Human Person: The Integer of Truth

Pondering yesterday's essay it occurs to me how pernicious are the scientific dogmas which in some manner or other decompose the act of perception into so-called discrete wavelengths or any other discreta. This is not only bad poetry but it also vilifies the human bearer of truth.

I might have learned this from reading Dostoevsky. If the initial guarantor or evidence of truth is not the living contact and encounter that each person enjoys with reality, then it can never be  grasped ex post facto through facts, or evidence or any other sort of science!

What scientists of all stripes take for granted is that it the human eye or ear or perceptual act which guarantees whatever digital or discrete data may accrue. Yes, the Hubble telescope renders data in digital quanta---however, the telescope does not "see" anything if must be rendered to the biped mammal truth-bearer. This principle can be universalized---With regards to the material universe here can be no truth that is not ultimately verified by a human person.

Thus the starting-point of science is the perceptual truth---now what must ensue in order that the human act of perception deliver truth? What must be the case, a priori, for there to be truth at all? The truth must be for a someone! A someone is a human person. What is the basis for this contact with truth? That the human person be capable of bearing truth and that things be true.  2 essential ingredients: the human person as integer of truth and the universe as truthful in its being.

Both of these poles must be held in tension for the phenomenon of truth to be possible. The 'bridge' is the soul. That God exists is self-evident. Above and beyond the two poles: the one for whom truth is and being as true, there is no other Thing! And yet, the way to truth disintegrates as the burden of proof for truth is placed upon either pole! Both fallacious ways are errors that science takes. Only a philosophy based upon psychological Realism such as I am describing can account for truth adequately.

Truth must be and it must be for someone! If this is not the case then the point of pursuing science is moot altogether! (There is a scenario where science proceeds altogether in violation of truth as portrayed in the Matrix or Plato's cave.) Science is pursued because of an attempt to secure a truthful account of things or being in some particular sense. A culture governed by a science devoid of truth such as Orwell depicts in 1984 may be possible but it is not desirable.

Evenso, if one assumes the current quantum mechanics interpretation of physical reality---the view that states that there are manifold levels of energy which cannot be detected in human perception and that of all of the possible truth to be conveyed by light, the human perceiver is only getting a sliver of nanometers---hence, by default there is an enormous amount of stuff out there that in principle cannot be known save for perfectible pursuit of scientific equipment which will render evermore of these myterious nanoworlds to the diligent scientist.

Here is the realist view: I look out the window, I see an Arbor Vita tree in my lawn---to see? Yes, to have seen and encountered the truth of the bush in the true perception of my visual act. And beyond this----? That's it folks!!!

Now I will concede reason wants to figure out this state of affairs as if it were some sort of puzzle. So in order to satisfy reason I allow my mind to proceed interrogatively. So, how is it that the Arbor Vita is there and how is it that I am here and how is it that both of these hang together? The first act of reason is philosophical and interrogative. The account which renders optimally the answer to this triad of questions is the best account.

The only account of reality which guarantees and "saves" truth for human persons in principle is the Gospel. It is the son of God which saves the truth for the integral human person and guarantees the human ability to bear truth. It is the truth of creation which guarantees the truth of the being of the universe.

Now it is clear why the reductive, and analytic 'scientific' account of human perception and action is flawed and pernicious. Each one of these violates the harmony of the person and the person's world which the soul alone bridges.

I look out the window and I see the bush. My act of seeing delivers truth, and I am in the truth insofar as I acknowledge this harmony, in other words to live in my soul. The contemporary undergraduate who studies perceptual psychology 101 gets this account instead:
a) the person may or may not exist, all we know for sure is that that perception is finite, can be measured and analyzed. b)the universe may or may not be true c)the soul has not been discussed in psychology (to quote the Eagles): "We haven't had that spirit here since 1969." and finally d). God may or may not exist.

Now taking such skepticism at face value I ask what guarantees truth? It is not the person rendered scientifically, it is not the universe, it is not the soul and it is not God. Truth may or may not exist in the scientific account, it is through and through skeptical!

