, their creepy fees and their penalties. Then withdraw your consumer support of those products which are superfluous in your life. Assure that you do not buy products from any corporation which pays its CEO’s and directors any more than two million dollars a year. Identify the parent companies of all those household products which they pitch us repeatedly. Stop buying these poisons. Interfere with this ghastly, death-delivering cycle. And until the production of plastic shopping bags is outlawed, bring your own bag to carry home your goods. can have an impact. And these are a few simple tips that could have a real impact. No more excuses.

And then insist that the few super-rich who manage the bulk of the capital of the world they don’t wait until they’re dead to bequeath their money to charity but to use it now to buy the land required to protect the endangered species around the globe. The clock is ticking. Buy in Africa, India, and those countries which host the last of the remaining numbers of our tigers, rhinos, elephants et al; and soon to be added to this grim list the elegant, iconic giraffe.

In the last 50 years we have lost 60% of all of our species. Extinct. Never to return. The bell is ringing. It’s time, now, to launch the rescue mission. Keep sounding that alarm in your every conversation. Interrupt the digi-dolts on their texting toys to communicate to them the urgency of this message.

People without hope, despair and become users of drugs. Punishing them for their despair is hardly an answer. Support the creation of rehab farms to take the place of sadistic jails to help people to rediscover their personhood, their integrity, their morals and their blossoming health. We will need all that renewed citizenry to chip in to this revolution. Maybe then. Maybe. Maybe we’ll raise our banner high enough that hope will return.      

Empty houses dot our neighbouring landscapes like warts. The children don’t go to school from that house. The mother doesn’t go shopping. The father doesn’t buy tools at Home Hardware for his latest project. The grandparents don’t visit. No one from that house will encounter a neighbour and join them for coffee at their favourite restaurant. No one there will order pizza or subscribe to a newspaper. No barbeques or conversations across the fence. No gardening or music playing. No dancing or laughter. These houses are black moral holes owned by some shell company hiding the criminal money flowing in from a communist country or a deposed dictator’s account.

Now count the increasing number of homeless people shivering on church stairs facing a locked door. 

Meanwhile, the criminal gangs are buying land and houses and businesses with their ill gotten proceeds; the proceeds derived from poisoning our children with their dope; while the RCMP gang squad set up a sting operation at a cost of millions to entrap two morons who thought it might be cool to be called terrorists – a thought the RCMP undercover guy planted. The case gets tossed. Go figure.   

Greed is an infection, a virus, but insidious and highly contagious. Its corrupting force brings itself to bear even upon the juvenile mind… and from what I can observe of what is popular on television or in the movie-making business, the mass of men lead lives of salacious juvenile anxiety. That greed is of a spiritual well-spring, its visibility is found manifest in the dearth of lively curiosity; and physically in the humdrum, boxy architecture of modern condominiums and the gawdy, self-absorbed abstractions that pass as art. Whining and public displays of grief are taken to heart as being somehow meaningful while the only ones left laughing all the way to the bank are the bankers. The insidious virus that is greed may be winning the day for the obscenely rich but their deathbed throes will tell the tale of the emptiness and ultimate fear that has ruled their roost in private, unseen ways.

But the impoverished may take heart in the knowing that the gobbledygook of lawyers will not impact the thunder. The sly strategies of the politician will not amuse the universal lawgiver. The wealth addicted will not stay the hand of Nature. In that, we, the downtrodden, may enjoy some old-fashioned, hand-rubbing glee.

Nature will have its way.

We need leaders and we won’t find them among the politicians or in that system where those elected to represent our concerns are more concerned about being re-elected.  Partisan voting at the expense of our environment is immoral. Republicans crushed Obama’s efforts to make real change. Their constant partisan voting delivered to the world the election of a man whose egomania is now behind the controls of a super-power.

The leaders we desperately need won’t be found among the black-robed men and women enjoying another round of court cases obfuscating the issues bearing down upon the health of the earth and its inhabitants. Enormous amounts of the peoples’ capital is being wasted on nuisance trials and appeals. When it is obvious what needs to be done to rescue a people or a species, these word-twisters throw roadblocks in the way assuming the guise of championing individual rights.  They are causing havoc and people are dying, i.e.  waiting for organ transplants from the reduced list of donors thanks to some fussy lawyer preventing donor status from appearing on driver’s licenses. Decisions for the public good can’t be made and acted upon because exorbitantly expensive bafflegabbers are jamming up the system with their endless arguments.

