The Scientific view Merlin



[ Did you see this Merlin, the scientific view of the big questions



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJ6QrS5Zjek
<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJ6QrS5Zjek>  ]



I had not seen that one but I took a look at it. But I am already very
familiar with the general scientific view and working process. Also had
a few communications with him many years ago, but only about science,
nothing else. But there are different kinds of scientists you know.
However, as a mystic I agree with their approach (not their conclusions
when they prognosticate).  I demand evidence of anything. I am sceptical
but with an open mind to learning more. I have never ever been any
different to that. And I only talk of what I HAVE found so far, not what
I have NOT found.  I also fully agree with him on what he says about
SETI.  I am fully in accord with all those who search for whatever there
is to be found. And it must continue. If you don't look then you
don't find. And in so doing then time and time again folks find
things they were not even looking for. Tis the way it goes, and it
WORKS. I would not worry too much about conclusions in that field of
endeavour. Just keep looking.



Merlin





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Certainly Mary understands existentialism and I like her updated conclusions
about the philosophy. I would ask her if she thinks herself an existentialist 
in the present time.
Dick,of course  just rambles aimlessly and screams when we try to write  on
topic existentialism. In recent counts it seems Dick floods the site with about
four to one number of posts to what the rest put out. The greater number are
about mysticism and I repeat this is not the mystical site,it is the
existentialism site.Dick, Did you read the owners posting about rules and
customs of the site. You trash them just as you always have.
I am continully attempting to relate new science to the old body of
existentialism. Seti is a part of that science but it has hit a dead end. In any
practical sense we are alone in the universe. That relates to our existential
situation. There is no other sentient beings close enough to communicate with.
The cosmos is just too big and distances too great  for any contact with other
beings. It seems being alone  will be our situation for the duration of the
earth and our chances of interstellar travel are slight. We are alone on this
rock and we are responsible for what goes on here. That is an existential
viewpoint and  is in direct contention with  religionism,mysticism  and any
faith based system. We are all alone but with total freedom to take our own
chances for better or worse. Certainly some things are bigger than we can
manipulate just as distance holds us captive here. But to the level of our
ability we are in charge of our own lives with no alligeance to priests ,wisards
or mystics. Within the bounds of existentialism I can write  what I want, read
what I want and think what I want. Dick can do the same but most of the time his
mysticism puts him off topic. I suggest he try thinking about our species
position  of solitude in this cosmos. Forget  the dream state that continually
surroundsand fogs your perspective and see this world as it is. You don`t get to
be a special guru or have special knowledge. You have the same information
available to you that the rest of us do. I will argue with you but  grant you no
special knowledge from your  made up world. Try straight line,rational thought
and you might die Homo Sapiens not some made up extrapolation. Sincerely,Bill

On the Origins of Life?

[ Would you give a recorded talk on the origins of life Richard? ]

No.  I am not qualified to do so.

Also, what does the question mean?  Does it mean the origins of life on
this planet or does it mean more than that? Also, what does anyone
define life as being? I define life as being a conscious entity which is
aware of its own existence. But it seems that many people would not
define life that way. They go on about it must have the potential for
reproduction of exactly the same phenomena. But there are people who
cannot reproduce. Are they not life forms? Also when people reproduce
they DO NOT reproduce exactly the same entity that they are. So it is
all BULLSHIT. And if they did then there would be no bloody evolution.
There is also the question of there is life NOW; so study that, and no
matter how it originated. So HOW, WHEN and WHERE it originated is
academic. Then there is the question of WHY.

As for giving live talks then I have done that. As for recorded talks I
have done that too. And what bloody difference does it make? I might as
well have sat in the garden alone with a beer. I have also done one live
broadcast on Mystical experience and the Ground of Being.  What bloody
good did that do?  If you are going to do anything then just write your
book and put I out there and let it blow on the wind. And that will last
here longer than you will. And it may, or may not, have any
consequential effects. Another good question is as to where Life is
going.  Innit.

But as for me then the origin of life is when something first becomes
aware of existing. And I don't simply mean as a human being when little.
And there is much more life around than simply human beings. And what
would know anything if there were no life forms?  Think on that one.
What do you know? I keep asking that questions and there is deadly hush
:- )))))

Dick Richardson







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Would you go?

[ I found this question on a website.... -  "I know another one of my
crazy questions. So if you were out exploring an old house or haunted
wood, etc. and came across what obviously appeared to be a doorway to
another world. Other words you can basically tell you think you would
survive the travel to this other place but don't know if it is a one way
gate, and your not sure how long it will last...Would you go through?

It's a very difficult question I posed to myself and have been thinking
about and going back and forth, so I figured I bring this ominous
question to others to burn up brain cells on.  Look forward to hearing
your answers, and kind of explain why if you have a moment. other wise -
go through or stay, will do. Thank you".]

I did find a portal to another realm, and I did go through it :- ))) But
you sure don't find one every day do you. So grab the opportunity when
it comes; so listen for the Sirens Call. No, I did not know that I would
come back, but that did not matter. It was an adventure either way. But
I did not know that it was two way. But I do now. But the dark and the
unknown and being alone never worried me. But the opportunity to go
seems to be the hard bit.

rwr





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With retirement very close I will change life style . I will be doing the house
work and the shopping. I will also have more time to write. I am beginning to 
sit viewing cable TV with a lap top in hand. I have the ability to view and
react to the world as it happens. It is  a neat perspective that I am just
beginning to appreciate. The upcoming budget wars  are all the rave and they
seem important to Americans and to a lesser degree the rest of the world. The
British news is dominated by the pregnancy of  a royal. I see it as a pleasant
anachronism and find severe morning sickness something news worthy. It is odd
that an ancient system of governance should propel us into  contemplation of the
woes and joys of childbirth.
I will also be cooking more. That will be a true adventure as I have some
rudamentary idea of how to proceed. Here at the beginning shoping and cooking
seem daunting but leaving the scourge of business behind  seems worth the
challenge. Last night I had a success with a simple roast beef and potatoes. I
have  been told I am to excitable  as a shopper and I must learn to slow down.
As I will soon  begin an exercise program perhaps my excess energy will burn off
and I will begin to slow down. It is a new challenge that I have never faced and
feel  most unequipped for.
Seventy six countries use the drone  type  that Iran  says it has captured. The
Scan Eagle drone  is built by Boeing and we say USA has no missing drones. Iran
seems  a part of a separate world. Even the muslim world sees them as odd and
separate. They are the most spied on nation in the world and their paranoia is
huge. I cannot count the number of countries who want Iran bombed or invaded or
sanctioned. Think of trying to live in an isolated place  under constant threat
from your own and outside governments. The recent defection of the north Korean 
who was raised in a concentration camp  really shocked me. I had no idea such
places and people still exist. Two of Bushes axis of evil still exist with Iraq
now in some kind of limbo as a nation. Most say it is better than Saddam but
still not good. The progress toward  democratic world order  creeps on and I
know I will be long dead before it is accomplished.
So from my new vantage point and reformed life I am in some ways more alone but
in others more connected. I should be happy for the chance  to build a third
existance. The preparitory and work  portions are over and a new future is
waiting. I agree with Dick that there are three  parts of life for  a person
lucky enough to live long. I hope he lives longer as I like his sounding board 
even if he screams at me and calls me names. As to Mary she has long been a joy
and I apologise for  negative things I have said to her in the past.I hope my
slowing down will make me less abrasive and mean. Bill

Yes, Bill, if I need to apply a label, this would be the one. I relate to
Beauvoir's commitment and unfortunately to her sick relationship with Sartre; to
his inquiry into reason, but not his sensibilities; to Camus' sensibilities and
understanding of our absurd position in the universe though not his intellectual
exposition. The only problem I have with existentialism is when I compare it
with Hegel's depth in phenomenology, but that's probably because I haven't read
enough Sartre, the only one took on Hegel in his own work. I don't like Sartre's
fiction much compared to Camus and think Beauvoir the better novelist.

We are alone here but also together, and this paradox is most addressed in
existentialism. Joy and terror, as you also mentioned, go hand in hand, as do
many oppositions in reason. A flight to certain beliefs is understandable but
not with the existential condition. The lack of incorporation of science into
existentialism is an arguable problem but so are attempts to dilute it to
specific philosophers. Looking at the whole body of the philosophy's writers, it
easy to observe the differences, but this is a good thing, not a negative. That
Heidegger and Nietzsche are in the pantheon is a positive. What do they have in
common?

