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!

Monday, February 19, 2018

And another thing

Go to a lecture at ivy-covered Harvard University (there you will see a living pyramid of ass-kissing action). You'll not hear anything so wise and powerful as time spent alone with a tree. Einstein received Theory of Relativity from a beam of light he watched bouncing around free. And, he was a misfit, an outsider, a daydreamer who wrote to his family, saying, it would have been better had I never been born. Said he wanted to understand how God thinks. Do you and I want that? What better way than to listen to God's own symphony? Indeed, what other way is there? A pyramid? That accursed management tool?

That was a fool's attempt to outwit death. Many workers struggled in service to that monstrosity and not one Pharaoh has come back to collect his treasure (still in the pyramid, stolen, or in a museum) or to give out advice about cheating death. What is known popularly as science operates in a cloudy, murky closet directed from the top down in the image of a pyramid. Same is true of politics and religion and education and business and all facets of the art and speech worlds. All of these are dollar driven. The same figure is displayed on the dollar bill and that's as unstable as a three-legged table. Man, talk about failing to learn from experience!

Life thinks. Anything that comes between man and the way life thinks retards brilliance. Because of the long endured tyranny of pyramid regimentation, which is the opposite of how life thinks, it has always had to come from the fugitive, the misfit, the daydreamer who reaches somehow beyond the weight of suffering loneliness to call attention to truth. Now, more than ever before, do we lack the genius of brilliance. Never did it have to be rare. It need be rare no longer.

If we only will listen, Yours, Oh Sweet Giver of Brilliance, is our deliverance!



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