The decisions required are of a global scale. A global Council of Elders, educated men and women, needs to be established to contend with the global issues which are demanding action today.  They must be empowered, apolitical and with only one clear cut objective: the rescuing of our earth and its inhabitants; and then in that effort they may well discover the need to include in the rescue plan a new distribution of wealth, ending the hoarding and extreme accumulation of funds which have tilted the world toward this gloomy forecast.

The Council members may also take note that the surest way to prevent the environmental calamity is by leaving Nature alone. Stop all industrial harvesting, let the earth breathe and rehabilitate itself. Let us all abide by a hands-off policy for a year and witness then the remarkable regenerative power of earth and its oceans to bring about its own healing.

Either way: Nature will have its way.          

The Clock is Ticking

Our planet is being plundered. Animal species are increasingly endangered of becoming extinct. There is an ocean of plastic strangling our sea beasts. The rainfall is poisoned and the rivers polluted even when there is nothing upstream to explain the sickly deluge. The masses are frightened and have abandoned all moral sense. The wealth-addicted have presumed the authority to continue their devastation of our natural resources on a global scale and the ordinary person is feeling overwhelmed and defeated by the unchecked onslaught. Corporations have been given person status thus legitimizing their psychopathic conduct and they are behind the wheel of the bulldozers uprooting our lives and creating a wild imbalance. Welcome to the dark side of the Doomsday Clock and the results of collective inertia.

We did not entitle the wealth-addicted to take such unmitigated liberties with our earth and its creatures; our seas and the rivers; even our mountain streams and the skies. How many more whales will beach themselves and how many more bumblebees will perish before we demand that the obscenely rich pay their dues back to the earth, back to the air we breathe and back to the extremely impoverished who are the victims of this hysteria. The obsessed bean-counters need to be taken to task. The few people among us who have not misplaced their moral compass need to speak up, to agitate, to arouse the populace of what’s left of the civilized world to raise a banner and a sword if need be to arrest the devastating industrial activity, to take the keys back and drive our ecology back to some semblance of balance, and sanity.

Or is it too late? Is the damage done irreversible? Some scientists would, despairing, say Yes. Yes it is too late. But what choice do we have? We have to act.

And the first place to start would be with those elements of the establishment which support the status quo; which protect the avenues of outrageous wealth accumulation and blatant greed. Start at your bank. Withdraw your money. You can count. Disengage from these institutions which extract your cash at the expense of your time and your peace of mind. To hell with their management of your capital, their creepy fees and their penalties. Then withdraw your consumer support of those products which are superfluous in your life. Assure that you do not buy products from any corporation which pays its CEO’s and directors any more than two million dollars a year. Identify the parent companies of all those household products which they tell us repeatedly that we need and just stop buying these poisons. Interfere with this ghastly, death-delivering cycle. And until the production of plastic shopping bags is outlawed, bring your own bag to carry home your goods. These are a few simple tips that could have a real impact. You can have an impact. No more excuses.

And then insist that the few super-rich who manage the bulk of the capital of the world they don’t wait until they’re dead to bequeath their money to charity but to use it now before its too late to buy the land required to protect the endangered species around the globe. Buy in Africa, India, and those countries which host the last of the remaining numbers of our tigers, elephants, rhinos et al and soon to add to this grim list the elegant, iconic giraffe.

Can we turn the tide?

In the last 50 years we have lost 60% of all of our species. Extinct. Never to return. The bell is ringing. Keep sounding that alarm in your every conversation. Interrupt the digi-dolts on their texting toys to communicate to them the urgency of this message.

And support the creation of rehab farms rather than jails to help people to rediscover the magnificence of their humanity, their integrity, their morals and their blossoming health. We will need all that renewed brainpower to chip in to this revolution. 

Maybe then. Maybe. Maybe the righteous will raise the banner high enough and wave it with such determined vigor that hope will return.   

