Riding Dragons

 

A little north of the Misty Isle lies the small island of Perth.  At the heart of Perth, surrounded by icy waters is an active volcano.  It is said within the volcano rests the heart of the world.  For generations explorers have been visiting Perth in search of a mystic treasure, a gem that has the power of rendering the wearer immortal.

Immortality may not be exactly what it's all made up to be.  The men who covet the gem lack in any virtue at all, and those who show humility and respect for the path do not want the stone.  So, who would be immortal?  A pious man does not covet and a seeker of gold never has enough.  Much like eating and never being full verses having enough and sharing the rest.  

Guarding the center of the island are a group of sworn monks.  These are the "Monks of Perth" who's oath it is to guard and protect the island and it's treasure with every breath of their beings.  Each has sworn his life to the gems protection and the volcano's stability.  For the stone and the volcano are one.  The Heart cannot leave it's mother.  If the two separate then the volcano would destroy the island, and the rest of the world would follow.    Who would sacrifice the world for unnatural life?  

The Monks of Perth ride on the backs of great winged beasts.  These Dragon Riders are the protectors of the Heart of the World.  The monks fly in pairs in shifts of four hours twenty four hours a day.  These men have been protecting the Heart for millennia protecting a story that has lived in time since time was a thing.  That would make them very old.

This story may be true, it may not, would you travel to a small island just north of the Misty Isle in search of Immortality?  Look on a map you may find Perth, you may not.  Would you be willing to meet the immortal Dragon riding Monks?  Are they cursed, or are they blessed.  Only they would know?   

Peace and Balance,

John

Is the World in a Box?

 

Occasionally you have a day that prompts questions like, "Is the world in a box?"  I understand that unusual questions more often than not end up with more unusual questions, this is one of those.  I will explain.

Today was the first day of school for the staff of the school system I work for.  We began our day all cram packed in a room that in today's environment could end up in a nasty disease.  All lined up functionally slowly moving along a table top full of so called breakfast sandwiches.  The food was cold and the coffee pot was not functional.  Not a good start to the festivities.  

After acquiring our pretraining treat, we all wagged our tails and sat at our tables.  Small round tables that give the appearance of many factions of Arthurian Lore. In front of us stands the Chief of the schools, the Super Intendent.  A super hero capable of wielding great authority through the clicking of a mouse and verbalizing of a home made video.  There is nothing that can't be accomplished through a good mouse click and a visual story that a group is mandatorily compelled to view.  The power of the Super Intendent. 

Today's video proves that with the correct Jeep and proper driver, one can go anywhere.  Driving up the sides of mountains and along the rims of death dealing valleys.  A good Jeep can travel the Universe.  Which one, well that is a horse of another color?  

All Dorthy had to do was click her heals together three times and say, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home."  However, if your driving up Sh**ts creek, "There's no place like a Jeep."  

Dealing the day through a devise that has more information running through it than an Austrian Cheerleading squad,  I found my day crammed into a small square box.  Everything I tried to do was hidden somewhere within that box.  Unfortunately, my box is broken and sitting on a desk in the office of the Box doctor.  That's IT for short.  And it holds everything in IT.  Ya know?

Thoughts passed through my head, into my eyes, out my nostrils, and around the room.  It's a short trip, there aren't to many thoughts residing there.  They are lonely.  I find the modern thought traveling through a box similar to the one I once had.  My mind thinks of Merlin, and super heroes that have unknown powers of detection from the box.  

Is the world in a box?  Is the box another world?  Are there worlds without boxes?  The answer may only be a mouse click away.

Peace and Balance,

John

Jumping Through Hoops

 I went to a Circus when I was a kid.  There was this animal trainer that had some pretty big cats.  A few Lions, a couple Tigers, a Puma, and I remember he had a Polar Bear, and a Black Bear.  This guy was good with large pointy toothed critters.  Complete with oversized pith hat and baggy pants, his name was Sir Reginald, or something like that.  

Anyways Sir Reggy, would take out this oversized ring and have the cats jump through it.  I remember he even had a couple flaming rings in a row that he managed to get a couple Tigers through.  Now, that says something about his ability to calm the critters.  Big cats in general have an instinctual fear of fire.  They jumped through and he patted them on the head handing them tasty treats for prizes.  

Just like cats people are often seen jumping through hoops.  When we really want to get things done that are important we are made to jump through hoops.  But, instead of fiery hoops of pain, we have inky hoops of paperwork and verbal nonsense.  We get wrangled into all sorts of political sanctums and traps that only a quick whit and sharp tongue can get you out of.  As soon as you're out of the one trap another appears and you find yourself staring down a rather large hoop.  

I too have hoops.  My hoops come in all sorts of colors, and I've learned to "Skip to my Loo" through them.  A light footed approach is often the best.  Playing tippy toe with Hoops can entertain the masses and get you to where you're going, sometimes at your own expense.  However, if the game is played just right a little extra expense will bring bigger gains.  Maybe not.

Recently I've gone through a little expense that may bring some of those gains for my family and friends.  Bearing Fruit after a small amount of personal expense sometimes is all worth the price of the Hoop.

So, Sir Reginald and his Big Cats, and we and our Stuff, each with a Hoop to jump through.  How entertaining can we make it?

Peace and Balance,

John

ET, Phone Home?

 In 1982 Hollywood released a fun film about a lost alien, "Thing" that spent most of his time here on Earth with a young man named Elliot, and his family.  Written by Melissa Mathison and directed by Steven Spielberg, ET became the new face of the 80's for alien visitors from outer space.  

Of course the Aliens are visiting the San Fernando Valley in California.  A family of Alien Botanists, the ET group is collecting specimens of the flora growing in Elliot's family back yard late at night.  Poor ET is left behind and wanders the woods until he is discovered by Elliot's clan.  

The little Alien shows some extremely interesting powers by healing, flying, being invisible, and moving real fast for a guy with such short squatty legs.  A little cute, ugly as hell alien.  Ever notice how people tend to gravitate towards ugly kids and call them cute. "Oh, he's so cute." they say, "She's such a cutie."  Is there some sort of small person majick that makes us insist ugly kids are cute?  

ET, is short for Extraterrestrial.  Now, Terrestrial mean a being is from Terra, that's Earth.   I'm just not 100 percent clear about the Extra part.  What does that mean exactly?  Does that mean that the being is an Extra on Terra?  How many Extra's on Earth are there?  Does that mean ET comes from outer space, inner space, same space, just Extra?  Terrestrial sort of implies that the being comes from the terra firme, that's the dry land parts.  What if they come from the water parts, what do you call them?  Extra-aguastrial?  The possibilities are ridiculous.  

In the 80's we had the friendly face of ET to fantasize about alien visitation.  Today, due to the military insistence, our alien fantasies are more malevolent and sometimes come with crocodile skin and pointy teeth.  The outlook of that idea is rather disturbing.  I don't have any need to become dinner for some Space Croc.  

There was an old television series about a race of alien lizards that disguised themselves as humans called, "The Visitors."  These beings would enslave humans and yes, prepare a smorgasbord.  This series is presently going through a revival with some modern twists and turns.  We are still a tasty snack.  Kinda makes me wonder, hmmmm?  

