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 4, 2018

STUPID CLOUD #3

History, that joke everybody invites into their minds,
like taking medicine to keep us sick, to promote
the cloudiness there, was last seen for the hoax
it is shortly after two back-to-back world wars
destroyed forever our faith in each other and
we in the USA forgot that all the Giants before
had fucked things so badly we could not bear to
look at what had been done in the names of our
flags and the USA obediently took its turn as
lords of destiny for all mankind.


Hey, you have to remain convinced of a cloud of stupidity
to suffer this world's countless laughable images. Nations
are imaginary. All of them, not just the other guy's. Yours!
There is no cloud where your information is stored. You think
that way simply because you believe yourself to be unworthy
of freedom. Undeserving of real strength. You are your only
hope for an escape from the programmed nuthouse.
One nut at a time.


I heard an intelligent man speak recently of what it means to be.
an American. He is capable. Has lots of money. He is a boss.
Yet he chooses to speak of clouds that do not exist. What it means to be
an American? Only someone who is willing to falsify a presentation
to others will talk in such a manner.


Nobody is American. The ones who call themselves that have the least
right of all to the name.


We are all of us simply individuals. We are what the wind says we are.
Listen. Ask, instead, what does it mean to be alive? Fail in this and
remain in the nuthouse. A place anything can happen.


Many inside the circle of nuts have promised to straighten out the circle
of idiots from inside it. They write greed driven memos and books and
hold seminars and lead retreats and give sermons and speeches while they
live off the war.

What the Hell good is that?

How, pray tell, can a greedy man teach another greedy man
to stop being greedy?


Okay, the country song goes,

I'll be at peace when they lay me down”


But, listen, should you fail to find the peace
you wish for before death, how you gonna find
it as a skeleton?

I mean, if you cannot find it with a living brain
tied to a living heart...and a lantern...and both

hands...well, what have you to complain about?