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!

Thursday, January 5, 2017

GLUM PASSIVITY


Consider whether anyone can teach you how to be you. You are a surprise that arrived with a timing that permits you the ability to respond to the environment which is ever changing so as to deliver a punch. Do you expect more of yourself than that? Less? There can be a sort of a teacher, if one must have one, who tells only that you should study yourself to know yourself. That teacher, if a teacher it is, never tells you who you are and never administers a test to check up on you. How could he? You are a surprise even to you. Either you want to know yourself or you do not. Seems to me all schools are based on fear. The fear that makes schools happen is the fear that I am not enough (and my child is not enough). Bob Dylan never attended class at the university where he enrolled, saying, I did not have time. I want my grandchildren to be like that. Sadly, teachers at universities, having no clue who they are, cannot deliver the punch they came to deliver so have taken jobs at universities that promise to support them in their glum passivity. For the most part they study people who delivered a punch on time and make students memorize their names. I know that because they give tests which they grade to check up on others who have enrolled to seek the same fate. They want to determine whether any impostors have escaped detection. I also know their students build bombs for war machines and ovens for mass extermination author publications to support political genocide fill penitentiaries and nut houses foment litigation fill prescriptions for drugs otherwise illegal and build games like Wall Street and games to addict children or sell insurance and real estate or edit poetry. Glum passivity born of caustic, scathing criticism of the dreams of children is the main disease. The only cure to know thyself.