Mary

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "William" <vize9938@...> wrote:
>
> Certainly Mary understands existentialism and I like her updated conclusions
about the philosophy. I would ask her if she thinks herself an existentialist 
in the present time.

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Mary" <josephson45r@...> wrote:
>
> Yes, Bill, if I need to apply a label, this would be the one. I relate to
Beauvoir's commitment and unfortunately to her sick relationship with Sartre; to
his inquiry into reason, but not his sensibilities; to Camus' sensibilities and
understanding of our absurd position in the universe though not his intellectual
exposition. The only problem I have with existentialism is when I compare it
with Hegel's depth in phenomenology, but that's probably because I haven't read
enough Sartre, the only one took on Hegel in his own work. I don't like Sartre's
fiction much compared to Camus and think Beauvoir the better novelist.
>
> We are alone here but also together, and this paradox is most addressed in
existentialism. Joy and terror, as you also mentioned, go hand in hand, as do
many oppositions in reason. A flight to certain beliefs is understandable but
not with the existential condition. The lack of incorporation of science into
existentialism is an arguable problem but so are attempts to dilute it to
specific philosophers. Looking at the whole body of the philosophy's writers, it
easy to observe the differences, but this is a good thing, not a negative. That
Heidegger and Nietzsche are in the pantheon is a positive. What do they have in
common?
>
> Mary
> Mary, I think it is their germanness. They have the hard,analytic minds that
demand rigorous standards and hard thinking. I think it is good that they wrote
before Sarter and Camus. They laid down a base  that the Frenchmen could color
in. I find it easy to relate good science to existentialism and am happy to hear
you consider yourself in the existential camp.You certainly understand science
and existentialism . Now I will try to pull Dick away from his personal
obsessions and back to a more rational base. I really do not expect  much
success but it is not if you win or lose but how you play the game. Bill
> --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "William" <vize9938@> wrote:
> >
> > Certainly Mary understands existentialism and I like her updated conclusions
about the philosophy. I would ask her if she thinks herself an existentialist 
in the present time.
>

Would you be my Saviour Sweet Pea?



Oh my, would you really be my saviour sweep pea grim? Save me from this
awful thing they call life and existing, and all these illusions of
waking up every day and having to do things.  I would willingly put your
name down for the saviour of mankind and I would ring all the bells at
Yuletide in your magnificent honour.  Oh save me sweet pea.

Merlin of Exmoor – and the news here is NOT filled with that woman
being pregnant. Maybe it is in the USA for they are nuts enough to lap
it all up. But good luck to them.







[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Dick." <somerset_2@...> wrote:
>
>
> Would you be my Saviour Sweet Pea?
>
>
>
> Oh my, would you really be my saviour sweep pea grim? Save me from this
> awful thing they call life and existing, and all these illusions of
> waking up every day and having to do things.  I would willingly put your
> name down for the saviour of mankind and I would ring all the bells at
> Yuletide in your magnificent honour.  Oh save me sweet pea.
>
> Merlin of Exmoor – and the news here is NOT filled with that woman
> being pregnant. Maybe it is in the USA for they are nuts enough to lap
> it all up. But good luck to them.
> Merlin, old women here are gaga over the royal news . I doubt I can do much to
save you  but if you want treatment there are plenty of phonies and huxters who
will design a program at some cost. I have spent the afternoon fighting over
insurance benefits and  frustration limits are near. So I fear you are on your
own and will require self help. I will keep you in mind  if I hear of any self
help for mystics. Wouldn`t you be suprised if there were and there was a waiting
list? Bill
>
>
>
>
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>

No Dick,you are on your own. . Enjoy yourself and be happy. All our days are
numbered. Bill

Hey, I don't want to worry you grim or to spoil your moribund view of things,
but I have enjoyed all my life and am still doing so. Many people do. But I know
well enough that you cannot accept that. I have met a few like you before,
albeit not quite so bad as you seem to have it. But there is no hope for them.
As for the unusual states of consciousness which science cannot get its head
around then what the hell, they happen and they are great and revealing. It does
not matter a fried turd what you think about it all :- )))  Enjoy your
retirement young man. IF that is possible.

rwr



--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "William" <vize9938@...> wrote:
>
> No Dick,you are on your own. . Enjoy yourself and be happy. All our days are
numbered. Bill
>

I spent the afternoon  trying to get an insurance company to pay a claim. Now
you might consider that a moribund activity  but with  my new,slow down attitude
I won a certain sort of victory. I turned a collection agency  back on an
insurance company. It was wildly complicated but  a bulldog tenacity  and a calm
demeanor turned the  agressor back on themselves. It was the seeking of a
pragmatic  outcome not necessarily a victory that I now seek. I am not going to
wait for some  strange  mental happening to rearrange my life. I fully predict
that no mystic happening will befall me  and  that does not make me moribund,it
makes me pragmatic. I`m taking the more probable course. I may die prematurly 
but plan for a retirement  that winds down  with reasonable security. I took a
certain joy in repeated contact of two insurance entities and three outside
offices. The attitude was not moribund but  steadfast and pragmatic. I know I am
correct  about the matter  and  now have the time to  pursue matters fully. I
have the same steadfast attitude about existentialism and no amount of yelling 
or insults will change me. I am now cooking Goulasch Suppa and plan to enjoy the
work. I`m not moribund,I`m hungry. I got the recipe from a austrian chef .
  Ashley Judd is thinking about running against Milt McConell for senate. That
could be a great fight. Milt is the epitomy of old school ,southern cronyism and
Ashley is a fiery actress married to a Gran Prix driver.I like the juxtaposition
and will be watching the  unfolding of events. Good fun,not moribund. Bill

Epic Stories?



[ You mentioned that stories have always been told and that they always
will be told. Which among them do you see as the enduring epic stories?
]



What is a story without the listener; a play without an audience to ride
upon? What does the audience demand?  They demand the things which they
can respond to and feel to be a part of while also having that element
of inspiration. But they want it write large.  And those stories which
endure the longest are called the Epics. Two that I know of which grab
each new generation as they come along, and can be adapted and modified
for all times and all generations are The Iliad and Camelot. And you
don't find all the trials, tribulations, challenges, passions,
politics, romance, writ more large than in those two epics; and there is
always somebody in the story that each member of the audience can feel
an empathy towards. They will always endure in the public imagination.
So, they are timeless stories which never grow stale or out of date.
Like music and like poetry the story must have the power to lift the
audience to a place which the normal work-a-day world does not take them
to. And do they not hunger for just that?



rwr







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Integrity of the Media



Two Australian broadcasters phone up the hospital in London, were a
young pregnant woman who is not well and thus being treated is staying,
pretending to be the mother-in-law of the young woman. And this is where
the news comes from. Nothing new of course. Oh what a lovely species
humanity is here. What a delight it will be when all memory of it is
erased. Pity that the best of it is brought down by the worst of it. Let
us hope that those who are here for the next fifty years find
intelligence and integrity out there somewhere, for they will not find
it here in sufficient doses to be noticed. Perhaps a bloody great
disaster might bring them to their senses. And perhaps not. Maybe they
don't have any to find.



rwr





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Humanity Seeded Here?



[ What do you make of all these theories and very old mysteries and all
the earliest mathematics found in ancient monuments which seem to
indicate that we were seeded here? ]



Not interested. Human beings ARE life are they not. The seed of my being
is within me. It does not come from OUT THERE in space. Are you new
here?  How many times have I said that I am not from here?  Neither will
the seed of my being be found by numbers or geometry or astronomy. If
some incarnate life put humanity on this planet then where did they come
from? Where is their seed of being? What the hell difference does it
make as to where life first entered the physical universe?  None at all.
Life is here NOW, right where you are living your life NOW. HERE ! Study
LIFE. Study yourself. Fed up with saying it sir. The seed of your being
is closer to you than your feet are. Man and Consciousness is an
inter-dimensional phenomenon – INWARDS. The seed of my being is in
ETERNITY, not out there. Conscious existence does NOT start in space and
time. Find out for yourself and don't lean on others.  I AM (and you
are) Ab Aeterno Ad Hoc. I AM from no thing brought forth in time and
space. Nor will you take anything made in time and space back with you
to from whence you come.



Dick Richardson







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Why is it hidden?



