Beyond The Blue Skies

Beyond the blue skies                     

I may find all the reasons,

so many doubts, so many whys.

There was a time 

I thought I knew...

There was a time 

I thought I knew...

But it was only youth 

exuding from my pores.

Beyond the blue skies

Lie all the answers.

If only I could fly so high.

      

The Religion Experiment

     

     Enough is enough; how many human beings will the world allow Israel to kill before we call it for what it is: genocide.

     And for my Jewish readers, you are not the chosen people; I know that to be a fact because there's no such a thing as a God of any kind. All religion is a made up story to help people deal with the fear of death. ( read Ernest Becker's The Denial of Death) 

     The rest of us, non-religious people, live our lives ignoring the insanity of all religions until you step over the line. Who gave the Israeli army permission to just bombard a city filled with civilians? How is this different than the insane people who flew planes into the World Trade Center?

     You don't get to make up your own God, establish a set of rules and traditions to yourselves and then expect everyone to fall in line praising you for your misguided devotion. Same goes to all religions. We are sharing this planet, as human beings, we are prone to the same diseases, to the pain of watching our love ones leave this earth, hopefully after many years of living. 

     Yet, all of you, God people, decide on a whim that you have been offended and that killing each other is the answer. And God forbid anyone else with common sense speak against it, that is when you evoke the words you have crafted to allow you to continue to kill each other. Somehow, we have allowed you to get away with this behavior for centuries.

     Antisemitic is the most used term ascribed to anyone who disagrees with. your actions in relation to the Palestinian people, who you have put in a sort of concentration camp for many many years. Every once in awhile, you kill thousands of them and expect the world to look the other way. I think that finally we are beginning to see this for what it is: an encampment at best, that under the bright lights of your bombs reveal itself for what it is: a concentration camp. A place you have built it to keep all the Palestinians, to obey all your rules or be sentence to death.

     The Jewish people were victims of an inexcusable crime by the Germans and Japanese governments; spend a week in any city in Germany and you will see how serious the German government is in preventing that level of madness to ever be repeated. 

     In the meantime, the Japanese government chose collective amnesia as a way to avoid the shame they deserve to feel for their participation in the heinous, systematic killing of so many jews.

     And now, the descendants of the millions innocent exterminated became the perpetrators of violence against Palestinians. Are Jews claiming Palestinians to be all the same, violent people that need to be exterminated? 

     This sort of conflict is nothing new; on January 30th, 1972 British soldiers shot 26 unarmed civilians during a protest march in the Bogside area of Derry, Northern Ireland.That is still a stain of shame in the history of that country. 

     The Israeli army killed over 2,000 people in few weeks and almost 200 children. You can call yourselves "the chosen ones" if that makes you feel better and helps you to navigate the perils of life; but we have our beliefs. 

     My beliefs are very simple: 

there is no God. I'm alone in this world. Life is hard and way too short, and sprinkled with ephemeral happiness now and then. 

Don't drink. Don't smoke. 

Don't do any drugs.( Yes. Sugar is a drug. A venom. Toxic to the body.) 

Chose one person to share life with and don't cheat on that person. 

Wake up. Exercise. Meditate. Practice Omad. 

Pray if it brings you solace. ( I do. Sometimes. It brings me closer to my mother and my grandmother and it calms my soul.)

     Follow those guidelines to maintain your body health while you find artistic endeavors to strengthen your soul. And life will gift you with the pain you need to grow.

     What you don't do with all that pain is call yourselves "chosen ones" and oppress another community for years and years. Native Americans believed all land was sacred; the American military exterminated them all and took the land. 

     Jews are doing the same, you have taken the land you call sacred and preventing another community from enjoying it. You call yourselves "chosen" and now you have engaged in Nazism. All in the name of a fictitious God. 

     The bellic arsenal you use against your vocal critics is to evoque antisemitism. So let me be even more clear, all religions are fiction and since I'm a storyteller, beautiful to read. But when you begin killing people in the name of your particular fairytale; that's when the world needs to get together and stop you.

     My guess is that the entire world is waiting until you, "the chosen people" kill millions of Palestinians; the exact number the Nazi regime killed. Then we will put an end to this nonsense.

     My partner and I drive often through a community in Los Angeles where many Hasidic Jews live; we watch families cross the street in front of us while are at a stop sign, and it is beautiful and a bit poignant; as if we were missing something. The children, boys and girls, nicely dressed, the mother and father walking in front. It always makes me think of how nice it must be to believe in something; a being that is out there looking out for us. 

     The families always looked so content; calm; one can see that their religion, their faith has given them peace. A tranquility I certainly don't have. I don't comprehend that kind of faith but it is beautiful to see. It is disrespectful to those families when the Israeli government goes around killing Palestinians in the name of their religion. And so is for all the other religions that engage in violence against another.