It occurs to me that any race capable of traveling the distances and times in space to get here from there.  That beings with technologies of such magnitude would probably make the malevolent thing mute.  Why would they find us tasty?  Didn't I read someplace that pork is not Kosher?  

ET's family were Botanists, taking samples from a California back yard.  What was growing there?  Is  this the reason the Visitor's had the munchies?  hmmm.

Peace and Balance,

John

Our Little Addictions.

 It occurred to me this morning that I think about food allot.  Food is one of those thoughts in my mind that tend to linger and hang out, possibly just for kicks.  I'm one of those kids that is hungry 24/7 regardless of how much I've stuffed down the ole gullet.  Food and me, well you can say we have this, "Carnal" relationship.  

Fortunately I spend much of my time doing activities that are supposed to burn off the calories I've been stuffing into my face.  I rise fairly early in the AM, about 4:00, and begin my morning routine.  This program is pretty aerobic and brings up a moderate sweat.  I can breath and bring up a sweat, and have taught people to do just that.  Heavy breathing and aerobic activity are supposed to be good for burning off excess me.  And lately there has been more of me to spread around.  

Last year at this time I found out that I suffer from Hypothyroidism, that's a fricking mouth full, and probably have had it for most of my life.  My lifestyle was holding off the effects of the disease, I was burning off all those extra cells.  However, that was many years ago and I am now an American man, Of a Certain Age.  That's code for Old Fart.  

It seems that the metabolism changes as we age which effects every part of our physicalness.  I find that I heal a little slower after a self imposed booboo.  I look at certain food sideways and find it resting in my mid section.  When I was professionally active I was fighting Light Heavy at between 176 and 187 pounds.  I now tip the scale at a quarter a millennium and wonder just what the Hell happened?  When did this sneak up on me?  I am now in search of a new wardrobe.  

Some of you will say, "John why don't you just work out harder?"  Trust me kids, I spend allot of time moving.  The rest of my students rely on me to remember stuff, so I have to practice stuff.  I'm sort of a Monk that way, not a good one, just sort of.  

So, I take a pill every day to help regulate my Thyroid, and I move.  But I still eat.  Ah, the shame... One of my Hero's from kidhood is Grandmaster Ed Parker Sr., the founder of American Kenpo Karate. To quote Mr. Parker, "I'm addicted to my taste buds."  He was a big Hawaiian kid.  

So, I to am addicted to my taste buds.  It's always our little addictions that sneak up on us when we become person's of a "Certain Age."

Peace and Balance,

John

All For One and One For All

 When I was a kid, that includes today, I was and am a huge fan of "The Three Musketeers." Each one of the Four, notice in the book there are four Musketeers, is a favorite character for me.  In the many publications of the novelette the titles switch back and forth from, "The Three Musketeers, to The Four Musketeers," and even if your a Warner Brothers fan, "The Man In The Iron Mask."  

In 1844, Alexandre Dumas, wrote the Novel as an expression of his frustration with the French political spectrum.  He used the existing Musketeer corp as an example and a medium for his protagonists the elusive, Three, or Four.  

Then in 1921, Edward Knoblock, (what a name, right?), Douglas Fairbanks, and Lotta Woods, (another doozy), collaborated and wrote a screenplay for the silent blockbuster, "The Three Musketeers"  It was one of the original ole fashioned Swashbuckler's full of sword play, damsels giving distress, (those familiar with the story will understand what I say), and Good Verses Evil.  I love that stuff.

Each generation has it's own version of the film, each growing the myth and expanding the message as they grow.  Athos, Porthos, Aramis, and of course the future Captain of the Guard, D'Artagnan.  Each has an attribute that can be considered a virtue and a lesson for young men and women of all generations.  Athos was the Wise one, Porthos was the strong one, Aramis, the priest, was the pious one, and D'Artagnan was full of vigor and guile.   Each on of these Hero's alone is incomplete, but together as a Unit, unstoppable.  They become the Whole modern Hero.  I am reminded of the Book Iron John, who was afraid of only one thing, the monster at the bottom of the bog, his mother.  Sort of reminiscent of Grendel.  Each of these Hero's had lessons that young people could use to build their own personal character and together maybe etch the world. 

Now we go back to the call, "All For One And One For All!".  If ever there was a time when people, humanity, nations, religions, the young, the old, the in-between, needed a set of principles to help us, the world,  get through what is to come, "All For One And One For All!"  Is in My Memory.

Peace and Balance,

John

Pizza

 

Americans consume more pizza than any other group of people on the planet.  We indulge in it, we re-create it, we try to make it a culinary perfection.  Pizza has been recorded in one form or another as far back as the ancient Egyptians.  Go figure, Egypt claims the origins of just bout everything.  

Pizza's modern existence can be credited to the southwest Campania region of Italy.  Somewhere around or in the city of Naples.  Essentially a flat bread with stuff on it, originally without tomato sauce a creation of the Chinese, Pizza has become the great addiction of the American youth since the early 20th century as immigrants to the larger cities coming from the Naples region brought it with them.   

It seems just about every large metropolitan area in the United States has a version of Pizza all their own. In Boston you get a slice of pie from corner venders and real nice restaurants in little Italy.  In New York City pizza comes in many flavors.  Chicago has created the Pan Pizza, (My favorite) complete with everything you can fit on it.  I too am addicted to that wonderous flat bread full of delight.  

Pizza after all is a whole food group.  It has everything in it and on it that can sustain human existence.  Break it down and you can consider a good pizza a member of the Health food group.  I refer to pizza as Soul Food because in certain circumstances you are feeding your soul.  And a Happy Soul it will be to. 

So, when you indulge in Pizza remember it's origins, Egypt or Italy, and express your Americanness and fix er'up to the hilt.

Peace and Balance,

John

 

Gong Fu

https://youtu.be/RF7zvMyDP8Q

When I was young I was a big fan of Kwai Chang Cain the protagonist in the series Kung Fu.  I was enthralled with his calm demeanor, positive attitude, and the ability to really kick ass.   David Carradine played the character admirably.  He was a good choice, however the actual idea for the series Kung Fu was a screen play called, "The Warrior," written and pitched to Warner Brothers by Bruce Lee.  The "Warrior" was shelfed and Ed Spielman used it to create the Character Kwai Chang Cain and the Kung Fu francize.  

Bruce Lee actually tried out for the part of Kwai Chang, but was turned down because the producers didn't think the American public would accept his, "Look" and "Accent".  Today that thought process would not pass.  However, between the two actors at that time, David Carradine was a much more seasoned actor, where Bruce was working his way into Superstardom, he still did not have that calming monk like quality that David was able to produce.  Bruce would most likely have been more realistic, but in 1972 the American public wasn't ready for reality.  We were all craving the fantasy and escape our programing could give us due primarily to the Viet Nam crisis.  I often wonder what the series would have been like if Bruce would have gotten the part.  Would we witness Kato as a Shaolin Monk?  We'll never know.  

