The Nobel Prize awardees in physics, beyond doubt, proved that the physical world is one big ocean of energy that materializes and dematerializes in a split second, over and over again… Nothing is solid. This is the world of quantum physics. They proved that thoughts are responsible for holding this ever changing energy field together…
As a kid I was quiet, withdrawn, and mostly an observer not particularly liking what I saw taking place in my immediate family. Actually, life with mom, pop and my nasty sister was a totally dysfunctional mess. For all intent and purposes I feel I could have been raised by wolves.
I like to say that when I was grown high enough to reach the door knob of our small apartment I was out and gone, escaping into the magical kingdom of the projects, and that is pretty much what happened.
The Mellet Homes housing project was built smack dab in the middle of Ozzie and Harriet’s middle class America by the U.S. government to house the influx of workers needed to man the local factories and steel mills gone full bore into the war effort. Each barracks type building, containing six small apartments, was packed closely together onto a thirty five or so acre tract of land.
It was a noisy place full of clothes lines, screaming kids, crying babies, and cars. A distinct perimeter existed between ‘us’ poor folks and ‘them’ rich folks. We even had our own school for awhile cause they wanted to keep us riff-raff segregated from Harriet’s little darlings.
I can only imagine how happy she was to see a slum arising in the midst of her beloved neighborhood, but what the hell, the war was on and everybody had to sacrifice a bit for the cause. Ozzie went off to kill Germans while Harriet stayed home and tended her victory garden. And when the vegetables were ripe, project kids stole and ate them.
The project was a great place to grow up. We played Cowboys and Indians with enough kids to field two armies. We played War and Kick the Can well into the night without the thought of perverts or gun slingers. We played football, baseball, basketball. We fought bare knuckled when we were mad, boxed with the gloves on when we weren’t. We wrestled in the mud in the rain. We played doctor with the girls in the woods by day and used their cover by night as a staging area for vandal raids onto Ozzie and Harriet’s turf.
We lived under a pecking order where everybody knew their place. If we messed with the older kids we got beat up. All the adults looked out for us and didn’t mind giving us a slap when we deserved it either.
There were no knives, guns, drugs or any of that stuff. The men would occasionally get drunk and get into fist fights, but no one ever got killed. The women would get into shouting matches sometimes, but all that noise just added a minor chord that made the melody all the more interesting.
Nobody got much for Christmas in the projects, so we would get up Christmas morning, see what we got and go around to all our friends places to barter and exchange until we ended up with something we wanted. ( I’m sure Tommy always kept his pair of socks) Man, we had it all and were living the dream. We were happy cause nobody ever told us how poor we were.
The projects was always a bee hive of activity. I remember when the ice man would deliver large blocks of ice by hand to feed our refrigerator.
I remember the rag man with his cart walking down the street yelling, “Rag man!…….Rag man!” and people would come to buy a clean one or drop their dirty rags in his cart.
I remember when the milk man would come and deliver milk. Us kids would steal orange drink out of the ice bin in the back of his truck while he did it. We’d also ride our bikes alongside a pop truck and help ourselves to a Coke when ever we saw it coming. He’d stop and yell, but he could never catch us.
Nobody had a TV in those days so we used to listen to movies on the radio. Amos and Andy was my favorite, and who could forget The Shadow. When TV came out there was only one family in the whole projects who could afford one. Us kids would gather quietly around their living room window after dark while old man Bear and his wife sat on the couch on the inside, and watch our favorite show Lights Out with them. Wonder if they knew we were even there? Can you imagine that happening today? We would have set off an alarm the minute we bent a blade of his fake grass in today’s world.
I think I was about nine when mom finally bought me a TV. I still remember coming home one evening from the YMCA (where I practically lived) and seeing Sgt. Preston of the Royal Canadian Police playing in my living room . . . WOW one of the happiest days in my life to that point.
In the projects the walls were so thin that if the guy next door sneezed you could hear it. We had these medicine cabinets in the bath room with a slot in them where you dropped razor blades after they were used up. Well, if you looked into the slot and the person in the other apartment had their cabinet door open you could see into their bathroom. Robyn, my girl friend, would accidentally on purpose leave her door open when she took a bath. I would turn out the light on my side and open the door to watch her. Really exciting voyeurism for a guy my age. Ha! I still remember that stuff . . .Robyn I still love you, wherever you are!
I moved from the projects one cold, windy day in the winter of 1957 with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was forced to leave Berry Davis, the love of my life, and my many friends. I was a very unhappy camper when my mom got remarried and forced me to move. The one place where I could feel at home in those days was in the projects among my friends.
The projects were in existence until 1965 or so when they were torn down to make room for a shopping center and a parking lot. The new Walmart now sits directly on top of the spot where I once lived, kinda poetic justice I suppose since I had practically made a career out of stealing from those kind of stores. In the end we all lose. I lost big time the day my mom made me leave the projects and move onto Ozzie and Harriet’s turf.
I watched the video . . . it’s such a mixture of Bernay’s PR that it is IMO just another advertisement promoting the biblical concept that God covers man – man covers woman theory . . . fact is men ARE physically stronger (in most cases) Men ARE the dominate of the human species because of it. . . but when it comes to intelligence/artistic/ inventive, etc. . . . that is bullshit to the max. . . .