But reality is not like this! Truth either is or is not. If it is then it is on account of the human truth bearer, and the ensemble of circumstances (true being, soul, and God) which particpate in its possibility. If it is not then science is futile, religion is futile, business and economy is futile. In short human existence is futile! This is the Underground Man's antheap---Harvard's professor EO Wilson beloved ants become the most successful species---not man!

That this is not the case is proved by the fact that you stop at the red light, that you continue to go on eating, that you do not strip naked and dive into the subfrost river!! You conduct yourself in a reasonable human manner because deep down you believe that human life is worth living. This spark of human truth drives you to go on existing. The only reason you dear reader are not in full possession of the truth is that you have parlayed your soul in an exchange for earthly comfort and ease which the scientific view provides. You are a comfortable citizen in this empire of scientific reason---after all, it gives one the chance to have regular check-ups at the doctor and to have your blood chemically analyzed. When the state gets better you will be able to have your blood analyzed for free thanks to the great economy! You will trust your Audi to deliver safety to your drive. Oh! the benefits of the scientific society are unending! Only one thing sears your conscience---that you had to deny your true soul and being in the truth to participate in this worldly kingdom and go along with the scientific dogmas. 

"When did I do this?" you ask. To this I answer: "When first you denied your perception to your parents, schoolteachers and professors, and allowed them to teach you how to explain what you see! (Parallels to Serpent's promise in the Garden!)

Pondering Light: Impenetrable

Some random thoughts on the visible:
Vision, according to Aristotle is the 'highest' ---most spiritual sense. Attempts at explaining this sense, and its act are quite difficult for me to grasp. The viewpoint of Robt. Archer Smith is also very imponderable and yet vision provides me with no end of wonder and questionability!

What strikes me as ludicrous are contemporary psychological theories of light---the kind of thing I studied at university as an undergraduate. At the time I presumed to have learned something about the 'psychology of light' when I studied the textbook, and passed the exams. To be honest this kind of bookish learning has nothing to do with authentic understanding of the phenomenon. Never once did we experiment with the phenomenon or empirical fact of light---all was discussed hypothetically, speculatively. I can grasp now that such "learning" is a sleight of hand.

It has the wonderful effect of giving hundreds of thousands of educated people the sense that they have grasped something about light (the same goes for acoustics and motion). Such an effect has a beneficial quality for the government, giving the sense that there is an objective science  of vision and light---that such things are in principle graspable by at least the authors of the texts and the profs who lecture on these subjects. 

However, effect is all it is! When I honestly ponder the truth about light and vision, I must confess to ignorance and the difficulty of its grasp. Reading treatises are of no help whatsoever for the sleight of hand renders the wonderfully mysterious phenomenon (color-light) into pieces of a theory, each one finitely graspable. Now all of these added up are supposed to bring about an understanding of the phenomenon. The social-educative praxis based upon intellectual pride, social conformity and deceit (i.e. the American University education in toto.) confers degrees not for the amount of natural phenomena actually grasped and understood, i.e. truth, but for the effective handling of the text, lectures and exams in such a way that the proper GPA is achieved. Truth and actual understanding are bypassed entirely by sleight of hand.

Such a praxis is effective for governing and ruling over citizens who have been granted degrees for knowledge which they presume to possess. It produces a consistent theoretical framework in which to conduct science, industry, education and business. It is much more effective to operate upon a coherent, commonly held ignorance, than to admit that each individual faces imponderable mysteries such as light, color and vision which are experienced as true without the foggiest clue of how to explain the truth of these phenomena. And yet, each individual, if honest, would admit that his or her experience of light phenomena is indelibly true fact. But how rarely does this individual with their own personally held experiential truth muster the courage to join Socrates in declaring the wisdom of their ignorance (that is commonly held 'doxa' or culturally accepted "truths")? Without this commonly held ignorance it would not be easy to govern, in fact the nation-state would not survive. Ironically the natural state of human beings in ignorance without the pretension to learning is the best manner of government, which never rises to the behemoth scale of the nation-state, laden with its certain "scientific" dogma. Scale is preserved by the "learned ignorance" in other words, the perpetual sense of humility and intellectual humiliation in the face of wonder and the experience of truth. Such praxis of gigantism in economy and transport is only achievable upon a de facto achievement of institutional ignorance and dogma which the modern university effectively governs! What a paradox.   

