Do not as I have done,
had some fun
gotta run.
live no pun
on evil backward gone…
Tag Archives: humor
The Unfortunate Press Release
The not so Great Swami Minister of Health
unleashed a Press Release today.
One member of the O So Commercial Media bothered to show up
and described it as more of an assault, really,
than a release,
more of an appalling mauling than a kiss.
and about truly unpressing fortunate events,
totally unusable
and surprisingly sick
for a minister of unsick.
First, thank you so much for coming,
s/he began,
and going through our not so clearly naked Exit absence of signs
and sighing whistles and untoiling bells.
Life is not death,
unless you prefer it that way
or you are a victim of cruel and unusual private sector neglect
or public sector abuse
or all of the above.
Deep listening before projectile
pressing cathartic releases
does appear to be dying out.
So, in that sense of non-awareness,
healthy life is dying out
of all mass media outlets,
but not to worry,
hardly anyone goes to mass anymore anyway
as it has become a highly toxic environment
for thinking-feeling women
and young non-altar boys in particular.
Yesterday the Bishops of Sacred Right
and Wrong Left Turns
blissfully considered passing out
communion through drive-by shooting windows
on-line,
thereby joining the Unitarians
conjoining virtual RealTime grace
dispensations
for those living
and not invested in dying
which is where I came in
and exited through a rarely sniffed
non-sectarian portal
of multiculturing health,
for ecoministers only,
which seems to leave out the null set,
so you press and more slowly release.
Folks need not even try
to die this Earth-committed way.
We would not like you to appear
as if talking pro-Earth life stances,
cynical nature-glances
lances aimed at health without despair
and non-commercial dying.
While media inlets prefer high numbers,
where the mental health department prefers low,
zero seems a more nondually compromised way to go.
I realize the egomaniacs within us
believe with full integrity
that one is fun,
and rightfully straight,
but please therapeutically recall
zero is radically replete
as enlightenment is to the Sun
Times you cannot and probably should not
evenly try to read backward again.
Press Releasionships make me sweat,
it’s much too warm in the middle of our piles.
So, finally, I problame this New Health Rule
of Lover’s Law:
Thermodynamic balance within
is also without
or we have climatic collapse instead.
That said,
we also are recovering from disturbing compiliance
with whole Black Holes
of communion so deep and dense
every time someone farts
my pantyhose swell out and shout
but that wasn’t me
because I’m your minister of loving health.
That was the Other Guy.
You know, the one whose shadow
falls across your mirror
of not so pressing unreleases.
Thank you so much for coming and going.
Please remember to leave all doors open
on your way into healthier light.
My absence of thought for this night,
as you drift off into your silly place,
sacred space:
Earth has a mind of Her own,
ecosystemically intelligent functional press and release recycles
through seasons of perennial health redevelopment.
And remember childhood is not something to grow out of,
like a pair of too-tight pantyhose,
childhood is something to sustain
while we pretend to care about
not so depressing unreleases
that showed up
to act out
for some other creature
with urgent impress-and-release therapeutic intent.
Grazing the Garden
I retired a couple years ago
and decided to take a gardening class
because otherwise I probably would starve
even with food stamps,
given my retirement plan
was mainly to live off my still-freeloading adult perpetual-children.
This gardening class cost more than it was worth,
so just about exactly what a reasonable person would expect to invest,
except it was taught by a shaman
who called herself not a witch, but a Permacultural Designer,
and said she was even officially Certified as such.
She actually admitted up front
that we too would be certifiable if, along life’s way,
we applied her PermaCulture Principles
of nutritional arts and sciences.
So I planted my first garden
on my new retirement home
about half wooded,
or maybe a third,
actually I have no idea
but I can speak to the prodigious poison ivy.
A few of my seeds actually did not die prematurely
but, due to a series of unfortunate prior pollination events,
overall, the weeds won out
with few exceptions
to the natural law of might makes right evolution.
I thought for a couple of painful minutes
about pulling weeds,
with childhood memories of hoeing the weeds out of my 4-H garden,
but, heh,
I never did better than a red ribbon even with the hoe,
and, in my recently completed gardening class
I had learned the Principle of Greatest Nutritional Effect
with Least Gardening and Landscaping Effort.
I had already efforted the damned seeds into the ground,
so perhaps doing more would be unnecessary,
and besides,
who can kill all that kale anyway,
much less actually eat it.
