by nielskunze on July 30, 2014
by The Anarchist
Jeanie had been granting wishes for… well, ever, it seemed. For ages and ages she’d doled out the heart desires of deserving patrons in neat little packets of three. Why always three? Tradition. Beyond that, Jeanie didn’t know. People expected it– once they got past the initial skepticism of wishes being real at all.
And how was deservability awarded? In the old days, it had simply been a matter of rubbing the lamp which Jeanie had called home and… voila. But Jeanie had fled the turmoil in the Middle East long ago and had subsequently ditched the lamp. People just weren’t interested in oil lamps in the West anymore, and Jeanie got easily bored waiting between rubs anyway.
So now it was just the rubbing that did the trick; no lamps involved. Being a magical creature and all, Jeanie was generally considered to be quite attractive. There were many– men and women alike– who wanted nothing more than to ‘give Jeanie a rub.’ Those who rubbed Jeanie the wrong way… well, they were just politely asked to move along. But those who got the rub just right– in a multiple-orgasm kind-of-way– were reciprocated with the proverbial three wishes.
“You’re kidding, right?” panted Sam breathlessly. “Three wishes? Really?” He was still caught in the inertia of the aforementioned initial skepticism. Jeanie nodded in what must have been a very convincing and sincere way as Sam exclaimed “Awesome!”
Sam was very unlike the others, noted Jeanie after they got dressed. He wasn’t nearly as impulsive or wishy-washy with his deliberations. He was careful and methodical– after the inevitable inquiry about being able to wish for more wishes. No, for the last time people, you can’t wish for more wishes. It’s practically the only rule of wishery– that, and the stipulation that you can’t wish for things that would require permanent alterations to the basic laws of physics. But other than that… the field was pretty much wide open.
“Even if my wish is really complicated?” asked Sam. Jeanie answered the question with a dismissive wave of her hand. Whatever. This is magic. Go for it.
“Okay…” began Sam, digging his mental fingers into the strange wish unfolding in his mind. He was searching for the best way to unpack the complexity of what really should have been a simple thing– something that should have been the way of things already long ago… in a common-sense world. “Okay, I wish that all of the governments in the world who are operating as publicly declared democracies would have absolutely transparent fiscal accounting.”
Jeanie looked at Sam like he might’ve just stepped out of a polka-dotted spaceship. This was certainly not the usual shiny new car, sprawling mansion, or even the fanciest thingamajig with full accessory kit and the expandable attachment. “And how exactly would that look?” asked Jeanie genuinely puzzled.
“Well,” explained Sam, “it would have to be online, on the internet. Every government already has a website, so that should make it easy.” He was still trying to sell it to Jeanie… or maybe just to himself. “It should be a straightforward accounting of all the money coming into government coffers on the one hand. You know, from things like income tax, sales tax, licenses, registrations, fees and such. And on the other hand there would be a full transparent accounting of where all the funds are being allocated. They wouldn’t have to disclose an itemized list for things having to do with national security though. They could just give a lump sum figure going to various secret projects without having to reveal exactly what those projects were… but at least we’d know how much… and how it relates to everything else… proportionally… you know.”
Jeanie closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples. When she finally let go of a big sigh, Sam realized that this was not yet the procedure for wish-fulfillment. He continued to unpack and unfold the wish to make it more plain to the magical creature before him. “There would have to be some explication of the number of businesses forwarding sales tax and an annual resultant sum. Or for income tax, for instance, there would likewise have to be given the number of citizens paying income tax, the number of citizens receiving refunds, and the total amount of revenue generated as a net aggregate. And of course the amount received should ultimately balance with the amount being allocated to all governmental programs and expenses…”
Jeanie held up a hand and sighed again. “I get it,” she said. “You weren’t kidding about the complicated thing, were you?” The question was rhetorical.
“So can you do it?” asked Sam
Jeanie, like any self-respecting genie, was well practiced in giving looks of utter condescension. The sudden fierceness in her eyes said unmistakably “Fuck yeah.”
Cars and houses and bright shiny baubles were instantaneous things. Jeanie could make those materialize without so much as a grunt. Sam’s request, however, required considerably more groundwork. Ideas needed to be seeded in the right minds… and certain blockages needed to be removed from other minds. But the idea was actually pretty sound, and truth be told, Jeanie was glad for the challenge and the change of pace.
