Meet my dear Great XXX Uncle Victor Wronski. Lighting up the silver screen in the Pre-Code era. Heating it up too!
His movie roles and his, ahem, offscreen antics brought the definition "type casting". In the lobby card pictured above, don't get confused. "Cockeyed" wasn't what it means today. Or, more correctly, what it could in these Post Modern Relativistic times. You know the classic, "Sometimes a Cigar is just a Cigar".
Which reminds me of the story about what Groucho Marx was rumored to have said to a women on his show, "You Bet Your Life". She had very many children and Groucho asked her why. She replied that she loved her husband. Groucho: "I love my Cigar, too. But, sometimes I take it out of my mouth".
Uncle appeared in the many faintly remembered, never to be seen lost early Hollywood naughty confections. "Some Sugar with That, Honey?" "Let's Take a Look ... Bend Over." "I'm Peckish, But Not That Much!" "Eat That!!!" "That's One of Mine!"
That last one — "That's One of Mine!"— had a funny plot line:
He played the piano. Wrote all his tunes himself. Brilliant. Bigger than Jesus. And, BTW, John Lennon too. In the day, that is. But. Big "but". He gave his tunes the worst names. Dirty. Lewd. Scatalogic. Sleazy. Twisted. Warped. You get the picture? Just, downright awful. Unspeakable. [In these easily offended times, he would be kind ... of such.]
So it goes that one day he's auditioning for a gig at a swell Hollywood night spot. The manager likes his playing. "But, you can't say the song titles. This is a swanky joint!" Uncle agrees. Uncle, that is, in the movie. Remember we're talking about a movie? C'mon, Man!
He's playing his heart out. The crowd loves it. Going nuts, in fact. After a while he needs to make a pit stop. Excuses himself, and goes to the restroom. On his way out he forgets to put things back. A fellow sees that, and says, "Hey! Do you know your pants are unzipped and your dick is hanging out!" Uncle, in that still well remembered reposte chimes back: "Know it? I wrote it!"
Or, that blockbuster movie, "Night Cap". The, ahem, climax of the movie. After a lavish and adventurous night on the town with some lovely, he's invited up for the so oft euphemized "night cap".
The lady prepares a coupla Stingers. A hint if there ever was one. But ... he goes to take a sip and notices something. What is it. A pubic hair. Floating right there int he middle of the glass.
The movie moves to the inside of his thinking. "Is this just a messy mistake?" "Is this an overture?" "What should I do?" "On any level, she's sure not someone I should bring to meet Momma!" Always one to hedge his bet, and to keep his cards close to his vest, he said, "Do you have anything to eat with that?".
Not one to miss an opportunity either, but one who is tactful enough — talk about tact! He once asked a women he had just met a tactless question. She had a visibly protruding belly. He inquired whether she was pregnant, or had just finished a big lunch.
After that, it was all denouement from there. It was pre-code, but even in the day the perticlars weren't laid out in full view. But, you can imagine it. Just take down one of those pornos you got on file and pop it in the VCR.
You know them. They're the super nerdy black box formulas that some random just still wet-behind-the-ears whippersnappers cook up to get ahead in their careers pleasing the boss by sorting out all the info on us hoi poloi so that the corporate overlords in all their selfless beneficence can let us know what there is for sale "that you might like". And, more insidiously, what you should think. Tell me, where did you come up with that cock sure political preference you got?
If you take what I just said as snarky ... C'mon man! [Can I say that gender-specific mention any more?] Have some snark with your snark.
I get it. All that content on the Internet, somebody's got to pay for it. If you don't know who that would be ... advertisers. And, advertisers like to know who they're "targeting" in that advertising, and what those who's want and need. Or should.
Enter the algorithm. Short explanation. Say all you are interested in is only looking around on the Internet at pigeons. Low and behold! Everywhere you go in the digital world there you'll be sure to see items relating to pigeons that you can buy with just a click away. I know that's a silly example. If you're anything like me, then we could cite "titties" as another example.
Okay, get it? Algorithms is what they use to put you together. "Put you together." That's also the term for when you go in for an oil change and come out with a new engine. You just got put together, bruh! Once when I worked with a bunch of guys in an R&D lab one of the men had his car in for repair. We pranked him with a fake phone call from the repair shop informing him he had a crack in his engine block and the whole engine was replaced. We watched in wicked glee as he blew a gasket.
