writing

Break The Matrix (Chapter Two)

Choke Points

Although this writing may at first sound like just another expose of conspiracies, I can assure you it is not. Yes, the globalists are guilty of fomenting many dark conspiracies on their way to the top, but they are proud of what they are doing and openly admit to doing it. They see themselves and their one world government as the only hope for mankind and believe completely in the philosophy that ‘the end justifies the means’. . . that means they are willing to do whatever it takes to further their agenda to have total control and domination over us. If these are conspiracies, they are being fomented in broad daylight. (more…)

Break The Matrix (introduction)

  Introduction

While we live this earth is our place. If there is a Heaven it will
be here. If there is a Hell it will be here. Poisoned or perfect . . .
it is up to us.

I do not pretend to know what awaits us on the other side of
this life, but I am convinced we have been created on this
planet at this time to care for and help restore her delicate
balance. At the present time we are not living up to that calling
and are about to face a full frontal environmental breakdown.

(more…)

Break The Matrix(Chapter One)

Mental Conditioning

I wonder if any of those guys in the matrix who decided to save the world from communism, even considered what long lasting effects Agent Orange would have on the countries of Vietnam and Cambodia during their American war. Or how many
millions upon millions of life forms our planes would destroy while carpet bombing the Laotian Plain of Jars.

I wonder if they even cared that they not only killed 58,000 of our own, but an estimated 1 to 3 million peasants and soldiers who farmed or fought or merely lived there. I wonder what Henry Kissinger (a long time member of the matrix) thought as he was lolly gagging his way to a cease fire in Paris. (more…)

Suicide

imagine

Reading a lot about suicide lately I began to wonder, instead of Anthony Bourdain, what it would take for me to do the deed, because at one time in my youth I could have. When I was younger (in the late 60’s) I went through a time when I thought it would be a good idea to off myself, but then I ran away from my problem and got stoned for a couple of years instead.

When I got older I realized that the suicidal thoughts began because I had expected too much from this decidedly fractured society. I was too good for this place and I was drowning in a huge portion of self pity and self righteousness.

I had the strong belief in America and the people who ran it . . . false deduction #1.

I had a strong belief that my marriage was ordained by God and my ex and I were solidly behind one another . . . false deduction #2.

I believed that I was a tough guy who could handle anything . . . false deduction #3.

I wanted to kill myself and make a statement to everybody for taking me for granted. This act would teach them all a good lesson. . . false deduction #4

I wanted to kill myself because I thought I had reached the end of my rope and had nowhere else to turn .  . . wrong deduction #5

One day after a strong psychedelic experience, after a ‘coming to Jesus’ experience, after dropping all that religious stuff and having a ‘coming to Jim’ experience . . . I began to see our lives here on this dimension had never been created for our ease or our prosperity . . . we were here to learn and to experience as much as possible during our short stay upon these shores.

I learned that karma rules the affairs of men and as I give I will receive. No longer looking for love, I began to see how necessary it was to share to the best of my ability the love that I have within myself with others.

I learned that I was responsible for my actions and if I found myself behind the eightball, chances were I had placed myself there. I quit being a victim and worked towards being a warrior . . . not as I did earlier in my life, but in a spiritual sense. Not in over the top religion, but by quietly following the pathway called kindness. Not by making a spectacle of myself in any direction, but by being there for anyone who crossed my path. (regardless of race, color or creed).

Today as an old man I see nothing but chaos surrounding me in every direction and I seldom leave the confines of my front porch . . . but if anybody comes by I will sit and talk with them, give them a beer or a cup coffee and listen to their complaints without judgement or preachy direction. . . and that old lady who just smacked me in the ass with her grocery cart? I will spin around and give her a smile (though a bit disingenuous)

Today life is great and suicide is far from my mind because I know this life has never been meant to be a rose garden, . . . it’s a battlefield brother, not a recreation room. It’s a fight and not a game. When I fall down, I’m gonna get up because I didn’t start out to play . . . I think we need to learn that.

 

Open Your Heart . . .