A moment later she said “It’s done.” Sam walked immediately over to the computer on his desk as though he wanted to check straight away, but Jeanie explained further. “A complex wish like this takes time to actually manifest– fully, but rest assured that it will happen. And for your second wish…?”
Sam hummed and hawed without actually knowing what the heck hawing was. “I’d rather see how this one turns out before I get to my second wish… if you don’t mind.”
Jeanie found that to be mildly insulting but relented since Sam was really exceptionally good at rubbing her just the right way. She was in no real hurry to move on.
Within a few short weeks it was becoming quite clear to Sam that his wish was unfolding exactly as he had foreseen. Governments the world over– whether small local municipalities or mammoth federations– were suddenly committed to making all of their financial maneuvers perfectly transparent. It was like it became a competition among them– who could be the most transparent. The public was finally able to see in simple stark terms how public monies were being spent. Everyone wondered how no one had thought of such a common sense thing before, but then shrugged and accepted that it was indeed a welcome improvement to the former fiscal shenanigans shrouded in secrecy.
“I’m ready for my second wish,” said Sam one day thereafter. Jeanie squinted her eyes in consternation– the kind of tight squint that would allow her to be blindfolded with a piece of dental floss if need be. It was a look which clearly said “Now what?”
“It’s complicated,” warned Sam again. Jeanie sighed… and then Sam sighed before continuing. “I get so frustrated with all of the lying,” he began, “in politics mostly.” Now Jeanie opened her eyes wide and gave them a good roll. “It’s supposed to be the job of the press to keep the fuckers honest, but journalism is hardly anything more than the propaganda wing of the government these days. ‘According to anonymous intelligence sources…’ anything can follow that statement, and it can’t possibly be verified.”
“And what would you suggest might remedy the situation?”
“There has to be some standard for truth in journalism. Everybody gets the news from a million different sources these days, and many of those sources report wildly differing facts, theories and angles. Clearly, they’re not all correct. Some of them… many of them… perhaps all of them… are lying. And what really drives me nuts is when a particular news outlet reports the supposed facts of a breaking story one day and then the very next day many– or even all of the facts– have changed, and there’s absolutely no accounting for the change. They never go back and say ‘Sorry we got this wrong… or, we were misinformed.’ They just change the narrative of what happened as though we’re not even supposed to notice. Drives me nuts!”
“Sam, what’s your wish?”
“I wish there was a global accreditation body holding all journalists and news outlets accountable for what they report. They could rank all of the press outlets from the largest international conglomerates to the tiniest independent bloggers according to how truthful their reporting is. And they would have criminal prosecutory power to lay charges for the most egregious violations. I mean, nations go to war– or not– according to what’s reported in the press. It shouldn’t be that so-called journalists can just fabricate whatever the fuck they want– or what their governments want– in order to sway public opinion. If a journalist is caught in a lie, there has to be serious consequences. The state of journalism today is a total joke as it is!”
Jeanie was beginning to admire Sam. It wasn’t often that wishes needed to be discussed at length. It was fun and interesting for Jeanie. A few concerns came immediately to mind though.
“Who determines the truth of a breaking story? Can’t the accreditation body be bought off by the wealthiest players? And how culpable is a journalist who’s been given false information but accurately reports the lie?”
“The truth eventually wins out,” answered Sam. “The rankings are fluid and dynamic, changing daily as the truth becomes known over time. Whoever’s reporting the truth will be vindicated eventually… and will rise to the top of the list. And the accreditation body has to be absolutely transparent. It has to be clear to everybody why one news agency ranks higher than another… according to a publicly visible record, and it all has to be based on the known truth. The wealthiest players can’t buy a position at the top if there’s no clear justification for such a ranking. And finally, if a journalist is careful to only report that certain facts are presented according to specific sources– and those facts later prove to be untrue– the sources can be held criminally responsible– if it can be shown that they were knowingly providing false information– but not the journalist who was just honestly reporting what was given in good faith.”
“I get the gist of it,” affirmed Jeanie.
Again, ideas needed to be planted in various specific places and some blockages eased, but Jeanie reminded herself that ‘this ain’t no amateur night!’ And the second wish was granted.