So, where we goin' with this algorithm business?
Enter artificial intelligence [AI]. Algorithms on steroids. Algorithms of algorithms.
Here's a peek into the future ...
How about having a wall sized TV screen just there in front of your eyes? But ... no TV set. Just shows up with a push of a button. In thin fricken air! Heck, by the time something like what I'm describing goes on line, geez, all you have to do is think it and so it is. Not, like Jesus would be talking about, by faith; but like you'd be hooked up to some database in the sky, tethered there with an sending-receiving implant in your keppe. Imagine what wonderfulness marketers could cook up if they could access our thoughts!? Pigeons with titties?
[Let's fuck with them. Meditate. No thoughts. Power to the People!]
Anyhow ...
Imagine that life sized image screen right there in front of you, in plain old "thin air". How'd you do it, boy!?
Here's the short mansplaining version for all you female readers. [Assuming you happen at this very moment to identify as female. Boys will be girls. Who said that? How to tell for sure the Male chromosome from the Female chromosome? You pull down their genes.]
In your living room — or, if you're one of the small percents and have a viewing room, or two, or so — the set up will start with a granular tactile mapping of the room electronically. In real time, to be sure. An AI 3D image of said room is downloaded in real time to a program already set up with a mathematical algorithm created for such doings. For the more technically bent, you'll immediately know it as "Multi-Dimensional Recombinant Socoidal Interpolated Molecular Flagistronic Hype-Phasic Reformatted Quantum Pulse Tranfer Uploading Reconfiguration and Throughput Neo-Aliased Spot On Damn Straight You Bet Ya'."
Don't you just love how they cuted it up at the end?
For short: M-D.R.S.I.M.F.H-P.R.Q.P.T.U.R.T.N-A.S.O.D.S.Y.B.Y.
When I first heard about it I got so excited I farted. They told me when I actually saw it for reals I would shit my pants.
That smarty pants algorithm can get right down into the granular molecularity of your digs and jiggle those protons and electrons such that when the application is running an image appears right there. It's Quantum, baby. Literally. That fucking algorithm even knows how to get into that thin air and factor in temperature, air pressure, and even the aroma of what's cooking in the kitchen.
Sometimes I think that it's already in use on the political front.
Why not? Radios did it. That thing stuck to your ear, for sure. Your mother yelling at you while you're in the lavatory wondering what you're doing with your hands. Maybe, after all, those smartphones our hands are stroking 24/7 are a blessing in disguise. Idle hands and that devil guy [lady?] ... you know how that goes.
Imagine the technological leap of it and our astonishment being similar to that at the time when the motion picture was first new. Or, photographs. Heck, kids today assume all only we ever had was hand devices to make telephone calls. Once there were only horses to get around. Cars. Electric? Ah, progress!
Speaking of which ... is Steve Jobs the modern day Techno Savior? Or, just an misguided enabler of our stupified, distracted captive state of ignorance?
If you're reading this online, expect to see ads littering your social media feeds and those assorted websites you visit at 3 o'clock in the morning when nobody's looking. Oh, they're looking. Are you liking?
[Every year I update this writing with new ideas, insights, stuff, and events. Currently we're in 2024.]
I first wrote this during Lent 2004. You know, that time between pฤ czki and flashing skin at Mardi Gras and when the colored eggs magically appear in all the nooks and crannies around the yard. Chocolate bunnies. Peeps. Jelly Beans. Oh, let's not forget the reason for the season ... He Is Risen!
This version is slightly edited with deepened insights and recent developments. Jokes, too.
For 2024 ...
"There is only one absolute Truth, and all other truths emanate from it. When you find that Truth, your actions will be in alignment with it. Human action can reflect that Truth, or it can reflect illusion. Can the Truth be put into words? Yes, but the words are, of course, not it. They only point to it. The Truth is inseparable from who you are. Yes, you are the Truth. If you look for it elsewhere, you will be deceived every time. The very Being that you are is Truth. Jesus tried to convey that when he said, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life.’ These words uttered by Jesus are one of the most powerful and direct pointers to the Truth, if understood correctly. If misinterpreted, however, they become a great obstacle.
