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!

Friday, February 3, 2023

 HOW SHARPLY IS THY RAZOR?

An Anonymous voice: Jazz was born from slavery in America when black people were slammed so hard it had to come forth as a way in secret to express freedom in the face of absolute freedomlessness. And that long word spells “I wanna perfect song to set things straight for me and you livin’ in a way we both know’s right before we die”. 

There are those here who are already thinking “this cannot be so because if {humansbeing} happened there would be chaos and mayhem and the apocalypse.” The answer everybody knows is: the law and order way we have been traveling so long we have no record of its beginning has brought a crisis so distressing to everybody it can no longer be denied. The other day another unarmed black man was beaten to death by five policeman. The President asked, soulfully: “ Where do we go from here?” Then answered himself: “We go forward.” And he’ll get votes for that.

Let me point out now the big difference between anonymity and anarchy. Both oppose superintendents. But anonymity means it. Anarchy is political. And anonymity is purely internal, selfless, founded in love. An anonymous person will point out what he sees from compassion for others and go on his way. When asked, “will you join the protest tonight” will reply simply, “no, I will be busy tonight.” What is mostly overlooked is the obvious fact that to be free of addiction to a selfish image one must let go of all consciousness that separates one from the whole of humanity to walk through life as Alias Everybody, a true friend to all.   


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