Author Archives: mandala56

Jack wrote this in March, 2006:

Morning blogsters:

Someone showed me a website where a person can send emails to be delivered to themselves at some specified future time.  Interesting thought.  (Note from Jeanne: https://www.futureme.org/)

What’s more interesting, however, is that a person’s allowed to have those emails to his future self posted for the public to read, though those are anonymous.

It’s a study in the way a lot of people view themselves.

One intriguing shot some 16 year old fired at his 22 year old self,

“I hope you’re out of the Marine Corps by now.  If you aren’t, you are an idiot.”

A 16er who ain’t yet in the Gyrenes telling his future self he hopes he’s out by now and implying going in was a mistake???

But what’s most puzzling is the way so many are lecturing their future selves.

“I hope you own fifteen rent houses by now and are driving a Corvette.  If not, you’ve been procrastinating.  Get busy.”

Evidently a lot of people are going along on the assumption they’re as wise now as they’ll be five or ten years from now, and that the person they’ll be won’t shudder, nor blush that HERE’s what they used to be.  Here’s how they used to think.  Whew.

“No wonder my life is such a mess if THAT’s where I came from”, they’ll be saying.

One cute one some young adult of indeterminate age was addressed to him/herself to be delivered, January 1, 2013.  It congratulates the future self for being there to read the email, reminding about how he/she had been into Mayan prophesy predicting the end of the world in 2012.

OOOOOOOkay.

Got me thinking, what’s really needed is a site where we can send emails to be delivered to ourselves at specified times in the past.

For instance, I could send one to me for delivery January 1, 1999.

“Hi guy.

“You just took your retirement funds out of their safe haven, retired, and you’re getting ready to go off and prepare for the collapse of civilization. 

• “You think the banks, the IRS, everything’s going deep South a year from now. 
• “You think buying that land on installments is a smart move, that the money’s better spent buying food, shelter, barter items, medications, for hoards of refugees that will be coming out of the cities.  Because,
• “You think when civilization collapses the taxes, the installments, even paper cash will be gone, kaput.

“I don’t want to influence you about most of what you’re going to do during the next year, but I do have a couple of suggestions.

• “First, notice I’m sending you this email by computer from 2006.
• “Second, ask yourself what you’re going to do if the lights don’t go out.
• “Third, store your retirement cash you’re depending on in case Y2K doesn’t happen in a metal container where the rats can’t get to it. (Trust me on this one.  Just do it and don’t ask any questions.)

“Other than that, you’re doing fine, sport.  Just go on with what you were doing when you opened this email.

“From the man you’re going to be seven HARD years from now,”

“Jack”

“PS – There’s a website out there where you can answer this email and have it delivered to me now.  Don’t bother.  I  was you once.  I remember all about it.  You don’t have anything to say I don’t know already.

“PPS – Start learning as much as you can learn about playing blackjack.  You’re going to need it.”

Jack wrote this in September, 2005:

Jack wrote this in February, 2006:

I was drawn to the feed on Bud’s site.  Couldn’t resist reading it.

Seems the deputy sheriff folks in Florida have had sex with prostitutes four times recently in the pursuit of getting evidence to convict the ladies for criminal behavior.

One of the deputies was so grateful he left a $350 tip of public funds.  Great illustration of the kinds of sacrifices police officers have to make to serve and protect, all in the line of duty.  Unsung heroes.

When the information became public the Sheriff was asked whether he approved.  Paraphrasing his reply, “It’s necessary to get convictions.  This isn’t anything new.”

The contortions and expense our government’s going to in order to prosecute and punish crimes without victims  qualifies as a form of insanity, if we needed to see another.

Those prostitutes will likely have their day in an expensive courtroom, go to prison a couple of years at public expense, and return to the streets, justice having been served.

Meanwhile, those deputies  will be out there collecting more evidence.

The Gastronome

 Intelligence and language;

Pathogenic curses

To obscure;

To conceal

What any ant would know;

His kilobyte of brain

Large enough

To discern

Beeswax from earwax.

Jack

From Poems of the New Old West

Copyright 2002, Jack Purcell

——————————————————————

Afterthought:

I doubt it comes as any surprise to anyone that law officers are lacking in compunctions about prosecuting others for doing what they’re guilty of in an official capacity.

There’s a reason police officers in most states don’t go through routine the drug testing required of other public employees.  Particularly public employees driving vehicles on the job, making judgements about hot pursuits through busy streets and whatnot.

What’s changed is that now, instead of denouncing such behaviors when the officers get caught, the sheriff supports it and calls it ‘duty’.

Anyone who has ever worked in an environment where scandalous, or illegal practices extended to high management levels is familiar with what you see here.

The mail room boy announces, “If I go down, everyone here goes down with me!”