Jesus speaks of the innermost I Am, the essence of identity of every man and woman, every life-form in fact. He speaks of the life that you are. Some Christian mystics have called it the Christ within; Buddhists call it your Buddha nature; for Hindus, it is Atman, the in-dwelling God. When you are in touch with that dimension within yourself — and being in touch with it is your natural state, not some miraculous achievement — all your actions and relationships will reflect the oneness with all life that you sense deep within. This is love. Laws, commandments, rules and regulations are necessary for those who are cut off from who they are, the Truth within." — Eckhart Tolle
Read on ...
In 2004, that year Mr. Mel Gibson’s latest movie The Passion of the Christ kicked off the Lenten season. And almost everyone by now knows that it had created a whole lot of debate. Not to mention a few dollars, too. What was he thinking? A family movie? As David Denby wrote in the New Yorker Magazine, “Jesus said, ‘Suffer the little children to come unto me,’ not ‘Let the little children watch me suffer.’ ” Frank Rich in the NY Times called the movie a "sadomasochistic gorefest".
This is not a movie review. I’d like to give Mel Gibson some credit, however. [Yes. Credit. Even though he has since then moved on up and added public displays of racism and misogyny to his resume. But, this year is now an 2016 Oscar contender. Crowds! Sometimes they love you. Sometimes, not. Ask Jesus about that one.] By my lights, and setting aside whether you agree or disagree with his portrayal, or his Christology, I appreciate a healthy general debate on religion itself.
My hope is that the conversation opens to a discussion on what’s at the heart of religion, and not just be something to appropriate by someone seeking to win some narrow sectarian argument or co-opting it to gain a political prize. Or, shamelessly burnishing a public image with a reputation of sanctimony and goodness. I am all for goodness; saintliness, even. But, goodness gracious, not as a branding device. An old car sales dog I once knew had this sage advice, “Ya know how to tell if their lying? Their lips are moving.” [Completely unrelated, I am sure, watch Oprah on OWN network.]
It is at their heart that I find a great deal of unity among religions, even though, on the surface, there seems to be a lot of separation. Words, words, words.
My take (hope?) is that Mel’s movie has boldly triggered the “dangerous” theme of religion itself into our stridently secular cultural conversation. Secular, as in “Did you have a good Christmas? Get everything you wanted?” “Are you ready for Easter? Nice decorations at Michaels at the mall. There’s a sale on!” I am interested in living into the holistic worldview for myself and offer my expertise as a professional to those who would also want that for themselves. Religion fits.
Read Why Religion Matters Huston Smith.
Religion (also, read spirituality) is concerned with everything that is, the whole enchilada; as opposed to only those things we can get our hands on (read science/technology). [Then there's Scientology. A complete got-the-world-on-a-string package. Or, Madonna and her Kaballa, and their little red string.]
I see it as a plus to be confronted to consider the big life questions: Who am I? What is this? Where did I come from? Where am I going? For what purpose? WTF.
Don’t look at Reality TV for any of those answers. (Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? Temptation Island! The Bachelor. Ya, sure.) [A personal aside: I’m working on a TV project with some of my show biz buddies. It’s called “Who’s Got My Divot? It’s about bald celebrities and patches of grass. That’s all I can reveal at this time. And there’ll be a real mind blowing twist at the end of the 20-week run. So far, the pilot is green lights as far as I can see. Even Trump is on board. Tune in.]
Returning: I don’t know if Mr. G had what I’m talking about in his mind for his controversial project, but I can make my own point, even if I don’t spend $25 million to produce this article. [For my appreciative and supportive readers, send only checks and money orders. In-kind contributions also accepted. I don't want much. Only, let it have taste and quality.]
Just to clarify a bit more, my hope is to see this conversation shift to a higher level. In the so called culture wars that may be a part of what now seems to be 24/7 political campaigning, the issue of religion could be appropriated only for political advantage to score points with potential voters by hanging that subject on some hot button issues. When I see a pitchman on TV prominantly wearing a Christian cross I role my eyes. Look for it, it's theres. The real nugget could be overlooked. I am personally interested in making a religious orientation a part of the fabric of my life and support others who choose to do the same. So what is a religious orientation to life, anyway?
