November 15, 2010 archive

To head back to the Mountaintop.

Sad to say, but by no means unexpectedly, lol, The Forces Of Ignorance have prevailed yet again.

Weenie Liberals and unevolved Republicans have thwarted the last real chance to save the Planet…..politically.

All that is left now is to take the spiritual path and work and pray that as few as possible numbers of humans die off of the Planet that they have fouled with their own waste. Or, perhaps….to pray that as many as possible do, and thus, with the energy of their ‘sacrifice,’ transform what remains into something that can…one day…be built into a new and better consciousness raising machine. Apparently the current consciousness raising machine is mostly stalled in neutral, with only a tiny percentage still advancing at a meaningful rate.

Which outcome to pray for is something that can only be determined on a Mountaintop. (or perhaps at the base of a cliff) In light of the fact that compassion for all sentient beings is a central tenet of higher consciousness, and that a moral stance, imo, has to contain the concept of The Greatest Good for All Concerned….it is an interesting question. Soon, barring a miracle that raises the consciousness of a critical mass of humans on the planet, that question  will be moot. I’ll leave it with you as I go.

Because it is time to go.

All that is left to do in the realm of politics now, after all the recent events pointing to empowering the worst aspects of human nature……. is to yell at stupid people.

Yeah, I know. I have things for which to be grateful. But excuse the fuck out of me if I cannot work up a decent set of humility and praise for the life I have been entitled to this year. I think the only gratitude I have is a deep one: Those of you who came and made my roof happen, those of you who donated and made it possible. At least there’s that.

Thanksgiving week is a bunch of pointless doctor appointments with people he will never use: His radiologist, when he can never again have radiation Monday, his surgeon, when he cannot have surgery Wednesday, and bloodwork Friday. Of course, each fucking appointment costs us an arm a leg and a left tit, even after our bullshit insurance; and not one of them can tell us a fucking thing until after the weekend, the following Monday when his Cat Scan occurs. Even then? They drag their heels for days before we get results. Its one big dragged out stressfuck of “will he live or die?” I cannot imagine my life without him. Its fast growing, of you remember, and his last appointment told him flat out – 25% or less chance. In the immediate. This year.

So, since Mike can’t eat, Jake only cares about the cranberry and pie, and I really don’t like Turkey much, (I’ll eat it, and I hear I make the best freaking bird around… but meh… its not my thing) why the fuck should I go through the whole brine-ing the night before, getting up at 5, making 2 kinds of dressing, seasoning, side dishes and baking fresh breads and pies? I can’t afford that shit anyway. I usually have a couple stray friends over, but I can’t afford that financially or emotionally either.

I guess I should be grateful for finding out who my real friends are, death is the great equalizer in more ways than one.