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Dear Neighbors

Dear neighbors,

I realize we have not met,
other than the guy next door
but that doesn’t really count
cause that was just to put up a fence between us,
and I have met Marvelously Mad Mike,
behind me, on the River,
but primarily because I could not run away fast enough.

Regardless,
I want to invite you over
for kind of a potluck neighborhood open house party.

Just come as you happen to be at the moment,
bring something to drink
and, oh yes,
something to eat that you would consider politically and economically
and, oh yes,
nutritionally correct.

But not to worry,
we will have political correctness exams
at the front door,
prior to gaining admission,
unless you would like that of course,
in which case
perhaps I should mention,
so as not to become justly accused of hidden agendas,
I would prefer to disclose
a politically correct completely open agenda,
and that probably goes for your porky political
and/or porkless spiritual beliefs too.

If you want to talk about how I really should get myself Born Again,
if only for the life insurance values,
I will almost certainly agree
that I hope to dream deep rich baptisms of fire
and rain
and wind every night
to be reborn again each morning,
except on those too-rare occasions
when I could theoretically have baptized myself
in erotic dreams
to awake feeling less reborn,
more uncompleted,
heuristically speaking,
of course.

Nor would I drop a jaw
were you to explain to me
why I should aspire to transcendent mysticism,
the rather imprecise feedback
I get from my defiant kids
right after they rob me blind
or lie to me as if I were senseless
and preferably more transcendent
and mysteriously preoccupied with larger issues
of climatic change
in Great Political-Economic Scientific-EcoTherapeutic Transition,
and not so much
these smaller political and economic
most uncooperative and unmindful transactions.

Lest you fear I may have some hidden political,
or, god forbid,
some cultish religious-fundamentalist agenda,
rather than a party smorgasbord
and self-entertainment and -governance menu,
with issues that march along
some more Traditionally Orthodox Party Line,
perhaps scripture lessons on how to invest heart beats
and wise inhale-exhale breaths of bicameral mindfulness,
allow me to expose
my polypathic proclivities as a Taoist-Christian.

This T-C is a hybrid line,
somewhat like U-U,
which is, for some weird regenetic reason,
also dialectically like dipolar U-C nutritional health balance,
going back to both Eastern and Western shamans.

So, nothing is supposed to surprise us
except the absence of bad news,
and even then
we are not to let on,
pretending that we have been predicting this,
the continuing advent of good TaoBalancing news all along,
sort of permaculturally,
but usually,
and preferably,
only to those who would be most certain
not to take us seriously,
too deeply,
too unliterally,
too radically through fundamentally fractally,
so long as they treat us as shamans
and not the more totally insane polypaths,
terrorized by emerging voices of climatic anger
and silos of echoing foggy fears
about ego’s future emptiness,
absence of life-becoming.

So, not to worry,
Taoist lies before the hyphenatic Christian,
meaning Radical Revolutionary Christian.
We are so radically revolutionary
that we believe Christianity should declare its mission statement
as 100% self-perpetuatingly regeneratively replete,
and now move on to more globally optimizing multicultural issues,
like investing in more cooperatively nutritious politics
and active-cooperative-invested economic choices,
more teleologically ecologically bicamerally informed
by sacred-humane nondual TaoBalance
YangLeftHealthyNature-YinRightSpiritBiLateralLight.

Tao Loving Christians are so radically revolutionary
we believe good nature is always nutritionally kind
and we don’t believe we should even (0)-sum ego-exist.
So, not to worry,
no evangelical intentions are allowed by Yin,
much as Yang would love to love you to death
with the LeftBrain Wisdom
of multicultural truths
as harmonic fractal-crystal beauty
of econconsciousness in fertile-octave light bilateral-cross-messianic frequencies.

Just come as you are
in your own light
with whomever you happen to have
hanging around at the moment you finish reading this.

Feel free to bring your pets
and any tools you might have to share,
or just a list would be fine,
and I’m wondering if we want to exchange email addresses,
so there will be a sign-in sheet for those who want to include that,
and those who don’t,
and please check off if you might be interested in collaborative gardening
this next spring coming up.

And if you or any of your accompanying tribe
has any skills or talents,
songs, dances, readings,
stories, drums,
other musical instruments,
except maybe not a tuba
because I’m just not that musically evolved
and I realize you could not laugh with me
while playing your foghorn of a tuba,
bring anyone or anything except a monopolistic tuba,
which really isn’t a party instrument anyway,
for our cooperative skills and talent show.

Stay as long as we all like,
and can afford to live together.
I’m sure we have much to co-invest and celebrate about.

OK, you can bring that damned tuba, if you must.
Maybe I am being invited to evolve in some foghorn kind of way.

With gratitude.

G.O.D.

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