FUD

“What happens when totalitarian governments devolve citizen surveillance programs and discover a vaccine for C-19?” Zeynep asked her mother - the mother of all answers.

“Don’t worry my sweet,” said her neurotic mama-san living in bliss, “media, politicians and bankers will invent new improved fake fears.

“They will create problems, spin them for ADD sheep and try to sell us solutions. Ha, ha, ha.

“The joke is on them. They play us for fools and idiots. Anyone questioning authority is imprisoned for life, hauls shit in a Re-Education through Labor camp, is stoned to death, waterboarded, exiled or beheaded with a jeweled word sword. No worries my sweet. The manufacturing sector will rebound when shelves are empty. We’ll always have sugar and we can always go shopping. We shop to reduce our anxiety, a low level of fear. We buy things to make us feel better. It's a temporary fix like religion or Xanax. Take two and call me in the morning.”

“How long will it take until people wake up and pay attention?” said Zeynep.

“Hard to say. Some will some won’t.”

“Self-awareness and authenticity are essential. Letting go scares the shit out of people.”

“Learning to let go is learning to live. They suffer from FUD,” said her mother, twisting her hair until it caught fire.

“What is FUD?”

“Fear, uncertainty and doubt. They are internal psychological/emotional gyroscopes. A human’s first question is, Is it safe? Will it help me or hurt me? FUD are hunger angels with a vengeance.”

“How long has FUD been going on?”

“You ask many questions child,” fanning her daughter’s flame. “A long time. A Century is Nothing.”

“That’s the title of Omar's non-linear book, more like a jazz poem. Few read it. Fewer understood it. So it goes. It’s essential to cultivate humor and curiosity.” said Z. “What about adventure and surprise?”

“Adventure and surprise are life. You see the BIG picture. Talk is cheap. Character is action. Senses and language cannot be trusted.”

“I want to know the truth mother. Living safely is dangerous.”

“The truth,” she said, “is that life is an absurd comic process. If you laugh you last. Our illusionary insecurities and real authenticities evolve. Life is a celebration, a dance and process of becoming. It is a beautiful harsh short messy dream come true. It’s magic. We adapt, adjust and evolve. There’s no rhyme or reason. Life is not a career, it’s a game. Existence precedes essence. We are flukes of the universe. We have a one-way ticket. We feel peace in our heart-mind with gratitude. Wonder, abundance, and compassion. Help others realize their higher self.”

“We are stardust. We trust our power and our song. Let’s go and play now. Take the day off and be creative.”

“Yes, let’s invent a game theory my darling daughter. It’s called mindfulness. Mindfulness gives you time. Time gives you choices. Choices, skillfully made, lead to freedom. You don’t have to be swept away by your feelings. You can respond with wisdom and kindness rather than habit and reactivity.”

“I shared your wisdom earlier in this wandering tale.”

“Yes, you did. Telepathy. Reading about mindfulness it is one thing. Living it is something else.”

Holding hands they came out of the world.

The Language Company

Awareness

As Hunter S. Thompson said, “When the going gets weird the weird turn pro.” 

Strange days are upon us.

Governments have long mastered stifling any internal seismic news which could upset their domestic control over the sheep. 

W.H.O. failed to recognize the severity and lack of information from Human Land when the initial virus case was identified. The lack of transparency taught the world a sad long term lesson. 

S. Korea took prompt efficient action. The U.S. didn't.

So it goes. Perfect gardening weather with social distance. 

People wear masks. Masks eat their face.

A Japanese friend says their TV shouts, “The Martians are Coming.”

Someone wrote to say - “The money is gone. The plague is here. Time to write poetry."

This minuscule part of Earth has been spared the contagious onslaught. So far.

This is the new Brave New World and a huge wake-up call for humans. 

I limit my virus propaganda consumption to 10 minutes a day.

Live Forever.

Life gives us the test first and lessons later.

It gave everyone a big test and heavy deep real lessons. HDR. It was only a matter of time coming and will be a long time gone.

Everything is under control.

A virus has no social affiliation, race, religion, gender, nationality, bias, prejudice, expectations, politics, economy or wishful thinking.

I’ve written about this disaster potential in my books so I’m not surprised, knowing how Big Brother and media influences sheep. Bah.

I walk through world dust playing my blues harp & singing about loss and reality.

The Plague by Camus

Author Page

Virus Life

A short story with universal repercussions.

Once upon a time (for 10,000 years) a Bat lived in Human Province. 

It carried a disease in its small black body. 

Bat shit landed on the ground. 

Another animal named Pangolin ate the shit.

A starving hunter trapped Pangolin. 

He sold it to a woman working in the Human Wet Market.

She killed it. She cut it up to sell.

Hungry customers bought Pangolin parts. 

They took it home, cooked it and served it at parties.

Everyone who touched and ate the Pangolin became sick. 

Their sickness infected their communities.

A doctor at a Human Hospital diagnosed a patient with a strange disease.

He notified other health care workers about his discovery.

Police came to the doctor’s house. They said, “You are spreading rumors. This is not allowed. It is harmful to the people. Sign this paper saying you were wrong and repent your actions.”

The doctor signed.

He became sick. He went to the hospital. He died from a virus called Corona. 

Some citizens said he was a HERO. Big Brother said, he was not important.

Big Brother made 11 million Human people stay indoors until the end of time.

More died. 

The virus escaped and infected many humans on Earth. Some lived, some died.

Big Brother said, “We are victorious. We have eliminated the virus.”

"Holy Bat Shit!" said Robin.

world dust

I’m broiling on the balcony of my Tacoma tree house. Getting down and dirty after years away from the typewriter.