OpenHeart

Everybody at some time in their life has a moment of truth, a life changing experience where they begin to see things differently than before it happened. Sometimes it is a huge catastrophic event, while others it may result from the simplest of things.

I have had a few monster awakenings in my rather chaotic life, but the following is way strange for a guy like me, at least for the guy that I perhaps pretended to be. . . .

***
(more…)

A Hippy Thanksgiving

hippy thanksgiving

Well here it is again for the 74th time. The kids who can make it will be coming down with their wives, a couple of friends from town are also coming, and the only neighbors we have may stop in later for a drink. All in all it will be fairly quiet and traditional. I know my pit bull will hate it because she will have to be caged up all day and I, being the loner, will endure and enjoy this holiday all at the same time.

Fact is, though I am totally content with my present life, things are not the same for me as they used to be back in the day when we were tip toeing through the tulips dreaming about making the world a better place. Back when the music never stopped, till the day it died . . . Bye, bye, Miss American Pie . . .

This morning I got to thinking about Thanksgiving and the best one I ever experienced, when it was and who I was with . . . that sort of thing. Following is the true story of the best Thanksgiving I ever had.

It was about 1969. I was living in a walk up pad in Portland, Oregon, just one more run away hippie looking for a spark of reality and thinking I could find it by denouncing all that my parents generation stood for. I had just left the military, the following  short but bad marriage, and was hiding out from all the heavy emotion that went with them. Of course I was kidding myself as to the fact that I could actually do it.

It was Thanksgiving morning, and in my mind I didn’t have anything to be thankful about. I was alone and depressed. As I walked through the old neighborhood I was more alone still. The usual hustle was not there, even the drug dealers seemed to have taken the day off. I was walking, but going nowhere. . . . just walking.

There was a music store a few blocks down Burnside and I was heading in that direction, probably to stare into the window at the old Martin I would have given my last dollar for, had I actually had one.

As I walked along the empty street a Volkswagen van passed me by. It was full of freaks just like me. (in those days being a freak was cool) They pulled up in front of the music store and the guy behind the wheel who must have been the owner jumped out and walked to the door, unlocked it, went in, and came right back out again. Once in the van he turned it around and came back in my direction.

The van stopped in front of me and a girl on the passenger side rolled down her window, smiled and asked, “Hey man where you going?”

“Nowhere”

“Wanna come to a party?”

“Sure” I said perking up a bit.

The van door slid open, “Hop in!” she said. I hopped in and away we went. Everybody in the van was in a very upbeat mood. “We’re having a far out dinner party for a bunch of people and you’re invited!” she said as she turned in her seat and faced me.

“Wow man, yeah man, thanks for stopping, that would be so cool.” I answered. The day that began as a huge bummer had suddenly become a life giving adventure because that little lady thought it would be cool to pick me up and take me to her party.

A couple minutes later we pulled up to one of the old Victorian homes that dotted the SW Portland neighborhoods at the time and parked. The van unloaded. We all walked up the concrete steps and entered the magical atmosphere of a house turned hippie haven.

There were couches, stuffed chairs, funky second hand furnishings, door beads, and brightly dressed people everywhere. Music played. People, laid back and relaxed, laughed effortlessly. ‘no canned laughter here’ What a lovely place to be. There were no introductions, no embarrassing ‘trying to say the right things,’ I merely walked into the large living room, found an empty place on the couch and sat down. The guy who was already sitting there said to me, “ Hey brother, how you doing?”

“Great man, just great.”

Using half sentences, chopped up wording and a lingo from Mars, off we went on a discussion encompassing so many variables that I can’t describe . . . ‘the kind of stuff people say when they are flaunting the norm and trying to be real I suppose.’

Anyways, we were talking away when a girl entered the living room from another room. She stopped close to us, pulled her long blond hair across her face and began to comb it. As I glanced up, all I could see was one gorgeous blue eye staring back at me. I was instantly attracted to her.

She must have just arrived because she was still wrapped in an old 30’s style fur coat that reached almost to the floor. She took the coat off, dropped it on the back of the couch and sat down beside me to complete the job of combing her hair.