     

     

      

     This is just an excerpt of a CNN report on the genocide committed this week by a group of people who should know better. 

     These are two sites destroyed  in the name of God.

 ( what is left of a hospital in Gaza. A functional hospital with civilians inside )

 ( what is left of the World Trade Center. A functional building with civilians inside )

This is actor Mark Ruffalo, back in 2019, apologizing for calling what the Israeli government is doing for what it is: genocide. I don't dislike religion- just don't believe in it, but I respect people rights to exercise it; but politicians I despise. And hypocrisy. 

Unless he is also going to apologize for calling President George Bush a war criminal. There's no difference between what US did in Iraq and Israel is doing in Gaza. Calling genocide for what it is, it's not hyperbole, it is a necessity to prevent the murder of civilians and children. 

If the price you pay for protesting the killing of children is that you never make another movie; then you never make another movie.  But you don't get to be vocal only with the crowd that agrees with you. 

You should advocate for peace, freedom of religion expression and for the sanctity of human life. Your voice should raise in protest to any group that decides to kill another in the name of their particular fairytale.

One Spoon a Day Will Not Keep the Doctor Away

A comment inspired by a video from the Institute "of whatever" on how "health freaks" are demonizing sugar.

Here are two documentaries on this sweet poison.

The Secrets of Sugar - The Fifth Estate

A New Cottage Industry

     

     There's a new evil brewing in the greatest country in the world; don't pretend ignorance, for you know exactly the country I am referring to: the country that sends its boys to war around the world and call them heroes, offer them parades and a whole day out of the year to celebrate them. 

     A special day where the citizens of this magnificent country can enjoy a day of leisure and drive to the beach, to the mall; on the way there, at the traffic lights and sidewalks they can see the parade of veterans: missing limbs, hunted by ghosts and demons,  begging for scraps and living in tents. 

     A few romantic souls, still linger to the story they were sold and beg for money dressed in the uniform they used to fight the wars that provided us the freedom to walk the street as  free people.

     The country I am referring to has created agencies to protect its citizens and assure their safety; agencies such as the DIABETES FOUNDATION that links diabetes to fat consumption and advise the public that sugar in moderation is healthy; and the American Society for Nutrition and National Institute of Health that advises the public that there are no links between obesity, high calorie consumption and lack of exercise. It is all genetic and therefore only managed by prescribed drug use. For life.

     Coincidentally, this particular country gain billions of its revenues in two primary sources of income: the military and its pharmaceutical/health industry. And now, they have invented a new evil way to profit from its citizens: compassion.

     Politicians, known worldwide for their empathy and devoting service to the people, have began a campaign to "house" mentally ill people for up to an entire year while they are tested and treated for their illness. 

     We have to hand it to the pharmaceuticals companies creative way to acquire new customers. 

    The new evil, as it turns out, it's nothing new: the executives of pharmaceuticals companies and their lobbyists have aimed their sights at the homeless, as they finally see a new way to profit from them. Politicians have began singing their song of empathy, while other politicians appeal to the self centered selfish among us and talk about "cleaning the streets." 

     Pretty soon, to our joy and delight, our streets will be cleaned and safe once again. A few voices will rise in the defense of the unhoused but it will be muffled by our silence , as we drive to the beach and the mall and the clubs and restaurants and the tourist destinations. 

   As we go on with our lives, ignoring the sufferers as we do now.

   On the sidewalk of this great country there will be signs that read: " This clean sidewalk was brought to you by GSK, Pfizer, Johnson & Johnson, etc.."

     And this will be the great experiment of our lifetime as they open hospitals around this great country and harness their skills on the homeless until they have perfected the art of imprisoning people to test their new drugs. And make a profit for their investors.

     Once they are done with the homeless, they will come for our families, as they did in the 40's and 50's and 60's. Our children, fathers and mothers. A full circle indeed.

A clown's perspective: " When the business people and politicians find a way to profit from the homeless you will see the streets of America clean up real goddamn fast. I guarantee you that." George Carlin

Gliders and Sufferers

     

     Only God can make a tree, but I can make trouble. I can hurt my fellow men and be content within myself; for getting my way, above his, hers and they be denied; because it is in my nature to do so. Am I created in His image? Has God bestowed his disdain to His creatures as we disdain ourselves daily.?

     In the cities of this world there are only two kind: sufferers and gliders; gliders being the ones that take to the city in enjoyment as his fellow men perish. And with the help of the ones and the zeros, display to the world to see. And envy. 

     A sure sign of a malady within is the pleasure to display as others suffer; but here I am also at fault, because the gliders suffer too: an existence is long enough for creatures to understand how weak, perishable and transient we all are. Every social media display is a desperate cry for help.

" Am I alone." "Do you feel my pain?" Can you for the time being enjoy my material things and make me feel happy and complete? Can you see me? But not in the way I see myself. Can you see me with envy, with desire, for it is through your eyes and likes that I can briefly feel enough; that I can feel that my existence is not in vain. 