Well, a couple days later I was mowing the lawn
with my electric quasi-powered push mower
and noticed how festively green and lush the garden looked over that way
so I probably didn’t need to worry so much about watering.
A few days,
or maybe weeks, later,
I went out to see if there were peas or string beans to harvest yet.
I had considerable difficulty finding them.
The surprisingly anemic-looking lines and patches of kale were visible.
As I had suspected,
that stuff will grow where even a self-respecting weed would not root.
Next week I’m gonna try to seed it down the middle of my gravel driveway
to see if I can create an edible boulevard.
Although, not sure what that diesel school bus exhaust will do for the kale.
Probably the kale will suck it all in
and save it for me later.
After all, that’s greatest effect with least effort, right?
Well now it’s late July and I finally see the wisdom of Greatest Nutritional Effect
with Least Gardening Effort,
I got hungry enough to start eating the weeds.
I mean, not indiscriminately,
I’m not quite that dim,
although now that I think on it,
it would be easier to just graze on handfuls
while standing
or even sitting
in my new weed garden.
I could set the wicker chairs
and the swing out there.
The family that grazes together
stays and shits and starts to stick together,
I would suppose,
avoiding all unnecessary excesses
of hunting and gathering their next meal.
That would probably scare off my freeloading adult perpetual-kids too.
That’s called the Principle of Positive Emergent Systemic Effect,
kind of another version of getting extra stuff done without actually doing anything extra.
Follow Your…
Politicians and Political Scientists and Governors: Follow your trusting empathic heart and rational mind
Preachers and Teachers: Follow your brightest dreams
Nurses and Therapists (and sometimes Doctors): Follow your optimal health options.
Anthropologists: Follow our historic light of deeply regenerative enculturations.
Ecologists: Follow our highest and deepest and healthiest polycultural ecosystemic climaxing outcomes.
Evolutionists: Follow our regenerative warm,
not too Yang-hot-causal or too Yin-cold-unresponsive,
bilateral dipolar light strings
of regenerating political and economic ecodislogical issues
ectosymbiotically regenerating DNA/RNA-scripted biosystems
as multicultural-solidarity ecosystemic life regenerative
temporal-fractal-fold-enscripted MidWay Tipping-tissue trends.
New Economists: Follow cooperative health-invested money.
Polypaths: Follow all the redundantly resonant co-empathic trust abundance above,
as below,
Exterior MultiParadigmatic Landscapes
as Interior BiCameral Balancing WinWin
Networks of ReGenesis Nutrition.
Psychology of Political-Economic Constitutions
Shalom, Aloha, Namaste
Kinship and Ego identity co-arise in socioeconomic health of mutual trust,
beginning in utero
swimming about in embryonic nutrition,
rather than active distrust
or more passive mistrust of the relatively unknown
yet somehow paranoic alien, Other.
The psychological fuel for polypathic political trust
is capacity for empathy,
which grows bicamerally within mutually subsidiary economies
of co-empathic positive intent,
co-arising nondually
in more ecstatic peaks of good beatific as beautifully edgy humor.
Empathy is a teachable,
because learnable,
listening and noticing skill,
stretching to include those aliens of self and other doubt,
occasionally even abusive terrorists within.
Mature co-empathic bicameral skills
are what we might call healthy mindfulness,
ecoconsciousness of Self as holonically syncing with Other,
intent toward mutual integrity,
trust,
love,
regard,
esteemed equivalence,
emerging from comprehension of our Original Intent
as regenerative cycling Earth’s SpaceTime fertile paradise
of Positive Deviance Psychology,
Political ChoiceMaking for Positive Nutrients,
Economically Cooperative WinWin TransActions,
deviant from vacuous dissonance and chaos,
random WinLose irrationality,
endless notnot polynomials of double-binding ambivalence.
Zero-centric mindfulness training
is not only the stuff of sit at home,
chant and drum meditation training and sensory experience
of nutritional sounds and tastes and sights and smells
with concomitant affective feelings
of resonant trust, dissonant mistrust, assonant distrust, hate, fear, anger
trusting things might be better
if I can just cathartically,
purgatively force myself and others to calm back down
from active distrust to at least more passive mistrust
about our continuing future lives together
in more peaceful silence of mutual breathing,
in as out.