If you are a reader of books I highly recommend Why Religion Matters by Huston Smith. This is not about going to church on Sunday or whatever other observance you follow or the set of words and names unique to your religion. It is about the significance of the spiritual side of things; how in the current climate in our society the sphere of religion is marginalized to the sidelines in our mass/mad dash to a promise of a scientific and technological future of more, better, and different; and, as he so eloquently makes the case, why religion matters. Read the book.
Then, of course, there’s Jesus. If Henny Youngman wasn't a Jew he might say ... "Take Jesus. Please!"
I am not attempting to author the definitive exegesis. Just my own view.
Here it is: Jesus is a Buddhist!
Whoa, Ho, Whoa! Now before you take the heat off Mr. Mel and put it on me, let me s’plain, Lucy. The Buddha saw deeply into things and handed down teachings about the nature of suffering and the possibility for freedom from suffering. (Thank you, Buddha!) The key to this freedom is the practice of detachment, surrender. In that practice we free ourselves from our unnecessary involvements with the illusory nature of the world; most particularly, attachment and adversion.
Here’s a mind teaser for you: Do we experience suffering, or do we suffer experience? I believe it was The Buddha who put it as, “All is suffering.” My go-to teacher, Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, (in I Am That… the last book you will ever read) asserts the latter; indeed, we suffer experience. Read the book.
The message of the Cross is the same in this respect, I believe. Only, if Jesus transcended pain and suffering— saw through it — is he the real deal? You get to decide that for yourself. [I pray for you.] Bear your cross lightly. I see his crucifixion as his highest testament: “YES!” Not defeated and resigned to enduring the worst kind of torture. But, seeing through it. Accepting. Yes!
A long time ago at my est [Erhard Seminars Training] training (yes, I’m one of those) I learned about how, if you fully experience something, it disappears. See for yourself. Don’t just believe it, do it. You’ll see for yourself. Take heart in seeing Jesus as accepting his karma and sacrificing his own personal sense of self to demonstrate the possibility for all. His realization and sacrifice also earned enough grace/merit for humankind in all the three times — past, present, and future — that all’s you got to do is live into his example, follow his advice: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” “Forgive.” “Let it go.” "Trust." "Give it to the Lord." Cause when you let it go, isn’t it gone? I’m not much impressed for overlarge professions of faith and histrionic acceptings of Jesus, as such. Looks good on paper perhaps, but in the work place it’s still dog eat dog. On the highway, too. It’s time to walk the talk, pardner.
A priest, burdened by the importance of his work, went into the church pray. Falling to his knees, he lamented, "O Lord, I am nothing! I am nothing!"
Just then a prominent Christian judge passed by and overhearing the prayer was moved to join the priest on his knees. Shortly, he too, was crying aloud, "O Lord, I too am nothing! I am nothing!"
The janitor of the church, awed by the sight of the two men praying joined them, crying, "O Lord, I also am nothing! I am nothing!"
At this, the judge nudged the priest and said, "Now look who thinks he's nothing!"
I recently attended a talk by a Tibetan Buddhist teacher who suggested that it is beneficial to develop a loving compassion toward oneself and all others. He further said that in order to open one’s heart you have to also open your mind. Now we’re talking real religion. Would Jesus disagree with that advice?
When I was a boy there was a crucifix with a life-sized figure of Jesus staring down at me every day at Mass. I was sincere lad but not a little goody, goody. We were compelled by the good Sisters to attend services daily before school. In fact (a little confession) I myself was the subject of a Sunday sermon on how a boy should not behave. I’ll leave it to your imagination what could possibly have prompted our pastor to use this kid as an example of a bad attitude and how that affected my psyche. Talk about a guilt trip. Where was PeeWee Herman when I needed him…”I know you are, pastor, but what about me?” [I was guilty of speaking my mind a little too freely in front of my elders; Pastor Alexander, in that most memorable instance.] On top of that I used to imagine whether, if I were in Jesus’ shoes (sandals, really), how would I deal with such torture and pain. In short, no way. More guilt. Seeing my own cowardice and weakness in this fantasy only made me feel all the more unworthy.