But the root-cause is the victimless crime and flawed human beings given the power to take advantage of it.  To make victims of victimless criminals.  The flesh is weak.

Jack

View of Cabazon from Placitas, NM

Cabazon

Bulging motion cauldron cloud of stone

Patchy layer of brief life paint

Boils against the swirl of mist

Caresses swift changes of sky

And seasons

Sleepy knuckles on the skull of earth

What do you ponder?

Promontory above the sweeping distance

Falling, sliding into basin of the eons

This flea of life across the flash of moment

Longs to feel your numbness

To the march of time

Your wisdom of silence

From Poems of the New Old West

Copyright©2002, Jack Purcell

Jack wrote this in March, 2006:

Hi blogsters:

I’ve been reading a number of blogs and having my mind boggled.

Seems there’s a lot of whining going on in a lot of areas, but imprisonment is a major one:

• Blacks rightfully noting that the prisons are mostly full of blacks, wanting something to be done about that,
• Hispanics believing Hispanics, particularly illegals, are profiled and targeted for more searches than other groups and not getting a fair shake in the court-system because they’re Hispanics,
• Native Americans doing a LOT of whining because a lot of them are in prison for reasons they consider unjust,
• Muslims concerned something similar to WWII Japanese American camps will emerge if there’s more terrorism in the US,
• Political dissenters being concerned they’re the next target.

I’ve got some news for you, brothers and sisters.  This isn’t an ethnic problem.  It isn’t a religious problem.  It isn’t even a political dissent problem.

This is a problem of a criminal justice system left the pavement and gone airborne.

You blacks, Hispanics, Native Americans, political dissenters, Muslims, those prisons are also full of whites and Asians.  If this is going to be stopped you have to begin to realize there’s no percentage to fragmentation…  strength is in unity.

To end this prison problem we have to quit sending people there.  Those juries aren’t all white.  Many include several ethnic groups with whites as a minority.

All it takes to keep a fellow American out of jail is one jury member of any race, religion or ethnic group to say NOT GUILTY.  Period.

If you blacks, whites, Hispanics, Muslims, Native Americans want this problem solved you’re going to have to start saying NO, one at a time.

You’re going to have to say NOT GUILTY

• when that woman is being tried for selling herself on the street, whether she’s guilty or ain’t, whatever her race.
• When that man who got caught with a packet in his pocket or a bale of jade in the trunk of his car comes before you.  Regardless of his skin color.
• When anyone comes before you as a jury member for any victimless crime.
• And you’re going to have to keep on saying it no matter what the other jury members think about it.

And when a cop, a judge, an attorney comes before you

• accused of manipulating evidence,
• planting evidence,
• lying on the witness stand,

you are going to have to say GUILTY and hang on to it until the other jurors agree with you so they can go home, or there’s a hung jury.

When a cop comes before you for

• beating the hell out of someone in custody,
• raping him/her,
• killing him/her,

you are going to have to say GUILTY and tell the judge you recommend the maximum sentence.

When you have a friend, a relative, a co-worker serving on a jury for a victimless crime, explain to them you’re going to spit in their lunch, give them a dose of clap, put a black-widow spider in their desk drawer if they vote to convict.

As for other matters involving religion or politics, there’s time to deal with that when the time comes.

But for now, prove you have a brain bigger than a walnut.

Start looking past your own skin color, religion, ethnicity, and develop enough cojones to fucking say NO.

Jack

Jack wrote this in March, 2006:

The hoopla about the dead cop in Tijeras got me thinking about my old friend, Mel King, and another dead cop just down the road from this one in Mountainair, New Mexico, in 1987. 

That one changed Mel’s life in a multitude of ways, for all the remainder of it.  I posted this on another blog December 21, 2005, the anniversary of his death:

If I ever write another book, Mel King will have to occupy a few chapters of it.  I’ve mentioned him a few times on this blog, but mostly, I’ve not been able to write much about him at all.  I’m still digesting what happened to him.

On one of the threads recently the discussion drifted to the War on Drugs.  I suppose if I’d never met Mel I probably wouldn’t have thought much about that issue, would never have bothered to form an opinion about it.

But in many ways, Mel was a product of that war, from the time it began during the Reagan Administration, he was one of the adversaries.  It changed him from a small-time marijuana growing woods-vet to a wealthy man.  When the ‘war’ drove the price of jade sky-high he was approached by a number of ranchers in the area, asked to teach them how to grow weed in quantity.  He became their broker, as well as a grower.

The War on Drugs involved Mel in a major felony arrest, confiscation of much of his property, caused the mysterious death of a police officer, got Mel targeted repeatedly on America’s Most Wanted television series, and constant harassment by the FBI, State Police and local police for the remainder of his life.