[ Why is it hidden from the physical eyes Richard? And if there is that
eternal realm then why is it still sad when somebody dies? ]



I am not an oracle of answers Ma'am. But I feel that I can address
those two well enough. Why is it hidden (occulted) from the physical
eyes? Why is the world hidden from the Inner eye? So, these thing are
NOT hidden at all. Different tools for different jobs Ma'am. Seeing
is only a tool. It is WHAT you see that counts and causes effects.



Why is it sad when somebody dies?  Because that manifestation in time
will never exist in time again. That is why. If that thing was loved
then it is even more sad for the lover isn't it. If it was not loved
then that is even sadder. But if that person loved and even though it
was not loved in return, then that does not really matter too much does
it. Ask yourself as to what it is that you really love and why? And ask
yourself as to why love at all?  And you will find out that it is not a
choice. Some say that to love is to be chained. Well, IT IS. But being
chained is no problem. It is what you are chained to which can be the
problem. If you really did love something then you will be chained to it
all your life here, and no matter whether it is gone or not. Not really
a problem is it. A chain is only an anchor, and you are always anchored
to the Ground of your Being. I AM always with you, even unto the end of
time and beyond.



Have a nice day Ma'am.



Dick Richardson







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Electromagnetic Brain? [ Some theories suggest that consciousness is the
result of electromagnetic fields generated by the brain. So how would
human evolution and consciousness expansion fit with mystical
experience? ] Sounds like a brain wave :- ) Well, it would dump my
theory that it is caused by Marmite and Peanut Butter. The Brain must
surely be the most complex machine known to humanity as well as being
the most mysterious and little understood. But no matter what causes
consciousness, we have got it. So, what exists to become conscious of? I
know that I am aware of experiencing things. So, what things?   But
human beings are not the only things with brains. So, one ought to take
a look at the evolution of BRAIN. They do say that the nearest thing to
me is a monkey and that we share almost the same DNA.  (we don't
share the same toilet by the way) But they tell me that monkeys have
about a seven billion brain cells and that we have about 90 billion
brain cells. A good question would be how much of our brain potential do
we actually use effectively. Is it a machine just ticking over waiting
to be used more effectively? And maybe we need a heart transplant.  So,
when asserting that I am not consciousness but rather something which
consciousness passes through am I saying that I am a puddle of water in
the head dome which has a few other chemicals dumped in it? The OCEAN of
consciousness would be very fitting then would it not :- ) As for
consciousness expansion then I have known that, and written about it.
And it happens so quick. It is quite alarming. But it shrank again. It
closed down almost to a point of no duration, and then WHAM. So, could
these electromagnetic waves generated by this puddle of water get
outside of the head and modulate the structure of a brick wall and then
cause a ghost phenomenon via the walls of a house?  Oh I do love
theories don't you? Me thinks that a good idea (brain wave) would be
to set about proving them all to be right or wrong. The place is
littered with dead theories innit. So, let us make lasting waves eh. But
if the brain is like a radio transmitter that can send out
electromagnetic waves then what signals can it receive? And what is the
signal to noise ratio?  And from whence do those received signals come
from? And NO – don't say it :- ) A bigger transmitter. CQ CQ CQ
is anybody out there? I must get a bigger antenna. How is  yours
working? Perhaps I will build a bigger antenna on mount Sigh on High. Or
I could always be a water fairy perhaps. Isn't it fun lads. But it
will soon be the Tide of Yule. It hardly ever stops reigning here in
this King Dome. Radio Merlin. QTH the stagnant pond down by the old bull
and bush.


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Brains on legs and the happy button?



[ I had to smile Radio Merlin : )) So, the theory goes, if we could
close down all incoming signals into the pond and shut out the outside
world then maybe this type of meditation or that type of  poppy mixture
might cause the mystical experience which they all seem to want. You say
that you have never meditated or taken in poppy mixture, is that right?
As an idealistic boy did you have any idea of what you wanted to be or
do when you grew up? ]



That is correct sir, I have never meditated and never ingested mind
altering drugs. Had a dose of morphine administered once many years ago
owing to a very bad pain in the chest, and it soon cured it. But I am
told that all these drugs which press their happy buttons also stop
their happy buttons from working naturally and they then need more  and
more happy powder otherwise they get the deep blues. What a sad state of
affairs eh. But that is their choice so good luck to them.



But no, I DO NOT know what causes the transcendent mystical experience.
But there are millions out there who will tell you how to get the
mystical transcendent experience ;- ) However, those who claim to know
don't seem to know the mystical experience :- )) So it sure is fun
watching it all isn't it. But I see no reason why it should seem odd
that we come to know what we are and where we come from.  More odd if we
don't it seems to me.  This is why they get cross with me because I
talk about these things but I cannot tell them where to buy it :- )))
But the natural world out there presses my happy buttons well enough.  I
have found far too many things which press my happy buttons. Perhaps I
have too many of them and they are easily tripped.  Personally I have
found that all the known triggers exist out there in the natural world.
As for the shutting out of the outside world then when that happens I
fall asleep :- )



I find the outside to be a good teacher and I love studying it all –
as well as the inside. But I guess I did the inside first. But where
that takes you to is not about being happy. It is about something more
important than that.  And no powders were used I can assure you. As for
happy buttons then you don't know what presses them until they have
been pressed.  What comes natural is fine by me. Yeah, I guess brains
need legs eh :- ) Mine ain't too good these days and I don't get
around much any more for the last six months :- )) The energy is still
there but it ain't reaching the feet too well.  The channel seems to
be blocked up and it is not out-sourcing too well.  But never mind; been
there done that. There are other things to do in the Greenwich mean
time. Especially watching :- )) And I am the Watcher from the Gates of
Dawn.



But you know how it is here don't you, most of them are more
interested in watching the economy and too busy watching the stock
markets than they are in watching life and living it. Maybe that is why
they are like what they are like. And you need legs to get to the money
dispenser. I like my world best. The weather forecast here is for two
consecutive sunny days. That will dry the sods out a bit.



No, I had no idea what I wanted to be or to do when I was little, and I
still don't; so maybe I have not grown up yet :- ) I think that
aiming to be something is very limiting. That is why the mystic life is
exciting for you don't know where you are going next. But life has
been good and very mysterious. But unlike gurus and religionists I will
stick with what I know from experience thus far. So, from there, then
into the unknown I commit my whatever :- )))



Dick Richardson







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Bill,

Somehow I missed your post about having a vantage point when retired. Your kind
expressions inspired me to expose a review I wrote for a poet I met online. I
apologize for any formatting discrepancies with the author's poetry. The lines
are to separate her poems from my words about them.

**********

We each have unique emotional modes of survival. Some of us are genetically
predisposed and conditioned to the practical efficacy of cheerfulness. We
modestly claim neither innocence for ourselves nor blindness to life's many
injustices. There are others distinctively predisposed and conditioned for
melancholy or anger. And obviously many others live with varying degrees of
stability along this axis. We, the cheerful, usually annoy the hell out of the
angry and simply overwhelm the depressed. So normally I'm embarrassed to confess
an affinity with the gladding crowd. That was until I read Geraldine Green's new
chapbook, PASSIO. Occasionally I challenge myself and plunge the depths of
initially alien sensibilities, to the best of my ability and limitation, but
henceforth I shall unabashedly admit my comfort with the familiar. It's rare to
find someone whose aesthetic is so similar to mine.

The very first page of Green's chap is a single sheet of turquoise blue paper,
slipped between the cover and title pages. She begins with an etymology of the
word itself, passion: L. passio, passionis from patior, passus, to bear, to
suffer; allied to Greek pathos, suffering, akin to patient, passive, compatible

Green begins her thirty-six poem collection with an exquisitely gentle devotion
to the sacred experience of a new day. She shares a pagan reverence for the
living cosmos with the precise sound and touch of her words.

EARLY MORNING PRAYER

This is the quiet indulgence, sitting here, these keys clicking together like
rosary beads, or the soft click of amber against amber

the rain's incessant window-tapping making a music, me space-filled, the wind
I'm listening to entering me like silk blowing

or spider's threads coming together to weave some sound from nothing,
thinking back to conversations and dreams the sweet insistence of diastole
systole diastole,

the movement of breath among mountains, a Ghazal woven into a carpet, or the
soft click of raindrops ambered against a window.

It is almost a prayer this time of morning, that I may never know certainties,
it is almost a litany of outside coming in, an opening of blood and sinews and
bones, the interstices of my body allowing the universe to enter in all its
tattered glory.