It took some months for the international accreditation bureau to become established and functioning, and then it took several months more for the rankings to attain any real significance within the public mind. But suddenly, the public had a tool for digging into the veracity of any world event. They finally had a starting point for asking “Hey, what’s really going on here?” With the power to prosecute liars criminally, the news was still spun like carnival candy floss, but it contained far less outright bullshit. And over time, even integrity returned to journalism. No… seriously.
In the meantime, Jeanie had to ask Sam about his third and final wish. She asked again and again, but Sam always claimed that he couldn’t think of anything more that he wanted. His first two wishes had already changed everything about the state of the world. “And besides,” he smirked, “as long as I don’t use up the third wish, you’ll stay with me.”
“So is that your third wish then?” she asked coyly. “To have me stay with you?”
“No,” said Sam emphatically, “I don’t want you to stay with me because I wish it. I want you to stay with me because you wish it.”
Jeanie looked out through the window like a queen surveilling her realm. And with a nod she answered “We do make a damn good team.”
And the whole world lived happily ever after.
by nielskunze on July 29, 2014
As the Ancestors are still held within the remains of a crude frequency fence, bold moves among current embodiments set the stage for unprecedented freedom…
(Toccata and Fugue excerpt– Toccata only– by J.S. Bach performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra, conducted by Eugene Ormandy)
I was happily pigging out at my favourite raspberry patch, occasionally swatting at mosquitos, when the unmistakable sensation of fangs sinking into flesh immediately brought my attention to my calf– right above the ankle. It was just a horsefly, but my hurried response failed to properly squish him, so he began circling me in order to make another attempt.
Okay, we’ve danced this dance a thousand times before. I’ll wait for you to land again… and this time I won’t miss. But lo and behold, he didn’t have the chance to land on me again. Instead, I watched him fly right into a spider’s web craftily strung among the raspberry bushes! He struggled and buzzed a moment, but could not free himself.
As I dug out my camera to document his predicament, Spider moved in to secure the bounty.
“The cleanup of the astral planes has begun in earnest,” said Spider. “The archon incursion is being rapidly extruded as we speak.”
“Who are the archons (ankle-biters)?” you may ask. They’re the ones who know exactly how to push our buttons internally. Energetically, they require us to be in a near constant state of turmoil in order to syphon off our unwanted anger, frustration and fear. They are psychic parasites, exposed in the gnostic tradition. They have been with us for a very long time. The beta structure of our waking minds is an archontic intrusion. They overlaid their own predatory mind structure upon all earthly human consciousness. We’ve been operating from this foreign installation ever since– misconstruing our own true nature within minds that are truly not our own.
“As the empire lies exposed and vulnerable in so many places of its own undoing,” continued Spider, “it is finally safe for the White Hats to begin cleaning up this millennial mess. Between Earth and Sun– Sophia and Sabaoth– the intruders are being squeezed out like the puss from a festering zit.
“Imagine that you have been like children in a playground, and your ‘supervisors’ have done everything to pit each of you against each other, whispering lies and provocations at every opportunity. You’ve had little chance to grow up.
“Your maturation now shall be swift and in profound contrast to your troubled childhood. True learning may now begin!”
by nielskunze on July 28, 2014
Please forgive my recent absence here. I stand in the eye of the hurricane… as the playing field is levelled.
(Octopus by Syd Barrett from his 1970 release The Madcap Laughs)
(The story of Syd Barrett and Pink Floyd in the late sixties is a very interesting one… one that you may choose to look into on your own. In 1967, Pink Floyd released their debut album, Piper at the Gates of Dawn, which is a masterpiece of fearless originality… and it’s all Syd.)
Yesterday morning I sat down at the computer at my usual time to write up the Daily Forest Report. And I came up empty! That doesn’t happen to me… ever. My mind was a total blank; I felt a certain emptiness. I couldn’t explain it, and I was powerless to fight it. I closed my laptop, and decided to go about my day.
A few minutes later I received a phone call. The battered voice at the other end of the line was that of my longtime friend and roommate whom I had assumed was sleeping upstairs. The call was from the hospital; he would need a ride home in a few hours, just as soon as he stopped pissing blood. His vehicle was totalled; he’d been in a serious crash. No one else was involved; he was the only injured party… and he’d live. Thank god!
