So Far From Heaven

Old Jules, what objects can we use as symbols to teach us truths?

A mirror to help you remember that no matter how others might see you it’s  you, knowing what’s behind the face, who has to recognize what’s back there that you don’t love and respect.

A mirror to help you remember truth is what’s really beyond what you see in the mirror and you are the only one who knows it.

A mirror to remind you what’s visible to you is the only person you own, the only person you can demand anything from and expect to get it, the only person you can change.

A mirror to remind you what you think of that person and why you think it is the most important facet of your life.

Old Jules, does packaging design affect your choice in what to buy?

I buy everything in thrift stores, flea markets, farmers markets and garage sales if I can. Every stitch of clothing I wear comes from those from my hat to my boot heels except what I have to buy at a grocery store or feed store.

My cats insist I buy them Purina because of the design on the bag, most likely. My chickens don’t care about the design of the bags unless they contain whole corn, which they won’t touch.

I suppose if those folks running the places where I buy things other people didn’t want packaged them, I might form an opinion about the design and packaging. Thus far it hasn’t come to that.

I’m personally fond of the design of onions (clever way to put together a legume, thinks I), sweet potatoes (aesthetic), potatoes (functional), celery (I like that cove for putting cheese and peanut butter into), and carrots (I like the color).

Old Jules, can an effect be greater then its cause?

• Consider gunpowder. It had been in China for several hundred years and was used for entertainment and primitive weaponry. It was not responsible for creating nor stopping any particular changes.

Trade and curiosity ’caused’ it to migrate to Europe, where within a relatively short while it changed the entire face of the continent and eventually the world.

Charcoal, saltpetre and sulfur – individually nothing special. Mixed in the proper measures, contained in a sealed vessel, ignited, the energy released is countless times the sum of the individual parts.

Old Jules, my boyfriend plays World of Warcraft on the computer  all the time, what should I do? I’m feeling ignored because he spends hours playing it and we don’t do stuff together like we used to.

Form your thoughts carefully in your mind, tap him on the shoulder and when he shrugs and says, “Hold on a minute,” reach over and unplug the computer. When he turns around tell him politely and calmly exactly what you’ve said here.

If he goes into a rage or continues doing it you’re a damned sight better off without him. He’s not going to change. If he listens you can have a discussion and work out an accommodation to allow both of you to get what you need out of the relationship.

Jack wrote this in November of 2006:

Morning blogsters:

Beeeeeeeyouuuuuutiful moon this morning.

I see where some guy, Steve Howards,  in Beaver Creek, CO, was taking his grandson to town and saw some guy Dick Cheney hanging around kissing babies.  Howards always wanted to tell a high ranking stinkier in government what he thought.

“I think your policies are reprehensible,” he says to Cheney and walks on.  Secret Services people hand cuffs him and takes him off to the slammer, as is right and just.

This ain’t the time to be thinking there’s still a US Constitution and Bill of Rights.  The sooner you get that through your heads the easier it will be for you in the short run.

In the long run, probably not much will help, but the short run’s been the important thing too long to change now, most likely.

Jack

Jack wrote this in February, 2006:

Morning blogsters:

That old full hunter moon changed back to the usual, merely spectacular color this night.  Looks as though it’s planning to wait until after dawn to drop behind the mesa.

Coyotes are taking advantage, getting in some last-minute chasing of some unlucky rabbit before they trot off to their dens for a bit of shuteye.

It’s always amazing to me how three, maybe four coyotes can sound like fifty when they’re on their involved in a smash and grab operation.  Same when they’re just yapping and howling their gratitude affirmations to the Universe for allowing them to be coyotes.

Moon’s bright enough to fool someone’s hen house down in the village.  A rooster’s stretching his wings down there, announcing he made it through the night without an owl, skunk, civet cat, dog, coyote, not even some microorganism sneaked in and put his lights out while he was asleep.

The cats are prowling, anxious to get outdoors, but I dasn’t let them out until dawn on a night such as this one.  Far too much potential for that old owl hooting in the pecan tree out back dropping down and having them for breakfast, as he’s done with neighbor cats of late.

Then there’s me.

Thank you, Universe, for allowing me to be me this lifetime.  Thank you for every pain, every stumble, every fall and stubbed toe I’ve given myself without intending to during this 62 times around the sun.

Thanks, Universe, for everything that’s happened to me in this life.

Thanks for what’s happening now, this cold dawn, in all those threads and tentacles threading out there through this reality that are building to cause me pain and joy.

Thank you, Universe, for everything that’s going to happen between now and when I exit this vehicle.

Okay blogsters.  Back to writing a blog entry.

Jack

Old Jules, can I watch the dumb, and become smarter? Or is there another way?