I began my own journey with the Martial Art's sometime back in the mid to late 60's.  I began my walk with my father, Axel Schmaing and my grandfather father Donald E. Schmaing Sr.  I learned our families form of Aikijitsu and Jiujitsu.  From there I evolved and grew.  That was a long time ago and since then let's just say, I've studied a lot of stuff.  

Today I practice and Teach my own style of Gong Fu that I call TuMo Quen Gong Fu. Which means I work hard at The Art of The Inner Fire through my Vessel.  And Ninpo Chuan Fa.  The Silent Warrior's fist art. Both styles are blended and creations of mine.    I am the creator and founder of, "The School Of The Silent Warrior." here in the United States and am registered as the founder in Beijing China. I also teach my own form of Wu Style Taijiquan as originally taught to me by Leung Shum, Grandmaster of the Ying Jow Pai association in New York.  Master Shum's version of the Wu Style Taiji set I have since changed into my own version of the form.  This is how we change and evolve with our Gong Fu.  It has always been this way.  

My lineage is as follows:  Donald E. Schmaing Sr., Axel A. Schmaing, Eva Pederson, (Schmaing), Daniel Schmaing, Guilmero Lopez, Willy Cahill. Walt Currie, Aaron Web, Steve Kaluza, O'Kuda (Okinawa), Shigeki (Montana Taekwondo), Ralf Castro, Fred Villari, Leung Shum, Poi Chan, Charles E. Boyle.  This is a list of masters that have been my martial mentors and family members.  Like I said, "I've been practicing a long time and a lot of stuff."  With their guidance both martial, and spiritual, influenced by all these great masters, I have created myself again.  

The attached Lohan 4 is an example of one of my creations.  Now, back to our regular programing. Enjoy...

Peace and Balance,

John

It's Just Toast and Gravy.

When I was a member of our great governmental machine, a cog in the works so to speak, one of my favorite breakfast delicacies was fondly called, "Sh*t on a Shingle."  Not a very appetizing name I know, but hey once you've crossed the boundaries of revulsion the sky is the limit man.  Here's my favorite recipe for "Sh*t on a Shingle":  A few pieces of whole wheat toast, buttered.  That is important, it lends to the flavor.  Then you mix up, probably should do this first, but hey.  Anyways, you mix up a good chicken or turkey gravy.  Thicken it with some corn starch and milk.  Season with salt and black pepper while adding some pre-fried pork sausage.  Let this simmer to desired consistency and taste then liberally ladle over a couple pieces of the buttered whole wheat toast.  Then, if your brave add just a smidgen of either grated cheddar or parmesan cheese.  Yummy man.  

Why this wonderous tasty concoction was called "Sh*t on a Shingle" I'm not sure, but according the the Google devise, is has to do with a love and hate relationship service members have with the dish.  Even the Google machine claims that it is pretty tasty.  From the internet monster that's high praise. I really would like to shake the hand of the Chef that originally created this dish because it is partially responsible for my ability to maintain a certain amount of sanity while I was a pawn of the establishment.  I had something to look forward to in the early AM.  

While out on maneuver's we automatons of Uncle Sam generally had to rely on a small package called the K ration.  When I was first in the military the K ration was in a box that contained something called, "Mystery Meat."  a couple packets of instant coffee, some smokes that I gave away as I never had that nasty habit, and two Chiclets.  I assume that was to freshen your breath after the mystery meat.  There usually was an opener for the can of Mystery Meat, other wise you had to rely on your bayonet to open the can. We used small amounts of C4 to cook with.  That's another story.

Then a couple years into my servitude our K rations were renamed, "Meals Ready To Eat."  That's a mouthful to say for your standard young soldier so we kept calling them K Rats.  These new meals were sealed in a vacuum prepared plastic-ish bag.  The MRE's were generally better packaged and tastier than the K Rats.  K Rats were always questionable just what era they came from.  So the change was actually a welcome one.  

Regardless of the packaging and the name of our Meal non of these could stand in the face of the old fashioned, "Sh*t on a Shingle."   You don't have to be a member of the military complex to enjoy SOS, just have taste buds.  Try out the recipe above.  You never know what might happen.  You might get the urge to march in cadence and say, "Yes sir, no sir" to your spouse.  But, I doubt it.  

Peace and Balance,

John

Malted Milk Balls

 

Yes it's true, I have a weakness for Malted Milk Balls, aka: Whoppers.  I share them with Mona and we watch bad Korean TV on Netflix making fun of the acting and film production.  The latest was a series called, "Hellbound".  The basic plot is the protagonist, a burnt out detective who gets tied up into an investigation of a lunatic that seems to be able to predict the deaths of bad guys at the very moment of their demises.  This is when some rather large smoke laden demon types show up out of the void and dispatch said bad guy.  These are real bad bad guys, not just your average bad guys.  These guys are going straight to Hell.  I won't mess up the show anymore for you, check it out.  

Anywho, I have a weakness for Malted Milk Balls.  I was wrist deep in box, they come in containers that are the shape of cardboard milk jugs, and pulled out a satisfying handful.  I have a fairly good sized hand so, it was satisfying.  I was munching happily on my Whoppers when I bit down and instead of that happy crunch I was expecting there was a soft chewy goo.  

Now I know that working in a candy factory can be tedious and your average factory worker needs a little stress relief and I not against a good practical joke, but someone put a Caramel Ball in my Malted Milk Ball box.  Now, I'm not against a good Caramel Ball, but when your expecting a nice chocolate crunch the sensation of a gooey bite can be disturbing.  The fellow responsible needs to be chocolate dipped and feathered.  

Hey, maybe he'll end up on the wrong end of smoke laden demon types from, "Hellbound"?  Nah, I'm just being mean.  

Peace and Balance,

John 

The Lady Asked for Help.

 I work two days in Wal Mart.  It sucks, but that's not the subject of this blog.  During my day I spend most of my time looking at an alpha numeric cataloging that is supposed to help the store keep the inventory in line and lets the computer keep the inventory up to date, HAH!  If you're not aware, Wal Mart is run by a mercenary group of teenagers that have been sent to the Wal Mart College to learn how to push people around.  My tolerance for teenagers on powers trips has run its course.  So, being a father figure I've mastered the ancient art of the intimidating stare over the top of the reading glasses.  I learned this from my father when I was a teenager.  I remember the chill that it sent down my spine.  I remember the thoughts, the fear, the wondering what comes next.  Hell hath no fury.  

I've been using this mystic technique on the, "managers?" of Wal Mart.  So far, they don't bother with me.  After all I am an unpredictable SOB.  See the power of the stare.  The other half of the technique is a little harder and needed some practice.  That is the Clint Eastwood sneer.  Dad would stare over his glasses, and employee that sneer. The world would stop.  Now dad had one other part that I can't master.  He had a loose false front tooth that he would let slip down just a hair.  Picture this, Intimidating stare over the glasses, Clint Eastwood sneer, and his loose front tooth slipping down just a bit.  Creepy right?  

While I was working merchandise, trying to translate the alpha numeric BS.  A sweet old lady tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Sir, can you help me with this?"  