While shared centering space and sounds can be useful
especially as household units,
and prior to important political and economic discernment events
processes
systemic networks of positive transitional evolutionary intent,
stretching mindfulness through each active loving moment
of each day and night
is optimally sustained only in a safe-risk environment
of political and economic cooperative nurturance,
where power competitions are normatively agreed to remain subservient
to greater cooperative nurturing,
Both-And powers of consensual discernment
to discover together highest and best political ecotherapy
and economic health optimization outcomes.
We are best within our democratically-inclusive empathic wheelhouse,
rather than the mutual immune fears of unknown
mysterious and unfortunate threats
and other competitive LeftBrain too-reductive dominance
in defining extended families of synergetic confluence,
requires (0)-centric disciplines of mindfulness
but these are more accurately embraced as Tao-disciplines
on behalf of Love as Nature’s KindTrust Expansion,
rather than suboptimizing political/economic goals
of Anger and Fear Management and self repression
of the static/stuck Panic-Terrorist within to feel better
managing damage control,
safety and security,
defensive mutual time out preferences,
restraint procedures
and economic investment boundary policies
to contain our LoseLose worst hunting and ungathering fears.
The Haudenosaunee definition of grace,
gratitude,
thanksgiving,
“the words that come before all else”
under ideal compost incubating circumstances
of mutual-mentoring
creative
Both-And political and economic cooperative discernment
might bilaterally nuance,
grace evolves the words that come before as after all else,
as above,
so below;
as Exterior Landscaped
so Interior Landscaped.
The belief that anthrocentrism is fundamental
to wise political and economic regenerative planning
for future generations,
is the Original Sin of fundamentalist self-idolatry.
Our capacities for healthy mutual co-empathic trust development
far exceed such a limited and limiting sense of our own personal,
familial,
and EarthTribal identity,
history of cooperative enculturation and intelligence.
Radical Revolutionary Earth (0)-Soul Centrism
is bicameral ecoconsciousness
of polypathic highest as healthiest beautiful minds and words
that come both before and after all else.
Our co-empathic democratic multicultural trust
in healthy cooperative futures begins this and each EarthLoving Eternal Day and Rich Composting Night,
Aloha, Shalom. Namaste.
Designer Cabinet
The apparent President-elect
and her closest advisers
gather to build a Cabinet
that might survive four years of dwindling hope.
Thanks so much for being here.
Let’s begin with a time of silence,
gathering our listening voices and thoughts,
hopes and therapeutic vision….
As this time ends,
I’m wondering if someone might help me understand
why we have a Department of Health and Human Services.
Does this “and” imply a mandate to provide health services to non-humans?
Or, maybe we provide non-healthy human services?
Why not just Department of Human Health Services?
Well, that would be confusing.
Social services,
like help for abused and neglected kids,
seems rather far afield from health services.
In fact, some of those programs are known to cause
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Maybe Healthy Human Services?
And, why is the Department of Education
not part of our Healthy Human Services Department?
What are the advantages and disadvantages
of keeping education separate from “services”?
I’m not sure how healthy our educational services are right now.
Some of our students don’t even feel safe at school,
much less happy and healthy.
Doesn’t that adversely influence learning outcomes?
Anyway, your mentioning safety reminds me
of the Defense Department.
If the Defense Department’s mission
is not to protect our health and safety
then I”m not sure what we are defending, exactly.
Maybe we should collapse Defense
into a new Department of Healthy and Safe Human Services.
Ballistics and safety don’t sound right together to me.
And what about proactive and preventative strategies,
aren’t these really more offensive
than defensive measures
to retain safe environments?
What about the Department of Healthy Human Security Services?
Seems like security
and defense
and preventive measures
to avoid ugly violence and aggression
are already in that word “healthy.”
It would be an oxymoron
to have a Department of Healthy Human Insecurity Services,
wouldn’t it?
Yes, that sounds more like my high school experience.
Especially those bathrooms
and lethally swarming corridors between classes.
Wouldn’t the same concerns apply to all the economic,
housing,
and urban and rural development services?
And the Environmental Protection Agency?
That sounds like another health agenda to me.
Not strictly human services, though.
How about a Department of Non-Pathological Development Services?
Do you think we could deliver as advertised?
Party Games
What are the odds that either Democratic or Republican leaders
will ever again remember how to host a Party?