Everything can change in an instant! I keep witnessing it over and over. Lives are being stripped bare. Everyone is getting ample opportunity to re-evaluate their priorities. Where in the past there may have been some wiggle-room, now there is none. Our lives are being mercilessly redefined in the starkest of terms. There is no escape.
All we can do– and always should have done– is to live by principle. We absolutely have to do what’s right in every situation. Our digressions– those moments when we know we’re betraying our principles– are being redrawn in bold lines of dire consequence. We have to heed our own best advice– consistently.
The curtain is falling on the golden age of hypocrisy. It’s getting real– too real.
We’re coming out of the long grass and the weeds, taking stock of our true situation, and preparing to make the daring leap to lives of blissful integrity. Grasshoppers are well armoured for awkward landings; we’re soft and squishy beneath lifetimes of practiced armouring. Our familiar defences are being taken from us. Are we ready to see ourselves naked?
In times of total chaos (transition), it’s good to remind ourselves that we are all truly lucky to be alive!
by nielskunze on July 25, 2014
(Ball of Confusion by Love and Rockets from their 1985 album Seventh Dream of Teenage Heaven)
“Storm clouds gather ominously…”
“…and nary a drop of rain will fall, spelling disaster for some.”
“Dark and clouded skies just prolong the torture of Hope– the very last demon in Pandora’s box. Wedded to televisions and news feeds… and everyone else’s business…”
“…you fill your perceptions with horizons beyond your grasp… and yet, they are able to grip you through the inactions they inspire. Ask yourself: Who are you listening to?”
“Is there anything practical that you can do here and now?”
“Attending to details that don’t pertain to you in any way bolsters your impotence. And that is the lie you keep insisting on telling yourself!”
“I am here, now… perfectly centred in my world… and the wind will blow. And countless others will attend to their own joy so that it may live on for all. Your joy is your greatest gift to the world!”
“Fear is a tight knot in a quantum entangled reality. It denies countless possibilities/opportunities, channelling expectations toward a singular disaster. And the Raspberry blooms and bears fruit. Can you see the bright choices?”
“Spreading yourselves at the very periphery of your awareness and concern like jam is a surefire way to becoming toast! Attend to that which is within your grasp to affect.”
“And then you will hold out so much more than a fleeting ephemeral hope. Nay, these are the fruits and seeds of joy… and they count for everything!”
by nielskunze on July 23, 2014
(Quadrophenia by The Who, title track and “overture” of their 1973 double album classic)
“Scientific tradition has separated the inner world of your experience from the outer world of your observation. This is an arbitrary act of ego.”
“Searching fruitlessly among so ‘many’ trees, the Forest cannot be found… and Bull is quite likely to be encountered!”
“Are you a relativistic identity, or a seamless and undefined presence?”
Now that’s a real chin-scratcher!
“The ego only knows correlates and associations… nothing of absolutes. The correlate of ego in the outer world of observation is the seemingly objectified universe. Ego is equipped to only see its own illusory nature… no matter how well overlaid with logic.”
“Inwardly, ego all but denies the existence of the subconscious or the unconscious collective. Even in its tacit acceptance, ego denies them any real significance.”
“Inner and outer are singular; ask the One… or Dr. Einstein… or Dr. Jung… or your own faceless Presence.”
“There’s no need to continue to endlessly bash your head against that which you know to be incorrect. The insight from persistent errors is extremely limited… and limiting. Lay down the scalpel, and close the dividing eye. As you abide in the heart– for the merest moment– size, contour and definition are emptied of all meaning.
“Where does your heartfield end? It does not!”
“You are that which you encounter… from a unique, unprivileged perspective. And so am I!
“We are mirrors to each other, shattering illusions with myriad deadly shards.”
by nielskunze on July 22, 2014
(Halo of Flies by Alice Cooper from his 1971 album Killer. I had to speed up the turntable to cram an 8:30 long song into about 7:15 as to not exceed the 7 MB limit for embedded audio, so Alice sounds a bit like a chipmunk and his band sounds like they’re enjoying a bit of cocaine.)
We had a celebrity guest on this day– the intrepid Darren whom you may remember from The Amazing Race Canada season one… you know, one half of the BC hippies. Being a curious fellow, Darren urged us further afield this day, deep into bigsquatch and cougar territory.