This is a prayer I am praying in the quiet, wild hours of morning, sweet lord of
night bless me, sweet lady of the far-seeing eyes cover me with a silk shroud.
__________

Every person, plant, bird, tree, creature, and the multitude of other natural
gems Green encounters are connected by subjectively experienced correspondences.
She carries them inside her web of reality and explains them so carefully to the
reader. Each phrase is an earthly metaphor with a rich history, and Geraldine
Green has the fantastic ability to end each poem with a single line that leaves
you suspended in a nearly timeless contemplation. She shares her aesthetic, her
method of observation and communion, quite effectively. Convinced of her own
bearings she rarely founders. I might struggle with a few of her metaphorical
knots, but I'm an eager mate on her voyage, knowing and nodding yes to how she
perceives.

Green's own agonies are barely perceptible to the reader, because she bears them
so gracefully. She modestly betrays a bountiful ability to experience pleasure,
with no grief too great to bear. Her personal travails find quiet relief in the
memories of her pilgrimage and travel, which in turn generously spice her poems.
She conveys memories so naturally, whether imagined, evolutionary, or conscious.
The past is always present through language and memory. They don't exist without
each other.

OIL is the story of a soldier who carries horrible memories of the war on terror
to back his homecoming:
__________

He wore the easy sound of a smile on his finger,
the ribbon-wrapped present on his tongue,
the smile of a thousand poor nations under his skin.

He carried the smile of a dying child in his eyes,
the smile of impoverished people with swollen bellies of children in his kitbag,
as he walked away from the war.

He carried blackened corpses, broken rivers, peeled lemons, wrappers of sweets,
plastic bottles, cones, bayonets, tank turrets,
swarm of bees, ants that stung like fire - or was that the rain of bullets?

easy swung hips of tall women,
heads loaded with water jugs, hearts loaded with nothing,
wombs full of unborn children.

[...]

His welcome home banner said, 'welcome
home' His mother said, 'Your father would have been'
His sister chewed her fingers, her child tugged
at her skirt, his friend went on tinkering under
the bonnet of his car. 'The oil needs changing',
he said.
_________

I contemplate most westerners' calamities.

I think of Milton's Samson, eyeless in Gaza* and ask: who today are the
Philistines? Who are the chosen? Who are the slaves? Who patiently bides their
time with 'restrained' violence for that final act of bringing down the pillars
upon themselves and all the 'infidels' - for the glory of their gods and oil?
Every belligerent side of this ancient conflict has the power to plunge us into
total darkness. Myths obfuscate ungodly intent. They glorify oppositions and
fuel the fallacy of perpetual struggle and renewal.

Samson was a Palestinian Sun-god who, becoming inappropriately included in the
corpus of Jewish religious myth, was finally written down as an Israelite hero
of the time of the Judges. That he belonged to an exogamic and therefore
matrilineal society is proved by Delilah's remaining with her own tribe after
marriage; in patriarchal society the wife goes to her husband's tribe. The name
'Samson' means 'Of the Sun' and 'Dan', his tribe, is an appellation of the
Assyrian Sun-god. Samson, like Hercules, killed a lion with his bare hands...
and his riddle about the bees...was annually shorn of his hair and power by the
Moon-goddess; his male adorants dedicating their forelocks to him in mourning.

Green's title poem is very mythaphorical. Yes, I know Jesus is another
sacrificed solar king, but the poem as a whole is a bit of a stretch. In it she
uses twelve stanzas (stations of the cross) and the "My God, my God. Why hast
thou forsaken me?" refrain. Unfortunately PASSIO comes across as only a minor
'tragedy' as she struggles to connect her observations of Skiathos, a beautiful
Greek island, with an already muddled mythology. PASSIO belies a creative
torment and ultimately it comes across as a contrivance. She suffers at the
hands of the elements, primarily the scorching, merciless, blinding sun. The
insurmountable heat is surrounded and taunted by the blue sea, succulent aloes,
and there's "a calling of madness that licks the land like a cat in the
morning." There is some sexual imagery, but if the poem is an erotic metaphor,
like King Solomon's Song of Songs, it's far too oblique and confusing. If it's a
hallucinogenic vision quest fueled by the spirits of ouzo, sugar cubes or wild
woodbine, or an imitation of a Passover plot, I still can't connect with it.
Green seems 'abandoned' to a situation which in reality she can easily escape
but instead invokes sun gods who blaze and haunt Skiathos. Evening, a cool
moon-goddess, arrives merely as a classic, formulaic balance. PASSIO is not the
best poem in this book. The others work better because their spirituality is
subtle. I suspect she agonized over the decision to make this poem less
prominent. It seems almost pretentious compared to the other poems that more
characteristically portray her understanding of the of all-or-nothing risk of
passion. The title and contents of this chap don't depend on the inclusion of
this poem which can only be marginally justified by Green's humility in the face
of such a daunting, historic landscape. Almost miraculously, she seems aware of
these 'sins' and redeems the island narrative with her more typical
contemplation in the final stanza of PASSIO:

A hand rises beneath me as the land does the ocean
and if I never return to this island of shadows
I will remember the agony of sunshine
and the long, slow drop of honey drunk from the thread of wild woodbine.

I greatly enjoyed this piece of imagined memory...
__________

A POEM NOT YET WRITTEN

[...]

- like the ones at Lascaux
O they were beautiful! My grandmother painted buffalo
on the earth's curves
to teach me of the stars' courses
she sang of deer stained her hair purple and cried
when I asked her where she went to in her dreams.

...this depiction of evolutionary memory...

LAST NIGHT

[...]

In the days after we became wind and sand,
became the tight buds of coral
that the sea broke and planted in our garden
when we were once the cry of pines
plunging into the silence of a walled ocean.

...and this very personal phrasing of conscious memory.

BLUE VEIN

[...]

I showed you my greenblue vein that runs from my heart finger

[...].

my bluegreen vein runs like a stream to my shoulder,
curves and rests somewhere close to my breast.

I know what it means,
you know what it means,
but we don't speak of it.
__________

Green continues the tradition of ancient Celtic poets. We are not separate from
nature. She even asks, "Is the design of flowers in the pattern of humans?" The
first contemplative poets recognized the observer-participation phenomenon
millennia before it was labeled quantum. For them it wasn't paradoxical. Both
happen inseparably, no inside, no outside. All together now.

Here is Green's closing poem, her own rendition of a Celtic blessing:
__________

GREEN LIZARDS

May green lizards walk across the keyboard of your world,
pausing now and then to lick their feet clean of letters;

may a pheasant searching for its mate find her
under the Magnolia Stellata at the far end of your garden;

may monkeys scatter leaves for you as you search
for somewhere to lay your head below level of the wind;

may the spiders that haunt the crevices of your mind
go spin their webs in someone else's woodshed;

may the hot hand of a child always be there for you
when you're feeling sad or afraid.

May you hear my name when you least expect it,
may you always call out for me, I'll always hear

because it is there in the wind and the stars and the frogs
purring in the pond as they spread their nets of spawn,

because your voice is like a tiny bird struggling to break
out of the shackles of its shell,

because your voice is home to me when I'm afraid in the dark time
of morning when the house breathes its unexpected noises.

May you always have some snow on the north slopes
of your land to remind you of winter

and when the summer sun warms the soil to copper,
may you have crab chowder to eat after a day on the water.

May you come to me each night in my dreams,
hold me, call my name, hold me, call my name.
__________

Geraldine Green's poetry is a quietly intense rebellion against withdrawal and
the surrender of passion because pain seems unbearable. Isolation and numbness
only trade one agony for another. Her poetry reinforces my own patience, to
grind on when necessary, still hoping for the collapse of all obstacles to
unfettered love, to the end of my own contemplation.

"And calm of mind, all passions spent"

Mary

London Bombs Website

A Website which only went up today.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-20637222
<http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-20637222>

http://bombsight.org/#15/51.5050/-0.0900
<http://bombsight.org/#15/51.5050/-0.0900>

It is however only the bombs that dropped for the eight months of the
Blitz from October 1940 to June 1941. So not the whole of the war.
However, it is not even  all the bombs of that period. But it is in
interesting website nonetheless. But it is being too heavily hit today
so not operating too well.