More Mike Oldfield

Tubular Bells II Documentary

BBC Production:Story of Tubular Bells

Man on the Rocks by Mike Oldfield

Mike Oldfield's New Rock Album

Song of November

Let me sing a song of November

the chilly dream that Winter wakes

October's leafy pageant

the steely wind shakes

from the clattering sky

littering the brown field

when black birds solemnly fly.

The pastel flowers have floated down September's streams like prayer flags flying 

The triumphant cry of the year!

Against the western winds laying down their fair share of grief

before Winter steals the color of this dream/

Dusty pink petals swirl and rise never to fall or die.

Bronze bells clang harmony in the distance as if to amuse me

What angel hovers there?

What death dance keeps me turning 

What new melody am I learning?

Song of November arises in my mind

echoing ancient battles of yellows and greens

of Summer's grip and before it Spring’s.

I am the wind to tousle your hair

I am fire orange and billowing

I am water

I am the moon

I am the dream when the dreamer wakes

You cannot see me/cannot hear me.

I am the stone and soil

you kick me underfoot.

You never knew me/

never held me at all.

Now alone you sing my song

and stand baffled by its sombre chords

though the words speak clearly

of this day and filter the sand into the hourglass.

Mountains rise and mountains fall

your mind gathers focus then crumbles to a stall

gazing into the mirror the mirror cannot lie

You see your original face without darkness

I am not lying.

Morning comes and morning goes as the broken leaves into the cold torrent's flow

you reach outside/feel the stinging breeze.

The wind tousles back your autumn hair

I come rushing into the air

you catch me in one powerful try

As I tumble into the corner of your eye.

Pale moon hides in her cloudy bed

and fire steals the night

My stream wends in fright an uneven way---

into the neverending poem at the heart of this day!

"All passes away yet God smiles and waves a banner of serenity---

Lord, You hold all of the cards we play

and yet I would beg you to play this hand in another way."

"god" particle-Higgs-Boson found to be " a little more complicated" than the physicists had originally imagined :)

Forbes Article on Higgs-Boson Particle

To those serious inquirers who would know the fundament of light and gravity please see:
Robert Archer Smith's Physics of Light

Photography: Link to Pennsylvania Landscapes

Link to Pennsylavania Landscapes

Beauty: The Realist Take

"In the psychology of the Victorines, the joy felt in experiencing sensuous harmony was a prolongation of physical pleasure [ital. mine]; it was rooted in the affective life and grounded in an ontologically real correspondence between the structure of the mind and the structure of matter." Umberto Eco Art and Beauty in the Middle Ages

Link to Zoosophy Blog

Link: Zoosophy

Link to 1000 Finger'd World

1000 Finger'd World

New Link at Teafroth

Link to Teafroth

New Post on Sovieta Blog

Link to Sovieta Blog

New Post on Beautiful Day Today

Link to Beautiful Day Today

Thomas Merton Blog: Father Louis

Father Louis (Thomas Merton Blog)

New Essay (click on link below)

How Did We Get Here From There?

What does it mean 'To Know'?

I have been thinking about what 'to know' really means---hence, what true knowledge consists in. To know ('oida': Gk) in Greek the term 'oida' is cognate with 'to see'. In shorthand to see is to know. In fact the vernacular use of seeing as knowing is quite commonly understood. Now imagine you come upon a tick sucking blood (as pictured below). One sees that the tick sucks blood it engorges but one does not know how the tick sucks blood. One knows that the tick sucks blood, in fact one knows how the tick sucks blood. 

But this is not how we teach our young scientists to proceed! We refer to a pentasyllabic word 'hematophagy' invented to describe the blood sucking mechanism. Or we turn to Wikipedia:
Wikipedia: Hematophagy

Presumably one gains a verbal access to explaining the phenomenon under discussion, presumably one better understands, even better 'knows' the phenomenon! This confused sense of knowledge and knowing, separate from seeing is what I deem as the greatest intellectual conundrums of our era.