As little old French ladies are she was about four feet nothin and slightly stooped.  She asked me to reach for an object to high on the shelf for her to reach.  Which to be honest was just a little higher than my waist, but I don't judge.  Anyways, while I was reaching for the object I was accosted by one of these self important Teenagers.  I ignored him, employed my Mystic technique and continued to reach.  The youngster obviously needed a further lesson because he just got angry and pressed me again.   

Out of the magic blue, the little old lady suddenly became motionless and silent.  She was staring straight at that poor fool of a managing teen, barely breathing.  The only thing I could compare her to was an Alpha wolf  getting ready to pounce.  

You can sense fear in the young when it comes over them.  It has a stink and a quiver that penetrates the whole situation.  His eyes got big, almost a tear running down his cheek.  I could swear I saw his bottom lip quivering.  He was a  mess.  Then there was a sound.  I would say it was a Kiai a martial yell, but it came from everywhere.  Then the old lady moved like a pit viper.  Her left hand shot out and  hit him soundly on the shoulder with her purse, then she kicked him real hard right on the shin.  The teenager's eyes welled up and he limped away in defeat.  I swear I could hear him crying.

There was a small miracle that day.  She straightened right up.  Looked over her shoulder at me with an impish grin followed by a cackle that could only be compared to a true honest to goodness Witch.  Gee Wiz.  She said, "Thank you for your help son." And she walked away.

So, I now know two mystic techniques to use on the Teenage super staff of Wal Mart.  My Dad's gaze, with Clint Eastwood's sneer, and an Old Ladies motionless pounce that strikes instant fear in the hearts of the American Teenager.  It was a good day...

Peace and Balance,

John

Look Ma I can Fly.

 So, I had a flying dream.  Ya know the kind of dream where you're flying through the clouds, arms reached out, enjoying the breeze.  I remember leaving my body and flying straight through my ceiling and out into the great beyond.  That's not where the adventure actually started though.  You see yesterday was Friday.  On Friday's I and two of my bestest Buds get together and have "Sacred Coffee Friday" you might be familiar with this term if you've been reading my posts.  

Now to be honest with you, we are not your average coffee drinking fools.  We have taken the drinking of coffee to a whole new level, hence "Sacred Coffee Fridays".  Sacred Coffee is code for three Magic using Medicine dudes that are all round nice guys that love to talk the Big Talk and make the Big Medicine.  The secret is that In the proper preparation of the Holy Beans.  It is important to get that special wafting aroma going with that ever important heightened vibration that informs us that we are alive.  Yes, the controlled jitters.  That's how you know the medicine or Magic is working.  It vibrates all over the place and added to three focused minds and look out.  

Now I will inform you at this time that other then the Magical drink, no secrets will be passed to the reader.  You have to find them yourselves.  That's the fun part.  

So, I had a flying dream.  I woke up out of bed, so I thought and turned to look back at my own sleeping body.  That's a little creepy by the way.  Then I looked up and away we went through the ceiling and out into the beyond.  I changed the pros to a we instead of a me or I at this point because wandering outside of your body usually is supervised by another part of yourself that should be a heck of a lot smarter and wiser than you are.  That's a relationship you have to develop on your own.  I works to get control of your own ego first.  

I flew through the clouds and dived bombed my own house. It was cool.  I looked around and realized that it wasn't dark and it wasn't light, it was sort of a rosy in-between, pink and golden with hints of blue green.  Like I said, Cool.  

After flying around the valley and playing acrobatics I looked out beyond and found myself floating in space facing a really pretty looking Nebula listening to some quiet music with a voice telling me things that I can't remember, yet.  Like I said, Cool.  Then I woke up. And, I can tell you I feel like a million bucks.  No owies, no booboos, everything was pretty good.  I was vibrating.  Could be the coffee, ya never know.  

So, a low respectful bow to my compadres, Pilamaya ye.  That means thank you.  

Peace and Balance,

John

Rain Go Away Today

 If I say

Rain go away today

Will it listen

and go somewhere else to play?

Or will it stay and wet the land

making mud 

I'm not complaining really

I tell you rain is good

it makes my grass green

Better than seen

dry and brown complete with a weed

Dare I say

Rain go away today?

Risking dust

Am I really complaining? 

Maybe not

I just don't like Rain today.

Peace and Balance,

John

Hello, Who Is It?

 For thousands of years human kind has made claims of communicating with Beings or a Being from someplace else.  We have made claims that an all knowing presence has been talking to us giving us life lessons and a moral code with which to conduct our daily lives.  If your a religious sort you call this Big Being, "God, Allah, Jehovah, Yahweh, the Great Spirit, and ET."  Or the many other names of that invisible Large Dude or Dudette in the sky.  

Our proverbial psychic phone rings and we either choose to answer the call or we ignore the ringing hoping the answering machine will take the call for us.  As I write this blog I'm watching, "Network" on TCM and the line, "I'm Mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore." seems appropriate.  When that phone rings and we answer it is anyone thinking of asking who is calling?  Or have we all collectively gone Mad as Hell?

Historically it is true that the spoils go to the victors.  A long time ago, maybe even longer, there was a war.  The combatants for lack of a better description wore either black hats or white hats.  There was a winner in this war, which hat was the uniform of the victor,? I don't know.  What I do know is that the winner has had many names over the millennia of human development, and this winner has been weaving us a story about ourselves, and the loser of the conflict.  But, like it has been said, "The spoils go to the Victors."  Who have we actually been listening to? 

My grandmother told me once that if you are approached by an angel it is wise to challenge the Being and make damn sure you know who and what you are conversing with.  A benevolent being will be tolerant and most likely let you know.  I should let the reader know at this time that historically angels appear to man to kick our tiny little butts for being stupid.  A malevolent being will most likely try to be slick and lie it's way into your life, just before it destroys you and eats you for breakfast.  Neither one of these beings is a good thing to have around.  One of them will kill in the name of that Large Ominous Being in the sky, and the other will kill just because it digs it.  Both are bad, hence Grandma's challenge.  Grandma was very good at keeping unwanted things away. 

Some of us have been communicating with Beings that may or may not come from places other than here.  I'm not sure that these Beings aren't the original voices from beyond in the first place.  We just recognize them differently because Human kind has evolved technologically into the Sci Fi realms of reality.  In our origins we ran from our gods out of fear. Then as time progressed we saw angels with wings giving us warm fuzzy feelings, who would spank us from time to time because we are bad.  They call that Hell.  Then our gods and angels became little big headed dudes flying around in circular craft giving human kind a spiritual rectal probe.  Our sci fi gods have caught up to us.  

So, do we answer the phone, or do we just let it ring?  If we answer the phone are we going to have the courage to say, "Hello, Who is it?"  I remember reading in more than a couple different books that basically say, "Beware the false ones for they lead you to your own demise."  So, who is speaking?

Peace and Balance,

John

Daily Routines

 Human beings are creatures of habit.  We do things in set orders and timings so we can express a simulated control over our own personal environments.  In this way we can exercise a comfortable repour with our own surroundings and personal space.  We pretend to be the masters of our homes and the Kings of our own little countries, or depending on your personality, the gods of our own personal worlds.   