Imagine these invitations we receive:
Dear Ms. Democrat,
Dear Mr. Republican,
Please come to our Leadership Party,
primarily to listen to us rant and rave
about why to avoid going to any of those other parties,
and how to avoid asking stupid primal questions,
too hypnotized by lust for anthrocentric hypnotic power games.
This is not my idea of recreation
or creative expression
or even entertainment
much less an improvement over Charades
wherein at least you can choose to listen
through all those less than excellent solutions:
not this
not that
not now
not later
not before.
Why is it not OK
to ask more resonant political and economic questions
at political and economic leadership parties?
Perhaps we could skip the depressing alcoholic punch,
try some THC,
while playing political and economic charades,
opening both-and bicamerality
where either-or had been the only strategic advantage
for monopoly winning outcomes.
I’m deep-bone tired of Musical Chairs
and Pin the Tail of responsibility
on the other party’s butt of sociopathic non-accountability.
Decent political parties don’t play
Spin the Porky Competition Bottle
all night behind smoke-filled self-engorging doors.
I would rather stay home
and continue losing Solitaire,
but thanks so much for not thinking of me
or my family
when you are designing your non-party,
rearranging our furnishings to help pay your mortgage
and send your kids to supremely private anthrocentric schools
teaching all those non-good BusinessAsUsual Monopoly questions.
No thanks for crappy party favors
and invitations to crashdump that Other Party
rather than enjoy a more cooperative civil right
to party hearty healthy happy
swimming together in one environmental pool;
not flying apart
with everyone striking other guests and hosts
like overstuffed piñatas.
What are the odds of conjoining our deeper Left-Right EcoBalancing Party,
my polypathic slice of co-operative poli-economic Paradise?
Thomas The Jefferson’s Train
In my dream
Thomas Jefferson pops out a pilgrim
in The Jeffersons family,
proprietors of Chinese laundries
on the worst end of Main Street’s forested path
emerging toward Sanford Sons and Daughters Recycling Dump.
Here, midst polyglot stone soups
both informing and deforming,
occasionally reforming,
Thomas declares revolutionary interdependence with Earth’s dignity
as his senior honor’s thesis
read out boldly to collegial students
teaching cultural enrichment,
hoping for autonomic network surges
of WinWin political ecological outcomes.
Thomas, sometimes called Red behind his considerable backside,
discovered repurposing as economic thesis
and recovering recycling paths of golden intentions
as political antithesis
of terrorist fascist Christians
who had hoped to grow up
to join SuperJewish kibbutzisms
which was merely a more high-toned reference
to the pilgrim’s village recycling crashdump
of at-risk people looking for more inviting places
with sufficient space
for the entire upstairs-downstairs Jefferson Tribe
of Arabic DayDream stews
and stud muffins.
When Red heard young Thomas hoped to revive Taoist MidWays
all along pilgrim’s Main Street sonnets and plays
he prayed to Martha Washington
“My heart, my heart,
I could not survive such empire deconstruction!”
Somehow SuperHero Thomas the Jeffersonian Train
regenerated a multicultural chain of fools
to revolve this foxy precycling plant
into a MidWay forest of sweet and sour bodhisattva delights,
currency accepted up as down MidWay’s carnival street
in Jefferson’s NoShirtTicket-NoLaundryService busy mess
of humanity deforming Earth’s Rights
to procreate recreation of poli-econormic education,
schools of synchronic swimming Red Jeffersonian fish
remembering how to pilgrim surf thru interracial plowing seasons
to turn out hot melting stone soup feasts
of uniting nation futures
invested in laundering unhealthy wealth
until Thomas redreamed rainbow cream.
As Thomas this Jefferson Train
pulled away from wu wei pilgrimage station,
he called out to all repurposing Foxes,
Merry CoMessiahs to all nations
and states of recycling benighted dreams.
Now there’s a good night’s sleep
you’ll never address backward inside-out again.
Holy StandUp Matters
In April of this year I began preparing a new organic gardening patch,
planning to have it ready for next year’s expansion from a too-small garden
in front of my recently acquired Connecticut Cape Cod home.
I have neighbors toward southern exposure and behind,
between the Thames River and my sunset-facing backyard.
Here, next to an old, but still purposeful,
forest green fresh-painted deck
lies a mix of some rich dark soil
and some topsoil with unpromising smears of gravel stones
scraped off a dirt driveway
that turned to mud when wet
before I installed a pressed gravel drive last month.