They wanted to believe he killed a Mountainair, NM, police officer because it was the only construction of the facts that didn’t expose the rotten core of the War on Drugs.  If Mel didn’t kill that cop, another cop, or cops, almost certainly did.

Unacceptable.

Shortly before he was murdered in December, 2004, he showed me an anonymous, hand-written letter accusing him of killing the policeman and threatening to come balance it all.  The undertone and nuances of the letter suggested it was written by another member of the ‘policeman brotherhood’ who wanted to even things out, not because he knew the dead cop, but because a person doesn’t get suspected of killing a cop and get by with it.

It’s time I began writing down a few things about Mel King anyway.

Mel King was a major, financially successful marijuana grower and large-scale broker in New Mexico for many years.  During that time he was also a long-term heroin addict.  (He first became addicted to morphine while in the hospital recovering from wounds he got in the Marine Corps in Vietnam).

The only way Mel got away with what he was doing for so many years was by being considered a complete maniac, and by making certain the authorities got their fair share of the proceeds.  He drove around in a VW van with bullet-holes in the windshield from the inside

When he got busted in 1987, with 150 pounds in his house it was because he made himself too big a nuisance to be allowed to go on.  He was attracting too much attention.

But even so, he never came to trial.  That 150 pounds of high-grade vanished from the evidence lockers.  The empty bags with his evidence numbers on them were found in the home of the policeman who made the initial stop during his arrest.  But someone murdered that policeman, probably for the marijuana, which is how they happened to find the empty evidence bags.

While he was in jail awaiting bail, Mel resolved to turn his life around.  He freed himself from heroin and when he was released he started a successful furniture business, did his best to stay clean for the remainder of his life.  Succeeded in being a trustworthy, successful man and one of the best friends I’ve ever had.

Mel and Kentai

During the years I knew him, Mel was a deeply spiritual man.  He was honest, guileless, hard-working, sincere, courageous, and in many ways, wise.  We prospected a lot of canyons together, talked of many things over campfires listening to the wind in the pines.  He was also my partner during Y2K.

Mel and I disagreed on many things, but he believed, as I do, that he knew what happens to a man when he dies.  He never feared death and he never believed he’d done anything in this life to give him any reason to fear it.

I believe he was right.

Jack

Old Jules, do you believe that GOD speaks through others?

If so, God speaks through too many others to allow any sense to be made of it.

Old Jules, what would you do if the world was going to end in 10 minutes?

Scratch the cats behind the ears, put on Leonard Cohen singing ‘Closing Time’ and go outdoors with a pair of binoculars to see whether I can spot some Christians being raptured out.

Old Jules, why is human life not cheap?

It’s cheap sometimes. Cambodia for a while, the Stalin era gulags, Spain during the Inquisition, Hitler’s camps, the Mongol invasion, the 100 year war in Europe, China during the Japanese invasion and later during Mao’s Cultural Revolution.
If it’s not cheap where you are not it’s because you are lucky in time and place.

Old Jules, what is the most interesting thing you know?

That there’s no relationship between knowing something and it being true.

Old Jules, ever fallen in love with the IDEA of love?

I believe you’ve identified one of those rarely recognized differences between women and men, as generic creatures [keeping in mind there are exceptions to the stereotypes].
Women, almost all women, do.
Men don’t.

Old Jules, aside from death and taxes, what else do you think is bound to happen in life?

Any time you find a used wheel barrow for sale it will have a flat tire.

Old Jules, what’s the difference between racism and bigotry?

Racism is just a particular manifestation of a larger human mental trait, bigotry. Bigotry exists more-or-less universally among humans, though they deny it for the most part and only recognize it in others than themselves.

Old Jules, what about you has inspired another? Has anyone made a gesture, read a book you recommended, voted differently because of you?

In 1967, I had a DUMP JOHNSON ’68 bumper-sticker on my Nash Metropolitan. Johnson heard about it and decided not to run again.

Almost every culture in human history has been well aware of energy-force manipulation potential by humans.  They’ve recognized both the positive, and the negative applications as well as the ‘choice’ factor by the person using the energy.  Some modern cultures still do.

• Not more than two decades have passed since the last ‘witch’ was killed by unanimous community consent on the Zuni Rez.
• Five, or so, years ago a school bus full of Zuni youngsters on a field trip across Din’e lands were thrown into such a state of terror upon sighting a Navajo ‘Skin-Walker’, that several had to be hospitalized.
• One of the darker, unspoken secrets in Navajo country during the last generation is the growing epidemic of ‘Skin-Walkers’, proliferating throughout the Rez.  Why it’s happening remains a mystery because most Navajo won’t even speak of it among themselves, except in whispers.
• On the Din’e Rez a violated piece of sacred ground of the Old Ones, near Nageezi, which happens to include a roadway intesection, has been the scene of more Navajo deaths than any place since the Trail of Tears to Bosque Redondo in 1864.  Din’e families continue to use it and continue to die there, despite the fact it only needs cleansing by an energy worker and removal of certain artifacts to another, similarly sacred piece of earth elsewhere.  Why?  Because the Din’e have lost too many pieces of the song of life to trust anything anymore.  What once was simple is now beyond understanding.