I found the bomb which took our house out right at the beginning of it,
but they have only one bomb falling there. In fact there were two, for
two consecutive nights. The site is at Tottenham Hale, Broad Lane
Tottenham N15.  The first night an incendiary bomb landed on our shelter
in the back yard. We were supposed to have been in it but they had all
stayed in the house playing cards. The second night the high explosive
bomb dropped on the same spot and took out three or four houses. But we
were not in it. We had gone down in a shelter in a factory just across
the road.  It would be interesting to see all the bombs that landed on
London for the whole six years; and including the V1's and the V2
rockets. But maybe even this is more than enough. Not the best of times
to be sure.

rwr







[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Mary" <josephson45r@...> wrote:
>
> Bill,
>
> Somehow I missed your post about having a vantage point when retired. Your
kind expressions inspired me to expose a review I wrote for a poet I met online.
I apologize for any formatting discrepancies with the author's poetry. The lines
are to separate her poems from my words about them.
>
> **********
>
> We each have unique emotional modes of survival. Some of us are genetically
predisposed and conditioned to the practical efficacy of cheerfulness. We
modestly claim neither innocence for ourselves nor blindness to life's many
injustices. There are others distinctively predisposed and conditioned for
melancholy or anger. And obviously many others live with varying degrees of
stability along this axis. We, the cheerful, usually annoy the hell out of the
angry and simply overwhelm the depressed. So normally I'm embarrassed to confess
an affinity with the gladding crowd. That was until I read Geraldine Green's new
chapbook, PASSIO. Occasionally I challenge myself and plunge the depths of
initially alien sensibilities, to the best of my ability and limitation, but
henceforth I shall unabashedly admit my comfort with the familiar. It's rare to
find someone whose aesthetic is so similar to mine.
>
> The very first page of Green's chap is a single sheet of turquoise blue paper,
slipped between the cover and title pages. She begins with an etymology of the
word itself, passion: L. passio, passionis from patior, passus, to bear, to
suffer; allied to Greek pathos, suffering, akin to patient, passive, compatible
>
> Green begins her thirty-six poem collection with an exquisitely gentle
devotion to the sacred experience of a new day. She shares a pagan reverence for
the living cosmos with the precise sound and touch of her words.
>
> EARLY MORNING PRAYER
>
> This is the quiet indulgence, sitting here, these keys clicking together like
rosary beads, or the soft click of amber against amber
>
> the rain's incessant window-tapping making a music, me space-filled, the wind
I'm listening to entering me like silk blowing
>
> or spider's threads coming together to weave some sound from nothing,
> thinking back to conversations and dreams the sweet insistence of diastole
systole diastole,
>
> the movement of breath among mountains, a Ghazal woven into a carpet, or the
soft click of raindrops ambered against a window.
>
> It is almost a prayer this time of morning, that I may never know certainties,
> it is almost a litany of outside coming in, an opening of blood and sinews and
bones, the interstices of my body allowing the universe to enter in all its
tattered glory.
>
> This is a prayer I am praying in the quiet, wild hours of morning, sweet lord
of night bless me, sweet lady of the far-seeing eyes cover me with a silk
shroud.
> __________
>
> Every person, plant, bird, tree, creature, and the multitude of other natural
gems Green encounters are connected by subjectively experienced correspondences.
She carries them inside her web of reality and explains them so carefully to the
reader. Each phrase is an earthly metaphor with a rich history, and Geraldine
Green has the fantastic ability to end each poem with a single line that leaves
you suspended in a nearly timeless contemplation. She shares her aesthetic, her
method of observation and communion, quite effectively. Convinced of her own
bearings she rarely founders. I might struggle with a few of her metaphorical
knots, but I'm an eager mate on her voyage, knowing and nodding yes to how she
perceives.
>
> Green's own agonies are barely perceptible to the reader, because she bears
them so gracefully. She modestly betrays a bountiful ability to experience
pleasure, with no grief too great to bear. Her personal travails find quiet
relief in the memories of her pilgrimage and travel, which in turn generously
spice her poems. She conveys memories so naturally, whether imagined,
evolutionary, or conscious. The past is always present through language and
memory. They don't exist without each other.
>
> OIL is the story of a soldier who carries horrible memories of the war on
terror to back his homecoming:
> __________
>
> He wore the easy sound of a smile on his finger,
> the ribbon-wrapped present on his tongue,
> the smile of a thousand poor nations under his skin.
>
> He carried the smile of a dying child in his eyes,
> the smile of impoverished people with swollen bellies of children in his
kitbag,
> as he walked away from the war.
>
> He carried blackened corpses, broken rivers, peeled lemons, wrappers of
sweets,
> plastic bottles, cones, bayonets, tank turrets,
> swarm of bees, ants that stung like fire - or was that the rain of bullets?
>
> easy swung hips of tall women,
> heads loaded with water jugs, hearts loaded with nothing,
> wombs full of unborn children.
>
> [...]
>
> His welcome home banner said, 'welcome
> home' His mother said, 'Your father would have been'
> His sister chewed her fingers, her child tugged
> at her skirt, his friend went on tinkering under
> the bonnet of his car. 'The oil needs changing',
> he said.
> _________
>
> I contemplate most westerners' calamities.
>
> I think of Milton's Samson, eyeless in Gaza* and ask: who today are the
Philistines? Who are the chosen? Who are the slaves? Who patiently bides their
time with 'restrained' violence for that final act of bringing down the pillars
upon themselves and all the 'infidels' - for the glory of their gods and oil?
Every belligerent side of this ancient conflict has the power to plunge us into
total darkness. Myths obfuscate ungodly intent. They glorify oppositions and
fuel the fallacy of perpetual struggle and renewal.
>
> Samson was a Palestinian Sun-god who, becoming inappropriately included in the
corpus of Jewish religious myth, was finally written down as an Israelite hero
of the time of the Judges. That he belonged to an exogamic and therefore
matrilineal society is proved by Delilah's remaining with her own tribe after
marriage; in patriarchal society the wife goes to her husband's tribe. The name
'Samson' means 'Of the Sun' and 'Dan', his tribe, is an appellation of the
Assyrian Sun-god. Samson, like Hercules, killed a lion with his bare hands...
and his riddle about the bees...was annually shorn of his hair and power by the
Moon-goddess; his male adorants dedicating their forelocks to him in mourning.
>
> Green's title poem is very mythaphorical. Yes, I know Jesus is another
sacrificed solar king, but the poem as a whole is a bit of a stretch. In it she
uses twelve stanzas (stations of the cross) and the "My God, my God. Why hast
thou forsaken me?" refrain. Unfortunately PASSIO comes across as only a minor
'tragedy' as she struggles to connect her observations of Skiathos, a beautiful
Greek island, with an already muddled mythology. PASSIO belies a creative
torment and ultimately it comes across as a contrivance. She suffers at the
hands of the elements, primarily the scorching, merciless, blinding sun. The
insurmountable heat is surrounded and taunted by the blue sea, succulent aloes,
and there's "a calling of madness that licks the land like a cat in the
morning." There is some sexual imagery, but if the poem is an erotic metaphor,
like King Solomon's Song of Songs, it's far too oblique and confusing. If it's a
hallucinogenic vision quest fueled by the spirits of ouzo, sugar cubes or wild
woodbine, or an imitation of a Passover plot, I still can't connect with it.
Green seems 'abandoned' to a situation which in reality she can easily escape
but instead invokes sun gods who blaze and haunt Skiathos. Evening, a cool
moon-goddess, arrives merely as a classic, formulaic balance. PASSIO is not the
best poem in this book. The others work better because their spirituality is
subtle. I suspect she agonized over the decision to make this poem less
prominent. It seems almost pretentious compared to the other poems that more
characteristically portray her understanding of the of all-or-nothing risk of
passion. The title and contents of this chap don't depend on the inclusion of
this poem which can only be marginally justified by Green's humility in the face
of such a daunting, historic landscape. Almost miraculously, she seems aware of
these 'sins' and redeems the island narrative with her more typical
contemplation in the final stanza of PASSIO:
>
> A hand rises beneath me as the land does the ocean
> and if I never return to this island of shadows
> I will remember the agony of sunshine
> and the long, slow drop of honey drunk from the thread of wild woodbine.
>
> I greatly enjoyed this piece of imagined memory...
> __________
>
> A POEM NOT YET WRITTEN
>
> [...]
>
> - like the ones at Lascaux
> O they were beautiful! My grandmother painted buffalo
> on the earth's curves
> to teach me of the stars' courses
> she sang of deer stained her hair purple and cried
> when I asked her where she went to in her dreams.
>
> ...this depiction of evolutionary memory...
>
> LAST NIGHT
>
> [...]
>
> In the days after we became wind and sand,
> became the tight buds of coral
> that the sea broke and planted in our garden
> when we were once the cry of pines
> plunging into the silence of a walled ocean.
>
> ...and this very personal phrasing of conscious memory.
>
> BLUE VEIN
>
> [...]
>
> I showed you my greenblue vein that runs from my heart finger
>
> [...].
>
> my bluegreen vein runs like a stream to my shoulder,
> curves and rests somewhere close to my breast.
>
> I know what it means,
> you know what it means,
> but we don't speak of it.
> __________
>
> Green continues the tradition of ancient Celtic poets. We are not separate
from nature. She even asks, "Is the design of flowers in the pattern of humans?"
The first contemplative poets recognized the observer-participation phenomenon
millennia before it was labeled quantum. For them it wasn't paradoxical. Both
happen inseparably, no inside, no outside. All together now.
>
> Here is Green's closing poem, her own rendition of a Celtic blessing:
> __________
>
> GREEN LIZARDS
>
> May green lizards walk across the keyboard of your world,
> pausing now and then to lick their feet clean of letters;
>
> may a pheasant searching for its mate find her
> under the Magnolia Stellata at the far end of your garden;
>
> may monkeys scatter leaves for you as you search
> for somewhere to lay your head below level of the wind;
>
> may the spiders that haunt the crevices of your mind
> go spin their webs in someone else's woodshed;
>
> may the hot hand of a child always be there for you
> when you're feeling sad or afraid.
>
> May you hear my name when you least expect it,
> may you always call out for me, I'll always hear
>
> because it is there in the wind and the stars and the frogs
> purring in the pond as they spread their nets of spawn,
>
> because your voice is like a tiny bird struggling to break
> out of the shackles of its shell,
>
> because your voice is home to me when I'm afraid in the dark time
> of morning when the house breathes its unexpected noises.
>
> May you always have some snow on the north slopes
> of your land to remind you of winter
>
> and when the summer sun warms the soil to copper,
> may you have crab chowder to eat after a day on the water.
>
> May you come to me each night in my dreams,
> hold me, call my name, hold me, call my name.
> __________
>
> Geraldine Green's poetry is a quietly intense rebellion against withdrawal and
the surrender of passion because pain seems unbearable. Isolation and numbness
only trade one agony for another. Her poetry reinforces my own patience, to
grind on when necessary, still hoping for the collapse of all obstacles to
unfettered love, to the end of my own contemplation.
>
> "And calm of mind, all passions spent"
>
> Mary
>
Mary, a lot to think about and much too  much to feel. I put out peanuts and the
crows are outside. Ageso  nd  far re them   n tey wa gra deal.Agression  and
fear ule them wihthe flck seig gang et of little usewereit not for defense. M
quirll  is taking back the tree  but the crows are back and he food is nearly
gone. Threeansft now one andone crow.
I have mover The Budda outside and he probably not survive the winter.
Reclaiming space  seems  sequental penance. The moralist would say I hve too
much  stuff  but I just gave away numerous surgcal instruments to one of my
previous associates She is a super dentist with her mother a GP and her father 
a dental school professor. Such rae andcodinaon She wntedmygant
aticolaradIcridit o te car for hee. I am greving the loss of  a classmates wife.
Unexpected and just when he was beginning to retire. Sucha oad to carry suddenly
alone. The wake is at the morturary where I used to work. His ame is work and I
am not going to attempt to go. Just too much right now. Bill