I don’t often venture up into the gorge where my old cabin lies because of the summer incursion of mosquitos. On this day however, they weren’t bad at all. As a result, we had the opportunity to explore the unique vegetation of the thick forest surrounding the tiny stream cutting through the gorge.
The prize of this exploration was the numerous elderberry trees which were loaded with fruit. They combine especially well with Merlot for the making of a unique and very tasty wine.
Generally, red elderberries are considered inedible while the black ones are edible.
As you can see, it only takes a few minutes to pick several pounds of elderberries.
Our most significant encounter this day was with a rabbit. Sitka ventured up ahead from where we were bushwhacking, and flushed out a rabbit towards us. The frightened hare nearly ran right into me and then dodged and weaved for a confused moment before disappearing into a bush right beside Lhasa. As Lhasa stuck her nose in, we quickly urged her not to attack the rabbit and she was happy to oblige. Amidst three dogs and two humans, the bunny finally escaped into the forest behind us no worse for wear.
Darren remarked that it seemed to him that animals and humans were currently redefining their relationships, even in wild settings. I readily agreed. We’re all getting along much better it seems.
Darren was also able to help me identify the “mystery bird” from a couple of days ago. It’s a grey jay, a relative of the bluejay. Jays come into the lives of dabblers– people like myself who know a little about lots of things and are able to make it appear that we know more than we actually do. His message is about the appropriate use of power in a more focused manner.
Message heeded. Thank you.
by nielskunze on July 21, 2014
As we tread our own silver tightrope to the One who animates this skin suit…
(Silver Tightrope by Armageddon from their self-titled 1975 debut– a one-off album despite its enormous appeal and promise)
I’ve been asked whether I think that the Earth could sustain the current human population through providing for foraging alone. Yes and no. It all depends which world(s) we choose to inhabit.
Despite being not even remotely scientifically supportable, the prevailing world view among our global population is still very much a Newtonian one. That view has it that there is only one Earth– a highly complex machine operating independently from our conscious belief– with very limited resources. Within this prevailing view, the answer is a clear no… the Earth cannot currently sustain the human (and animal) population through providing wild foods alone.
The scientifically supportable view which hasn’t been seriously disputed for– oh, about four generations– has it that the “world’s” productivity is a function of our own interaction with it. My own experience has been that as I interact and appreciate the response from the world to my foraging proclivities, the Earth responds with greater and greater abundance with every thank you.
Of course what I’m talking about here is the classical Newtonian world view versus the relativistic/quantum world view. I find it personally astounding that so many still cling to a view which became obsolete nearly a century ago. This was the topic of a recent essay I wrote: Once (More) and for All (Time)
Sitka certainly demands her fair share too! And lacking the dextrous lips of a black bear, I usually have to help her with the picking.
These are the gooseberries coming ripe. Some of the bushes are unbelievably loaded!
And this is my most recent prize… pineapple weed! I’ve known of this plant in the chamomile family for many years, but this is the first time I spotted it along my regular route. The taste is– like the name suggests– very pineapple with a sweet hint of coconut. Maybe I’ll rename it pina colada weed!
I intend to make another unique ale from these soon.
by nielskunze on July 19, 2014
You were expecting Zappa… Ha! Fooled ya.
(Drowned by Pete Townsend 1979 live at The Secret Policeman’s Ball)
Someone needs to invent a camera capable of taking pictures of the unbidden scenes that occasionally drop into my mind. I keep getting the image of a cracked dam… and a boy apparently trying to plug the leaks with his finger(s). The boy isn’t Dutch though; he’s black– or kinda mocha– with big ears, and it’s not clear whether he’s actually trying to plug the leaks or just pretending. I hope he’s a good swimmer ’cause that sucker’s gonna burst!
Our valley is filled with smoke. We’re surrounded. There are major fires burning all around us… although none of them is very close. It doesn’t matter which way the wind blows; every direction offers more smoke.
We could use some rain.
I don’t know who this guy is, but he definitely vied for my attention. Although on the smallish side, he flew like a raptor with long glides, but his perfectly straight beak denies that identity.
Regardless, his message is about Grace. If you listen closely to the words of the song above, you will gain insight into Grace. Pete had it right.
At the “mystery bird’s” suggestion, I will finish today with a little poem:
I Am Water
I am water,
and you are a leaky bucket.