Now that I’m a committed meditator and have developed a glimpse at detachment myself, I can appreciate Jesus’ sacrifice in a whole new light. Could I/would I walk in his shoes. Still, no way; please, Lord. But I am not, we are not, asked to live in any shoes other than our own. So no good Christian should go on suffering. Nor Buddhist. Jew. Hindu. Muslim. Nor the rest. As for you atheists out there, you’re gonna get yours. Suffering, pain… give it up! Swami Muktananda said as much in his book entitled, Getting Rid of What You Haven’t Got.
I’m not here to tell you more on the spiritual life, as such. There are books and teachers enough. Regard this as encouragement to practice whatever path you are on. Further, if you’re not on a spiritual path, what are you on? Medication? Busy figuring out what to put on your next Pizza? Racing to be first at the next red light? Tweeting with that world class “winner” Charlie Sheen?
So, just walk your talk. Get some religion. Practice makes perfect. Saying that pain and suffering are illusions may be true. But when you’re a-hurtin’, words-only may not be useful. The trick is to practice, and practice, and practice. And start ASAP. As they say, “Don’t wait until the house is on fire before you start digging the well.’
Grace is real. Take some. All you want. You don’t have to ask your doctor, I promise.
"Be Here Now" in ordinary conversation seems to have become a piece of toss-out jargon, the kind of thing you might want to put on a bumper sticker. I once recommended Eckhart Tolle (The Power of Now) to a young fellow I know, and he brushed the subject aside with a "I have that on my book shelf". As the Church Lady says, "Well, isn't that special". The idea my dear young friend is to get it off the bookshelf and etch it on your bones. (I realize that there is some judgementalness in this recollection. Yet, if the shoe fits, you'll wear it. And, for the record, I am not concerned whether he or anyone else takes up this practice. It is enough for me to go there.)
But, the Present Moment is the master key. If you take the trouble to do it. Trouble? Well, at first, it may look like trouble. For to be in that Present Moment you have to let go of past things and future concerns. N'est–ce pas? It takes courage to enter the Present Moment. From the perspective of the past and the future it seems unknown and fearful. Death. Just to stress, where else could you be but the Present Moment? The past is over, the future not yet. Free your mind. Let's meet in the middle. Yes, the present moment my present you at first with the mess you've made of yourself. Forgive!
I'm also thinking about how the Cross figures into this conversation. If you are a fundamental type thinker then, of course, the Cross is the wooden device what our Lord was crucified on. There's symbolism there too. Think in terms of the vertical upright segment, and the horizontal, level one. In Oriental Qi Gung there are the concepts, pre-natal and post natal. Pre-natal refers to the Source of things. Post-natal, already happened things; that is, the created world. The post-natal orientation is the worldly, the mundane; past and future. The pre-natal refers to the Source of things, the creative, the yet to happen, the possible, the transcendent; you find that in the Present Moment, don't you know. The art of living is to find oneself at the intersection of these two directions. That I would say is the heart, the center of balance.
The World is Too Much With Us
by William Wordsworth
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathรจd horn.
Let's leave it with Meister Eckhart…”What good is it to me for the Creator to give birth to His Son if I do not also give birth to Him in my time and my culture?”
To Jesus on His Birthday
By Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) For this your mother sweated in the cold, For this you bled upon the bitter tree: A yard of tinsel ribbon bought and sold; A paper wreath; a day at home for me. The merry bells ring out, the people kneel; Up goes the man of God before the crowd; With voice of honey and with eyes of steel He drones your humble gospel to the proud. Nobody listens. Less than the wind that blows Are all your words to us you died to save. O Prince of Peace! O Sharon's dewy Rose! How mute you lie within your vaulted grave. The stone the angel rolled away with tears Is back upon your mouth these thousand years
Thank you all. Thank you Mel. Thank you Buddha. Thank you, Jesus. I believe in love. And I believe in forgiveness. I believe in you.
PS What’s this talk about anti-Semitism? (Mel Gibson, and now that most flaming fashionista and j'accused anti-semite, John Galliano) If you said to any half intelligent person that Jesus’ death was instrumental in the redemption of humankind for which we should be deeply grateful, then what should be our logical attitude toward the people who where supposedly also there for that event? [News flash: Pope Benedict the XVI has just recently exonerated the Jews in the matter of Jesus’ death. Finally!] And, to button it up, aren’t we all of us instrumental in crucifying Jesus all over again whenever we fail to love one another?