All we need to do is look around at today’s world and see what male dominance has accomplished and it is easier to read than a child’s primmer that the man mentality is floundering. . . fact is we men need to drop the God ordained bullshit and allow the playing field to level because if we don’t . . . (my prediction)
One day in the future after the macho economic/physical wars are over and the planet is in shambles the time of the woman will come and we men will be relegated to sperm donors and physical laborers in a brand new world run by woman . . .
Because I have learned in my life never to underestimate women hood . . . we stumble over our own pecker every time we do . . . they got us by the balls boys and we better start playing fair or else.
Love is the singularity . . . it (God) exists outside the boundaries of duality, therefore there is no good or bad love, it IS the single focal point of all matter, it is the reality behind all creative process. . . . We, (the creators in this physical dimension) though connected to the singularity, build our corporate, as well as individual lives exclusively within the law of duality and get to experience first hand the reality of our creations . . . how are we doing?
We can drop all the spiritual jargon and judge our own creating by the simple approach of lining our creation(s) up against the law of love. Ask ourselves as a person a few simple questions like:
“Am I being kind and generous or am I being a self serving asshole?” . . .
“Do I continually and constantly blame others for my shortcomings?” . . .
“Do I really care or is this a good ploy to get my own way again?” . . .
Ask ourselves corporately as a part of the larger whole a few simple questions like:
“Is it even possible to kill for peace?”
“Is factory farming really worth it?”
“Are we really caretakers of this planet or is this massive ecological destruction we are causing just the result of good business practice?”
Those questions are just an example. Ask yourself your own questions, meditate upon them and you will learn quite easily if you are, or are not, moving in love, mercy, and grace.
You may learn WHY you have acquired so much karmic debt . . . and WHY you are always behind the proverbial eight ball.
Maybe if you quit justifying your eating, and thinking, and doing habits and take positive action instead to put an end to them . . . maybe the depression will withdraw and the fibromyalgia will go away and your joy as well as your health will return.
Can’t hurt to try . . . right?
I wonder how many people realize that their entire lives are built upon a foundation of fantasy? Mine was, and in many ways still is. To this day I find myself treading upon a fantasized hero’s journey. Whether animal, environmental, or spiritual . . . I’m still in the business of trying to save things.
Many of you reading this might ask. “Fantasy? What the hell is this guy talking about? I live and breath reality. I never fantasize about anything because I’m too busy dealing with reality!”
Question: “If that is true, if you are truly living in reality, why is your reality not the same as mine? I mean doesn’t two – three – three thousand different realities mean that everybody but you is living in fantasy? I mean if there is more than one reality SOMEBODY’S gotta be fantasizing . . . right?”
As I pondered this fantasy dilemma I began to see that there is only one foundation to all reality . . . and that foundation is LOVE. Since ‘love’ is probably the most misinterpreted and misused word in the English language we probably ought to dwell on that first lest we build yet another castle in the sand. . . . so, what is love?
Too many people these days see love only as (Eros) the emotion that leads to some kind of an action centered in romantic intercourse of one sort or another.
Others broaden the word a bit to include the second deeper (Philia or brotherly love) that includes friendships and family as well as romance.
A few completely open the word to include (Eros) the love that supersedes all others. That’s the point where love is no longer an emotion, but a state of being . . . the place where all judgement and human actions are based upon the principles of love. Eros, the ultimate, breaks the law of duality and is the only pathway to the goal of activating our higher conscience. So far, very few have entered that realm and that is why the planet is in such dire shape. . . . and why nothing changes until we change. As we are now in our development, fantasy rules and we are more virus to this Earth than caretaker.
As an example: When I was a kid in the projects I was raised on John Wayne and Hollywood movie fantasy where the Japs and Germans were pure evil and America was the greatest country in the world. In school I placed my hand over my heart every morning before class began and pledged my allegiance to her. I fantasized that one day when I got older, I would carry a gun myself and fight the bad guys in her defense just like John Wayne did. I’ve always wanted to be a hero and go down in a blaze of glory fighting for truth, justice, and the American way.
Most of my buddies in the projects shared that fantasy with me and years later some of them died horrible deaths in that far away jungle because of it. Their kids are still dying by fire in places like Iraq and Afghanistan . . . for what? Some dipshit and his hegemonic fantasies?
This fantasy that war is noble, the field of battle glorious, and our enemy is some kind of two dimensional creature has led untold millions across the world to a sudden and pain filled death. If the truth ever overshadows that fantasy we may have a chance to evolve beyond the necessity for war, but as is, today we seem to be beating the battle drums more loudly than ever before in this quest to “make America great again” when a quick and honest study of our past history proves we were really never that great in the first place.
That is only one example of a culture steeped in one religious/racial/societal/ fantasy after another, there are many more. These fantasies are what is dividing us and breaking us just like they did to all the other empires before us.
So the question I have to ask myself when I consider where we, as a nation, are going is this . . . ‘Are we moving and creating upon a foundation of love, mercy, and grace, or not?’ If not then we can pray and roll around on the floor of our churches all we want . . . nothing happens until we do.