THE STORY OF JOHNNY WHOOPER SWAN We go to school trusting our parents. We meet a teacher there who stands up front with a big desk, and a pointer. She or he trains us in an authoritative manner. We attach mentally to a life long need for authority in order to live lives successfully. Right so far? In my case, at the age of 25 I was ready to enter the practice of law where I hoped for success and a happy life finally. Very shortly, very shortly, I became anxious. There was a foreboding. I was made more uncomfortable with each experience. Law work is nothing like what I was told it would be. The system is corrupt. But I still cling to my expectation that career success is necessary to my happiness as a man. Each day my grasp of what the fuck success amounts to after all becomes more clouded, murkier. I hear songs on the airwaves and at concerts which describe my life as the life of a fool. What am I becoming? I want to rip off my business suit to run naked in the street with my hair on fire! But I am too afraid. In strange, weird (weird comes from a word meaning wise), fragmented steps I go about a journey of my own believing myself to be the first man to have failed in such a total way which journey works so as to break up my career, end a marriage, and start an entirely new way of relating with my two children whom I love deeply. Almost magically I meet a woman who is a career counselor who asserts a beautiful message that I am made to be joyful in my work everyday and at all levels. This understanding sets me on a completely new course. It is no longer a world of systems to me but an undivided one of unlimited beauty. It reminds me of a painting. A true masterpiece. I am drawn from within to learn the truth about my identity and nobody else can teach me that. From this point onward I will use thinking capacity for mastering mechanical processes and follow my heart, which includes my whole nature, which includes your whole nature and that of every human being for all the rest. I’ll go by the name Johnny Whooper Swan who does not explain itself to anyone. By my fruits shall I be known. Watch me soar!

Sunday, November 19, 2017

In 1962, a very young 20 year old Bob Dylan sang the song, No More Auction Block For Me, in Greenwich Village, NYC. It is a song from the heart of an escaped slave. At heart, every slave longs to be free. Every one. Bob was not singing to any set of people, but to all who would listen. He made real and present what he was living. Imagination it was not. His show was authentic.

No more auction block for me
No more, no more…many thousands gone.

Today's professional sports drafting systems, what are they, really?

The massive education systems around the world, what are they, really?

The corporate employment web tied so closely with the education systems, what is it, really?

The ridiculous cyberspace systems offered to connect you to to clients and customers and fans to further your career, what are they, really?

The mind boggling, incomprehensible health care regimes, what are they, really?

The many election processes spread across the globe, what are they, really?

Auctions, auctions everywhere, count them if you care or dare.
No chains? no whips? no salt in the wound? Look into the hearts, I swear, it's all still there-
outrageous profits pour into the hands of mint julip sippin' porch sitters who secretly sneer-striking bargains in flesh with motion of a hand over here over there…
Then discarded heaps of bone.
Going. Go-ing. Gone.

A growling messenger came to town, the people listened and though they frowned
what won them over was just a moment on stage in a cheap plastic crown
and the new brand of awful games going down. Down. Down.

The kids of the sixties in the streets could not see the sneering enemy loves protesters who only wish to be free; so they ask him to jail them-
and thus let them be?

Dylan saw that which others have not-
the masters of war who carry no weapon call every shot…

Bang!

as a crowd of human beings rails at its oppressors this message:

Feed us! Feed us!
Give what you promised, we're weak and we're greedy!
Give what you promised, we're weak and we're greedy!
Give what you promised, we're weak and we're greedy!


Who are these human beings who not who they be?


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