I am also smilingly remembering Mr. Myron Cohen, a Borsht Belt era entertainer I used to see on the Ed Sullivan show Sunday evenings. He once on network TV confronted his critics who charged him with being anti-Semitic. “Anti-Semitic?” he asked. “Anti-Semitic?” And then, “But, I am Semitic!”
Now that I’m on to the Jews. [Yes, you Jews, I am on to you.] Take the Jews. Please.
No, but really…
What is a Jew, anyway? Isn’t “Yaweh” the name of God in the Hebrew Bible? Let’s break it down… Yaweh… Yaweh-ish… Yaw-ish... Jew-ish. Does anybody else see the connection? I say, that to be a Jew, is to be… God-Like. And can’t we all be that? Aren’t we all, that? What’s this about anti-Semitism. So we’re all semitic! Literally, maybe not so much. But, figuratively, quite so. We be all wandering in search of our true home.
Happy trails.
God’s speed.
Try to be a mensch. (And, not a schmuck.)
This old Jewish lady comes back from her doctor check up. She says to her husband, Sammy, who’s engrossed in his newspaper at the kitchen table, “So, Sammy, you vant to know vat the doctor said about my brrreasts?” Sammy, showing the only slightest bit of interest and barely looking away from the paper, says, “Vat!” “The doctor said I have the brrreasts of a sixteen year old!” Now, here was his chance to level his proud bride, “And, vat did he say about your eighty year old ass?” After a small pause (wait for it), this curt come back, “Ve didn’t talk about you!”
Two men drinking together at a bar. One is Chinese, the other Jewish. After a few tilts the Jewish fellow punches the Chinese guy in the jaw, knocking him down. “Hey, what was that for? Huh?” “It was for Pearl Harbor!” “Pearl Harbor? That was the Japanese, not the Chinese!” “Japanese, Chinese… what’s the difference?” That seemed to end it and, after things settled back and a few more tilts, the Chinese man punches his Jewish friend, also knocking him down. “Hey, what the heck was that for?” “That was for the Titanic!” “The Titanic? That was an iceberg!” “Iceberg, Greenberg; what’s the difference.”
A man is walking down the street looking for a shop to have his broken watch repaired. There’s a store with a big clock in the window and he goes in. He says to the proprietor that he is there to have his watch repaired. The proprietor, somewhat perplexed, informs the customer that he is a Mohel, specially trained to officiate at the circumcision rite in the Jewish tradition. The even more perplexed man with the watch says, “But, you have a clock in the window?” The Mohel counters, “What would you put in the window?”
You know how there are things we say to one another that pretty much amount to what’s called “social grease.” How ya doin? What’s Up? How are you? How do you do? [On that last one, Groucho would say, “Well I haven’t had any complaints lately.”] The mot of the moment, Wassup? I am my father’s son and have a thrown urge to see such things as an opening to tell my life story. But, in fact, as you know, it’s just a way to toss something of an acknowledgement out there without any real expectation of a reply any more detailed than the usual fine, thank you. But I like to mix it up a bit. When I am feeling particularly Christian, I respond with that topper of all toppers, I am blessed. If I am feeling really frisky, I’ll add a Praise the Lord and a Thank you, Jesus. Who's the man? When my Jewish gene is dominant, my retort is---think Jackie Mason---Ech, how should I feel?
Disclaimer: Source not given. Received this information in a Facebook entry. Seems accurate though.
The year is 1914. The years of WWI and the farmers who cultivated "hemp" in exchange for US dollars... Keep this in mind and keep reading.
Industrial hemp is not just an agricultural plant. It's the antidote to oil and the dollar.
HOW WAS HEMP PROHIBITED?