I exercise my own daily routines.  I usually wake early every morning and do the zombie stroll to the counter in my kitchen where sits a holy shrine at which I pay homage to the Coffee Gods.  My zombie self waits as the shrine gurgles and burps and wafts the room with a very satisfying aroma.  At the end of a short period of waiting and praying for a good cup, I partake in the daily practice of ingesting this holy liquid which miraculously pulls my self out of the zombieness that stands before it, I am awake, and I am grateful. 

Routines like this are important for the sanctity of self preservation.  Each one of us has his or her own little sacred routines that we go through on a daily basis keeping order and balance in our personal environment completing the day.  We all tend to repeat these routines on a regular time exchange daily.  This helps us understand the passing of Time as it relates to our personal Space as we travel through the universe we occupy at any given moment.  

During our days other routines occupy our time.  I, after my daily Coffee ritual, do what my wife has playfully dubbed as the Funky Chicken dance.  That is I practice my daily Taijiquan and Gong Fu  Taulo, or what we call Lohan and Morning Dancing.  What Master Tim has coined as Kitchen Kung Fu.  Others do other things, running, lift weights, Yoga, or whatever strikes the fancy of the practitioner.  These are all daily routines.  Lest we insult the other's around us with our odoriferousness, we follow with the other important daily happenings, Shower, shave, and mirror gazing trying to figure out just who the hell is staring back at us from the other side.  Once we have established our own identities we can move on to the rest of the day.  

Every one of us has a set number of these routines we go through day in and day out as we progress through our present livings.  Occasionally we divert and change the order in which we practice our dailies, but that has very little effect on the forward momentum we have carved our for ourselves.  

Does this look familiar to the reader, does this have a smattering of reality?   It should, because for many of us these daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly practices, these things that are pushing you ever closer to your God are as close as you'll ever get to the practice of a "Real" religion.   Amen, HO

Peace and Balance,

John

Mowing the Lawn

 A twelve year old boy just loves his tractors and trucks.  He drives them back and forth and around and round for hours and hours.  Then we grow up and leave our tractors and trucks behind.  Such a sad state of affairs when a grown man can't admit to still wanting to play with tractors and trucks. Sad indeed.

It's a wonder that more of us haven't gone into the agricultural pursuits just to get that fix of driving tractors and trucks that we are all so craving.  As we get older our tractors and trucks get bigger and more complicated.  Some of us start venerating companies like, Big Bud, and John Deer.  Other's of us go so far as to deify the companies of our favorite models of Tractors and Trucks thus create the Cults of John Deer and Ford/Chevy who's existence resembles closely the Chinese Yin Yang. I leave it up to the reader to place Ford or Chevy in the proper perspective.  Tractors and Truckers unite, stay young.

Many of us rural boys have the responsibilities of taking care of the yards, lawns, and gardens in which our domiciles are encased.  Some of us have more yard space than others.   We have adapted to gain our Tractor and Truck fix through the use of the Lawn Tractor and the F150 Ford truck to haul stuff and mow the lawns of our extended yards.  I love mowing lawns.

My inner child has been expressing himself through the extension of my very own Lawn Tractor.  My yard has some convenient ups and downs, a little rise and fall which gives riding the tractor that thrill my inner twelve year old boy craves.  Mowing the lawn has become a Zen Garden moment, round and round in patterns of expression and meaning. The movements of the Tractor and Truck, contemplation and meditations remembered from childhood.

Peace and Balance,

John

Is all work Honorable?

Many years ago my dentist said to me that, "All work is Honorable."  I didn't agree with him, and still don't.  He had no idea at the time what kinds of things can lie in one's past.  Today I work at Walmart two days per week.  Walmart has become the largest entity of it's kind on the planet.  It has more employees world wide than the United States military.  Considering the US has the largest active professional military  on the planet that is saying something.  Walmart has Stores and Supercenters in virtually every nation in the world.  The company has recently pulled it's holdings out of Russia due to the war in Ukraine.  Russia has since stolen the operating model and opened versions of Walmart of their very own using the old locations that were previously occupied by Walmart.  

I'm not a real fan of Walmart however.  I have recently been convinced that the Devil's name is actually Walton.  This is a family name not actually the name of one man, we know him as Sam.  Sam Walton is not the Devil, he would roll over in his grave if he knew what had happened to his company, however his grandchildren and greatgrandchildren proudly collectively wear the moniker, Devil.  

When arriving at work on the weekends I can swear I hear the screams and moans of tortured souls.  The place called Wal exists on one of the outer rings of Hell.  It is said the Dante channeled demons when writing the "Divine Comedy".  I believe he was actually seeing into the future and witnessed the rise of the world of Wal.  His work of literature is a perfect copy of the operations and power structure of Walmart.  It is the coming and goings of the green river that keeps the business alive.  The associates are the poor souls that are being tortured and the management are the demons that guard each ring of Hell.  At the Centre stands the Devil amid the Camping and outdoors equipment, Hitler in one hand, Caligula in the other, and the Donald at his feet, all taking turns being devoured by their own sins.  

I disagreed with my Dentist that day.  Not all work is Honorable.  However, Honorable people often do un-honorable acts in order to create positive change in the people.  Walmart has more employees than the US military.  Fortunately the average intelligence of Walmart management is that of a walnut.  Therefore there is no worry about an armed conflict brewing with the Land of Wal.  You never know what things look like in the universe right on the other side.

Peace and Balance,

John  

A Change in Perspective

 As we grow from childhood through adolescence into adulthood how we perceive our environment and our world changes from age to age.  At the beginning when we are small children, the world is a magical place full of wonder and awe.  At each step in our development we encounter stimulus that changes our perception at small intervals.  Some of this influence isn't always warm and fuzzy.  Much of the stimulus and influence  changing our perception is dark and nefarious.  

How we navigate these stops and goes in our lives, both the goodies and the baddies, determines what kind of character we will develop when we finely reach adulthood and crawl out of the larval stage of the Human Being.  When we become our own personal Butterfly.  

Sometimes we have changes after we are adults and have already gone through the mutations of the pupa.  These points, these rare occurrences can often become terrifying.  When the adult is presented with a stimulus that the mind can't wrap itself around there can be a multitude of interesting reactions.  Often times these influences cause or may create a fight or flight response in the receiver of the information.  The character that was created earlier in life determines how and what kind of reaction is created.  

Classically there are one of three responses, the individual will fight automatically to protect itself, the individual will run away to protect itself, or the individual will freeze in place to protect itself.  This happens physically as well as mentally and emotionally.  

There are ways to countermand these responses in our psyche through lots of training and practice, years of practice.  We can turn those responses into positive growth and life lessons.  We can open our eyes, and our minds eyes to get a full picture of what is actually presenting itself and we can see truth.  

It is also possible to use this training to mirror reflect negative influences directly back at the giver turning the control on them.  This can have the effect of scaring the hell out of our opponents.  Because now they are presented with an unknown, a wild card.  

When your world suddenly starts spinning backwards on its axis and a purple haze begins to rise from the mist, look straight at it and through it.  Absorb what you see, program it in your minds eye, let it become part of your being because what does not kill you makes you stronger.  Become the Sorcerer.  