Hence: Freedom

Throughout my life I have attempted to examine it. Life. Laying my mind on all its aspects which seemed to me to be relevant to my enjoyment and sometimes endurance of it. Relationships, jobs, social systems et al.

One thing became quite clear: that life in all its complexity delivers and accommodates man enabling him to enjoy. The very idea of 'enjoying' is complex.  In all of this ongoing deliverance, I have spied a personality... not quite lurking but nor is it in my face. Thus I use the term Creator; without implying any religiosity whatsoever. I have accepted not only that the Creator exists but it has a personality. 

Those are my leaps which having taken them have helped to explain much. Primarily the reason for the existence of man (for both the Creator's enjoyment and man's); and much about the Way in which the delivery occurs - and as to enjoying this delivery, this can only occur with man's permission. We see only as much as we permit ourselves to see; thus: the Creator does not force Himself upon His children but avails Himself to them.  

This is not an outline of a religious ideology but simply my take on the purposes behind the gift of Life. I do not insist people share this personal perception.  Truth is ultimately both: relative and absolute - as the village well is absolutely water, its use and enjoyment is relative to the villager.

Hence: Freedom. Freedom to enjoy.

PROPOSAL FOR THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING

While watching The Theory of Everything about Stephen Hawking's life, I heard the statement that Mr Hawking is still looking for the formula in physics which would elegantly describe the theory of everything. As in Einstein's theory of relativity, it would be simple, almost poetic, and an insight that most people could comprehend. At the time of watching, it occurred to me that this challenge of finding that formula could be approached from a poetic perspective. After some contemplation I am satisfied that the following is at least a proposal worth considering:

INFINITY = ENERGY OBSERVED. How this would look in physics' symbols I don't know yet.

PURPORT RE FORMULA

The observer I believe is necessary that continuity has (experiences?) purpose.

GENESIS: CHAPTER ONE VERSE FOUR: "And God saw the light and that it was good."

VERSE 31 (AFTER THE CREATION OF MAN): "And God saw everything He had made, and, behold, it was very good."

In the creation of man, God has assured that He will be observed then, not just by Himself.

The act of observing changes the thing observed.

The New Vancouver Identity

The fentanyl crisis is not really all that surprising once we acknowledge the reasons for this overuse and suicidal behaviour. The addicts and those prone to becoming addicts are existing with very little hope in a society driven by greed. Our doors here are wide open and welcoming to criminals laundering their money through dirty real estate deals; including even our mayor getting in on real estate profiteering. The premier, the prototypical west end elitist, hasn’t raised the monthly welfare rate going on eight years. That’s the extent of her care for the extremely poor. The churches are closed at night with their vacant basements while the homeless are turned away by filled-to-capacity shelters. The bodies are sleeping and trembling on the stairs of those closed churches. Christianity at work?  No one can afford the rents any more let alone the welfare recipient and no one really cares about treatment for these addicts. With the exception of a few lone voices in the wilderness. But committee meetings and bureaucrats  on the periphery of the poverty-stricken neighbourhoods are generating fat pay cheques.

Someone who actually cares needs to get in here, roll up his or her sleeves and get the job done: Open rehab farms across the province financed by all the savings which would accumulate from not having to send out the firetrucks and the manpower 24/7 with Naloxone, currently being administered by volunteer citizens.

The wealth-addicted and the Vancouver elitists should be ashamed of themselves.

 Now Vancouver is not only a “no fun” city, it is place to die without a home and without  hope.

>

Nero Played Fiddle. Obama Flashed His Teeth

The Winning(?) Smile

The sun is setting on the presidency of Barack Obama. The “Hope and change” era has come and gone. ISIS has murdered, beheaded, burnt and slaughtered countless men, women and children and still occupies pockets of Syria, Iraq, West Africa and elsewhere. Their numbers have increased with the promise of the ‘value package’: a pay cheque, a gun and a woman. Their ideology is totally scrambled but somehow it’s enough to inspire morons around the world to commit cowardly acts of mayhem – suicide bombings; nightclub patron massacres; marketplace bombings etc etc. They really don’t care who they kill. Obama has permitted Putin to invade the Ukraine while their military was on parade in Kiev; bomb the hell out of Aleppo in a wicked little deal with the maniacal Bashar Al-Assad regime and with his thumbs screwed into his ears, wagging his fingers at Obama at every turn, gloating. Putin has identified Obama as a pussy and is crossing that ‘red line’ repeatedly and with riotous nonchalance.