Just my personal viewpoint, but I believe intelligence is severely over-rated. I’ve known a good many people who had IQs in the 80-90 or lower range whom I’d trust far more quickly than 90% of the PHDs I’ve known who believed their most valuable asset was their intelligence. A solid, loyal, courageous person with a low IQ has a lot to teach anyone who watches.

And an intelligent incorrigible person is also sure as hell worth watching.

Old Jules, do you think that the older you get and the more you learn (like studying subjects well) you gain more knowledge of life?

It tends to make a person believe he/she is wise at whatever decade in life he/she has arrived at. Unfortunately, belief in self-wisdom has a way of being the antithesis of wisdom.

I’ve witnessed it myself almost seven decades and witnessed it in all ages of others around me.

Life doesn’t make us wise, doesn’t make us know more. Life just throws more tricks into our paths. Life has more tricks than a monkey on a 50 foot rope.

Old Jules, what is an example of people disliking something because it is different?

Tenured geologists circa 1970 disliked plate tectonics theory because it was different. A lot of grad students bit the dust before the air cleared.

Baptists dislike Catholics because they are different.

I dislike 21st Century spelling of words in the English language because it’s different.

I dislike Mac computers because they’re different, and I disliked Windows 1.1 because it was different from MS DOS. Didn’t like IBM PCs because they used MS DOS instead of CPM and they were different from Kaypros.

Old Jules, what is life and who is the master of this world?
how can i proof it?

Proofing is the easy part. Just check the spelling, punctuation and grammar.

Whatever age you happen to be, you’re old enough to have observed what life is. It’s the stuff on your plate when you eat, the four legged creatures you see roaming around your neighborhood, the winged things you see in the trees and sky, as well as the trees. It’s a large part of the stuff you flush down the commode after you evacuate your bowel.
The master of this world is up for grabs. They’ll be holding an election one of these days and whatever gets the most votes will take office.

Jack wrote this in February, 2006:

Good afternoon blogsters:

One of the ways I keep up on world events and amuse myself when I’m alone in an eating establishment without a book involves eavesdropping.  I gaze at the food, a picture on the wall, something outdoors through the plate glass, and I listen to conversations at the nearby tables.

It’s curiosity, as much as anything else.  And mostly I lose interest quickly because so often the talk is about some sports event, concert, or a television show.  But sometimes it’s pay dirt.

Today I was doing the listening routine to the goings on among several BDU clad people of both sexes, all toting large-bore automatic pistols in holsters hanging from their waists.

Turned out these folks were part of a conference between Federal and State Homeland Security forces (whatever that might be).  I’d never seen that particular uniform combination, nor the patches and medallions, so I listened as closely as I dared without drawing attention to myself.

The eating establishment is on San Felipe Tribal Lands.  Maybe that’s why the conversation drifted in that direction.

Fed:  “Do you have any issues dealing with any of the tribes.”

NM State:  “You wouldn’t believe it.  Everything’s an issue.”

And so on in detail involving a lot of ‘issues’ a person born in 1943 (me), would never have believed could ever be discussed by government employees as though they should be part of any reality here.  The attitude was clearly that the tribes were being irresponsible in reluctance and obstruction of the aims of Homeland Security.

The topic broadened in a while.

NM State:  “I think a lot of people just don’t understand what we’re doing.  They don’t realize how dangerous things are for them.”

Fed:  “That’s a problem all over the country.  I was in Phoenix a few weeks ago .  . ., etc”

That NM Homeland Security lady all dressed up with a gun and nowhere to go was wrong.

I believe most people understand perfectly well what they’re doing and have an inkling of why they’re doing it.  It isn’t a lack of understanding that makes me smile and cheer inside, knowing the tribes, at least, are dragging their feet.

I think people are beginning to ‘realize how dangerous things are for them’, to the extent that dangers actually exist in this hostile reality we’ve chosen for ourselves.   But at least a part of the ‘danger’  people feel involves a new kind of policeman who thinks the US Constitution is obstructionist.

They just don’t know yet what needs to be done about it.

Jack

Hi everyone, Jeanne here. Going offline for a few days, actually driving down to New Mexico to try to get the pack rats out of my cabin. Posts are still scheduled here, but I won’t be checking for comments until next week. It will be a different kind of trip for sure, not having Jack to comment on the crops, the history, tell me stories, or speculate about all the things we notice on the road along the way. But I’ll try to be as fascinated with what I see along the way as he always was.
Back next week. Thanks for reading, and hello to new subscribers!
Jeanne

Nocturnal Nonsense

3 am I wake

Find you atop me

Kneading

I savor

The soft purr

Of you

The gentle scratch

Of nail on flesh

Tiny pleasure pain

I hold

I hold

I hold

I can wait

No more

Lift you

Lovingly aside

And rise

You follow watching

My grimaced

Downward

Push

Muscle pressure

Pain

Release

Your feline tail

Lashes S and Z

On empty air

Your green eyes fixed

I search absently

For a synonym:

“Involuntary

Urinary

Engorgement”

Runs a poor second

To “false Gods”

The prayer ends

While I ponder how this

Like the useless

Appendix

Serves no function.