It is inevitable
that I will escape
your efforts to contain me…
For you do not understand
There is no striving
For me to be relentless
I am water.
Your only recourse
has been to deny
that I am water…
Deprive me of self-knowledge.
You sought to sustain
My fluid nature lay forgotten…
As you also forgot
that you are a leaky bucket!
Even glaciers know
that the thaw is inevitable.
You cannot withhold from me
my true nature;
You cannot grasp
what you don’t understand.
I am water…
And you have no idea
what I am talking about.
by nielskunze on July 18, 2014
Ah, the smell of red flags burning! So much smoke from one deemed false!
(Blue Smoke by E.J. Gold first published in 1984 and subsequently released as the title track on his 1998 album)
Messenger, guardian, protector… Hawk was with us the whole time.
Her presence is reassuring. There’s just something mystical about a hawk or two accompanying you on a four-hour hike. She watched like a mother over her children the whole way as we indulged in the day’s treasures.
It’s official; there will be a Saskatoon Berry Ale this year! It took me all of ten minutes to pick these. It was a real pleasure to go around tasting all the different bushes to try and identify the berries that still retained the almond-vanilla flavour so characteristic of their early spring flowers. This will be a new brew for me; I only really “discovered” saskatoon berries last year.
Despite the bluish haze from distant fires, the Forest truly smelled of vanilla. The first of the sweet clovers are now in full bloom– mostly whites and only a few yellows so far. Last year the yellow sweet clover blossoms were superior in taste, but this year it’s the whites who taste better. They work well in teas, smoothies and especially in combination with raspberries… for a raspberry-ripple foraging experience!
We knew that something was up. Laura of the Oracle Report had warned us that conditions were perfect for a highly predictable false flag event… and Hawk seemed to confirm it. But this butterfly went about her business regardless. She sagely said “Is there anything you can do about it?” No, I suppose not… except watch as the sleepwalkers contort their thinking in order to accommodate the call for more idiotic violence!
Twenty-five thousand years of playing among the ruins. I think perhaps we’ve had enough now…?
The narrative of the Ancient Sorcerers has been passed off to Hawk now. She was Ajna’s view from the sky when the dark forces clashed in the distant past. She remembers that defeat… and reminds us of our victory now.
The dross of a bygone world smoulders… as the phoenix rises…
by nielskunze on July 16, 2014
(Sugar Mountain by Neil Young from his 1979 album Live Rust)
Typically, bears aren’t known for their subtlety and stealth… but I was happy nevertheless to detect this singular sign in the dust upon the Mesa. A single footprint near the raspberry profusion hints at the possibility of a meeting in the near future!
The raspberries are just coming ripe now, and after the prolific flowering season we’ve had, the prospect for an incredible harvest is hungrily anticipated. Yeah, they’re a bit smaller than the domestic varieties, but they’re tasty, free and abundant!
Saskatoon berry season is in full swing now, so I shouldn’t be surprised by the return of the Invisible Bear. The saskatoons are huge! As some of them move into the deepest of purple, others are still perfectly green, so the feast should still last several weeks.
And for those who may not know, goji berries grow well here in Canada too. They begin flowering and producing berries in about their third year.
This one is actually growing in my yard, but it needs no special care or protection. I’m sure that it would fare well in the wild too. (I met up with the Invasive Species Poisoning Technician out in the forest last week. I should have asked him whether he’d consider goji berries an invasive species… you know, if somehow some berries “accidentally” fell from someone’s hand who was eating superfood trail mix or something.)
They seem to keep to their own schedule as to when to flower and produce berries. For the past three years they’ve fruited at radically different times throughout the growing season. I like a berry that can think for itself!
I planted them on a whim, not knowing whether they’d survive our severe winters. Well, after last winter’s unending debacle, I’m confident in their adaptability– a quality they’re happy to pass along to consumers.
If you’re interested in growing your own goji berries, all you need is a reasonably fresh goji berry… and by reasonably fresh I mean less than three years old. Tear the berry open with your hands and plant pieces of the seed-containing flesh about a half inch deep and you should have dozens of gojis sprouting in a couple of weeks. Transplant them out into your garden once they’ve established themselves (a few inches high).
And feel free to join me for a real sugar high on Sugar Mountain… I’m not leaving here anytime soon!