    About two years ago, I suggested in this e-zine a simple plan to resolve the ISIS crisis: In concert with civilized European countries, Declare War on ISIS and their confederate organizations. Simultaneously (so no one country would be targeted for revenge).  With intelligence provided by drones and CIA agents on the ground, ten or so countries could then mobilize the ground forces in such overwhelming numbers as to wipe these bastards off the face of the earth.  No refugee crisis would have evolved. Nobody drowning in the Mediterranean or dying on marathon hikes out of the country.  Obama, much pleased with his glorious speechifying and Hollywood handsomeness, fumbled, dithered and procrastinated. The whole time the murderous thug, Putin, was having and still is having a grand time selling his brand (himself) to his people. The Russians are buying it and willing to suck up the sanctions.

      The other strategy to defeat terrorist organizations is to outlaw the hosting on the internet any such messages which would provoke violence. Crash their internet outreach. And then: the media should never publish pictures of i.e. the Orlando killer or any of the so-called lone wolves. They don’t exist. Don’t give them one second of fame let alone 15 minutes or weeks of it.

    In this writer’s view, all of this should have been implemented years ago during Obama’s first tenure. He will retire with that million dollar smile and the ghastly legacy of millions of innocents dead and a totally destabilized Syria and Iraq and the other morally weak nations following suit.

    The United Nations allows the Russian ambassador to veto any just reciprocation to this ongoing slaughter in Syria. This makes the Council a joke, an embarrassment and its uselessness exposed by the lack of will on the part of civilized countries to do anything. Saudi Arabia is quietly playing their chess game on both sides of the table as are other countries who could bring to bear their military might and make the significant changes that are screaming desperately to be made. Just listen to the bloodied children wailing after their homes and family have been bombed all to hell.

     We have gone to war for a lot less.

     The only positive aspects of Obama’s legacy are the Affordable Care Act (which needs serious reconstruction) and thanks to his wife, Michelle, the prevention of Donald Trump from becoming president. Not much for eight years. 

    With Prime Minister Justin Trudeau riding high in the popularity poll, why couldn’t he prevail now upon these countries and instigate this aggressive but sensible plan?  He needs to find his military pants. Enough smiling, folks. Roll up your sleeves, man up and do the right thing. Annihilate ISIS.  Obama has until January.  Pick up the phone, Justin.

Leaps of Faith

As the author of this book and two others previously, I take a leap of faith in a readership.  It takes years to write a book, especially when the writer is not independently wealthy, and the time it takes is a sacrifice.

It's your turn to take a leap.

Similar to ordering from the net, it takes time to deliver the product. Your product will be delivered on November 15th at the book launch. If by then there are not more than 500 orders for this title, the contest will be cancelled - no treasure chest.

The onus is on the readership now. My work is done.

THE TABLET

THIS TABLET NEEDS A REWRITE. MORE POETIC PLEASE. THEN IT NEEDS TO BE REITERATED EVERY WEEK. THE ECO-ORGANIZATIONS, LIKE OCEANA AND LEONARDO DICAPRIO'S GROUP COULD JOIN IN ESTABLISHING A PROTOTYPE CITY NEWSPAPER SUPPORTED INITIALLY BY SPONSORHIP ADS FROM THESE ECO-ORGANIZATIONS.

UNLESS THE MESSAGE IS REPEATED WITH SOME VARIATION, IT WON'T MAKE THE NECESSARY IMPACT. IT HAS TO GET IN TO THE MAILBOXES. 

As a free willed and intelligent species we need to  acknowledge the impact of our activities on the health of our planet and its sustainability as supportive of human existence.

Look no further than the establishment to find culpability.  Disengage from immoral institutions starting with your bank.
PURPORT: Banks are corporations. Legally, corporations are considered “individuals.” By their impersonal and greedily collusive conduct, they qualify as individuals. Psychopathic individuals. 

Suspend trawling and all forms of industrialized fishing. 

PURPORT: Just because advances have been made in mass harvesting techniques doesn’t make them good advances. Empowering boat owners to rape the seas is not forethoughtful management of the fish stock. Certain breeds of fish are nearing extinction, to wit the east coast cod.

