King Me, Please

As a culture, we have fought a long and hard war against personal responsibility. Because everyone KNOWS the right thing(s) to do. They’re just hard. How much easier it is to elect a clown-buffoon-strong man to make all the decisions and take all the responsibility so no one else has any guilt, shame, or sense of sublime ridiculousness. Throughout the history of humanity, we have sought rulers, kings, and tyrants for this very reason. A despot is the ultimate scapegoat. We don’t even have to say we were just following orders. We will always just be children of our gods, never need to be grown-ups.

01 APR 2025

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The Salmon in the Streambed

About 30 years ago I wrote something almost every single day: poetry, essays, lengthy monologues. I hung out with writers and attended a weekly open mic poetry reading. Like when I’m in a band, I write songs for that band to play. I thought a lot about “stream of consciousness” and usually just started writing until I stopped. Some interesting things developed as a result that’s for sure.

But it makes me wonder – when people say stream of consciousness, what exactly do they mean? And how, exactly, is consciousness anything BUT a stream? Is it ever a lake, or ocean? Can it also be a mud puddle, a leaky faucet, or a urinal? When we say we regain consciousness, are we talking about a merely awake state or an awoken one? If you are truly conscious, are YOU even really there? The Buddhists and some Hindus suggest that what you perceive, what you are conscious of at that lower level, is a mere aggregation of sensate objects and receivers, with no permanent or underlying substance whatsoever. Not a void or nothingness, but simply an absence of uncaused phenomenon.

Is there really any other place where we exist, EXCEPT in the streambed of inspiration, as the Celts would have put it? In that sense, does a fish comprehend the nature of water any more than a bird appreciates the nature of air? A medium for temporal energy dispersion, nothing more, and the outside that makes the inside stay where it is, at least when we’re not really conscious of how we are interdependently connected to each and every other thing across all time.

Imagination, creativity, inspiration, exultation, joy, happiness. Are these things actually anything other than the perception of truly being alive – those moments when the dull dust of every survival is rubbed clean away and we are able to connect fully to the universe? As I wrote a while ago, a place where “we are not lost in these woods, nor are they lost in us.”

If we are REALLY all connected, is it possible for any of us to actually disconnect? Or is that simply another illusion, a deception we buy into when we need for whatever reason some “alone” time? That’s another oxymoron, isn’t it? Alone time. If time is a never-ending spool that stretches back into the past and forward into the future, ad infinitum, with only a spec of a dot at the point where the Speed of Now creates the coordinates that look like us, how could we EVER really be alone? Wouldn’t we be co-existing not only with every other thing throughout time itself, but also ourselves in whatever the smallest increment of evolutionary change we can imagine might be?

So, is consciousness a stream? If it’s not a stream, is it consciousness? If we claim to be awake, or awoken, what is the state in which we are not? Is that not also part of the stream?

01 APR 2025

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Birth and Death

I have nothing to say, and I am saying it. That is poetry. – 13 Words, John Cage

Where does it begin? What is “it”? What is a “beginning”? If you’re going to plumb the depths of the universe and try to come up with a way to explain each and every thing from sea to shining sea, you really have start with a definition of terms. Right?

If you subscribe to the idea of cause and effect, every cause is an effect, and every effect is a cause. Like the old mythological riddle goes, “it’s turtles, all the way down.” There is no beginning and no end – just an endless collection of here and now’s that meet as two ends of a myriad of sticks. And you can’t pick up one end of a stick without also picking up the other end. Every birth has bury it in.

So if you’re going to write something like an autobiography, where does it actually start? With your conception or your live birth? Or does it start with the energy that fuels you, that fueled your parents and their parents, that is simply passed on from generation to generation in one form or another without pause or ceasing? How could you become what you became at birth without whatever your parents were at that time or any previous time in their existence? They didn’t get to where you became a thing just by flipping on a switch, any more than you got to be 50 or 60 years old by blinking your eyes at age 5 and wishing you were a grown-up.

Can you explain the fact that you’re not the same person you were in elementary school using some exact science, or is there invariably (and perhaps unfortunately) no small degree of magic involved? How much mumbo-jumbo is actually required to explain the universe, after all – and doesn’t that inclusion automatically defeat the purpose of rational explanation?

31 MAR 2025

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The Plan It Planet

What does it mean to have a plan? I used to date someone who had scheduled the vacations they wanted and were going to take up to five years in advance. As if in the course of living life, day to day, in the period between then and now, the world and their attitude toward it, their wants and desires, their situation in any way, would not have changed. Like parents who buy a Subaru because they believe it will be the perfect car to pass off to their children when they are of driving age. Never mind that hopefully in the 15 years you own that car that automotive technology will not advance to such a point that your current vehicle will be hopelessly outdated and definitely out of style.