Peace and Balance,

John

Just wait 5 minutes

 

It's said of the weather in New Hampshire that if you don't like it, just wait five minutes.  The past week has been hot and unhappily sticky.  The humidity level was high enough that I was contemplating carrying a canoe around with me, just in case.  Just in case of what, you ask?  Well one can never be sure.  Who knows if the skies aren't about to open up and throw a deluge of that wet stuff straight into our faces. The implications could turn almost biblical.  The almost is the reason why I was only contemplating a canoe. After all why would I over react?  

Our five minutes have past and I wake this morning to a rather pleasant 60 ish degrees with no humidity. Makes the air all most chilly.  Ah, it's good to be alive.  I gander at the weather reports coming in this summer from all over the globe, and ask myself, "Who doesn't believe in global warming now?"  Idiots...

I recently wrote about the change in weather and I'm thinking things are progressing allot faster than even I foresee.  The human race on this fine and wonderous planet of ours, "Earth" seems to be headlong into committing suicide through slow poison. We are poisoning our environments so completely that the possibilities of a quick cleanup are impossible.  I don't believe there is enough time.  

To my mind there are two solutions to the problem.  The first is that Mother Earth shakes the infection off of her surface and letting her natural immune system take charge and do away with the infection.  Unfortunately we, the Human Beings, are the infection.  That solution doesn't bode well.  

Second solution, and it seems to be on the minds of many these days, a world wide intervention from Alien Beings from a far off place, or space, or whatever.  That intervention hopefully would be a positive one in which the friends from abroad would teach us the errors of our ways and help us evolve beyond the need for poisoning our mother.  Of course an other out come would be possible as well, they want the Earth for themselves, terra form it and enslave us tinny creatures to do their bidding.  This wouldn't bode well.  

So, out of 2 and a half possibilities, 2/3 of it is not boding well for us, and one scenario that sounds more like a fantasy novel that a real possibility.  hmmmm.  

So fellow Humans, tighten up your sphincter and keep your fingers crossed, and hope I'm just a babbling fool..  

Peace and Balance,

Johb

Grandma's German Pancakes

One of the great morning creations in my kitchen are pancakes and sausages.  I create pancakes from that crazy rarely used substance called, "Scratch".  With Scratch you can create a multitude of wonderful morning items with which to nourish the body.  I have a tasty list of goodies that I use that magical Scratch stuff to create.  Freshly fried Potatoes and Onions sprinkled with diced Kielbasa, seasoned with Garlick salt, Sweet Basil, Kosher Salt, and Black Pepper.  Yummy.   

Scratch has blessed me with the likes of Toast, Bacon, and yes Eggs.  This is a favorite.  Mona can't eat eggs, she's allergic.  But, hey more for me.  I know some of these Scratchy things sound simplistic, but it's the simplest things in life that mean to most.  

If a good Breakfast becomes to complicated the pleasure of the moment disappears hidden in the complications of the recipe and the taste, and who needs complicated taste?  I'll stick with Scratch any day.  

Here's a recipe for you.  Grandma's German Pancakes.  

Mix up your favorite, From Scratch, pancake mix.  Mix it real thin, the thinner the better.

On a hot griddle spread the batter thin let it sizzle until small bubbles escape.  Flip.  

Cook 30 seconds on other side, add sliced strawberries, blueberries, and bananas. 

Roll up into a tasty log of goodyness.  

Place on plate and top with made from Scratch whip cream and butter, with just a tad bit of Ole Fashioned New Hampshire made Maple Syrup.  

Serve with Hot coffee for the adults or nice warm coco for the kiddies and a side of OJ.  

Enjoy the sugar rush...

Peace and Balance,

John

A Re-Emergence

 

Many of you know, many may not, that for the majority of my early adult professional life I was a full time Martial Arts instructor and Athlete.  I would travel around visiting different venues giving lectures, and classes ranging from stress relief techniques for professionals, to martial arts, tactics, and self defense for Security, EMS, Police, and Fire Departments in the Tri state area of Northern New Hampshire, Vermont, and Maine.  I would occasionally accept invitations to tournaments where another Martial Artist would attempt to punch or kick my head off, or if the practicum called for it, try to tie me into a tiny knot.  I made enough money playing this game for a little over twenty years to pay my bills and keep me in beans and rice.  Life was good.

In 1998 while I was training for a local event I injured myself to the verge of early retirement.  I was going through a Yoga routine, one that I had been practicing for more than 30 years, and found myself in the position of having to watch the ACL, (anterior cruciate ligament) in my right knee slowly tear itself apart.  I couldn't move or change position, all I could do was experience the pain while it happened, and it happened at an excruciating slow pace. I could even hear the sickening sound of the tissue pulling itself apart.  Not an experience I would wish on anyone.  

It took me two years to rehab from this injury, after having a cadaver ligament used to replace the blown out one.  Regular visits to physical therapy and the sports Docs place eventually got me to the point where I could get my limb back into kicking and low stance shape.  I was now 40 years old and not as willing to crawl into the ring with 20 to 30 year old kids.  I'll teach them how to be proverbial punching bags, I just won't be the punching bag.  Business picked up and I again was paying the bills and eating the occasional burrito.  I had a couple other gigs, but hey.  

The turn of the century came and the economy of our fine town died.  The paper mills closed, and folks of all kinds lost jobs and began shifting around into different life styles and different occupations.  I went back to school to work on a degree in education.  I was the oldest student in the class for most of my experience.  During this time I was forced to close my Dojo, a Japanese word for school.  This is kind of funny since I teach Chinese Gong Fu and the correct word is actually Kwoon, but hey Americans are gullible.  Anyways I closed up operations of my Dojo in 2005 after being a part time academy for two or three years.  

By the time I had closed up my school I had already spent a lifetime studying and practicing  the classical martial arts.   I decided to take my school underground and re-create myself and dump all old things purging myself from bad influences and negative teachings and thoughts, to begin anew again.  

The year was now 2019 and after a conversation with two of my most honorable and loyal students I began teaching again.  I just didn't tell them that I had dumped all prior material and re-created the whole curriculum of the system.  I have spent the past 20 years creating and re-creating a whole set of new forms, techniques, and teaching principles with which to express my understanding of Martial Philosophy and introduce to them a brand new Gong Fu system and style.  

We are now a wandering school that travels from my backyard, to one of my master student's garages, to the incredible Zoom device.  When we began meeting for classes the Pandemic decided to emerge and we we're forced to hold classes online over Zoom and on Google Classroom, a good place to keep a record of our material, and easy meeting place.  We have become a hybrid half online half in person Kwoon.  The modern era is here.  

Today we are on the lookout for a economically viable location with which to share our material with new generations of students.  Our new introduction.  

We are The New School Of The Silent Warrior, I am John the Head Master and founder of the system, style, and school  I am assisted by two of my Master students, Adam, and Tim who have together become a foundation for the Kwoon.  In the background are two other Master's of the Esoteric who prefer to keep themselves clandestine, with whom I share the higher states of being with, the secrets to Enlightenment, for which I will be forever grateful.