However, what interests me most is purely practical application of energy to positive ends based on a value system almost everyone professes to embrace, though few practice what they preach.  Either as nations, or as individuals.

I was leading into some thoughts of other applications of energy work, more imaginative than that of the ‘hit man’, unarguably positive on a much broader scale based on reduction of capabilities for the application of physical force.

This entry’s getting a bit long, but if there’s interest, maybe I’ll discuss it more in some later entry.

Best to you,

Jack

Jack wrote this in February 2006 when he was a member of several online metaphysics groups, including Reiki and other types of  energy healing:

Morning blogsters:

A couple of days ago in the comments section of one of the Metaphysics 101 entries it became obvious to me there’s a lot of confusion about the potential for energy work.  Partly it’s because there’s so much sweetness and light humbug associated with it among the practitioners.

The long history of persecution of energy workers in the Christian world has probably caused some over-reaction toward the other side.  A lot of Reiki Masters, for instance, have been trained to believe (and have believed, or profess to believe what they were taught) that the energies they use for healing can’t be used in ways contrary to what they might perceive as ‘positive’.

Similar beliefs are found among Silva practitioners, EFT workers, most dowser/healers, and others who wish to draw an inseparable boundary, both for themselves, and for those who know what they do, between themselves and those on the ‘other side’ of metaphysical practices (ie. black magick, et al).

It simply isn’t possible.

Many energy workers know this, though most will never say so in an open, public discussion.  But there’s a sound reason the use of metaphysical energy, energy conversion, energy projection requires a solid understanding of the disciplines involved.

The pablum approach, including any belief that energy projection/conversion can only be used for ‘good’ is a sure-fire means for neophytes to do a lot of damage, possibly to themselves, almost certainly to others.

On the other hand, there’s such a broad base of growing knowledge circulating about how to do it, I believe it’s time the entire picture (to the extent I know it) comes into view.

There’s no way anyone can control the mindset of certain groups of Pagans and Wiccans (and worse) who are out there playing around with spells and energies, using them to get revenge on ex-husbands and boyfriends.  They know enough to do it, but not nearly enough to respect it.  Kids playing with loaded firearms.

I know a man of some fame and repute for doing many positive energy tasks, healing, and much teaching, who’s also an energy ‘hit man’.  When a particularly despicable homicide happens, say, to a child, and when the authorities can’t do anything about it, he locates the perpetrator by passive methods, then simply ‘goes down and removes the life energy’ of the killer.

(It’s not me doing this, so I don’t have to figure out what opinion I have about his choice to use his capabilities this way.  Though you’d probably recognize his name, he ain’t advertising that piece of his action.)

———————————————————–

This blog entry is too long.

How about this:

Consider that last bit as the end of an entry.  Take a break.  Go outdoors a while and ponder.  When you return you’ll find another entry just below.  A shorter one that doesn’t tax the attention span of blogsters.

If you don’t believe me, just take a peek.

It’s there already for when you return.

(Continued tomorrow instead– Jeanne)

Jack wrote this in June, 2006:

I hadn’t watched Easy Rider (Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper and Jack Nicholson, circa 1968) in three decades.

When I saw it again this past weekend I appreciated it again for the first time:

Nicholson: You know, this used to be a helluva good country. I can’t understand what’s gone wrong with it.

Hopper: Huh. Man, everybody got chicken, that’s what happened, man. Hey, we can’t even get into like, uh, second-rate hotel, I mean, a second-rate motel. You dig? They think we’re gonna cut their throat or something, man. They’re scared, man.

Nicholson: Oh, they’re not scared of you. They’re scared of what you represent to ’em.

Hopper: Hey man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody needs a haircut.

Nicholson: Oh no. What you represent to them is freedom.

Hopper: What the hell’s wrong with freedom, man? That’s what it’s all about.

Nicholson: Oh yeah, that’s right, that’s what it’s all about, all right. But talkin’ about it and bein’ it – that’s two different things.

I mean, it’s real hard to be free when you are bought and sold in the marketplace.

‘Course, don’t ever tell anybody that they’re not free ’cause then they’re gonna get real busy killin’ and maimin’ to prove to you that they are.

Oh yeah, they’re gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom, but they see a free individual, it’s gonna scare ’em.

Hopper: Mmmm, well, that don’t make ’em runnin’ scared.

Nicholson: No, it makes ’em dangerous.

Three young men searching for America who found it wasn’t what they bargained for.

Jack