Once finished, her face turned my way. “Hi,” she said. I don’t know what I said . . . the power in those bright blue eyes had tied up my tongue and caused my heart to bleed.

I quickly regained my composure and we talked. We laughed. We smoked a joint together. We shared our intimate details . . . all before dinner.

The girls soon called from the dining room and we all (about 25 of us) went in and sat around a huge rigged up concoction of tables and benches all loaded with food and closely spaced bottles of wine.

Nobody prayed or did any of the traditional stuff. Someone said something nice and we dug in. For a brief moment in time we became the kings and queens of the world enjoying the greatest feast many of us would ever remember having.

After we ate and were all stuffed and laying around like a pack of wolves who had just devoured a moose, the joints came out and passed around one more time. Many of us just passed out.

The blond ended up alongside me on a couch. We kissed and snuggled and fell asleep in each others arms. I don’t remember how or when I got back to my pad, but I do remember the blue eyed blond and the two month love fest we had following Thanksgiving Day.

But like all things in those days, our love was fast, furious, and burned out just as fast as it had started when she went to Hawaii and disappeared from my life forever. She was my angel and I loved her dearly and I will never forget . . . whats-her-name.

Know Your Enemy

It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not know your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle. . . . Sun Tzu

The above quote was taken from Sun Tzu’s treatise, The Art of War. This well proven book has, for the last 2500 years, been considered the fighting manual of choice by military men throughout the world. A list of it’s readers would contain the names of Patton, MacArthur, Stalin, Mao Zedong, so forth. Vo Nguyen Giap used it’s knowledge to defeat both the French and the Americans in Vietnam. It’s concepts are being taught even today at the American War College.

The Art of War contains the final answer to those caught in a David and Goliath moment where the enemy is far larger and far more powerful than their fledging resistance. It’s worked before, it will work again as we take on the gas industry and their minions in Congress and the State legislatures.

I am reminded at times like these, when the odds are so overwhelming, how those little brown men in Vietnam kept moving supplies along the Ho Chi Minh trail, in spite of the millions of tons of bombs the US threw at them. They trucked that trail carrying heavy loads on their backs, riding bikes, pulling carts, enduring heat, insects, hunger . . . anything to get the supplies to their soldiers fighting in the South.

No matter how hard the Americans tried, they could not stop them. No matter how many bombs the Americans dropped, they could not stop them. They NEVER quit coming . . . until finally the Americans gave up and went home defeated, not by a standing army in the field, but by the resolve of the people themselves who gave their lives by the hundreds of thousands in order to obtain freedom from those who sought to own her. They never quit!

So, for those of us who have chosen to oppose the gas companies in their quest to move quickly and destructively against our properties and our lives, it behooves us to take a bit of time to read Sun Tzu and understand some his tactics before diving into an action that will end only in futility and emotional stress. We need to get to know our enemy as well as ourselves.

So who is this giant in our land? What are his goals? His motivations? His fears? What kind of energy fuels his mind and causes him to function? All these things are important to know in order to defeat him.

Ask yourself the same set of questions. What are your goals, motivations, and fears? Sun Tzu said you must know yourself as well as the enemy if you have any hope of defeating him. Are you up to the task? Or are you just a “cause” groupy who enjoys going to demonstrations and stuff. If so, I can assure you there were no groupies along the Ho Chi Minh Trail.

First of all, when it comes to an enemy, you must respect him. He is smart, maybe smarter than you. He can hurt you far less if you do not take the easy route by demonizing him, or belittling him. This only gives him an advantage.

In this instance the gas industry is the enemy, but this enemy is in reality made of individual people much the same as you and me. They are not devils, nor do they enjoy eating children. They may merely be blind men in need of a good sight adjustment.

Try to understand where he is coming from, and why he feels as he does. See him not so much an ignoramus, but someone who has been molded by our capitalistic society into a good soldier for the cause. A soldier who can see no further beyond himself than the feet of the soldier climbing the corporate ladder above him. Where is he going? Well, actually he doesn’t know, he just knows he needs to keep climbing.

