As I see it, it is a world where kids are told they are free and at the same time expected to be compliant with arbitrary rules. Enough it is to drive anybody mad. Here is an interesting thing. Kids who exhibit creativity, self-esteem, and independence are most likely of all to be in trouble with the rules. So, a kid is labeled. You are one of these, he or she is told. The label amounts to, You are unable to comply with minimum standards as we define them for being treated as a normal person. You will be required to change yourself or be ostracized or put on meds. Result: kids on the honor role are weak, frightened, uncreative parrots or imitators with low self-esteem and bound to be future leaders. Look around you. Where does change, real change, come from? Troublemakers?

I had been brought to a halt. Lonely. Tired. Defeated. WhatamItodo?
It came to me from nowhere that I am constantly creating the world where I live by my thinking and will continue to do so for so long as I live. I despise the world I inhabit with its loneliness, cruelty, stupidity, injustice, hatred, and corruption. It will only worsen for me for my thinking is doing this to myself. Having no power to alter my thoughts which are numberless and move faster than lightening, I am hopeless. Is anybody there?


A man appeared on horseback. He recognized me from before and stopped. After listening to me for awhile he invited me to a meeting at the crossroads, he said. There I met people who understood me. Several of them told me they had found in themselves a power sufficient to change their way of thinking and for them the weather had changed dramatically. They told me it is always Spring where they live. I saw it in their eyes before I was later to know it in myself. I wanted to join up and they laughed and told me I was one of them if I wanted to be. They have no leaders, no dues or fees, no rules to go by, only suggestions. So, I frequent the crossroads to share experiences and laughs.

WALT DISNEY'S MALEFICENT (The More True Story of Sleeping Beauty)

1. If one is going to make up a religion, the first task is to call True God the Devil. The people of one half the world were mean spirited bastards (human beings) with an arrogant, greedy King. The people of the neighboring realm were good hearted (magic flying fairies and the like) with no need for a king at all for they trusted each other. Maleficent, a young fairy, lived there. Her name means evil in the human realm.

2. One boy from the King's realm came to the realm of good hearted people to steal a jewel. He was discovered by Maleficent who took the jewel from him and put it back where he had found it. In her realm people leave Earth's bounty where it is found. She forgave him and later became his girl friend.

3. Maleficent grew into a mighty creature to become the protector of her realm and Stephan, the boy, had ambitions which drew him away from Maleficent. Maleficent's heart was broken. Stephan returned to her realm and lied to her telling her he still loved her then drugged her and cut off her wings to become King of the Human realm. Maleficent's heart broken again, she was pissed this time. When a child was born to the King she was not invited to the Christening and she came to deliver a curse that the child would prick her finger on the needle of a spinning wheel on her 16^th birthday and fall into a sleep from which she can only be awakened by true love's kiss (which she believes does not exist having had her heart broken twice by the King.)

4. All this and more has happened already in your world as you understand it. You must kiss sleeping beauty.

If its heart don't beat, do not listen to it. If anyone tells you he speaks on behalf of a society, do not listen to him for an organization is by its nature a nonliving thing created, as a pyramid was built ages ago, to capture people. A ring of quacks who call themselves an order have you believing they hold power over you by the plan of God Almighty. The god they speak to you of was created by them to serve their order. By the stroke of a pen were you robbed of the most precious thing any human being can have, a human soul holding within it the code of its own way back home.

When anyone tells you he speaks for a nation, do not listen for a nation lives not, aches not, suffers not, loves not. Whenever anybody tells you he speaks on behalf of a corporation, a fictitious organization created in pretend world games by another fictitious group both of which are not living and never have been alive, do not listen.  Listen to only the breathers who speak for themselves, have real voices, dance, pray, dream, love, work, and fart real farts. Those have true courage, for if it cannot get naked it is not real. 

That which is sheer pretense can never surrender to real authority. Armies are not real. Thugs with rifles and bombs are real. How long are you going to give your only life away to nonliving things you pretend are greater than you? Greater, you say, than what lives?  How on Earth have these craven images ensnared living gods by the masses? Pretense! What cannot shed its pretenses is not capable of understanding the living who are blessed to be able to shed pretense. Pretend to weakness before man no longer and serve living godliness, which, having all the power in the Universe uses it not for selfish glory.

A mountain is real. A mountain is greater than me. The sea is greater than me.  The wind is greater. The Sun and Moon. Not one of these has ever bothered to write down its superiority and flaunt it before my face.  Why not? The mountain is real, without pretense, that is why. Be like that.

Who builds mountains to praise Pharaoh? Who believes Pharaoh to be his master? Pharaoh is long dead and yet on your dollar bill. When will you learn? The modern Pyramid is Nation; a useless thing to the living. What will it take to convince you? A passport? An autograph? A sealed authorization? How about... your breath?