Let us review the order of the phenomenon---one sees the tick exploded 10x its body size on the back of an innocent dog, in seeing the tick one knows that the tick sucks blood but presumes that one does not know how this little varmint does it! So one asks the question and then proceeds to use the cultural viable means of answering the question---one proceeds 'scientifically'. One refers to books, encyclopedia, Wikipedia, one asks an "expert". Like receiving a diagnosis for a mysterious symptom, the questioner is satisfied to learn that this an example of biological 'hematophagy'---the questioning mind is able to rest.

However, one should note that this is 'sleight of hand'---no understanding has been achieved in the acquisition of the pentasyllabic term! No new knowledge is obtained with the acquisition of this term. As a matter of fact, when one sees that the tick sucks blood, one knows how the tick sucks blood. In knowing that the tick sucks blood, one knows how the tick sucks blood. And this holds true with every other phenomenon!

In knowing that, one knows how. In seeing that such and such occurs, one knows how such and such occurs!

Therefore we must ask, since almost all of what we call knowing depends upon seeking expert diagnoses, and explanations, Wikipedia, and five-syllabled terms---which actually adds no new understanding to the phenomenon grasped, what is the status with regards to truth, concerning all of this so-called knowledge? One thing is for certain, the original grasp of the phenomenon which proceeds individually and by power of one's own eyesight, is routinely downgraded as a source of knowledge, whereas the move to downplay one's own true vision and knowledge is bypassed for a theory of knowledge which depends upon so-called "experts"---a kind of totalitarian-fascist way of knowing, if you ask me!

Philosophical Essay: John-Paul II

Fides et Ratio

I'll Keep it With Mine (b. Dylan) performed by Fairport Convention

Fairport Convention

Andrea Valeri: Sultans of Swing

Flamenco Interpretation of Knopfler's Magic

Mark Knopfler: Sultans of Swing

Unrivalled Guitar Mastery

Better to Live as a Dog....

“May you live in interesting times" is an English expression purporting to be a translation of a traditional Chinese curse. Despite being so common in English as to be known as "the Chinese curse", the saying is apocryphal and no actual Chinese source has ever been produced.^[1] The nearest relatedChinese expression is "宁为太平犬，莫做乱世人" (níng wéi tàipíng quǎn, mò zuò luànshì rén) which conveys the sense that it is "better to live as a dog in an era of peace than a man in times of war."

God Only Knows---BBC Production October 2014

One thing we can safely say about the New World Order: when the fashionistas and culture czars of the NWO put their heads together and decide to bestow a platinum candy nugget on the world as with this non-disappointing re-make of Brian Wilson's "God Only Knows"---the enormity of the canvas and (I suspect) the recording bill, allows the faithful denizens the whole world over to soak in the luxuriance unmatched since the Rococco while admiring not only the acoustic fanfare and chamber pomp but also the colorful vignettes which populate the theatrical in an unprecedented delivery of the authentic intention of Brian Wilson's mammoth pop beauty. God only knows why Paul McCartney and David Bowie failed to show up for this unparalleled masterpiece in the history of pop music recording.
God Only Knows BBC Production

A New Poem (lyric)-Written in Summer 2014

I ponder as I wander
and wonder at this day---
this jewel, this yellow flower, this puffy bumblebee!

My eyes, full wide awake
in the center of the day;
I am awake in the darkest night
when the stars all fade away.

I don't know when the weekend ends,
I don't know why the river bends,
I don't know how many lives I've spent,
How many yet to come...
I'll meet you at the journey's end,
at the final door,
I'll be there my friend.

Each moment amazes me,
each hour of everyday,
though the world beats faster than a drum.

I don't know how many roads I've gone,
how many yet to come
the world spins fast as a whip
but this moment lingers on.