WE MUST END:
*clear cutting and other destructive forms of deforestation; fracking which destablizes the water table, wasting the water; and modernize factories and manufacturing plants and situate them away from rivers and oceans. 
PURPORT: Foresters, manufacturers and factory owners now have the option to implement new design and functioning methodologies which would not so severely devastate the environment.

*the use of plastics starting with shopping bags.

PURPORT: Residue of plastics are choking the seas and require immediate removal. Use the same biodegradable  grocery bag when shopping.  

*all industrial activity which pollutes the air or negatively affects the ozone;  then turn off the city lights so the wonder of our neighbouring galaxies can be witnessed world over.

*sport hunting and trade in ivory and anything else which would threaten the existence of a species.

PURPORT: Trade trophy hunting for trophy photography. Same thrill minus the bloodlust. Owning ivory products should be a matter of shame, not pride. Education is required of the Chinese masses.

Disarm civilians and reduce the arming of police to eliminate the use of  lethal force. PURPORT: If a civilian wants to enjoy the handling of guns and rifles, let him go to a gun range. There are many alternatives to subdue an attacker or violent person which don’t involve the use of lethal force. Killing a pencil-wielder is supporting bloodlust and is not a sign of an enlightened civilization. 

Destroy the poppy fields of Afghanistan replacing the crops with viable alternatives: rice, melon and beans etc. PURPORT: The poppy fields of Afghanistan represent the supply source of 90% of hard drugs.

Redistribute obscene private wealth to offer financial relief to those affected by these reforms. And then: heal the wealth addicted.

PURPORT: The wealthy will finally find relief and joy in doing something meaningful with their money. 

For Vocal Coaches

Hi Josh:

As we work together in reacquainting me with reading music and then to singing those notes crisply giving each its due, I wonder if we might also occasionally examine an area of cymatics which I believe the bewildered scientists aren't getting.

Snowflake

The designs they see being created by i.e. the sand granules are in fact the original, universal note configurations. Would it not be possible then to 'write' music with these designs; and/or videotape the designs created when playing i.e. Mozart, or Beethoven etc? with a view to eventually composing the most beautiful looking score as shown in the arrangements of these cymatic designs? I would expect the loveliest of music would lend itself to remarkably symmetrical, exquisitely balanced designs. Perhaps, you may some day be composing a musical score within a mandala you are creating in accordance with these universal designs reflecting the assortment of cymatic 'notes.'? 

Is the snowflake design then evidence of a divine orchestra? Musical notes falling from the sky?

NEVER LONELY

I live alone. No pets. Don’t enjoy TV much. Don’t eat out. Cook alone. Eat alone. I walk alone. I sleep alone. I am the victim of ageism. Sometimes slander. And have been assaulted and am occasionally threatened.
I am not afraid. And I am not lonely.
When I encounter a person, a stranger, I make a point of saying something gentlemanly like “Good morning. How are you today?” and I sound like I mean it; because I do. I do care about how they are today. When I find a reason to expand on the one-liner and perhaps mention the weather as being pleasant or find some other relevant anecdotal comment to include, I watch their reaction with extreme care and I find in their hint of a smile, which I aim and look for, a contentment. I hear in their voice all of their humanity and sometimes it seems I notice an ancestral presence too. I can usually tell them them if they’re European, Irish, Brit or American and they find that charming. Sometimes, when I'm on my game, I surmise that they are a parent and tell them how many children they have and which genders (has to do with micro-observation, their breathing etc.). And usually, within a minute or shorter, I can find something humorous to add. And then there in their face I see the handwriting of God. It is in this brief exchange that I am filled. The magnificence of their humanity has touched me. I have been, as it were, topped off. 
Good to go.

THREE TELLING HOURS

The SWAT team in Orlando arrived and rather than taking immediate action to gain ingress to the nightclub where murder was in progress took positions outside the club and waited. For three hours. They waited and listened to the gunfire for three hours until an armoured vehicle was finally dispatched to go in through a wall. By then 50 people had been slaughtered. How many of them had been killed after the SWAT team had arrived and proceeded to do nothing?  What explains why they waited? Could they not have used equipment to locate the shooter and then gain ingress at a point where they would have been safe?