Anyway,
next to the repurposed green deck
lies my new garden incubation project.
I rescued my deck floor last fall
from the bowels of a thorny bramble mountain,
some woody stalks obscenely pushing between heavy 2×6 planks,
now upper faced with little green stubs
since I rolled my lavish green porch paint.
But, the old railing around three sides was beyond rescue.
No longer with us, I’m sorry to say.
A sun exposed potential spot for a garden
emerged from my bramble mountain on the south side of the slightly raised deck,
about eight yards long on each of three sides.
I laid out my cardboard boxes,
stored in the grotesquely damp basement since I finished unpacking
last fall.
After soaking the cardboard,
I covered it with a combination of compost,
top soil harvested from elsewhere on this property,
and peat moss.
Then I spread four to six inches of leaves over all that.
While I wait for this to transform into healthy nutritional soil,
I have been religiously peeing on the leaves.
At first I only reenacted this baptismal ritual under cover of night,
not so much out of modesty
as motivated by kindness,
as the sight of the elderly pasty white man who just moved in next door
outside exposing his peeing penis
might offend fragile first impressions of a fairly sane person
who might be expected to behave more reliably
with regard to neighborly decorum
and more traditional liturgical events.
More recently I started peeing in a yogurt container by daylight,
huddled up against the back porch door
where at least only my backside could ever become visible
to only the backside neighbor, so to speak,
who seems to be something of an ass.
But then, who isn’t?
Then I take my yogurt cup of warm pee
and toss it out across the leaves blanketing my next-year garden plot.
This ritual feels generous,
like sprinkling my soil with nutritional holy water,
of which I do have some, but far less,
yet perhaps a bit too much,
experience as a seminarian some decades ago.
Ah yes,
memories of peeing with the other would-be angels.
Now I am concerned that I could use a great deal more urine
for my organic farming purposes.
Perhaps I should come out of my yogurt closet,
send out a note to my nearby neighbors:
“Hi. Just want to invite you to come over and pee
on the leaf-covered triangular spot
next to the south side of my deck,
anytime of day or night you wish.
Feel free to include your pets.
Make it a family destination if you wish.
In return for your investment,
I will probably have tomatoes,
potatoes,
cucumbers,
and leeks (no pun intended)
to share,
not this season,
but next.
Maybe some extra peas too.
OK, I’m gonna’ stop now.”
“The neighborhood that pees together,
eats together.
So, come on,
please don’t leave me standing outside,
peeing alone,
preparing for next year’s yummy harvest.”
So I did.
This invitation has not generated the enthusiastic response I was imagining,
with neighborhood families dropping in
to drop off their deposits
for our neighborhood development project.
But,
it did provoke my backyard neighbor
to jam a note into my otherwise vacant mailbox:
“You mentioned,
among your commitments to recycling and repurposing,
that you are an Organ Donor.
I certainly do hope whoever gets those organic parts
has a good harvest no later than next year.
Sooner is better.”
Hmmm….
Now, how could we compost our collective humanure?
Families That Stay Together
The family that bathes together
stays together
until every mindbody smells better together.
Is that like
biology is ecological timing,
hunting healthy polymorphic synergy?
Perhaps.
If yes, it loses something in abstraction.
If no, you might need to stay in your bath a bit longer,
and extend your polycultural definition of family.
Is that like
baptism from monocultural ego identity
into permacultural EarthTribe individuation
thru rainbow colors of TransParent thru BlackHole
DiPolar CoArising Temporal EcoConscious Presence?
Only when baptism
merges a global extended family
immersing into EarthTribe’s Solidarity Revolution,
haunted by Earth’s nutritional DNA/RNA mutuality memories
of polypathic Ego/Echo BiCameral ReIterative Synergy.
Bathing with our Exterior Landscapes
as we would have Earth Goddess and SunGod
continue TransParently eco-mentoring
our Interior EgoLandscapes.
How about,
all souls bathe together
stay together
until every form of nature’s regenesis
smells and looks
tastes and feels and sings thru prime crystal revolving light,
harmonic dialects of family fragrances,
together?
It sounds pretty enough,
but I still don’t think it smells deep rich composted
quite enough for EarthTribe’s baptism
into Great Transitions of post-climatic full-blending octave fragrances
of time as light’s perfume of regenerative choice.
gdill52 