Amazing Grateful Dead Video

Touch of Grey

Google Places Security Guards in Its Silicon Valley Offices

This post is actually more of an 'apocalypse illustrated' story but I thought I would post it here:

Google Adds Security Guards

Everything is upside down in the US---it is a "cockamamy world"----it's like you introduce the word 'security' and everyone acts like chickens with their heads cut off. So for all of the orthodox capitalist believers I have a question---how is security good for bottom line? How is it good to pay someone to DO NOTHING which cannot possibly 'create wealth'?

One is reminded of Ben Franklin's famous saying; 'those who would exchange liberty for security will have (deserve) neither!"
At the current rate of the growth of the police state and its consequent militarization, pretty soon everyone will be a security guard, then every citizen can arrest every other citizen and lock up the prison on the history of the USA. The doctors, lawyers and ministers of course can stand by rejoicing because they have the hegemony that has always been their guiding goal. The one per centers (one percenters ought not to be considered citizens as their allegiance is to mammon) will rejoice to get the low-bred laborers into a more controllable environment and of course, the White House and the senate can finally fulfill their promises to the New World Order, to package and deliver the US populace all of a piece for the Pharoah-ic enterprise of completing the destruction of the earth. Not bad work for a couple of presidential administrations since W and O have utterly devastated the last traces of Sovereignty in the US---great job---all hail to the chiefs! The world has lost its marbles!!

Since I coined the term 'crunchkin' more than 20 years ago...

I wanted to note that the term 'crunchkin' has been getting a lot of different uses as a search on Google demonstrates! To wit: crunchkin as edible pet greetings, pumpkin seeds, crunch cards, Nestle crunchkins, crunchkin crew puppets, et aliud Since I never took out a copyright, theses players are legally safe in using the term and I am pleased as I had hoped that the term would have a good life! Intellectual property is a leprosy upon artistic and intellectual life and has rendered the artist or thinker a kind of slave or prostitute, selling what they never owned, claiming to possess what was freely given to them in inspiration and of course it enlarges the ignoble domain of the lawyers practice, another scab upon cultural life that festers and won't heal!


Google Search: Crunchkin

New World Order (tm.) Firewheel Production

Added some new verses to this old topical tune!

New World Order (Peter Wolf)

presto

Am-C-G-D

Am-C-E

Am-C-G-D

Am-E-Am

Am-E-Am

refrain: (largo-dreamily)Em-A (x2) Am7-D (x2) Em-A (x2)

v.1

The G8 Summit was really great, you know 

IN GOD WE TRUST

Beyonce

The Illuminati

You follow whomever you must

In the New World Order

In the NWO

v2.

Evacuation schemes, corporate dreams, 

we’re too big too fail

Debt Ceiling oh what a feeling!

Like a puppy chasin his tail 

IN the New World Order

It’s a NWO

v3

We’ve got the NPR and the BBC

Michelle Obama is la-ti-dee

but your taxes are going to pay for our penalty

in the New World Order

It’s a N.W.O.

refrain

Cold call in the middle of the Night

Are you feelin’ a lil uptight?

We gonna save you

but first we must enslave you...

Cold Call in the middle of the Night

Are you feelin a little uptight? (ritard) (a tempo)

instrumental verses and solo

v.4

Play Good cop/Bad cop

Either way we win

Been that way since I don’t know when

ISIS Ebola 

It’s an Idiot Wind blowing 

In the New World Order

v.

The idle mind is the devil’s workshop

our sacred mission is to make your mind stop

Wait the president’s calling me up 

into a New World Order

It’s a New World Order

refrain

and instrumental verse outro. 