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Dick." <somerset_2@...> wrote:
>
>
> London Bombs Website
>
> A Website which only went up today.
>
> http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-20637222
> <http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-london-20637222>
>
> http://bombsight.org/#15/51.5050/-0.0900
> <http://bombsight.org/#15/51.5050/-0.0900>
>
> It is however only the bombs that dropped for the eight months of the
> Blitz from October 1940 to June 1941. So not the whole of the war.
> However, it is not even  all the bombs of that period. But it is in
> interesting website nonetheless. But it is being too heavily hit today
> so not operating too well.
>
> I found the bomb which took our house out right at the beginning of it,
> but they have only one bomb falling there. In fact there were two, for
> two consecutive nights. The site is at Tottenham Hale, Broad Lane
> Tottenham N15.  The first night an incendiary bomb landed on our shelter
> in the back yard. We were supposed to have been in it but they had all
> stayed in the house playing cards. The second night the high explosive
> bomb dropped on the same spot and took out three or four houses. But we
> were not in it. We had gone down in a shelter in a factory just across
> the road.  It would be interesting to see all the bombs that landed on
> London for the whole six years; and including the V1's and the V2
> rockets. But maybe even this is more than enough. Not the best of times
> to be sure.
>
> rwr
> Merlin, I slept under 105 m.m. cannon firing overhead. Not much sleep  but I
think low flying fighters are worse. F15 are really  disruptive. We had a pilot 
buzz the western part of the city. He hasn`t given a reason  but he is  being
debrifed and has been grounded.
The local rag has interviewed a pearl harbour survivor. He was on the Nevada and
stayed in the Navy for thirty years. He said it  just rained death all day. The
Nevada was run aground after taking 7 bomb hits. His ship group is now
disbanded. There are so few left there  is no one to participate. So tell those
war stories, it is good to know what is really bad and what is just a
hinderance. Thanks Merlin. Bill
>
>
>
>
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>

Tell the War Stories?

[ Merlin, I slept under 105 m.m. cannon firing overhead. Not much sleep
but I
think low flying fighters are worse. F15 are really disruptive. We had a
pilot
buzz the western part of the city. He hasn`t given a reason but he is
being
debrifed and has been grounded. The local rag has interviewed a pearl
harbour survivor. He was on the Nevada and stayed in the Navy for thirty
years. He said it just rained death all day. The Nevada was run aground
after taking 7 bomb hits. His ship group is now disbanded. There are so
few left there is no one to participate. So tell those war stories, it
is good to know what is really bad and what is just a hinderance. Thanks
Merlin. Bill ]

My wife keeps saying tell the war stories, and write them to
organisations which collect them. But I don't really think that I am
the right person to tell them; for two reasons. One being that I was
only a boy, not a  responsible adult. The other reason was that I knew
(know) nothing about life before the war; so it was all I knew. The odd
thing to me was when it ended and there was no war. Yet I am glad that I
saw all that, for in doing so I saw the very best (as well as the worst)
in humanity.  I have never been as proud of humanity as I was during the
six years of war.

Unfortunately films (movies) don't tell this story. And much of the
filmed documentaries during the war were nothing but propaganda.  And
British people never did talk like you see in old movies. They talked
exactly the same as they talk today. And with all due respect all
American war films are a pathetic joke. There was one very good TV
documentary series called The World at War. About thirty hours of it if
I recall. War is HORRIFIC. Religions talk of a hell, there is no hell,
but war is worse than anything which religions could invent. And it
isn't the dead who suffer, it is the living.

Before too long there will be nobody around to speak of war such is in
both of those wars. Try and imagine what it felt like being the only
tiny country left in Europe standing alone, with nothing, no army, no
equipment, no  food, no prospects, in the face of that lot. Yet there
wasn't a choice. It was survive or die. British people could not
have lived that way under such a diabolical regime. It was not a chess
game.

Apart from Pearl Harbour America knew nothing about war, it still
doesn't. True enough some Americans do for they took part in it, and
they were over here. I remember them well. They have also instigated
wars elsewhere since then and have lost enough of their people. You
mentioned low flying aircraft attacking in the ships. Did you ever see
the  Stuka Dive Bombers machine gunning people in the streets who were
going to work and going shopping?  But the worst part was death falling
from the sky every day for six years. The first war was more or less
hand to hand fighting, but WW2 was a technological war. What if the
Germans had had Spitfires? And what if they had got the atomic bomb
first? Why don't veterans like talking about the war? Because words
cannot describe it; and it is too horrific. Plus they want to forget it.
But we must not forget it. Had you been a boy here in those days it
would be writ larger in your memory too.

