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, February 4, 2018

-Let Them Fill The Air-

Bob Dylan was interviewed in the 60's. The journalists asked repeatedly, “What thoughts do you have on why you are so famous?” They kept on asking even though Bob kept on repeating, “I don't know.” That did not stop the question.

It's enough to make you sick. But, there is a revelation worthy of attention. In the culture mass produced here what is of interest is not how do you create such profound art. It is how does one become very popular. The presumption behind the question asked of Mister Dylan is that what people here want is to be famous. Not to do something worthwhile. If so, it is sad. If not so, it is darn irresponsible to foster the notion that we are that way.

I am led to consider that the field of journalism has always really been a science of how to spread the disease of wanting fame. All news is how to get famous. It shows one can do so by doing something grand or by doing something terrible or by doing something weird. It proves that fame is false. Only bored, dull minds want to be false. I have a feeling Da Vinci and Dylan wanted to be left alone, quite confident, satisfied they have been being busy being born.

It is apparent to most readers that news is predominantly bad news or weird news. Man bites dog. In fact, a report that someone did a grand thing is really a report of the obvious. A grand thing is going to be obvious to its recipients. No report is going to add to its grandeur. By golly, we flat do not trust ourselves to be alert. What is called news is gossip for dull, bored minds. I have gone many months without any to find that within a day I can catch up.


Better it would be to have more of us being busy being born. Let the music be there. Let them fill the air.

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