Peace and Balance,

John

NaCl

 Salt is one of the most important minerals to our physical well being and personal health.  The chemical combination of two very deadly poisons, Na (Sodium) which will violently combust in the presence of oxygen, and Cl (Chlorine) that travels around in a sickly green gas waiting to combine with water to chemically transform into HCl (Hydrochloric Acid).  At the very wrong moment this green gas can be breathed into the lungs and transform in the lungs to this acid.  Not a good thing at all.  However, you combine the two and have a substance that the human body can not live without.  

I used to be a fairly proficient outdoorsy type.  When I was younger I would grab a backpack, a sleeping bag, some extra water, and a couple of granola bars, and head out on the nearest trail to find an adventure at the hands and or paws of nature.  If need be with the help of my handy dandy Swiss Army knife, I could dig up edibles  and whittle myself a shelter out of  an old log.  I was good.  At that time in my youth I even had the presence of mind to create what we used to call rescue water.  That would be a quart of water mixed with a couple tablespoons of table salt.  This concoction of slightly salty water was to fight off the effects of the Big Yellow Orb in the sky.  I grew up in the Great American desert where the proper balance of water and salt can keep you alive under the right conditions.  Today the young hikers drink things like Gatorade, and other premade products to do much the same thing, keep you hydrated and properly chemically balanced.  

Now that I live in Northern New Hampster, a place that usually has such pleasant weather, I've forgotten the simple things that an outdoorsy fellow such as myself should know, Salt.  We have been experiencing what the weather man calls a legitimate heat wave.  We have had temps of over 90ish degrees for an extended period of time that is extenuated by such lovely super humidness. The fluids of my body are leaking excessively from the pores of my skin.  I found my self extremely dehydrated and feeling like I should have taken the license plate of the truck that ran me over.  

It was later in the week that I had one of those epiphanies, an event of overwhelming memory, and moment when I could swear I actually saw a light bulb over my head, rather dim but there non the less.  I mixed up some rescue water, had a few chips and, poof, the majick happened and I felt much better.  

The things we learn early in life sometimes come in quite handy later in life.  The next step has to do with Potassium I'm sure of it...

Peace and Balance,

John

To See or Not To See

 

I new a man years ago that had dead eyes.  His gaze would stare straight through you.  This would creep me right out.  He had the ability to make the staunchest person uneasy and those in authority forget their purpose.  My friend was a sniper during the Viet Nam conflict.  

His gaze reminded me of the eyes of a wolf.  Wolves will look straight through you.  They will not turn their eyes aside and most likely will give you a very low almost inaudible growl if you look straight back.  To the wolf this look is a challenge, it is telling the wolf that you are the Alpha, the one in charge.  

My friend was just like that.  Maybe he got a kick out of making people uneasy, maybe not, we'll never know.  He has since past from our plane of existence.  This was his super power.  

My friend had the look of a killer.  When you looked into his eyes you could see, or rather feel, the turmoil within that gaze.  It is said that the soul will reveal itself to you, the observer who looks into the eyes of the one who is communicating with him.  When looking into my friend's eyes you felt vulnerable and would think about your own weakness'.  He was reminiscent of a Vampyre.  

When I hear stories of people who claim to be, "Killers" or are willing to do such a thing I remember the look in my friend's eyes.  I use this as a guide to gain insight into the mind of those that make such claims.  This guide hasn't let me down for years. 

Individuals that will start such conversations with me while wearing sunglasses or some other form of eye shades are possibly lying to me as well as themselves.  I knew another man who would teach whole classes on different aspects of violence and self defense with sunglasses on.  It turns out he was suffering from massive insecurity and did not want the class witnessing this in his eyes.  His lies eventually imploded his business interests and left those around him to operate within their own strengths.  Those who could look into a clients eyes without the shades and speak truth succeeded. Those who copied the practices of their instructor followed his fate.  

My friend with the dead eyes taught me a great lesson in recognizing truth vs. BS.  He suffered the pains of his past, but he was true to himself and others.  His relationship to the undead, well that was purely coincidental...

Peace and Balance,

John

Basic Punching

Water water everywhere and not a drop to Drink.

 

Water, human beings have a sacred relationship with water.  We were birthed from the Waters, we are nurtured by the Waters, we are bathed and fed by the Waters.  Without the Waters there would be no life on this planet.  Every thing we are from conception to to death is due to the Waters.  I am capitalizing the word Waters and making them plural intentionally to make a point, and pay homage to the Spirit of the Water's.  In the past I've had conversations about the blood of the Mother, the Earth with those who equate the blood of the Earth to the oil that we misuse from the Earth.  This is not the blood of the Earth.  The Blood of the Earth are the Waters of the Mother.  Ina Mahka, Mother Earth is a being that has Four distinct parts, The Land, The Air, Her Immense molten Heart, and the Water's.  Each of these parts has a Spirit of it's own that combines to become our ever loving Mother.  Each one of these parts has to be conjoined to the other three in order for our Mother to live and to keep we frail Human Beings alive.  The Fires and the Land combine together as the masculine side of the Earth's being, and the Airs and the Waters combine to become the feminine side of the Earth's being.  We, the children of the Earth, have done so much damage to the Waters of the Earth that there has been a measurable change in the way the Surface of the Earth is reacting to the Waters.  We have injected poisons into the Waters that have driven the PH levels of acids and alkalis out of balance enough that we are not able to live on certain parts of the Mother.  The land is becoming incapable of sustaining the lives of all, not just us puny Human Beings.  What is not widely known, because those in the know don't want the majority to know, is that there is an actual measurable swing in the weather that parallels and reflects what's happening with the Waters.   When we poison our Atmospheres we are poisoning our Waters.  The Airs react and the Waters react, then the Lands react.  We are raising the temperatures of our Mother to the point of no going back, there is no Band-Aid big enough to help.  We know how to fix the problem, we just don't have enough time, nor enough recourses to help clean up our mistake.  Eventually over long periods of time because of our failures to  properly care for the surface of our Mother the Earth, the surface of the Lands, the Airs, and the poisoning and destruction of the Waters, will bring our overall temperature closer to that of the internal Heart of the Earth and we will All die.   If we plan on returning to our Mother after our deaths, to re-incarnate our beings, we are either going to have to look for another planet, or incarnate as a being that can live in extreme temperatures, not one of my personal choices...