Covered in world dust and needing oil it’s a small portable dangerous machine.  It transforms life energies by weaving adventures. Threads follow needle.

I am a peripatetic traveler and literary outlaw.

I’m lucky to get it down now and make sense of it later.

I’m a mirror in the mandala of my labyrinth. I am Labrys, from the Greek for a two-headed axe. I write with passion and vision. Short fast and deadly.

My mirror reflects everything. It absorbs desire, anger, ignorance, passion and suffering.

Beauty has no tongue.

I’m confident and self-reliant exploring the human condition. Human energies, frequencies and vibrations reflect languages, lives and attitudes. Dreams dance reflections.

Mirror reveals emotional trust, wisdom, peace and love with truth and compassion.

Meditate on the process of your death.

Suffering is an illusion.

Your mask eats your face.

My mirror is dust free.

Creativity dances in language.

Language is oral, gestures and graphic.

Oral and gestures dissipate.

Symbolic graphic is constant.

This awareness enlightens you after years of wandering. I have been here for 1,000 years so I can only imagine what they are going through.

Everything you know is a lie.

Keep a diamond in your mind.

To feel better, clean my heart, purge old fears and improve the quality of life I climbed down to donate a pint at The Blood Bank. Good old hemoglobin.

Suffering from cancer, a hospitalized child I will never meet, know, or love needs platelets more than I do. It’s been sixty-four clicks of Earth’s rotation between donations. It’s the best re-cycling program on the planet.

Give the gift of life that keeps on giving.

My calmness meets a scared mother pacing sterile emergency rooms at Sacred Heart Hospital wondering if her daughter will receive essential ingredients in time. 

A solemn-faced, stressed out cardiovascular lab tech with his personal set of challenges and opportunities, said to her, “At this moment we have no matching donors. We’ve released a global search engine to see what’s available on the market. People are selling short to cut their losses. It’s all about supply, demand and the fear of poverty. Scarcity. There are indications of further interest rate cuts to stimulate consumer confidence. We have no immediate indication of a stimulus. We will keep you informed.”

The mother doesn’t need to hear this prattle from a white lab coat.

Fingering her bone prayer beads, skeleton heads shake, rattle and roll. Fingers caress thorns. Everything happens by accident on purpose in her life, speaking of destiny, fate and chance. Life for her and millions in the land of the free, home of the brave and broke is free will versus random chance.

Everything’s already happened. People need to experience it while confronting their shadow and alienation, loneliness and loving community in a corrupt, cynical, hysterical greed-based world where people try to Control their fear.

Write FEAR & ANGER on a paper napkin.

Burn it.

Let go.

Citizen sheep believed in fear and unsustainable consumption because they were afraid of being lonely and poor.

Happiness is a myth. The wish of desire said so.

Humans were willing victims of their fear, healthy uncertainty, and doubt. Their amygdala, a small almond shaped brain structure creating fear and emotional response fired up. Fight or flight?

Are you the hunter or the prey?

ART

Louis The Hero

“Books are an ice axe to break the sea frozen inside us.” - Franz Kafka

*

King Louis, a free slave riding a white stallion roared into Bursa from a Turkish dessert. Waving a jeweled sword he scrambled onto a world stage facing ninety million screaming bloodthirsty catatonic maniacs.

“Live and let live. I am a hero. I’ve returned from the mother of all battles. We defeated fear and ignorance. As a bonus we slew greed. We are victorious. We’ve been killing humans for 4,000 years and still no one knows who the king is. See what I brought you,” gesturing past a gateless gate. Red rolling dust clouds obscured chained destitute slaves.

“Oh, shit,” said his twin brother, a shackled slave and former Freon-free refrigerator shyster from Polo Alto singing soprano, “looks like it’s sheer linen damask lace curtains for us.”

“You can say shit again,” sang Leo, an exhausted Chinese prisoner practicing free speech in Braille, a foreign language and Omar’s specialty.

Leo’s memory remembered hauling buckets of night shit to fields near his straw and mud Gobi hovel. It was the price he’d paid for questioning Authority at Beijing Normal U.

- Why do we have to read Mao’s little red book? It’s mush for pigs, he’d asked Authority.

- Because you are a tool of the state, said Authority.

- This shit stinks.

- Here, said Authority, Carry some more.

After that melancholy loss Leo didn’t take shit from anybody. Living in exile with silence and cunning he burned through levels of existence.

A stream-winner, he slept with Ratanakiri shamans in animist cemeteries. He exchanged stories about becoming with Rita, his friend and author of Ice Girl in Banlung.

Using sustainable dry yak-yak manure Leo discovered fire by rubbing precious stones together. Impressed, his tribe anointed him Chief of Cannibals.

He wore an alarm clock around his neck demonstrating Power, Prestige, Status & Esoteric Arcane Prescient Wisdom.

On stage raising his ruby, emerald and diamond mind sword Louis the crime smelter hero approached a line of wage slaves, Soma miners, shrouded widows, seventy imprisoned journalists and cheap coal powered grieving families. “Bend over. Stick your neck out. It’s not about justice. It’s about procedure.”

“Not me! Why Me?” exclaimed millions.

He brought justice down. He decapitated a screaming target. “Take that, idiot.” Heads rolled.

Revenge. Vengeance. Swift. Sweet. Complete.

A clear cheer erupted from Turkish sheep waving ticket stubs.

Louis turned to the masses. “Step right up ladies and gentlemen to The Greatest Show on Earth. Miracles revealed. Have your immediate future told,” he repeated with reported speech.

Slaves with a top secret security clearance in deep shadows played espionage chess in the middle game. They focused on position and material.

Your move, said Death, Be mindful.

The Language Company