What motivates him? Well, there are what I call the ‘three P’s’ that seemingly motivate all these type A personalities. The quest for Power . . . Position . . . and Possession. That’s it, that’s all they see… Me . . . Me . . . and Me.

If it were possible to sit these guys down and suck all that stuff out of their heads, they may see the reality and beauty of the ‘oneness’ in this ecosystem that we share with the rest of creation. We may be caretakers of it, but it does not belong to us. We did not create it and in spite of all our touted advances in technology, we have yet to learn how to even put out a good weather report.

If it were possible to prove to them how easily we can ruin the whole thing, they may take a second look and stop this mad dash for the most cash that’s ruining our water, and even the air we breathe. They may come up with a different answer to the question: ‘What’s the most important, water, air, or gas?”

So how do we go about fighting these dudes? What are their greatest strengths? Well, let’s see . . . they own the state legislature, they own the governor, they own most of the capitol, they own the courts. So wow, how dumb is it going to be fighting them on their own turf? If that’s the best we can come up with, we really ought to quit and sign the lease ourselves.

Now, this political avenue could be a side street, of course, because ultimately all this will have to be decided by the courts as they’re the guys who enforce the law, and isn’t that what we all want? Good, honest law that takes into account the needs of the landowner as well as the gas company?

Even though money has, for now, decidedly turned the political head, its been proven time and again that these Congressional hacks will duck and cover as soon as the light of day rests upon their sorry heads.

Look at the movie Gasland and what a giant headache it is causing for the gas industry. That’s just one movie. THAT is a point of FEAR for these guys. Make more movies.

It’s up to us to document and prove what is taking place upon our land. They will fight us tooth and nail using lies, innuendo, anything to divert the reality of the facts we bring forth. We MUST document . . . and a good ‘before and after’ video is in my opinion, a preferred weapon of choice.

I would even recommend recording the salesman when he makes the pitch and videotaping everything that takes place after that. It may save you a lot of grief later.

If your enemy owns the night, draw him into the day.

If he owns the jungle, meet him on the prairie.

When it comes to these gas corporations the only thing they don’t yet own is us. Our turf is what they want, so wouldn’t that be the place to fight them? On our own turf, bearing the weapons we choose, and following the gorilla tactics of our choosing also?

This is the point of contact. This is where the victory lies. This is the place where the haves meet the have nots. . . . AND the place we own.

In order to draw the gas out of the shale they need us to sign their contract, it’s that simple. No contract, no gas. The fight doesn’t begin after our water is ruined. The fight begins when that salesman sits down at our kitchen table and begins to unload his box of promises on us. How many of us already signed the company contract? How many have had it looked at by their lawyer? I know some who haven’t.

Why would anybody allow some clown to come into their house with a company sided contract, and sign it without a thorough going over by a lawyer is beyond me. I know honest people have this thing about them that says all other people are honest, especially if they have just received an offer they couldn’t refuse, but damn, man, these waters are FULL of sharks.

We need to teach our people that when they quickly sign the contract they are paying a steep price for their greed and ignorance. We need to have them watch some of these videos like Gasland and be informed and fully aware BEFORE they make the decision to give up the family farm.

We need to be able to prove what will happen to them by using one example after another, of something that has already happened. We need to convince our people that if it sounds too good to be true, the fact is it probably is.

We need to convince them that we are not advocating complete withdrawal of the gas companies and their armies of drill teams. We only need the industry to stand down long enough to answer these problems with pollution and straighten them out before they restart their drilling machine.

We need to convince the industry that we need gas for heat as much as they need to dig it up. We are not against drilling. We are against the crazy way they are going about it.

We want safety for our cattle, for our children and for ourselves, not just the pile of bullshit they are currently tossing on our kitchen tables. If they want to partner up with us, let’s do it fair and square. Put it all on the table and dispense with the rhetorical PR. It may be beneficial to all of us.