Peace and Balance,

John

Coffee on Fridays

 

Every Friday as the weather holds out a couple of spiritual brothers and I gather together and burn some sacred wood on a sacred fire drinking the sacred drink.  That being nice black strong coffee. Lots of nice black strong Coffee.  Although we all disagree on just how strong is strong enough, and how to prepare the black blood of life, we all enjoy the burning, the conversation, and of course the drink itself. I prefer the Keurig machine, possibly the name of a future god. Each of us has his own preparation methods.  It is said that an Ethiopian Goat Herd named, Kaldi was wandering with his goats along a plateau and discovered some aromatic beans.  As with all curiosities he tried consuming them in all manner of preparation.  After much time and a few hyper active goats, Kaldi found an acceptable method of consuming the beans by forcing hot water through a ground dried version, Coffee was born.  Kaldi reported his findings to an Abbot in a local monastery and as things happen the Abbot and the Monks claimed the discovery for themselves and poor Kaldi was lost to history, dang Catholics.  My two Coffee worshiping brothers and I manage to consume enough of the drink each Friday evening to stimulate some pretty Big happenings.  These happenings can quite literally be classified as ole fashioned Majick.  In my Grandmother's speak there are two words for Coffee, Pejuta Sapa, and Wakaliapi.  Wakaliapi literally translates to "Holy Bean"  Waka is sacred or holy, and Liapi means bean, "Holy Bean", and Pejuta Sapa translates to "Black Medicine".  Pejuta is medicine, and Sapa means black.  So, we have Black Medicine.  From the Holy Beans we make Black Medicine.  Sort of makes sense doesn't it.  It turns out that there is real scientific evidence that says drinking coffee every day can ward off certain aliments, lower the risk of cancer, and extend the life.  So I guess in one form or another it is medicinal.  The conversations this majickal liquid entices range anywhere from bad politics to the new classification of the UFO, or UAP as they are now called.  Although I have recent discovered that there are three main classifications of flying things, UAP, unknown aerial phenomena, those are the flying things that we see and can't identify at all, but they are flying and not identifiable. Then, there's the UFO, those are things that we see and can say, "Hey that's an object of some kind," be it a physical thing, a metal think, or an energy thing, we can determine that it is an object of sorts, UFO.  Last there are the IFO, identified flying objects.  That one is self explanatory.  We see it and we identify it.  Recently some of the UFO's have become IFO's and some of the UAP's have become UFO's.  This is how declassification works, little steps.  If the whole truth came out all at once you never know what sort of mayhem and mirth may be the result.  Dogs and cats getting along, people traveling without fear, no more shootings in the streets, the possibilities are endless.  Fridays have become a new Holy Day for me.  I really like Coffee.   So, I say to all readers, spend some time with close friends, family, and like minded persons, drink some of the Holy Beans and talk the Black Medicine, communicate and your conversations may actually turn into, a Communion...  

Peace and Balance,

John

A Helping Hand

 One of the greatest attributes of a Human Being is the ability to provide a service for another Human Being.  Offering this service from one to another is a great gift given to us from the Creator of all things, WakanTanka Tunkasila, Allah, the Atman, or just plain ole God.  We small creatures have been given a great gift, the ability to exercise our power of choice and offer up this gift to our fellow beings.  Compassion towards another enables us to lighten our own loads and heighten our personal vibrations. What this means is that your energies are more in tune to like minded folks that presumably are doing the same sort of thing and are on similar paths.  Or, if you believe in such things, can communicate or commune with beings on a higher vibration, ya know, angels, positive entities, friendly beings, and of course the occasional alien that wants to guide us along our path of development.  This is when I interject a little bit of caution.  Remember the episode of "The Twilight Zone" where there are supposed nice aliens that give man a bunch of stuff, high technologies, the cure for all disease, a personal sense of happiness, and of course the occasional ride in a space ship.  These tall goofy looking fellers carried around a book that said, "To Serve Man Kind" on it , also the title of the episode.  Turns out at the end of the episode, after our protagonist gets on board a ship for his ride, that the book, the wonderful doctrine of the Aliens, "To Serve Man Kind" is a Cook Book.  Ye gads man, kinda puts us in the realm of being the Cattle.  So, we might have higher vibrations, but we still need to look out whom we communicate with. Any Ways I digress.  The word Shaman, which comes from a Manchu-Tungus word saman, literally translates to, "One who knows."    This is a word that has been used generically world wide to describe indigenous Holy people, and Medicine folks.  In the ancient or not so ancient past/present, the shaman would go through rituals to eventually communicate or commune with the being described above.  It used to be the responsibility of every responsible adult member of the tribe/clan to be a Shaman.  That slowly changed as populations grew.  Eventually it moved to the head of the household, and then the spiritual head of the community.  Then later then spiritual keepers separated from the medicine keepers and we created a priest hood and a medical community.  The priest hood eventually lost the ability to commune and started lying to the people, and the medical folks began a war of monetary attrition.  Today we find ourselves in the position of returning back to our origins and upon reaching higher vibrational states return to the original, Shaman.  Again I put out the warning of whom we communicate with and who we, "Believe"  For Belief is based on Faith and Faith can become the start of Worship.  Worship starts Religions, and that's no good for anyone.  Stay Spiritual and raise your vibrations to the highest level with a wary eye, and Serve your fellow Beings, for the Doors to the Heavens will open to you.  

Peace and Balance,

John

Sleep less nights

 

Last night, a night that will live in memory and abused coffee machines, was long and sleepless.  Mona and I spent the night going over book shelves and watching old reruns of Columbo on Tubi.  Now, there is a point at which awakeness will turn into stupidness.  The thing is we don't usually recognize the stupid in our actions until you find yourself talking to inanimate objects such as the refrigerator, a chair, and the all knowing bathroom door, about subjects that you usually reserve for the occasional college lecture.  Ya know, stuff like the state of the economy, quantum physics, how to eat an Oreo, and the great mathematical question, "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?"  With so many great mystical questions  in our multiverse it's a mystery how we get any sleep at all. The books never did get arraigned.  I should mention I haven't had a drink in years and don't partake on any recreational multivitamins.  Late at night, lack of sleep, this is my usual weirdness.  The Aliens are amused...  

Peace and Balance,

John

Alien Origins

 I woke this morning after a dream wondering where exactly do we Earth bound beings come from.  There are thoughts that we might hail from the planet Mars after a cataclysmic event.  Possibly an event that left a wandering planet in shambles in-between Mars and Jupiter.  That would be the asteroid belt, the possible rubble of a collision of worlds.  The Martians escaped and landed on Earth to eventually populate and terraform a new world for habitation.  hmmm, that sounds plausible.  Another idea is that a race of super intelligent beings wandered by and decided to experiment with the indigenous peoples of the Earth  playing Biogenetic games on our ancestors, the apes.  Rearraigning DNA multiple times until we hairless large lobed critters stepped out of the ooze to claim the world as our own.  That's what we do best, point at an object and say, "Hey that belongs to me." then stick a flag in it and do a dance, poof.  Depending on how provocative the dance and how convincing your, "My" statement is determines just how much of the thing is yours and how much you have to share with those who had already stuck a flag in it.  Whole generations  have used this method for claiming worlds.  And whole generations have disappeared.  Another idea is that there is this real big bearded fellow that magically created human kind with the snap of his fingers.  This big hairy dude has been watching over us and guiding us with his sense of right and wrong since the beginning of, well, all things.  We know when he gets irritated because the ground shakes and the skies throw lightning at us.  And we know when he's feeling good because the sun shines and the harvest is bountiful.  Thing about this guy is that you're not supposed to talk about any other big creative folks or suffer the wrath.  Sounds like a good story for folks to manipulate other folks with.  Still, doesn't really explain where we Earth bound kids come from.  Maybe, just maybe have you, that we thought the whole thing up in the first place.  That everything around us is the product of some really rad shrooms, or Uncle Buck's private stock, or we just create stuff with our own thought engine, we are the creator of all we see.  Sounds kinda trippy, but hey you never know...  

Peace and Balance,

John