Plus, check out this earlier version video from 2012:
New World Order (2012)

Ameritopia by Mark Levin

Read Chapter One of Ameritopia

How Can I Tell You? (live)

Cat Stevens Live

Bob Dylan Live: It Takes a Train

Check out Mr. Dylan's guitar Work on This Video

Review of Dylan's 8-28-2014 Show in Australia

Bob Dylan: Hot August Night

Lyrics to Carribean Wind

She was the rose of Sharon from paradise lost
From the city of seven hills near the place of the cross
I was playing a show in Miami in the theater of divine comedy
Told about Jesus, told about the rain
She told me about the jungle where her brothers were slain
By a man who danced on the roof of the embassy

Was she a child or a woman, I can’t say which
From one to another she could easily switch
We went into the wall to where the long arm of the law could not reach
Could I been used and played as a pawn?
It certainly was possible as the gay night wore on
Where men bathed in perfume and celebrated free speech

And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire

She looked into my soul through the clothes that I wore
She said, “We got a mutual friend over by the door
And you know he’s got our best interest in mind”
He was well connected but her heart was a snare
And she had left him to die in there
There were payments due and he was a little behind

The cry of the peacock, flies buzz my head
Ceiling fan broken, there’s a heat in my bed
Street band playing “Nearer My God to Thee”
We met at the steeple where the mission bells ring
She said, “I know what you’re thinking, but there ain’t a thing
You can do about it, so let us just agree to agree”

And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire

Atlantic City by the cold grey sea
I hear a voice crying, “Daddy,” I always think it’s for me
But it’s only the silence in the buttermilk hills that call
Every new messenger brings evil report
’Bout armies on the march and time that is short
And famines and earthquakes and hatred written upon walls

Would I have married her? I don’t know, I suppose
She had bells in her braids and they hung to her toes
But I kept hearing my name and had to be movin’ on
I saw screws break loose, saw the devil pound tin
I saw a house in the country being torn from within
I heard my ancestors calling from the land far beyond

And them Caribbean winds still blow from Nassau to Mexico
Fanning the flames in the furnace of desire
And them distant ships of liberty on them iron waves so bold and free
Bringing everything that’s near to me nearer to the fire

Copyright © 1985 by Special Rider Music

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us#ixzz3BnBMZPzx

Lyrics to Up to Me

Everything went from bad to worse, money never changed a thing
Death kept followin’, trackin’ us down, at least I heard your bluebird sing
Now somebody’s got to show their hand, time is an enemy
I know you’re long gone, I guess it must be up to me

If I’d thought about it I never would’ve done it, I guess I would’ve let it slide
If I’d lived my life by what others were thinkin’, the heart inside me would’ve died
I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by enforced insanity
Someone had to reach for the risin’ star, I guess it was up to me

Oh, the Union Central is pullin’ out and the orchids are in bloom
I’ve only got me one good shirt left and it smells of stale perfume
In fourteen months I’ve only smiled once and I didn’t do it consciously
Somebody’s got to find your trail, I guess it must be up to me

It was like a revelation when you betrayed me with your touch
I’d just about convinced myself that nothin’ had changed that much
The old Rounder in the iron mask slipped me the master key
Somebody had to unlock your heart, he said it was up to me

Well, I watched you slowly disappear down into the officers’ club
I would’ve followed you in the door but I didn’t have a ticket stub
So I waited all night ’til the break of day, hopin’ one of us could get free
When the dawn came over the river bridge, I knew it was up to me

Oh, the only decent thing I did when I worked as a postal clerk
Was to haul your picture down off the wall near the cage where I used to work
Was I a fool or not to try to protect your identity?
You looked a little burned out, my friend, I thought it might be up to me

Well, I met somebody face to face and I had to remove my hat
She’s everything I need and love but I can’t be swayed by that
It frightens me, the awful truth of how sweet life can be
But she ain’t a-gonna make me move, I guess it must be up to me

We heard the Sermon on the Mount and I knew it was too complex
It didn’t amount to anything more than what the broken glass reflects
When you bite off more than you can chew you pay the penalty
Somebody’s got to tell the tale, I guess it must be up to me

Well, Dupree came in pimpin’ tonight to the Thunderbird Café
Crystal wanted to talk to him, I had to look the other way
Well, I just can’t rest without you, love, I need your company
But you ain’t a-gonna cross the line, I guess it must be up to me

There’s a note left in the bottle, you can give it to Estelle
She’s the one you been wond’rin’ about, but there’s really nothin’ much to tell
We both heard voices for a while, now the rest is history
Somebody’s got to cry some tears, I guess it must be up to me