This isn’t the first time this lethargic sort of response has been the order of the day while mass murdering was going on.

It may not be politically correct to call it this way but this writer sees cowardice. And the lack of action could be argued to be criminally negligent. These members of this elite fighting group need to take their own pulse, and come alive. We have evidence of men acting frightened to the point of immobilization at the scene of a horrendous crime being undertaken by one gunman. One. Where were the stun grenades? Sleeping gas? Snipers? Anybody doing anything for three hours?

The American SWAT team has become the SQUAT team.

Gun Crazed Consequences

The Pulse gay nightclub in Orlando is the latest scene of mass murder in the U.S. Fifty people no longer have a pulse and that is the direct consequence of a gun-crazed culture. 

The Yanks will never get it. Their movies (with the actors' complicity); their TV and video games; their whole culture is driven by gunplay. The Second Amendment ('Right to bear arms') was written  when horse thieves were hung.  Who needs an assault rifle (700 rounds a minute) today, in a land of the free?  Not even the bobbies in Britain are armed with lethal weapons and the murder count there is almost non-existent.  

All this grieving and day after condolence-giving is meaningless. Amend that Amendment and make it illegal to own assault rifles and make it extremely difficult to even own a gun. 

Create theme parks where people can go and use rifles and guns under controlled circumstances. 

Institutions like Canon cameras and Nikon could lead a campaign against the NRA to eliminate trophy hunting and replace that weird 'sport' with trophy photography. Assist the gun retailers with switching over to camera and video equipment sales. Make movies instead of killing living beings. 

There are ways to satisfy this gun-crazed desire. 

But as long as our movies and video games glorify killing with guns, and the guns are at hand, we're all victims-in-waiting. 

Leadership Please

Dear Editor:

WITH LEADERSHIP ANSWERS ARE SIMPLE

As to our housing ‘crisis’ in Vancouver, may I suggest a simple resolution? Track where the money came from to purchase these homes and if the purchase funds are illicitly gotten as in Chinese criminals laundering their funds through third cousins etc and Hells’ Angels profiteering  in real estate from their dope-dealing activity then expropriate all those properties backdating 20 years and put them back on the market for legitimate immigrants and the at-risk-of-extinction Canadian Vancouverites.

Vacant homes would no longer dot our landscape and our neighbourhoods would become alive (and healthy) again.

Taking a stand against money laundering requires one little element in play: Leadership.

Curiouser and Curiouser

When completing a book manuscript I feel a tremendous sense of gratification on several levels. That I finished it at all. That it is a creative completion. That it is an offering made with thoughtfulness to entertain and educate the reader. That it required discipline. That it will read well for generations and that it is a statement of the times and of my perspective being offered with some humility to contribute to the pool of knowledge by which we may guide our lives to new dimensions of happiness and continuity of joy. 

Then the response. Nothing. My neighbours haven’t read The Dead Sea Revelation or Raising a Banner on a Path of Heart. Included in this non-readership,  my relatives. Two of my neighbours actually returned the Banner book, unread. The library claims of the two Dead Sea books, one was stolen; and one was damaged but they haven’t reordered.

My neighbours and acquaintances like to introduce me as a famous author – or at least an author – but that’s it. No readers.

I explore and write about human potential. And the absence of curiosity about my work is telling its own tale.

I happen to believe I am now writing from the dark side of the Doomsday Clock given that we as a species are facing the very real possibility of annihilating ourselves as we continue to strike an imbalance thanks to the wealth-addicted one-percenters. I wrote Leonardo DiCaprio, head of a New York based ecological foundation and recently winner of an Academy Award with a suggestion we establish a dialogue to help his foundation become much more effective. After some string-pulling to get the letter into this celebrity’s hands, no response.

This across-the-board disinterest is getting curiouser and curiouser. In a depressing way. For more than ten years I have been e-zining this English Bay Banner and there have been almost no comments posted. 

Soon enough I won’t exist. And my words having been dismissed before being read will wilt away.  And people will go on reading the fashionista and foodie columns in the ad rags masking themselves as newspapers and live(?) as usual scratching away in darkness at the interior wall of their cave of fear.