Reflections
The Sacredness of Public Office
Astonishment and Illusion in the US Presidential Election Campaign
PROLOGUE: What Astonishes Most About the US Election?
What is the most astonishing thing about the US presidential election campaign? Is it the fact that one of the frontrunners is a proven criminal, having a long background with her husband in the Arkansas mob (some of us have known all this for more than 20 years!), up to her eyeballs in corruption and nefarious activities (and you can easily check all this out for yourself, if you dare to do so)? Is it the fact that so many women are pushing to have her installed as president just so that, for the first time, there will be a vagina in the White House (a so-called “victory for women”)? Is it the huge number of well-meaning but naïve people supporting an old-fashioned socialist apparatchik who claims to be a peacenik but whose voting record shows him to be mainly a conformist hawk [see http://www.counterpunch.org/2016/02/16/blood-traces-bernies-iraq-war-hypocrisy/ ] (as well as having one of the angriest mouths I have ever seen)? Is it the vitriolic and crude propaganda on all sides being passed so glibly around social media (even by supposedly tolerant and liberal people)? Is it the fact that this election campaign is more of a blatantly bizarre circus than ever before? No, it is none of those things — astonishing though they actually are in themselves. However, by far the most astonishing thing about the US presidential election campaign is that SO MANY otherwise intelligent and discerning people have been fooled into believing that presidents have any real power to change anything at all! It is THAT which astonishes me above all else.
Ageizum?
I’VE OFTEN WONDERED WHY so many people ask me how old I am, almost as soon as they meet me! It’s as if they’re just waiting for the moment when they can slip the question in without it looking like it’s unnatural or intrusive. The reason why I’m asking this is because knowing someone’s physical age transmits nothing of REAL importance to another person. I can honestly say that in my whole life I’ve never asked anyone what is their age. The reason for that is not to avoid being “rude” but because I’m COMPLETELY UNINTERESTED in how many years a certain human physical mass has been on this planet. 🙂 To me that is irrelevant information when I want to “read” someone. In fact, to know someone’s age removes a mystery which I find rather attractive. For me, NOT knowing someone’s age is infinitely more interesting than knowing it 😉 But let me expand on this a little…
Words are Hugely Powerful
WORDS ARE HUGELY POWERFUL (one could also say “magical” or even “alchemical”) and can have a mighty, life-changing effect on people. But behind that effect is something else which is even beyond the words themselves: a kind of “music” if you will. Words which do not in some way induce that effect through some unheard “music” (I speak mystically) are merely functional or communicational (which is fine on their own level and in their own ways). But if artists wish to find their way into hearts with writings and open up those hearts, then they must undergo some kind of transformation themselves before (or even while) they write. In fact, the amount to which people will be affected by a writer’s words corresponds more or less equivalently to the degree to which the writer was affected when s/he originally created the chains of words.
Expect an Increase in Awakenings & Epiphanies as Scales Fall from Hardened Hearts
“Awakenings” — or we can call them by the delightful word “epiphanies” — are happening everywhere, randomly and effusively. Seemingly “bad” circumstances are being reversed or even overthrown. People who felt hopeless or lost in darkness are spontaneously finding the light. Many with previously hardened hearts are being opened up to the fullness of emotional experience. The brokenhearted are being inexplicably mended. Family relationships are being suddenly healed. This isn’t something I’m inventing or exaggerating. I know this to be true. Not only from what friends have told me or from what I’ve observed around me in the lives of others but also from my own experience, especially over the last couple of years or so. I have seen miracles happen — more than miracles — and I have felt my own heart and spirit being transformed through it. The more one’s heart is transformed, the more exponentially it transforms — like a snowball rolling down a hill, growing in size and velocity as it does so. It has a momentum all of its own.
The Brussel Atrocities
BRUSSELS! HERE WE GO AGAIN! We’ve been here before. Many times. There are so many holes in the official narrative that the truth must surely be leaking out like a rusty old garden watering can. It can’t just be me who is wondering — yet again — how the explosive stunts such as those pulled in Brussels airport could be allowed to happen. I use the word “allowed” deliberately. Because there can be no other cause behind these atrocities. They were surely allowed to happen by the authorities. How come these “authorities” say, after the atrocities, that the people who committed them were already under surveillance, yet they are still allowed to pitch up undisguised at an international airport with sophisticated CCTV in place (there is also digital facial recognition technology in place at Brussels airport), wearing a highly visible BLACK GLOVE on their left hands (a known cover for explosive trigger devices), leave luggage near the check-in desks of a US AIRLINE while one of them walks away and leaves the airport after the deadly explosions? The “authorities” have admitted they knew exactly where they were staying (they somehow always admit that AFTER the atrocities). They were under surveillance! This beggars belief! Commandos raided an apartment in Brussels ten days ago and had a shoot-out with a bunch of terrorists, after which the two guys with the black gloves in the airport had been able to get away and be on the run! How could that happen? The military spooks, their listening hubs and special forces are people who could find you even if you buried yourself in a hole in the Sahara in a dust storm! It just doesn’t hang together and anyone who thinks it does is either hopelessly brainwashed or suffering from Ostrich Syndrome!