So go on, boys, and play your hands, life is a pantomime
The ringleaders from the county seat say you don’t have all that much time
And the girl with me behind the shades, she ain’t my property
One of us has got to hit the road, I guess it must be up to me

And if we never meet again, baby, remember me
How my lone guitar played sweet for you that old-time melody
And the harmonica around my neck, I blew it for you, free
No one else could play that tune, you know it was up to me

Copyright © 1974 by Ram's Horn Music; renewed 2002 by Ram’s Horn Music

Read more: http://www.bobdylan.com/us#ixzz3BnBjWzyv

Police Brutality offends All Citizens

Police Killing citizens Undermines Justice in USA

President Obama: Please Take A Stand!

President Obama and Eric Holder Conspire

Come out for once and speak it like a man: say that the police shooting of Michael Brown was immoral, and require that appropriate action be taken against the police department in Ferguson, Missouri. Stop taking opinion polls to determine the will of the people. Supporters of the officer who shot Brown are wrong. If the president for once would take a stand and make a clear, irrevocable, black and white stance, the furor would subside!

More Moodies

Youtube Video: The Story in Your Eyes

Listening to this, all I can think is what genius! What a great band, I suspect along with the Beatles, for me, the Moody Blues, the very best... And, thanks to Alan Kleiner who officially turned me onto these guys---Can never get enough of this great music.

USA Today---Textbook spin on Michael Brown Murder (Ferguson, Missouri)

Textbook Example of Spin and Dissimulation

What's wrong with this picture? No. 2318

Can you spot the fallacy and deceit in this USA Today article?
Since when do Facebook "likes" constitute support for anything?

The bottomline of the spin here is that there is support for the officer who murdered Michael Brown---because of Facebook "likes"! How utterly amateur.

Facebook likes cannot count as support or protest for anything.
#1. The number of likes cannot be independently verified.
#2. A virtual support or protest is as good as nothing compares to a real protest.
etc., etc.

The obvious takeaway from the article is that there is support for the officer who murdered young Mr. Brown. Who stands to benefit from this appraisal of the scenario? Who funded this story Mr. Rupert Murdoch? Instead of citing any real evidence of support USA Today claims that Facebooks "likes" count as 'support'---consider how much true existential courage is required to click a "like" button---what's the conversion to real flesh and blood supporters? Let me quess about 30, ooo "like" clicks equal one honest protester in the face of immoral and unethical acts of police brutality and state and national stormtrooping techniques to suppress the honest citizens democratic right to free assembly and critique of the sub-human practices of the police state.

That is beside the point since the headline news of USA Today is  bought with money---so I ask again: who stands to gain from this textbook example of spin?

London is Behind Me (Justin Hayward)

Moody Blues Mystery

Thinking is the Best Way to Travel

Classic 7 Moody Blues: Speeding through the universe, thinking is the best way to travel....Mike Pinder

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZoYbGPO_KKs

This song penetrates deeply into my memory from the LP In Search of the Lost Chord---I will go on the record to say that in my opinion, albeit worth piddles, The Moody Blues are the most philosophical band. At least until The Clientele! Pleez, I am seri-o-so, the Moodies delivered to me in my youth, the following: serious orchestral musical harmony (Days of Future Passed, On the Threshold of a Dream)----What does this mean? Days of future passed? Serious Augustinian wisdom, right? It's just pop music, relax!

Please Visit Newest Blog in Scriptor Domain!

Tibetan Phenomenology

Water has Memory!

Water Memory

Indigo Girls

Indigo Girls on Letterman--1991

Essay on Philosophical Perceptual Realism No. 124

How Did We Get from There to Here?

Walter Friedrich Otto

Otto's Work

Sodom and Gomorrah: Inside the Beltway

Sodom and Gomorrah

Revelation: Illuminated Manuscript

Illuminated Manuscript

God is Being, God is Love

Click to God is Being, God is Love

Plotinus' Tractate 'On Intellectual Beauty'

Plotinus On Intellectual Beauty

MUSINGS:JULY 4, 2014

+I am good with the word 'musing'---its cognate is 'muse'--greek: musikos, or 'mousaios'---of or pertaining to inspiration of the MUSE or muses! MUSE: WIKIPEDIA LINK

Who then is 'musikos' or musical in the current regime where muses are no longer believed in or considered 'real'? Tough question!