In my view, the tunnel Alice fell down to Wonderland was her mother's birth canal and Wonderland as Lewis Carroll describes it is his attempt to paint a picture of your world in which you live on Planet Earth as it has been madly developed by maniacs. The Red Queen is your mother, the White Queen is you as a child, treated as a mental patient is treated. You get your meds, career program, and marching orders daily, don't you?

What knows what I am going to write before I even begin? For a long time mankind (inclusive of womankind) has been in ignorance (or darkness, as it is called in poetry). I am going to write about the dark and expose it to light so pay close attention for I may not pass this way again.

Some among those who consider themselves to be of exceptional intelligence are blind to it. What? To the intelligence source, the is.

Is lies beneath these words of mine and behind the doors to a room where languages are conceived which leads to the room where the words you can read were hatched. Is is.

Language went to our heads, so to speak. Once it began to happen all around Earth, well, it made a whole lot of communication possible for the first time and that fascinated us no end. An explosion of information of all kinds engulfed mankind. Like any trick, one was played that has us in the dark.

The words took over the shop where they were kept and began giving orders to anyone who could read them. A thing called education (a mere word) evolved quickly that claimed to dispense intelligence itself. It was not possible for people to detect the trick that was played and it is in full bloom today and still growing. Electronic devices tell people what to do and people are grateful!

This part is important: language, all of it, is only a dog which chases its own tail and goes nowhere. Do you feel sometimes like that is happening to you, going nowhere, I mean? Your bosses are chasing their tails? Every word is given its meaning by other words which were given meaning by a bunch of words which were given meaning by? What else? Words. So, how come words are seen by everybody now as the source of intelligence? Books? Television? Computers? Devices hand held and plugged into ears?

Love is just a four letter word.

What turned off the light? Words. All of us lost contact with the source of language. This is not rocket science nor is it religious doctrine that I point out yet nobody sees. Why not? Trickery and greed. This is so important. It is described in an ancient tale that goes: Once upon a time, a long time ago, a wise man lived on Earth. As he was going about the streets on a walk one evening after dark, he spied a group of adults under a street lamp huddled together all looking down at their feet and moving ever so slowly in a circle. He asked one what they were doing. We are searching carefully for this man's ring which he has lost, was the reply to the wise man. Oh, said the wise man, where was he when he last saw the ring? In the house was the reply. Then, asked the wise man ,why do you search out here in the street? The light is better out here was the only answer the wise man was given.

Such is the power of words to lead a man or woman into everlasting foolishness whenever words are the masters instead of their source. That has happened already to us. We are nuts. So nutty are we that none of us has the eyes to see the obvious. What is the obvious?

The obvious is that something made language possible. Before language we were all of us in touch with that great reality that is the source of language. It had brought us fire. We forgot. It is the master of all the living creatures of Earth save mankind. A blade of grass listens to it and follows the Sun across the sky. It gave language and we jumped ship to sail away with words (which cannot swim).

At this point some will say, who cares? You should. Because a simple move back to the source underlying words will enable us to use words as servants and at the same time introduce us to our real intelligence. That is all I mean to say. I did it and know it is so. You can too.

And...the names for the source are legion. In every language there is a name. God, Father, Grandfather, Grandmother, Great Spirit, Allah, Krishna, Christ, and many more. There are stories in every language but the stories are words. Words chase their own tails. The source is nameless for it is the source of names. We all agree names did not create themselves. What did? I want you to know. You will find the source inside your heart. By heart I mean your source. You find the source in you. Everybody came out from within beginning as a tiny, tiny thing that the source made from inside of it. All life grows from the inside outward. If you do not believe me try making a sculpture of any living thing. You find out soon enough what makes a three dimensional work appear as if it were real.

Forget a name. Then see it. It is here.

When you do you will understand what in reality caused man to coin the word love that will make the word live. That is the source.

Follow this along: on a test the teacher expects correct answers to questions made of words and this explanation you are reading of what education is about is a bunch of words also. Suppose any ten questions appear on a test. You do not know the answers. You write I do not know ten times on the exam. When teacher gives you a zero grade and fails you, reply,

Oh, but teacher all ten of my answers are correct. I do not know. I must receive an A by your own words.

If the teacher would only find the courage to admit you are entitled to an A, in accordance with the words which rule her domain, real education, not the word, could begin. We await that moment.

In that moment one discovers that the suggestion to find the source of all that is (God) was originally spoken so you might find you. You are more like the grasses than you think.

Who is this Gate Keeper who stands at the door of my conscious awareness and speaks before me and for me while I listen to it and wonder how often do I speak for myself? Am I nobody? Drunk? Too dumb? Inept? Weak? Incapable? Why did I stand for this rudeness ever even for one moment? I bet this impostor is a coward if I would only speak up. I am going to do it. I am going to find out who is running this life we seem to share. Me or...what's-it? The one with a name who sees imperfection in everything and everybody. You know, the one who changes his mind to fit each new situation, constantly revising his identity, the liar.