But, you know, it is strange, for all the normal things of life still go
on at such times. People are people are they not. The little things in
life are the big things. And they always will be. But as for that first
eight months of the bombing of London then I don't remember too much
of it. Just bits here and there. We were bombed out right at the
beginning of it and had no place to live. So I found myself down here
close by to where I am living now in West Somerset, and just for a short
while down near Plymouth when it too got obliterated while I was there.
But we were only away for a short time and were soon back up in London
again, where I stayed until I was seventeen. And then I left of my own
accord. London died  when the war ended, not while it was on.   While it
was on London was alive. But I think  London died in the mid fifties.

When I hear young historians talking about that war I just want to walk
away, or scream. They have no idea what it was like, for they were not
there. Talk to the people who were there. They know what it was like.
Neither of my wives knew anything about it for one was not born and the
first one was tucked well away from it all in the depths of the country.
But all those who I knew who knew it are all long gone. I sure hope that
humanity never ever sees anything like that again. Let alone lives under
it all. But as for me then I am not qualified to speak of it really for
I was only a boy, and you know what boys are like don't you. Life
was new and it was all an adventure to be explored.  The question here
is  as to who wanted war and why? We sure didn't. But when something
is shoved upon you then what can you do?  You get on with it. As did
they. I am glad that I saw it. But it would have been better not to have
had to have seen it. War and suffering like that is no way to live. So,
mate, I have seen the best of times and the very worst of all times. The
bitter and the sweet.  What shall I do with it? Humanity is the best of
it and the worst of it. Choose your path. Who wants to be a part of the
best of it and who wants to be a part of the worst of it? A person can
choose either way. That is our challenge; and our choice. As for war
then it ought to be against those who want war. Those who see a profit
in it.

Dick Richardson










[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Of  war and the mystical life?

[  It must be just as hard to talk and write of war from the inside
experience of it as it is to talk and write of the mystical life from
the inside experience of it. ]

It is not hard to speak and write of either and both. But it is
POINTLESS. People don't want to know about either. It is more cosy
to not know anything. And it is oh so easy to talk and write about what
you don't know; for you just have to invent it. I hear that and read
it all day every day. But if you can write then you can write about
anything which you do know. Not hard, just POINTLESS. I can soon tell
those who KNOW what they are talking about from those who don't. But
those who don't know do most of the talking and the writing. Sad
isn't it. The best of the future rests with those who know that they
don't know something. For from the recognition of ignorance is the
way forward found. Always. Ignorance is the great motivator to learn.
When I was three I knew that I knew sod all. I don't know much more
now. But I know a bit more now than I did then. You live and learn IF
you are open to learning. I was hungry for it. But I can smell a sham
ten thousand miles away. Twix you and me I think I scare the shit out of
them; for they ban me and avoid me like the grimp and mire. It must be
the Halloween and Spitfire bit in me :- ))))) I wonder where that came
from ;- ) Ab Aeterno Ad Hoc.

rwr





[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Thanks ,Dick, your accounting of WW2 has a personality that the documentaries 
and movies  do not capture. The "World at War" series  was good as it used
footage I had not seen,grainy old film  that seemed  very acurate. The men that
served  from this area were hailed as heros  and my uncle was a Marine who lived
above a service bar. There were war stories  a plenty there . The Vets were a
tough lot and intra service fights were often fought. The marines and Navy were 
always fighting. I knew many Army vets in the National Guard. By that time they
were storied out and   were eclipsed by the Korean conflict. The guys from that
action still had their combat skills and  training with them was a learning
experience. I was in during Nam and that was a mess as no one really knew what
we were doing there or why. Service personell were hated back then and wearing a
uniform  was often unpleasant.
I begin to think of it as one  war that just flares up over and over. It has
certainly  intruded in all our lives to a great extent. I will say they seem to
be getting smaller but not shorter. The deployments here  are so long that the
soldiers come home  senior citizens. They are very specialised  and dog faces
are rare. I helped induct the last of that sort for Nam. Most were simple guys
that did not want to go. When they came home they were not heros,they were spat
on  and the places they hid out were bitter drinking holes full of  desparate,
sad men.
It seems you were in one of those in between generations  as you were too young
to fight but alive enough to die. That it was a win or die situation makes it  a
desparate world that we have not seen since our civil war. You tried us on in
1812 but no one had an army  up to conquering a continent. The battle of New
Orleans showed what a irregular force of  game shots could accomplish against a
regular Army.
I can see the attempt to bring traditional war down to police actions with
robots doing the killing and high intelligence levels cutting short terrorist
and revolutionary  uprisings. This could last for generations  and the old
freedoms will be eroded by surviellance of all sorts . I suppose it is a better
trade off from wholesale bombing you experienced.
Thats where I think your stories  have effect. If the young can see what horrors
they are  avoiding it may be easier for them to abide with intrusions in their
lives, the pat downs,the cameras, the fly overs. At least it is not raining
death like you experienced when they bombed out your very  home. Thanks ,Bill

Bill,

Knowing when to retire is difficult. My ob-gyn who delivered all but two of my
children announced midway through my second to last pregnancy that he was sorry
to tell me he was retiring and passing me along to a colleague. He said he
wanted to live to enjoy his retirement, so I couldn't fault him for that. He
served me from the days of demerol assisted births to completely natural and
loved to deny the first and to tease me about reading too much about ob-gyn
related matters. Before examinination he once begged me to talk to him about
anything :) Congrats on your generosity to your colleague and my sympathy for
your friend's loss. Once I reached a certain age and condition, I knew grief
would kill me. Take care.

Mary

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "William" <vize9938@...> wrote:

I am greving the loss of a classmates wife. Unexpected and just when he was
beginning to retire. Sucha oad to carry suddenly alone. The wake is at the
morturary where I used to work. His ame is work and I am not going to attempt to
go. Just too much right now. Bill

The Other War?



[ Thanks ,Dick, your accounting of WW2 has a personality that the
documentaries  and movies do not capture. The "World at War" series was
good as it used footage I had not seen, grainy old film that seemed very
acurate. The men that served from this area were hailed as heros and my
uncle was a Marine who lived above a service bar. There were war stories
a plenty there . The Vets were a tough lot and intra service fights were
often fought. The marines and Navy were  always fighting. I knew many
Army vets in the National Guard. By that time they were storied out and
were eclipsed by the Korean conflict. The guys from that action still
had their combat skills and training with them was a learning
experience. I was in during Nam and that was a mess as no one really
knew what we were doing there or why. Service personell were hated back
then and wearing a uniform was often unpleasant. I begin to think of it
as one war that just flares up over and over. It has certainly intruded
in all our lives to a great extent. I will say they seem to be getting
smaller but not shorter. The deployments here are so long that the
soldiers come home senior citizens. They are very specialised and dog
faces are rare. I helped induct the last of that sort for Nam. Most were
simple guys that did not want to go. When they came home they were not
heros, they were spat on and the places they hid out were bitter
drinking holes full of desparate, sad men. It seems you were in one of
those in between generations as you were too young to fight but alive
enough to die. That it was a win or die situation makes it a desparate
world that we have not seen since our civil war. You tried us on in 1812
but no one had an army up to conquering a continent. The battle of New
Orleans showed what a irregular force of game shots could accomplish
against a regular Army. I can see the attempt to bring traditional war
down to police actions with robots doing the killing and high
intelligence levels cutting short terrorist and revolutionary uprisings.
This could last for generations and the old freedoms will be eroded by
surviellance of all sorts . I suppose it is a better trade off from
wholesale bombing you experienced. Thats where I think your stories have
effect. If the young can see what horrors they are avoiding it may be
easier for them to abide with intrusions in their lives, the pat downs,
the cameras, the fly overs. At least it is not raining death like you
experienced when they bombed out your very home. Thanks , Bill  ]



I will not  cut and paste any of your email, even though perhaps I ought
to for brevity. So we will let it ride. As for physical wars then the
only heroes are wives and mothers. It is easy to die but it is not so
easy to live. As for the American Civil War then you and I know nothing
about that, for we were not there. Reading isn't knowing. Nor do we
know what was really going on behind the scenes of that one, and by who
and why. There is more to it than bang bang.  But not everything you
read is wrong and even though it is not all there. But as for war there
is greater war weapon than a million hydrogen bombs. I will tell you
what it is in a short while.



There is another war going on, and it is a much longer war than any
physical war. About five or six thousand years I would say. But you
cannot see that war lad, nor can you hear it or smell it or touch it.
But it is there.