Cap'n CRUNCH

Crunch you must be kidding.

Throw in the towel, at this point in the game?

Come on you stormtrooping breakfast hero

You mystical mariner…

Has your heart gone to rust

To insult the eager-eyed kids who revere you?

No, not another word, or syllable of cowardice…

Cap’n O Cap’n

You crispy-eyed captain sailing cold milky mornings

At the bottom of my bowl.

Tousle haired ancient

You owe it to America

You woolen capped warrior…

Mrs. Crunch you say family duty and kids in college

Well upon us all a little rain must fall but

They are counting on your

Longstanding crunch

Against the onslaught of white winds

Whole vitamin D pounding and

Torrential skim pummeling

O Cap’n how you shine

Through torrential pourings never drowning

Of your buoyancy we do sing!

So let me remind you dusted hero

That we supplied you with one sacred mission

AND THAT IS TO REPORT TO DUTYEVERY MORNING ON MY BREAKFAST TABLE

With the Lieutenant Orange, and the crispy toast

So if you have any PROBLEMS WITH THAT

You better take it up to the admiralty

But do not

Don’t let me ever hear you speak of throwing in the towel again!

You white bearded champion

Don McLean: Prime Time

Link to Prime Time

Reverend Peter McGuire Wolf, First Nation Ministry Certification

Having received my ordination certificate from First Nation Ministry I am now equipped to to perform the marriage ceremony of my niece!

Whitman's 'Specimen Days'

THE WEATHER. -- DOES IT SYMPATHIZE
WITH THESE TIMES?

   Whether the rains, the heat and cold, and what underlies them all, are affected with what affects man in masses, and follow his play of passionate action, strain'd stronger than usual, and on a larger scale than usual -- whether this, or no, it is certain that there is now, and has been for twenty months or more, on this American continent north, many a remarkable, many an unprecedented expression of the subtile world of air above us and around us. There, since this war, and the wide and deep national agitation, strange analogies, different combinations, a different sunlight, or absence of it; different 

-760-

products even out of the ground. After every great battle, a great storm. Even civic events the same. On Saturday last, a forenoon like whirling demons, dark, with slanting rain, full of rage; and then the afternoon, so calm, so bathed with flooding splendor from heaven's most excellent sun, with atmosphere of sweetness; so clear, it show'd the stars, long, long before they were due. As the President came out on the capitol portico, a curious little white cloud, the only one in that part of the sky, appear'd like a hovering bird, right over him.

   Indeed, the heavens, the elements, all the meteorological influences, have run riot for weeks past. Such caprices, abruptest alternation of frowns and beauty, I never knew. It is a common remark that (as last summer was different in its spells of intense heat from any preceding it,) the winter just completed has been without parallel. It has remain'd so down to the hour I am writing. Much of the daytime of the past month was sulky, with leaden heaviness, fog, interstices of bitter cold, and some insane storms. But there have been samples of another description. Nor earth nor sky ever knew spectacles of superber beauty than some of the nights lately here. The western star, Venus, in the earlier hours of evening, has never been so large, so clear; it seems as if it told something, as if it held rapport indulgent with humanity, with us Americans. Five or six nights since, it hung close by the moon, then a little past its first quarter. The star was wonderful, the moon like a young mother. The sky, dark blue, the transparent night, the planets, the moderate west wind, the elastic temperature, the miracle of that great star, and the young and swelling moon swimming in the west, suffused the soul. Then I heard, slow and clear, the deliberate notes of a bugle come up out of the silence, sounding so good through the night's mystery, no hurry, but firm and faithful, floating along, rising, falling leisurely, with here and there a long-drawn note; the bugle, well play'd, sounding tattoo, in one of the army hospitals near here, where the wounded (some of them personally so dear to me,) are lying in their cots, and many a sick boy come down to the war from Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, and the rest.