What they are doing now, in all their arrogance, is offering nothing more than a train wreck that will ultimately destroy them as well as us. Power, Position and Possession, is their common goal . . . BUT WE own the Power. We own the Position. We own the Possession. They don’t own any of it, they just want to take ours. We are not the beggars here, they are.

Bottom line is that we must slow down the gas rush and make it more eco friendly. If that is impossible to do, drop the whole thing until it is.

Jim Walters

In Absentia

Love is not a thing you do
It’s something that you wear
Thrilling when newly purchased
Comfortable once worn thread bare

This morning I donned my clothes
And walked to the beach
In search of a gift from the sea.
A memento for you.

As I stood watching the sun break the horizon
In awesome glory
I thought of you standing beside me.
But you weren’t.

Within the beauty of that moment
I stood alone
And realized how empty
And naked I am
Without your love to clothe me.

Il bel far niente

In Italy they have a saying, “Il bel far niente,” it means “The beauty of doing nothing.”

What a lovely country that must be. I can quite easily see myself fitting into a society that sees beauty in doing nothing, as that has always been my goal . . . to get to the point where I can sit on my butt doing nothing more than just thinking and enjoying myself.

I used to tell my mom when she would call and ask, “what are you doing today?”

“Nothing mom, today’s a do-nothing day.”

“What? Jimmy I worry about you!”

She always got a good chuckle out of my do-nothing days because who in America can say with a straight face that they are having a do-nothing day? In America you must be busy. You must be doing something or you are deemed lazy and unimportant.

In America a slacker gets absolutely no respect, he might as well be a skid row bum. “Doing nothing? What are you crazy? Get busy doing something for Christ’s sake. Idle hands are the devils playground!” Well, I believe if a guy took the time to actually think about that statement he would see for himself how many holes there actually were in the ‘busy bucket’.

So, what is a do-nothing day anyways?

Well in Italy I’m not sure, but I’m willing to bet in every country on this planet, the meaning is pretty much the same. It is simply just doing nothing. No work. No travel. No outside entertainment. Nothing but simply ‘being’ in the moment. Maybe sleeping . . . eating . . . having sex . . . or something like that or maybe just sitting on a chair in the sun thinking beautiful thoughts. Actually I’ve done all these things on my do-nothing days. The only solid rule to a do-nothing day that I can think of, is to enjoy yourself doing what YOU want to do.

In Italy I can visualize a guy sitting along a boulevard somewhere at a table in front of a quaint restaurant enjoying a cup of cappuccino while watching the beautiful Italian women walking by.

In America it’s really hard to find a quaint cafe, let alone one that has a nice outside dining area lining the sidewalks like they do in Europe. In America it’s all cars and the stink of exhaust. Here we are in way too much of a hurry to take a leisure cup of coffee anywhere. Besides, coffee drinkers take up too much valuable eating space. “If you are not going to eat, drink up and get the hell out . . . MOVE dammit! We have paying customers in line waiting for your table!

So, in America, it’s probably a good idea to take your do-nothing day either at home or walking in the woods somewhere. If you go to the Mall you should at least be walking somewhere, because well, this country just isn’t set up for doing nothing. It’s considered sin to be idle. People take one look at you sitting there enjoying yourself, all by yourself, and immediately they think, what a lazy man he is, sitting there all alone doing nothing.

A professional do-nothinger knows this going in, so he either creates an attitude that tells the world to go pound nails or he pretends that he’s really quite busy and just on a break. He’ll do little things like glance at his watch with much flare or look around as if he is waiting for someone, or nosily drum his fingers upon the table top.

That’s another thing in America, you are really not supposed to be sitting at a table in a restaurant all alone, especially if you are a woman. You are supposed to be with others, laughing and telling jokes or having a power lunch of some sort. Just sitting there by yourself? Sad.

It’s pitiful as well for others to see a man sitting there all alone, especially if he gets caught eying the girls (something quite expected in Italy) Shame on you, you lazy, laggard pervert, no wonder you have no friends.

Regardless, since my new found knowledge, it’s now easier on my conscience to enjoy the beauty of the day doing nothing knowing there are a zillion Italians across the water doing the very same thing.