No.  No.

It reminds

Remembers

Other uses

Other times.

From Poems of the New Old West

Copyright©2002 Jack Purcell

———————————————————————————————————–

Almost every facet of the human life experience has been celebrated to death in poem and song.

This one hasn’t.   Remember where you heard it first.

We’re talking MEME here.  (A word I learned a few days ago and knew in a flash of insight applied to the future of this ground-breaking poetic genre.)

Jack

Jack wrote this in February of 2006:

Hi again, blogsters:

This blogging experience might turn out to be too much for my psyche.  I don’t watch television, deliberately don’t read newspapers.  The reason is that I discovered a decade, or so, ago, that knowing about matters I can’t influence doesn’t lend itself to inner-peace.

However,  I’m finding something just as good as television and newspapers to stir up inner-confusion, dissatisfaction, anger.  About issues that aren’t my business as I define it, because nothing I can do might influence those issues.

The Native American feeds are a microcosm of the phenomenon:

My general feeling about the Native Americans I meet in my daily life is one of respect, of acknowledgement, of consideration.

Yet, on blog sites, I find a daily flow of feeds on Native American issues to inspire the antithesis of respect.

I see whines by Native Americans concerning inadequate health care for the tribes.

All over the US non-natives of all groups, and Native Americans who don’t happen to have tribal census numbers are faced with the daily challenge concerning health care.  Only Native Americans with census numbers are provided total free health care by the US Public Health Service.  Yet they complain and ask for Non-Native support to try to make what they have more comprehensive.

I see complaints about the limitations on tribal sovereignty.

There is no tribal sovereignty.  The tribes, with a few exceptions, are entirely dependent on US Government funding to maintain survival.  US taxpayers have been the mainstay for continued aboriginal survival, for Rez roads, Rez housing, Rez incomes, Rez education and Rez ‘independence’ for more than a century.

• I see nothing wrong with some US citizens getting an easier deal in life than others, if they can manage it.  Inherited wealth and ethnic preference have a strong basis in precedent in the US.
• I see nothing wrong with the tribes continuing to burden the remainder of society with dependence, with holding to life on the Rez without having to hold regular jobs and concern themselves with the daily issues of survival,  as do other Americans, should they choose to make that their goal.  The lure of a free ride through the Welfare State is seductive for individuals of all ethnic groups.
• What bothers me is the litany of complaint that it ain’t enough.  That somehow the ‘rest of society’ muddling along without such benefits, with no safety net, ought to feel more is ‘owed’, based on something that dead men did to other dead men more than a century ago.
• Something in me protests that we’re all born naked.  That we can each make our own choices every day.
• Something in me protests that begging is a lousy choice.  That whining and blaming others for our choices and our lot is not a behavior devised to command respect, so much as guilt.

Which is none of my business.

Jack

Old Jules, given ‘the raptures’ imminent arrival, how many cans of beans and wienies should I stockpile?

Don’t buy any and figure on taking it out of the homes of them who were raptured out after they’re gone.

Old Jules, what’s the biggest social injustice in today’s society?

The treatment of prostitutes by the criminal justice system.

Old Jules, what do you think forgiveness really is?  How do you break the mental link to the person you resent and set the process of forgiveness in action?

Seems to me forgiveness is a recognition of our own boundaries as they apply to our ability to influence the behavior of others, and the release [for our own benefit] of that which didn’t conform to our expectations.

The burden of carrying around whatever the alternative is to forgiveness is ours as individuals and, quite frankly, carries a lot higher cost to ourselves than it does for the unforgiven.

In my view it’s self-therapy, entirely a means of releasing ourselves from all manner of lousy baggage of no consequence to anyone but ourselves.

But the other side of it involves a more subtle piece of reality and self-definition.  A matter of recognizing the real question:  “Just who the hell am I to impose my expectation-slavery on another human being?” 

We’re all of us just flawed creatures stumbling along trying to find our way in life, most of us not making a particularly good, nor admirable job of it.  The judgement-arrogance involved in needing to forgive someone else for doing something to not live up to the slavery of behavior capsule we placed around them is a statement of what dishonest creatures we are.

So dishonest we’d lock our minds into the belief we occupy the moral high ground as though the ground around it was also high.