Sure, it makes sense to store your nuts for the winter, so that when that time of your discontent (or retirement or inability to continue working frenetically) inevitably comes that you and yours will have at least a store of protein to consume. But even though we watch our grandparents and parents make that slow decline into autumn, it’s difficult to imagine the scope and breadth of shit you’re going to have to adjust for as you get older. For one thing, despite what you do to delay it, old age, infirmity, and decrepitude are coming. For you, just like everyone else. Regardless of how gentle or fiercely you go into that good night, the darkness is going to get you. It’s just a question of time. And time, of course, is relative. Eihei Dogen, the Japanese Zen master, predated the theories of quantum physics by about 600 years when he suggested that the “passage” of time is imaginary. There is only the current moment, in which (and only in which) all the future and past exist. Time travel is impossible, if only because when you choose a past or future to revisit, whose time is it? You are not the same person you were five minutes ago, let alone when you attended elementary school or who you will be when you grow up and out of it. To suggest otherwise, to imagine yourself the same at 20 as at 50, is to, as Muhammad Ali quipped, “waste 30 years of your life.” Your purpose is to grow, to change. To grow old. To live and die. To borrow a finite amount of energy for a finite time, and then give it back.

You want to make the gods laugh, they say, make a plan. But “they” also say you should live as if you’re going to die tomorrow, but save as if you’re going to live forever. Forever, of course, being an impossible condition outside the controlling principles of cause and effect. In other words, not reality. We struggle to make a meaningful contribution to the world in less than 100 years. How much more difficult, depressing, soul-crushing, and ultimately useless is an infinite lifetime’s worth of failure?

But everybody’s supposed to have a plan, right? Especially, when they look to be doing something we disagree with, they’re supposed to have a Plan B. A backup, a strategy. But if you think about it, there has not been a single, 24-hour period of time for any being that ever existed or will exist where everything has gone the way they wanted or expected it.

So is the answer to let go of expectations? Forget the results and lose yourself in the doing? Maybe. Maybe not. Just like a car will only go so far on a half tank of gas, the human body and mind can only function for a limited number of miles without refueling or checking the engine lights. And preventative maintenance IS a plan, isn’t it? You gotta eat.

Maybe it’s more like a religion – in that EVERY religion, regardless of its number of adherents or how ironclad its promises or doctrine, is always just a single generation from extinction. We are all in that sense merely living from paycheck to paycheck. Even the most tight-fisted billionaire can lose it all in a few minutes on the stock market. It’s unpredictability that puts the living into a life. Otherwise, you might as well be an automaton serving a will greater than yourself with no time off for good behavior.

Honestly, what’s the difference anyway? If there IS a greater or higher purpose or being or driving energy or calling or destination, greater than you, right here and now, how would you recognize it when you saw it? Could you in fact even see it? How can you really come to grips with something truly extrasensory, extraordinary, superhuman?

Would you be able to determine whether that super-something was encouraging you, creating constant roadblocks, or simply laughing its divine ass off?

If you could interpret the language of the gods, could you then easily slip back into the linga franca of humanity, of mere mortal communication? Or would you be, like someone who is able to distinguish the fabric and meter of the universe while high on LSD, unable to translate your all-absorbing experience in the land and speech of the trip into your common, ordinary, mundane and altogether boring mother tongue?

Ultimately, does it really matter whether you have a solid plan? If you’re going to be alive, truly and absolutely alive in this moment, what difference does it matter what has happened, what you imagined you wanted to happen, what might happen, and what is possible? It’s not really like Sherlock Holmes quipped, that once you’ve eliminated the impossible, some part of the possible, no matter how impractical, must be the truth. The Truth, with a capital T, is that anything that can happen does happen. In fact, it’s already happening. Or you wouldn’t be able to think of it, or plan for it, or NOT plan for it.

They teach you in project management that planning is just a spoke in an ever-turning wheel that spins from through initiation through planning to execution, monitoring and closing. Not in big grandiose cycles, but in tiny, easily measurable segments. But keeping up with that rhythm isn’t as easy as it sounds. Far from it. The trick, if there is a trick at all – because a “trick” requires you to be a separate observer who thinks if they watch closely enough they can see the “secret” mechanics for how the master magician achieves their sleight of hand. Learning the trick means a denial of all magic altogether – including that magic that right now is considered science and therefore physiologically, psychologically, and metaphysically not only possible, but predictable. No the secret to the project cycle is that everything is infinitely small. So infinite, in fact, that it is finite. But measuring, as Sri Ramakrishna pointed out, is itself a tricky business. We are all just dolls made out of salt, who think by wandering out into the ocean we can accurately measure its salinity.

03 MAR 2025

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No Time to Lose

There is no time to lose, I want to say;
what difference can be made must be right now.
Despite a sense of overwhelming odds,
each inch of progress changes the whole world.

When we begin to try, the fulcrum shifts,
and what was once impossible is not;
in place of pale excuses why we can’t,
imagine that it is already done.

Who says there is no point in pressing on?
Ignore those whispers from beyond the edge.
Let others take the easy path ahead;
what is worth doing will take all your strength.

Look down; your feet are both there on the path.
One step, and then another, ‘til it’s done.

24 MAR 2025

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Idiocracy

In a post-truth world
the art of lying is lost;
no one’s good at it.
It takes imagination
and some creativity.

In a post truth world,
there’s no need for flattery;
why bother with it?
You can simply fake the facts
and seem like a real genius.

In a post truth world
no news isn’t just good news,
but it’s not real news.
What difference can it make
when no one is listening?

19 FEB 2025

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Emptiness

Our entire lifetime:
a short line drawn in water;
soon nothing remains.
It doesn’t matter what ink
or how much pressure you use.

What seems important
doesn’t leave an impression
in time’s vast ocean.
Each of us is a mirage;
Not even wetness is real.

17 FEB 2025

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