1. One acre of hemp produces as much oxygen as 25 acres of forest. 2. Again, one acre of hemp can produce the same amount of paper as 4 acres of trees. 3. While hemp can be turned into paper 8 times, wood can be turned into a paper 3 times. 4. Hemp grows in 4 months, wood in 20-50 years. 5. Cannabis is a real radiation trap. 6. Cannabis can be grown anywhere in the world and needs very little water. Also, as it can keep insects away, it doesn't need pesticides. 7. If textiles manufactured with hemp become generalized, the pesticide industry could completely disappear. 8. The first jeans were made with hemp; even the word "KANVAS" is the name the hemp products receive. Hemp is also an ideal plant for manufacturing ropes, laces, purses, shoes and hats. 9. Reduces the effects of chemotherapy and radiation in the treatment of cannabis, AIDS and cancer; it is used in at least 250 diseases such as rheumatism, heart, epilepsy, asthma, stomach, insomnia, psychology and in stiffness of the spine. 10. The protein value of hemp seeds is very high and the two fatty acids they contain are nowhere else in nature. 11. Hemp is even cheaper to produce than soy. 12. Cannabis-fed animals don't need hormonal supplements. 13. All plastic products can be manufactured with hemp, and hemp plastic is very easy to return to nature. 14. If the body of a car is made of hemp, it will be 10 times stronger than steel. 15. It can also be used to insulate buildings; it is durable, cheap and flexible. 16. Soaps and cosmetics made with hemp do not pollute the water, so they are totally environmentally friendly. In 18th-century America, its production was mandatory and the farmworkers they did not produce were imprisoned. But now the situation has turned upside down. FROM WHERE ? -W. R. Hearst owned newspapers, magazines and media in the United States in the 1900s. They had forests and produced paper. If paper was made with hemp, he could have lost millions. -Rockefeller was the richest man in the world. I owned an oil company. Biofuel, hemp oil, was, of course, his biggest enemy. -Mellon was one of the leading shareholders of the company Dupont and had a patent to manufacture plastics from petroleum products. And the cannabis industry threatened its market. Mellon later became President Hoover's Treasury Secretary. Those big names we talked about decided at their meetings that cannabis was the enemy, and they removed it. Through the media, they have engraved marijuana in people's brains as a toxic drug, along with the word marijuana. Cannabis drugs were removed from the market, replaced by the chemical drugs used today. Forests are cut to produce paper. Plague poisoning and cancer are on the rise.
And then we fill our world with plastic waste, harmful waste..
The bud stands for all things, even for those things that don’t flower, for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing; though sometimes it is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness, to put a hand on its brow of the flower and retell it in words and in touch it is lovely until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing; as Saint Francis put his hand on the creased forehead of the sow, and told her in words and in touch blessings of earth on the sow, and the sow began remembering all down her thick length, from the earthen snout all the way through the fodder and slops to the spiritual curl of the tail, from the hard spininess spiked out from the spine down through the great broken heart to the sheer blue milken dreaminess spurting and shuddering from the fourteen teats into the fourteen mouths sucking and blowing beneath them: the long, perfect loveliness of sow.
A Wronski's Wramblings [WW] first! ... a conversation with Gravity [G].
WW: What's up?
G: Like, you don't know???
WW: How ya doin'?
G: Same old, same old. WW: Really? Sounds like you're bored. Not enough to do, keeping things together and all that? G: Well that's a full time job, for sure. And, things do indeed keep changing, so I have to adjust. Come to think of it I'm all up to there with things to do. And, I gotta do it in so-called "Real Time". Now, is the only time I got. No do overs. Nothing to postpone. WW: I think we should give you a huge THANK YOU! Speaking for all of mankind, that is. G: You are most welcome! WW: Anything you'd like to share, now that you have the ear of all of humanity. G: Yes, in fact. Here it is. You know a lot about me, for sure. Really like those Pyramids. Nice work! I was there when that fella discovered me. Not Newton. No. The guy who figured out that up and down and level were good standards for constructing things. The first plumb wall. It still brings tears to my eyes. WW: You have eyes? G: I be speaking metaphorically, junior! Don't be stupid! And, speaking of stupid ... When in the gosh dern hell are you people going to figure out that your bodies are just like any other physical structure on Earth. Same rules apply! WW: What are you getting at? G: Just this! Your body anatomically is in fact designed to work with me. That's why it's the normal thing to be stacked up vertically, everything all even and level. This is basic Physics ... how your body stacks up in me [Gravity] is a key factor in health and performance. WW: Well everybody knows that! G: Really! So how come the average individual is living observably below even a base line threshold for being in balance structurally measured against a simple straight vertical line? Plumb line, if you want to get technical. It's so common and widespread it goes unrecognized as such. You've built whole industries catering to palliative remedies for your pains and stress, completely ignoring what is in front of your noses. Off kilter to my simple dictates. Like this:
WW: You don't have to convince me, G. I teach people that as a profession. G: Well then, get busy. Spread the word. This war with Gravity must end! WW: I'm on it! G: And, another thing! What's with those golfers, always looking for the best new driver, or putter. All those lessons! Your body is an instrument in the equation too. Why not bring it into balance along the lines of Gravity! That would be a key factor in your golf score ... and enjoyment of the game? Duh!