The Three Main Levels of Love
WHY DOES THE ESSENTIAL UNDERNEATHNESS OF EVERYTHING seem to be so wonderful, even though I know that, in earthly terms, what lies above it is not? Sitting here quietly on the quayside, watching the boats drift in and out of the port, the whole panoply of everything wraps itself in a vast ocean of love and I am thereby undone. I see a man with frayed collar and cuffs and the face of a worn-out dog walking as if he never has anywhere to go or anything to live for. I see a woman with makeup caked awkwardly on her face and her lips painted red inelegantly, rendering her with a tragic clownlike appearance. I see a weeping small child with dirty face and frayed, stained clothes being frogmarched by her distraught, blackeyed, run-down mother. What else can I do but weep for the world with its bottomless black holes and unfulfilments. Yet… somehow… everything (even that which appears to be dysfunctional) seems to be “in place” — suffering merely from the effects of a latent transitoriness, awaiting a regrouping of cells.
Ancient Scripture Text
ANCIENT SCRIPTURE TEXT: “When thou seest that the lunaticks have taken over the asylum, then thou knowest that the end of the aeon draweth near. Thus, not only must thou watch and pray but thou must also prepare thyself in every way. For there will be divers earthquakes, fire and brimstone, pestilences, wailing and gnashing of teeth. Children will turn against their parents and brothers and sisters against one another as light and darkness cross their paths. There will be division in all corners. Many will be perplexed and turn to each other and say “What can this mean?” The sky will also then be darkened. And at that time will man’s haughtiness come to its apex and onto the stage of this present world there will be revealed one who is not a man (but sayeth that he is). And he will rise up and place himself on a throne made of the bones of the martyrs and call himself a being of light (though he be not of the Light). And many [most, ed.] will be deceived by him and throw flowers in his path and place laurels on his head and will sing his praises, for he will promise peace and salvation. Those few beings of the Light who will remain alive on this earth will in that time see all these things and know in their hearts what is truly coming to pass. And they will mourn for the folly of the world and, speaking the truth before man, they will open eyes and hearts of those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. Then will chaos break out once more and many [most, ed.] will be swallowed up by the earth and consumed by fire and brought to naught by pestilences. All of these also are the birth pangs and herald of the new aeon. Therefore, at that time, in worlds unseen, there will be rejoicing among the angels and there will be new heavens and a new earth and all things will be made new in divers ways no man can now fathom and the former things will no more be remembered.”
Nature’s Way
Some Personal Tips for Self-Healing
IN LATE SEPTEMBER, I WAS AWARE OF FEELING ILL in a way which was not a usual one (by “usual” I mean feeling sick, feverish, headache and other precursory symptoms of a viral infection or tummy bug). This was instead a malaise which seemed to penetrate every cell of my body and even my mood, not to mention disturbing the flow of my sleep. Having had a daughter who’s had Type 1 Diabetes since she was less than 3 years old (she’s now 21, at university in the UK) and therefore knowing the symptoms of hyperglycaemia, I suspected Type 2 Diabetes looming — especially as my urination count was up. That didn’t surprise me. I’d allowed myself to gain far too much weight and become too carefree in my diet — eating a lot of sugary and processed foods. This was unusual because normally I’m meticulous about health and diet. But I had become sloppy and too blasé by far on this anglicised holiday sunshine isle with its cheap and easily obtainable Full English Breakfasts, Shreddies cereal, Blue Stilton and Wensleydale-with-cranberries cheeses, roast dinners, cheesecakes, apple pie or crumble and a sister living locally who loves food as much as I do!
Gulliver’s Travels
I WONDER WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF EVERY HUMAN BEING READ Part 4 of Jonathan Swift’s didactic satirical novel, “Gulliver’s Travels” (written in 1735), portraying Gulliver’s visit to a Land where horses (called Houyhnhnms) are the primary species who rule with wisdom, grace and love, while humans are merely a disgusting lower order of species called Yahoos. Maybe a few lights would switch on… 😉
More on the Jacky Sutton alleged “Suicide”:
Quote from the Daily Mail: “Lorna Tychostup, who worked with [Jacky] in 2010, said: ‘I lived with her in Baghdad in her compound in her villa [for] at least four months. I saw her under a tremendous amount of stress. She handled herself with dignity, with strength. So it’s nonsense [to say she was] crying because she missed a flight. The idea that she would not have funds to take her wherever she wanted is ludicrous. She definitely rattled cages. I’m sure she had some people who didn’t like her in places of power.”
The Naked Troubadour 