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, January 7, 2018


 The Hive Of Man



Any hive of bees is proof the way is here and it is now. Twas no solemn oath made me as I am. And none such nonsense can add a twiddle to my stature nor my worth. Furthermore, my true calling is beyond the grasp of any but a god. I am human. Oaths are insults to dignity. Today is no dress rehearsal. Now is my only moment!

Was anyone made to be a Jew? Was anyone made to be a Comanche? In both cases the position taken is you cannot afford to be who you are. I say, I cannot afford not to. Were you not truly made to be what is nameless and free? Can any betrayal be more serious? Are you not by the very betrayal destined to be enslaved? You and I have to serve somebody. Think. DO THOSE YOU HAVE DECIDED TO TRUST TO BRING YOU HAPPINESS HAVE IN THEIR HANDS ANY HAPPINESS TO BRING? Not one single ounce! They are not to blame. They have not what you need. In fact, they need it too. What is obviously demanded is a world where all nations are called by one name.

When a people are willing to stand as they are, naked and separate, anonymous, humble, absent guile, and tell the truth a discovery that is shocking is to be made. We are one, not on the outside, but within. As made, we are one. All of us, one. No exclusion. All people are my own people.



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