You detest religions don't you. But not as much as I do. But who is
behind them lad? You cannot kill them for they are already dead you see;
they died a long time ago. No doubt of old age in comfortable
surroundings.  So, all that is left now is the virus which they sent out
into the world and planted into the minds of people. So, how are you and
your buddies going to fight that war sir Grim William?  I know how.
Yeah, I might well be from the generation in-between but I am also from
the civilisations in-between. What would you do if you had the most
powerful weapon in all existence Grim William? Would you use it on them?
I would. I saw more than enough rivers of tears and mountains of pain; a
long long time ago.



Anyway, I will tell you in one word what the greatest weapon of all time
is. – TRUTH. That is the only weapon which will kill the virus which
plagues the minds of men. And your existentialist buddies do not know
what that is.  Very few people do. But I do. And I used it.



When all the sweet talking is done, and when all the theories are
theorised, and when all the prayers are prayed; you will find that is
not enough to get the woman pregnant. Not does any of that drop the bomb
of truth. I know well enough that you think what I have lived through is
either a lie or a silly joke. I don't hold that against you lad. I
don't hold it against anybody. But what I have lived through hands
you a bomb. A virus killing bomb.



So, I wish you and yours, and all your countrymen, and all men
everywhere and every when, a merry Yuletide; and many more to come.  It
is the harvest gathering festival at the return of the sun. I gathered
the harvest in a long long time ago.  It is a bomb. A weapon of war
against THE LIE. Yeah, I know a bit about mice and men. Unfortunately
the bomb is a time bomb with a long fuse. So, I am not sure when it will
go off.  But go off IT WILL.



I have intended going QRT for a long time now, but it never seemed to
happen. But now is a good time. At the end of the year don't you
think? So, nice chatting with you. But no more CQ's eh. I have done
what I intended doing. So, don't look at the fairy atop of the Yule
Tree and think of me. For I will be in the Ground. As for friends, well
that's as maybe. But where were they when the shit was flying? Too
late now.



Dick Richardson







[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

--- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "Mary" <josephson45r@...> wrote:
>
> Bill,
>
> Knowing when to retire is difficult. My ob-gyn who delivered all but two of my
children announced midway through my second to last pregnancy that he was sorry
to tell me he was retiring and passing me along to a colleague. He said he
wanted to live to enjoy his retirement, so I couldn't fault him for that. He
served me from the days of demerol assisted births to completely natural and
loved to deny the first and to tease me about reading too much about ob-gyn
related matters. Before examinination he once begged me to talk to him about
anything :) Congrats on your generosity to your colleague and my sympathy for
your friend's loss. Once I reached a certain age and condition, I knew grief
would kill me. Take care.
>
> Mary
> Mary, The mad incosistancys blast into life and disrupt planning and
consistancy. Your  statement about grief might be modified with  a consideration
of guilt. So many times it is just not your fault, you did the right thing and
got slaughtered anyway. The felt part of such a situation should be scrubbed
clean of guilt  and be less corrosive over all. That is a positive part  of
existentialism for me. There is no diety or priesthood out there to slather the
guilt on and make me pay for forgiveness. If you make a rational decision  it
will be defensable  to many.
It is the  hard responsibility that was killing me. The numbers and  the timing
were correct and  continuance  could make me inneffective and a risk to more
than just myself. I am going out on a positive  note  . It is beginning to be
apparent I had little left to fight the battles further. I will risk  little
from here  on. I have a place to refer the hard, dangerous  procedures and it as
if  a great weight has been lifted in the transferance.
In a related matter I point to the nurse who self terminated in the joke case
with the royal. I noticed it riled Dick and it also disturbed me. There are
professionals who care deeply about what they do. A supposed failure  can be
crushing,devastating. If she died of guilt it is truly tragic, a grusome
contradiction with reality. I have heard some calling for hard penalties for the
DJ`s. I dislike the term closure but in this  tragedy of errors it seems there
need be some authority to squelch the the raging  disorder. Sooner rather than
later. Bill
> --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "William" <vize9938@> wrote:
>
> I am greving the loss of a classmates wife. Unexpected and just when he was
beginning to retire. Sucha oad to carry suddenly alone. The wake is at the
morturary where I used to work. His ame is work and I am not going to attempt to
go. Just too much right now. Bill
>

D.J's Bankers and Bushiness Cartels



Don't be too hard on the two silly Australian D.J's for they are
just devoid of intelligence and human decency. I am dammed sure that
there was no real malice and intent of harm in them – for they are
not clever enough for that; they are far too dumb.  But they will have
to live with that for the rest of their lives. That is punishment enough
and sooner them than me. So, people like that just need a good
education. And life and society will give them that sure enough. Nor was
there any need for the nurse to kill herself ( IF that is what
happened). But obviously she felt guilty and presumably could not live
with that. Guilt is a killer, as is remorse. Very sad case indeed. There
are no winners here; for everyone loses. And the world has lost a good
person.



But as most people know well enough, and as Nadeem pointed out, Bankers
and International Business Cartels ARE intelligent and they do know what
is going on and they do know how to operate. Just as did Priestcrafty
Politics in days of old. But what does society do about them?  NOTHING !
They are too scared to do anything. I am not. There are others who are
not. But not many alas.  But not ALL bankers and Businessmen are shite
hawks. You find shite hawks in all walks of life and in all nations and
all villages and in all past times. And perhaps for a long time yet to
come.



Nadeem is a Muslim (of sorts). I am not. He is also a monotheist of
sorts. I am not. Salam was a Muslim of  sorts. But his great love was
also TRUTH. So is mine. BUT you have to find out what it is and where it
is found. You must not invent it. I was very surprised to hear than
Nadeem's religion's profit said that what Humanity is based upon
cannot be seen by the physical eye, nor heard by the ear, nor touched
with the physical hand and could not be navigated to by the rational
mind of man. I wonder where he heard that one from. It also shook me
many years ago when I first read it somewhere. For it is true. So some
people have known it too.



The BIG problem with ALL religions is that they have got some bits of
truth in them. BUT NOT A LOT. So best dump them all and start looking
for yourself. In so doing you might find your SELF. And in so doing you
will simultaneously know from whence it comes. THEN you will know.  The
only problem then is that you have to USE it. But you cannot know this
by way of men and books. Hearing OF IT is not knowing it. And if you
only hear it then you can DOUBT IT. (and rightly so) But you cannot
doubt it when you KNOW IT.



Tell you a funny thing that you may never have considered. Have you ever
thought of music as being a war?  Sounds daft doesn't it. But it is
a war of trying to bring something OUT of SILENCE. Trying to SAY
something that needs to be said.  So, it is a  war against SILENCE.  Why
do you weep at a good song or a good piece of music? Or even a good
story or a good movie?  Something is reaching you isn't it. And it
works. Were it not done then it would remain in SILENCE. Where I come
from it is VERY SILENT. I brought something out from there. So will you.
THAT which is needed here. From Eternity for this Purpose. Before you
say that we are self sufficient, then know that SELF of yours which
exists in Eternity. For you are based upon it.  You will get a fuller
picture then. From SILENCE I came. And to it I must now return. Have a
good and worthwhile journey. Life here can be grand if they let it be.
So, LET IT BE. It isn't hard. Even a kid can do it. And even in the
midst of war.



Dick Richardson






[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

For many people  it is a simple goal that  allows them to  succede. For the
religous it is  get to paridise and be with god. For business people it is the
bottom line. I have never considered  religous or business people to be 
exceptionately bright. Most are average joes who work hard on their goals. Now
getting to heaven is pretty nebulous just as is the concept of god. I guess they
just pray harder and that sets them apart.
The business types cheat. They overcharge their customers,cheat on their taxes 
and cheat on their wives at the club. It is all within their goal and they need
constant supervision. How many times have I heard them say"It`s just business"
when they  mess up someones life. More than once I have answered that statement
with a right cross to the jaw. It hurt my hand but I still felt better. I have
only hit one priest   but he tried to molest me. I knew I had a free shot as he
was a known molester and I earned points  with many for that punch.
A more examined, more complex life does not rely on simplicities. I think the
higher level person operates on many planes and uses many skill sets. That is
why the man for all seasons is becomming most rare. There is too much to know 
and the knowledge base just keeps expanding.How long a person can stay on the
top of a highly specialised nitche is seldom known. Technology wipes people out
every day but it sets others at the top every day. So much is chance and  short
lived opportunity and picking  a lifes work  is a maze of unknowns .I think
moving through life is a never ending set of challenges.Some are pleasant but
many are onerous as hell. Bill