     In a world where many profess the existence and the love of God Almighty for us, it begs the questions: why is that love not enough? Why must we search for likes and recognition in social sites?

     Surrounded by my family; while others have none. Surrounded by my beautiful friends; while others are alone. Surrounded by the fabric and materials of this Tesla; while besides me, at this traffic light in West Hollywood tents line up one after another on the sidewalk. Tents, trash and flies is all there is now. For the humans that surround it go unnoticed; unless they make themselves noticeable; to our despair. 

     Nothing, not even the pain I feel when I think of my mother, can hurt as much as the sight of another mother, or a father - I've seen them both - on a street corner, by a traffic light, begging for money; with signs that read: 

" Need money for food." " Need money for rent." 

     While CHILDREN as young as 4 years old sit by their side with an expression I have yet to understand. Or perhaps I chose not to as I try daily to forget all the memories I have of my mother spending her only existence inside a mental hospital so that well educated men could afford their vacation homes, automobiles and their social status. Prescribing electric shock treatments to the depressed until they are no longer there. Branding their children like cattle; for life.

     And that it is; the hypocrisy of it all. As my beloved grandmother would say: " when you point your finger at someone, three other fingers are pointing at you." We all display what we have for the world to see; in communion. It is the only way we have not to feel so alone. 

You display your things: families, friends and beautiful possessions. The rest of us display our pain. We are all beggars in this world, trading for love, understanding, acceptance. For pity. 

And so, as in Your Lord's Prayer,  we too beg. Not to be forgotten. Not to die.

Happy Families!

     There are human beings living in there; human beings I will never meet. I found this by happenstance, when looking for a quiet corner of the world to hide and do some drugs; that being coffee, Starbucks coffee, my favorite drug dealers.

     Not a particularly nice looking building, but it sits at the heart of a very opulent area. That's Los Angeles for you, a third world county that doesn't see itself for what it is because is busy telling the rest of world how to live.

     I grew up an orphan, and windows are, and always have been my Achilles's heel. I remember seeing them at night - beauty and perfection has always taken place at night for me; under the harsh light of day I see it all - I remember windows lit inside and waited to get a glimpse of a mother, a father, their happy children. It is the only thing I have envied in this world: families.

     In my imagination, they were always happy and I always walked away feeling sad and lonely; asking God why He had deprived me of a family. It would be years until I found out he doesn't exist.

     If you look carefully at the picture, you will see the hanging grapes on the wall that mark the division of the property line. I tried one. They are as sour as I feel right now. I wonder if someone with a better life story than mine would find any sweetness in them.

     Could it be true? Could life be a matrix where our experiences reflect how we feel? If it is, then I'm doomed because when I see lit or unlit windows I always imagine a happy family inside; something I've never had.

The Light of Night

     I travel into myself; there's no other destination as urgent, as essential. I, a ghost in my own lifetime, too old  to fit among the live, naive, the young; too optimistic for the bitter, the old, the others that harvested practicality from all they've lived.

     I fit nowhere. I have nothing else but the journey within, the lonely road into myself, like a teenager swimming in a river, diving deeper and deeper into the darkness without ever looking back at the horizon, the misleading thin line of light above; deeper and deeper until a voice out of nowhere reminds me: " This is not your environment, you need air."  Air being others of my kind. 

     But it is the diving I enjoy. It is the diving that disperses bits of truth, moments of me that pop like bubbles in the water surrounding me,  in which I recognize my humanity; the revealed moments of me within myself. The diving one must do alone, without love, companionship; love requires the surface, the island, a blanket: basket, fresh fruit, wine. Another. London.The sun. 

     The sun does nothing but reveal the already seen. Such useless star, the sun. Scorching everything below, as pretentious as an ivy league college professor, pontificating, like that gentleman on PBS who interviewed others and spoke gravely, exuding importance, saying nothing original, regurgitating words of others as if the simple act of understanding merited such arrogance. Such is the sun above. 

     At night, I temper with things at easy. Not at will. In the dark corners, shadows, and reflections of light, the subconscious flourishes, comes out to space, to air  the dense matter inside: mash of memories, disappointments, deep injuries and sorrows. It comes out to be among others, outside of the harsh light that judges, that seem to understand but doesn't. How can it, when the entity itself labors for the reasoning of its own mysterious actions and words?

     In the darkness of lonely nights, if one sits still, doesn't interfere, doesn't judge, one can get those lovely bubbles of self recognition. One can meet the true self dormant within.

     I guess this is my way of saying that this world has gotten to be overexposed and so, so, so very loud that everyone should just shut the hell up! Myself included.

     For a bit. A heartbeat or two until we are so deep within ourselves that we have something to say. About ourselves. Not others.