"If we are spiritual practitioners we feel contempt for samsaric situations; we are not seriously or deeply interested in them. This does not mean that we feel disgust for or reject everything. In our life, all is relative. In our life, not everything is how it should be, nonetheless we continue to live. We accept and integrate the various circumstances of life. This is part of our awareness. To accept everything with awareness is different from being completely attached. Some people have an exaggerated liking for this or that: this is attachment. However, it does not mean that if you are a good practitioner you cannot have likings. You can like and enjoy with awareness. In the samsaric condition, we possess five or six senses, and with the senses we enjoy contact with objects. When we see an object, a flower for example, we may like it. We observe its beauty and smell its fragrance. We enjoy looking and smelling. To enjoy with awareness means to know the real nature of the object and not become attached to it. In this way, we enjoy without having negative consequences. If we are not aware, we become distracted with our liking for the flower; we want to possess the flower and attempt to have it. Thus, attachment increases, releasing all other emotions, with the ensuing negative karma. In brief, if one is aware and undistracted the enjoyment of the senses does not pose any problem. If one is distracted, enjoyment always bears negative consequences, even if things appear joyful and gratifying. For that reason, the teaching says that all is illusion. When we see a nice object and we become attached, we resemble a moth which, attracted by a flame at night, flies into it, burns, and dies."
– Namkhai Norbu Rinpoche from the book "Longchenpa's Advice from the Heart"
A Treasured Prayer for the Swift Rebirth of Dudjom Pedma Shedpa Rinpoche, written by H.H. Kharmapa.
Kye Ma Kyi Hรผd
(A desperate cry of sadness)
In the palace of the Copper Colored Mountain at the heart center,
It is known to you my sole father, Padmasambava in union.
We’ve been blown away by the harsh winds of exhausted merit and negative karma,
Look upon your helpless disciples in this woeful state.
The adornment residing at the skull cakra of great bliss,
It is known to you father and son Dudjom Heruka Treasure Revealers.
The one I depend upon like the heart in my chest has left me.
Look upon your followers whose hope for the present and future has been shattered.
My sole refuge, the miraculous display Pedma Shedpa
Who has gone beyond the reaches of where my eyes can see.
Having lost the fortune of hearing you speak which was pleasant to the ears,
While my five senses (the doors to the world) are still intact, their purpose has been crushed.
Sentient beings of this degenerate time, whose minds are wild and numb,
Even though blemishes of faithlessness and twisted thoughts obscure us from within and without,
Like parents who nurture their misbehaved child with affection,
I have no choice but to rely upon you, great treasure of compassion.
From the originally pure space of Dharmakaya, arise as the unimpeded Rupakaya.
In a single instant of my mind’s view, take form. Ripen and liberate all the realms of beings without residue
And manifest like a new sun rising and return here unabated.
Ekajati and Dharma protectors of pure samaya,
Don’t be even slightly lazy or indifferent in this moment.
Welcome from in front and send off from behind
And invite the sunlight of humanity back to this world.
________________________
Requested by Namkha Rinpoche from Switzerland who with sorrow, insisted that I write this prayer and through my own one pointed faith I made this aspiration.
Written by the one who holds the name of H.H. 17th Kharmapa, Orgyen Thinley. Written on February 19th of 2022.
1. One acre of hemp produces as much oxygen as 25 acres of forest.
-W. R. Hearst owned newspapers, magazines and media in the United States in the 1900s. They had forests and produced paper. If paper was made with hemp, he could have lost millions.
